*Author’s Note: Any and all persons engaging in any sexual activity are at least eighteen years of age.
Disclaimers: This story has been edited by myself, utilizing Microsoft Spell-Check. You have been forewarned; expect to find mistakes.
“Hey, give me the remote,” Soleil Davis demanded, coming behind the bar.
Hunter Davis looked at the nineteen year old beauty, with her waist length strawberry blonde hair, almond shaped gray-blue eyes, small nose and pouting, heavily painted lips. The undersides of her 34DD breasts peeked out of the bottom of her half shirt. The stark white garment had ‘Hunter’s Cabin’ emblazoned on the left breast, advertising the name of the bar. Her camouflage shorts rode low on her 32 inch hips and showed a delicious camel toe. Her pale concave belly was visible in her outfit, showing an adorable little nick of a belly button.
Hunter fished the television remote control from underneath the counter and held it out to Soleil. The five foot one inch tall girl stretched to reach his mouth and they shared a quick kiss.
Hunter’s outfit of wife beater shirt and low slung camouflage shorts displayed the six foot two inch man’s broad muscled chest and bulging biceps and powerful forearms. A few sprigs of blond chest hair stock out the top of the shirt, and the tight shirt showed off his muscled abdomen.
When he stepped from behind the bar of Hunter’s Cabin, the patrons of the Gentlemen’s club saw Hunter’s bulging thighs and calves. The few that looked also saw a substantial lump in the pouch of the camouflage shorts and a very tight backside. Many of the girls did look at his closely shorn blond hair and ice cold green eyes. Hunter Davis was handsome, not pretty.
‘Up All Night’ by Hinder faded out and a nude girl gathered her clothing and scampered from the stage. Soleil rapidly tapped on the remote, switching the sixty inch television from the broadcast of last year’s playoff game that had ended the Myndee Blue Jays’ hopes of going to the college World Series games to a black screen. Curtis drunkenly swiveled his head in annoyance.
“Hey, I was watching that,” he complained.
“Last year’s game, Mr. Curtis,” Soleil called back. “Anyway, you supposed be watching Desiree. She was dancing right over there?”
“Seen her dance plenty,” Curtis said sourly. “Wanted see that pitch; I’m telling you, it weren’t no strike, I’m telling you.”
‘Lips Like Sugar’ by Echo & The Bunnymen started off faintly. Soleil jammed her finger on the volume button and held it until the song boomed out of the recessed speakers around the lounge. She bobbed her head and wiggled her hips in time with the song. Hunter looked from Soleil’s sweetly rounded buttocks to the television. He then looked at her backside again. The camouflage shorts were hemmed to display much of her backside. The soft white material of the two rear pockets dangled, covering her juicy rear somewhat.
On the black screen, an odd vision began to form. A short mop of bright yellow hair appeared, then neon pink lips showed on the large screen. The hair and lips seemed to float backward away from the unseen camera. Two large neon pink dots showed up beneath the yellow hair and pink lips. The two large dots shimmied and shook in time with the bouncing and swaying of the bright yellow hair and smiling lips, bobbing and bouncing in time with the song.
“Black light,” Soleil said to Hunter.
“Uh huh, see that. Pretty awesome,” Hunter nodded his head. “How’d you get the whole thing black like that?”
Soleil shrugged her shoulders and continued to swivel and gyrate to the music. On the screen, the camera continued to zoom out until a bright pale blue strip cut horizontally across the screen. The blue strip wiggled and rocked up and down as the hair and lips and dots also bounced and swayed.
The camera zoomed out again, revealing two thin blue strips running vertically. Between the two blue strips was an inverted triangle of bright yellow hair. Bisecting the triangle from point to base was a very thin bright pink line. The camera continued to zoom out until the bright blue stockings showed on the screen, ending in bright blue pumps with four inch stiletto heels.
Hunter stared at the oddly titillating image on the screen. Next to him, Soleil put the remote control onto the bar and danced to the music that pounded and thumped from the speakers.
Suddenly, from the left side of the screen, halfway down the length, a bright violet dot appeared. The dot continued to penetrate the screen until it was revealed to be a bright violet colored phallus. The phallus approached the dancing shrouded figure. When the phallus gently brushed the garter belt, the dancing figure got to her knees and pressed her lips to the tip of the garish purple phallus. When compared to the dancer’s lips and mop of hair, the phallus was enormous.
The camera angle switched from a frontal shot to a side view. The camera picked up the dancer from her left side and showed her on her knees. Her left pink nipple was visible as was just a hint of her bright yellow pubic thatch, between the top of her left blue stocking and the blue garter belt.
The dancer’s mouth opened and the tip of the purple phallus entered the mouth. At first, just the tip entered, thrusting in and out in short jabs. Then the phallus popped out, then pressed against the dancer’s pouting lips again.
“Lips like sugar, sugary kisses,” Soleil sang as she gyrated along with the song.
“Damn,” Hunter moaned, watching more and more of the large violet phallus driving into the mouth of the kneeling figure.
The camera angle shifted again and showed the dancer’s head and phallus from the right side. The image of the head and phallus filled the entire screen, the bright yellow hair, the garish pink lips, the bright violet phallus fucking the lips on the screen.
Just in case the viewer had forgotten how large the phallus was, the entire instrument left the mouth. Then, the phallus then re-entered the mouth, disappearing entirely into the darkness.
“Augh!” Hunter grunted as the large dong vanished into the mouth of the dancer once more.
Approximately forty seconds before the song concluded, with the phallus thrusting roughly back and forth into the figure’s mouth, a white dribble appeared on the bottom lip of the dancer. That little blob of white was followed by another larger dribble of the white liquid. The phallus held still as more and more of the white liquid spilled out of the lips, trickling down the inky blackness.
The angle changed again, to the front of the kneeling figure. The purple phallus popped out of the dancer’s mouth, drooping slightly as drops of white liquid dripped from its violet tip. The rivulets of the white liquid now coursed over an unseen mound, slowly edging toward the right pink dot, the dancer’s right areole. The song faded completely now.
“Hey, I was watching that,” Curtis complained as Soleil again switched the television back to the Myndee Blue Jays baseball game.
“Uh huh,” Soleil said, reducing the television’s volume just as Patrick announced that Juliette was coming to the stage.
‘Blame It On The Boom Boom’ by Black Stone Cherry started to play. Swan Davis came out, wearing a leather skirt and leather jacket and leather thigh high boots. Swiveling around, Swan lifted the hem of the short leather skirt, revealing a black leather thong.
Turning to face the lounge again, Swan gave her heavily painted lips a suggestive lick and edged the zipper of the jacket down, showing more and more of her pale flesh.
Thrice more during the night, either Swan or Soleil would come behind the bar and play the ‘Lips Like Sugar’ video. Hunter had to congratulate the two girls; Dawn/Tawny had called in sick and Shelly/Valentina was still on vacation. So, if two girls were in the Deer Stands with a customer, that left only one girl on the stage and another girl working the floor. This video gave them time to get one girl off the stage and the next one ready to go on. It gave one girl time to get out of the Deer Stand, get herself cleaned up, and ready to go on the floor or on the stage.
“You know, I hated that damned song in the Eighties,” Curtis said, watching as the white liquid coursed from the bright pink lips, trickled down over the blackness, down toward the bright pink nipple.
“Yeah?” Hunter smiled and playfully squeezed Swan’s delectable buttocks as she switched the television from the video to the highlights of the Lady Jays’ women’s basketball season.
“Still think it sucks, but won’t be able to get it out my head now,” Curtis said.
“Uh huh,” Hunter agreed and gave Swan a soft lip to lip kiss.
Patrick’s introduction of Julianne drowned out the first notes of ‘In The Dark’ by The Birthday Massacre. Soleil skipped out, dressed in Catholic schoolgirl uniform. A quick spin lifted the hem of the pleated skirt, revealing Soleil’s stark white panties.
The next morning, Dawn Martin, Tawny as she was known to the customers of Hunter’s Cabin called in sick again. Hunter nodded his head somberly as he ended the call. She had not sounded sick; she’d sounded hungover or strung out.
Last year, Hunter had hired Maria Soldano, Panama as she was known to the customers. She even had Patrick or John-John play ‘Panama’ by Van Halen as the first song of any of her sets. Once she had her foot in the door, Maria started selling drugs to his girls. Hunter fired her and called the police. Jimmy Smith, Maria’s pimp/dealer tried sending a few boys over to show Hunter the error of his ways.
Hunter put the four boys in the hospital; Miguel would never walk again and the other three would remember meeting Hunter Davis whenever the weather was cold. Seeing the muscle wouldn’t work, Jimmy tried guns. Jimmy and his remaining four boys and Maria found out that a shoot-out with a US Marine and his three bouncers and club DJ, also US Marines, would not end well. Jimmy and Maria were the only survivors and both were serving lengthy sentences behind bars.
So, Hunter had a strict ‘No Drugs’ policy and the girls knew it. But what they did off-premises, Hunter had no control over. With a sigh, he checked on the brisket and the pork, then started to look through the recent applications.
“Hello, this is Hunter Davis, Hunter’s Cabin. May I speak with Rachael Dunn please?” he spoke into his cell phone, nodding as the delivery man brought in that day’s buns.
“Aw, man, why you never got any girls, you know, auditioning or maybe practicing when I come in?” the man half-joked, head swiveling around.
“They’re usually still sleeping at this time,” Hunter said, waiting as Rachael’s roommate or sister went to get Rachael. “But, hey, got a few minutes? Watch this.”
While Rachael sleepily agreed to come in for an interview, the delivery man sat on a barstool and watched ‘Lips Like Sugar’ playing on the large screen television. When the song died down, the man shakily got to his feet and wobbled to the door. Hunter smirked; the front of the man’s slacks were dark with the man’s ejaculation.
Rachael was a tall, slender red head. Her outfit of white wife beater shirt showed her braless 29B breasts and light brown areolae nicely. Her denim cut-offs revealed a sweetly rounded backside and long, muscular legs.
“First day? Pretty much just want you on the floor; don’t worry, I pay you ten an hour and you keep whatever tips you get,” Hunter explained. “Just keep your eyes open. See how the other girls do it.”
“I uh, I worked at The Captain’s Table,” Rachel said.
“Mm hmm,” Hunter nodded. “Why I hung onto your application. But, Captain’s Table? Pasties and thong? Here? This is a members-only club so we’re not limited to those rules.”
“That’s fine,” Rachael shrugged. “Shit, in the Stowaway Room? I usually got naked anyway.”
“Let me guess,” Swan said, seeing the new girl. “Dawn called in sick again.”
“Golly, it’s like you’re pee sigh chick or something,” Hunter smiled and bent to kiss her.
“Shut up butt hole,” Swan giggled and lightly slapped him. “God, I was like what? Eight? I was just learning how to read, you meanie pie.”
The pretty strawberry blonde looked at Rachael and smiled. Rachael gave an uncertain smile; obviously these two had some history.
“Psychic. It looks anything like it sounds?” Swan asked the new girl.
Before Rachael could answer Swan’s question, Swan again stretched up for another kiss. Swan molded herself against Hunter as he hugged her tightly with his strong arms. She leaned heavily against him for a long moment, then perked up.
“Oh, give me the remote,” she ordered.
“On the bar, right next to the snake,” Hunter said, turning the temperature down on the pork.
“Snake?” Rachael squealed, jumping away from the bar.
“He means, if it was a snake, it would’ve bit me?” Swan explained to Rachael as she grabbed the television remote control.
“Oh. Oh!” Rachael gave a nervous giggle. “I’m Rachael.”
“Swan,” Swan said, reaching across the bar and shaking the girl’s hand.
“No, Rachael’s my name, not my dancer’s name,” Rachael clarified.
“Uh huh, and Swan’s my real name,” Swan said, mashing the buttons on the remote control. “On the stage, I go by Juliette.”
“And I’m Julianne,” Soleil said, walking behind the bar. “You fixing show him?”
“Uh huh,” Swan agreed, raising the volume of the sixty inch television.
“Are y’all, y’all are sisters?” Rachael guessed, looking at the two strawberry blonde girls.
Both nineteen year old girls were five feet and one inch in height. Both girls sported 34DD breasts with pale pink areolae not quite as large as a silver dollar, with fat nipples. Both girls had concave bellies and sweetly rounded buttocks. Both girls thought that their asses and their thighs were too big; Hunter, and the vast majority of the clients that possessed their Hunter’s Licenses thought that the girls’ asses and legs were perfection. Their present attire of pink camisole tops and G-string panties displayed their buttocks and thighs very well.
Both girls had pale complexions, had round faces with almond shaped gray blue eyes, small noses, and full pouting lips. Their teeth were white; Soleil’s mother and father had paid for orthodontic braces and Swan’s mother had decided that Swan’s teeth weren’t bad enough to warrant the expense of braces.
“Mm hmm,” Soleil agreed, wrapping Hunter in an embrace. “Baby, you making breakfast?”
“What you want?” Hunter smiled, kissing Soleil.
“Bacon omelet,” Swan demanded. “Now, come on, you going watch this?”
“Play it,” Hunter said, leaning against the bar.
Swan and Soleil flanked Hunter as they stood behind the bar. “Go All The Way’ by The Killers started to pour out of the speakers. Rachael began to bob her head and pump her arms in time to the music. On either side of Hunter, the girls bounced and bobbed along with the beat.
The black screen suddenly showed a bright green mop of short hair and bright pink lips. There were two distinct white lines running from the bottom lip down into the blackness. The camera backed away from the bobbing, swaying mop of green and the pink lips. The irregular white lines continued downward along the blackness, coming to rest just above a bright pink dot.
“That’s, is that cum?” Rachael asked, pausing in her dancing.
“Uh huh,” Soleil giggled.
“It’s really condensed milk,” Swan whispered to Hunter.
“I was wondering,” Hunter admitted.
“Come on, watch this,” Soleil demanded as Hunter gave Swan a kiss.
“I’m watching, I’m watching,” Hunter said, resting his hand on the small of Soleil’s back.
The camera continued to back away from the blacked out dancer until a bright yellow swash ran horizontally at the bottom of the screen. The yellow swash rocked and tilted, then the camera zoomed out a little more, showing two thin vertical stripes of yellow. Framed by the swash of yellow above and the two stripes of yellow on either side was an inverted triangle of bright green. Bisecting the green triangle from the point to the base was a thin bright pink stripe.
With one more zoom out, the screen now showed the dancer, from bright green mop of short hair to her bright yellow stockings and high heels. Suddenly, a bright blue dot appeared at the left of the screen.
Rachael now stood, intently watching the television. She did not bounce or jiggle with the loud music; just kept her eyes on the screen.
“That’s a cock?” Rachael guessed as nearly all of the bright blue phallus was now visible.
“It feels so right,” Soleil sang along with the song. “Feels so right, being with you here tonight.”
“That’s not the original,” Hunter guessed.
“Nope. That’s the Killers,” Swan agreed as the floating blue dong approached the dancer. They had one with Matthew Sweet and some Suzanna girl, but God! Guy can’t sing; sounded like crap.”
The dancer got on her knees and gave the bright blue cock a kiss. The cock then swiveled from its horizontal pose to facing the floor. The dong dropped very close to the floor as indicated by the dancer’s shoes. Then the cock swiveled again and its head pointed skyward. With a smirk curling the dancer’s left corner of her cum-smeared lips, the dancer wiggled in her kneeling position to her left then squatted down further. The dancer spread her legs wide, bringing her bright yellow knees to the floor.
The camera angle shifted slightly to the left; this camera angle also zoomed in very close to the bright green triangle. The bright pink line that bisected the triangle from point to base appeared larger in this angle. The bright yellow horizontal swash and the two thin yellow lines and the tops of the yellow stockings were visible. The bright blue dong was just barely visible at the bottom of the screen. As the music continued, the bright blue dong approached the green triangle.
“Please, go all the way,” Soleil sang. “Just hold me close, hold me close.”
The dong pushed at the bright pink line. There seemed to be some resistance, then the bright pink line opened and became two pink lips. The lips swallowed the blue dong. The quite large blue cock pushed into the pinkness.
“Nuh uh,” Rachael said, watching as the blue dong pumped in and out of the green furred pussy.
Hunter felt Swan’s hand reach over and give his painfully hard cock a gentle squeeze. Hunter jerked at the contact; he’d been engrossed in the obscene action on the screen.
The dancer’s hips began to buck; the green triangle and the yellow garter belt bounced up and down rapidly. The blue dong slipped in and out of the bright pink flesh.
A bright white liquid began to ooze out of the bright pink lips, dribbling over inky blackness onto the tops of the yellow stockings.
As the song’s outro sounded; the camera angle now showed the entire form of the kneeling dancer, her mop of green hair, her smeared lips, the rivulets of cum running from lips over unseen blackness to her right areole. The bright green triangle had rivulets of white dribbling over blackness onto bright yellow stockings.
“Is he…” Soleil asked Swan, her own hand reaching for Hunter’s cock.
“Mm hmm,” Swan giggled, turning off the television.
“Who was that?” Rachael asked, looking away from the silent television.
“Come on, Baby, make us breakfast,” Soleil playfully whined, ignoring Rachael’s question.
“Rachael? You want breakfast?” Hunter asked, turning to the cast iron flat griddle.
“I uh, yeah, I guess,” Rachael agreed. “I mean, usually don’t eat it, but…”
“Oh no, you got to eat breakfast,” Soleil insisted.
“Uh huh, ‘especially if you’re going to dance,” Swan added.
“See, breakfast? Jump starts your metabolism. It also gives you the energy your body needs to keep going,” Soleil continued.
“That way? You don’t just eat a big old lunch, then a big old dinner,” Swan stated. “Good breakfast? Good lunch, then just a small dinner. In Europe, their suppers aren’t the biggest meal of the day like here.”
“I don’t argue with them,” Hunter smiled as he rapidly diced up a tomato. “It’s like they’re pee sigh chick or something.”
“Shut up! Soleil, he’s being a big old meanie pie to me. Tell him stop,” Swan giggled.
“Soleil? And Swan?” Rachael asked.
“Don’t ask us,” Soleil shrugged. “IT’s what our mommas named us.”
“Mommas? As in more than one? I thought y’all were twins or something,” Rachael said.
“I quit trying figure them out years ago,” Hunter said, placing three plates onto the bar.
After they’d finished their breakfasts, Soleil and Swan kissed Hunter, then told Rachael they’d see her later. They unlocked a door to the right of the bar then closed it behind themselves.
“What’s that?” Rachael asked, pointing to the door.
“Goes up to our apartment,” Hunter said, stirring one pot of barbeque sauce.
“Let me guess, Dawn’s sick,” Annie Sullivan, Desiree said, coming into the bar from the front door.
“Uh huh. Annie, this is Rachael.” Hunter said. “Buddy let you in?”
“Sure did,” Buddy said, entering the bar. “Tried not to, but she started that crying and begging and whining shit and you know I just can’t stand that crying shit.”
“What. Ever,” Annie smiled. “Come on, I’ll show you your locker; Hunter, you didn’t already do that, huh?”
“Nope. Figured either you or Bonnie would do that. She’s working the floor this morning, okay?” Hunter agreed.
“Hang on! Rachael Dunn! Lady Jays volleyball what, two years back,” buddy said to Hunter as Annie and Rachael went into the backstage area.
“And get her a uniform,” Hunter called out.
To Buddy, Hunter lowered his voice and said, “Uh huh, she’s the one bobbled that serve that gave the game to Harvester’s.”
Rachael fit in almost seamlessly. She kept the lunches moving, kept her eye on the customer’s drinks and kept a sassy little smile pasted on her face. Her Hunter’s Cabin uniform fit her nicely, showing off her long legs and round backside, as well as a lean, toned tummy.
During the day, Soleil or Swan would saunter behind the bar and grab the remote control for the television. ‘Go All The Way’ certainly had the attention of many of the customers. ‘Lips Like Sugar’ was also a crowd-pleaser.
“Damn, can’t wait see what y’all come up with for tomorrow,” Curtis opined and signaled to Rachael that he wanted another drink.
“That’s his fourth one,” Hunter told the girl. “Make him give you his keys, or bring the drink back to me.”
“Yes Daddy, here you go,” Curtis snapped, but did hand his keys to Rachael.
“Thanks, Mr. Curtis,” Hunter said, not offended by the man’s unhappy remark. “Good customers are hard to come by; want to keep the ones we got.”
“So, what shift works best for you?” Hunter asked Rachael as she ate a late lunch.
“Well, Jason? At the Captain’s Table? Dick kept giving me the early shift,” Rachael mused. “But they didn’t have lunches, so it was usually just a bunch of old drunks in there.”
“Okay,” Hunter said and waited.
“I’ll be dancing tomorrow?” Rachael verified.
“Mm hmm,” Hunter said and smiled when Soleil hugged him from behind before grabbing the remote control.
‘Lips Like Sugar’ began and Rachael watched the obscene action on the screen. Soleil danced, making sure to rub against Hunter, performing a lap dance on him, even though she was not on his lap.
“Know what? Where ever you put me is fine,” Rachael declared, pushing her empty plate away.
“Let me put you on late shift; let you see how they work,” Hunter decided and Rachael nodded in agreement.
“His pulled pork is the best, isn’t it?” Soleil called out over the music.
“Mm hmm, and that potato salad is killer,” Rachael agreed, and approached a customer’s table.
“Aw yeah, lips like sugar,” Patrick said into his microphone. “And here comes a girl whose kisses are even sweeter and she gives me fever, Juliette.”
Swan/Juliette came out as ‘Fever’ by Bullets For My Valentine pumped out of the speakers.
“How would he know what her kisses are like?” Soleil giggled and gave Hunter another kiss.
“Guess I talk too much,” Hunter suggested and squeezed Soleil’s buttocks before she could escape his grasp.
“Bring in your own music if you want Patrick or John-John playing that,” Hunter told Rachael as she prepared to leave. “No rap music. Customers here don’t like that stuff. You don’t have your own music? You’ll be dancing to whatever they feel like playing. Mostly hard rock stuff.”
“No, I got couple CDs,” Rachael agreed.
“And need to tell whoever’s deejaying what your name is,” Hunter continued.
“Krystel,” Rachael smiled. “Like the champagne.”
“Okay, see you at six,” Hunter agreed.
The following morning, when Dawn again called in sick, Hunter let her know she would not be coming back to work for Hunter’s Cabin until he saw a doctor’s note. After all, Hunter did not want to take any chances that his other girls might catch whatever illness Dawn had that kept her out for four straight days. Hunter had a feeling that he would not hear from Dawn again.
The delivery man again looked around, and was disappointed that there were no girls visible. Hunter smiled and accepted the delivery of fresh buns. He picked up the remote control for the television and accessed ‘Go All The Way’ for the man.
“You know, if you got your Hunter’s License, you could come in and see our girls any time you wanted to,” Hunter suggested as the man goggled at the obscene sight of an unseen dancer fucking herself with a bright blue dong.
“Yeah, right, like my wife would ever let me do that,” the man said sourly.
Hunter said nothing as he turned to check the brisket. Spuntzin Breads was a local bakery and delivered a good, fresh product at a reasonable price. It wasn’t Matt Spuntzin’s fault that his delivery man was a spineless wimp.
“Good grief,” the delivery man said weakly when the song finished.
“Mm hmm,” Hunter agreed and stirred the barbeque sauce.
“I mean to tell you…” the delivery man mumbled as he walked to the rear door.
“Pussy,” Hunter said to himself as the door shut behind the man.
“Okay, got another one,” Swan announced as she and Soleil entered the bar.
“Another one what?” Hunter asked and accepted their kisses.
“Another one what? What you think? Another video,” Swan said, mashing the buttons of the remote.
The trio leaned against the bar to watch the television. Hunter frowned; he recognized the song, but could not think of the name of the song or the artist.
“Curve,” Soleil answered Hunter’s unasked question as a bright orange mop of hair appeared on the black screen.
“I feel love,” Swan identified the song as the bright lips and the rivulets of ‘cum’ appeared on the screen.
“This is the coolest song,” Soleil enthused as the two areolae appeared, the ‘cum’ trailing down to the right nipple.
“Uh huh,” Hunter agreed as both Swan and Soleil shimmied and bumped against him.
The garter belt was a violet color and the pubic mound was capped with a bright orange thatch. ‘Cum’ ran from the thin pink line, over black darkness to the tops of the bright violet stocking tops.
“And, say hello to my little friend,” Hunter smiled as a green dot appeared at the left of the screen.
“Uh huh,” Soleil giggled.
The vibrant green dong approached the jostling, jiggling girl. When it brushed against her violet colored garter belt, the dancer again knelt and took the entire dong into her mouth, swallowing it from sight. A few seconds later, the dong popped from the dancer’s lips.
The scene shifted to a rear view of the dancer’s kneeling form. All that was visible was the short cap of orange hair, the garter belt and two thin vertical lines of violet attached to the tops of the dancer’s violet stockings.
“Oh, you’re not going to…” Hunter said as the camera zoomed in for a close up of the garter belt and stockings.
The dancer obviously leaned forward, placing her hands flat on the floor; visible now, just below the garter belt was a bright pink dot. Just below that pink dot was a thin pink line with some white smeared in, and a few tendrils of bright orange.
The green dong appeared in the screen, just above the pink dot. The dong traveled over the pink dot, down to the pink line. The dong traveled up and down the pink line, gathering some of the bright white fluid on its tip.
“Oh,” Hunter let out an involuntary groan as the green dong pressed itself against the pink dot.
The camera zoomed in, giving a close up of the dong and the bright pink dot. The dong bumped into the bright pink dot a few times. Hunter let out another groan as the pink dot flowered open, allowing the head of the green dong to enter.
“Shit!” Hunter cried out as Soleil’s finger’s caressed his throbbing erection through his camouflage shorts.
“Aw, Baby, you mess up your shorts?” Soleil giggled, continuing to rub Hunter’s cock as his ejaculation seeped through his briefs and shorts.
On the screen, the dong plunged in and out of the bright pink rectum. The scene cut suddenly to show the entire dancer from her right side. Her head was thrown back in an unheard cry of ecstasy, her pink lips were open. The green dong could be seen briefly as it plunged in and out of sight. The violet garter belt, stockings and shoes were also visible in this angle.
The scene cut again to show a close up of dong and anus. Suddenly, bright white globs appeared, ringing the bright pink anus. Then a dribble of the white began to ooze out of the bottom, dripping from anus to the thin pink line and bright orange hair. Some droplets of the white dripped freely from the dancer’s flesh, most likely onto the floor between her spread knees.
“Your ass isn’t sore from that?” Hunter asked Soleil.
“What? Wait, how you know that’s me?” Soleil asked.
“Because, Sweetheart,” Hunter smiled, rubbing her satin covered buttocks. “Your camera work sucks. You get the girl’s boobs in the picture? You chop off the top of her head. You get her puss in the picture? Can’t see her boobs or her face. There? All of her is visible, in the frame perfectly. So, if Swan’s the one doing the camera work, Soleil’s the one on her knees.”
“Now, thanks to your sister,” Hunter said, squeezing Swan’s buttocks through the satin of her pink teddy. “Your breakfast will be late; I need to change.”
“Bitch! You made him come?” Swan shrilled at Soleil.
“Jealous?” Soleil teased as Hunter opened the door to their stairwell.
“Yeah,” Swan giggled.
“What about you?” Soleil asked, running her hand over Swan’s satin covered crotch. “That get you wet?”
“What you think?” Swan said, squeezing Soleil in a hug.
The two girls kissed, then opened their mouths. Swan sucked Soleil’s tongue into her mouth, then pushed her tongue into Soleil’s mouth. Soleil’s fingers traced Swan’s beautiful face as they kissed.
“Love you,” Soleil whispered and bit Swan’s bottom lip softly.
“Love you more,” Swan whispered and kissed Soleil.
“Need to use up them buns from yesterday,” Hunter said as Soleil eased the spaghetti straps from Swan’s shoulders.
“Mm hmm,” Swan cooed as Soleil hefted Swan’s left breast in her small hands.
“Take that somewhere else if y’all want breakfast,” Hunter groaned, watching Soleil suckle Swan’s fat nipple.
“Soleil, quit. I’m hungry,” Swan whined, even as her hand rubbed her own satin covered crotch.
“Okay,” Soleil said, releasing Swan’s hard nipple.
She gave Swan a soft kiss on the lips, then helped Swan push her breast back into her teddy. She kissed Swan again and smiled.
“For now,” Soleil agreed.
“Why you never eat breakfast” Swan asked Hunter as she and Soleil took their seats at the bar.
“Had breakfast at six this morning, while you two lazy butts were still sleeping,” Hunter smiled.
“Six? What you doing up at six?” Soleil asked.
“Before or after my five mile run?” Hunter asked. “You think that brisket cooks itself? Or that pork?”
“I wouldn’t run five miles if I had to,” Swan said, shaking her head.
Hunter quickly whisked up an egg custard, dredged the buns through the thick custard, then dropped them onto the sizzling griddle. He flipped the pieces over and browned them on the two sides. Then he dusted them with confectioner’s sugar and put the plates in front of his girls.
“And,” he said, putting a bottle of maple syrup on the bar.
“What was that weird song?” Soleil suddenly asked Swan.
“Oh come on, like I’m supposed to know what you’re talking about?” Swan asked, waiting for the bottle of maple syrup.
“That one, they kept showing it on TV; everyone was all crazy about it,” Soleil pressed, handing the bottle to Swan. “With those two girls?”
“You’re going have play it for me; I don’t have a clue,” Swan shook her head.
“Baby, how you always get it so perfect?” Soleil praised Hunter, mouth still full of food.
“Hey, was thinking I’d put you on morning and you on night, what you think?” Hunter asked, cleaning the griddle.
“I uh, yeah, okay,” Swan agreed, scraping the last of her breakfast off of the plate.
“Okay, when you say ‘you and you’ you know you really need to say who you’re talking to,” Soleil said, pushing her plate away.
“It matter which one I’m talking to? You two figure it out,” Hunter smiled.
“Rock paper scissors?” Swan asked Soleil.
“No, you go ahead; I know you’re still tired,” Soleil offered. “I’ll take the morning shift.”
“You’re the best,” Swan said, kissing Soleil.
“I know you know what song I’m talking about,” Soleil said as they walked to the door of the stairwell.
“That weird song. That really spells it out, Soleil,” Swan complained.
“The one, those Russian girls,” Soleil insisted as the door closed.
Hunter checked his brisket and his pork before turning his attention to his barbeque beans. He drizzled some maple syrup into the bubbling mass and stirred the sweet liquid in before reducing the temperature on the beans.
The lunch crowd was heavy; the first and the fifteenth of the month was when the local cotton mills paid their employees. Two other local manufacturers paid their crews every Friday, so Hunter, and his crew could expect a mild run on the First and Fifteenth of every month and every Friday of the week.
That evening, Rachael smiled and greeted Hunter as she came in. On the stage, Soleil was finishing her last set. John-John called out ‘Julianne’ before introducing Valentina was coming to the stage.
“Hey, glad you’re here,” Soleil smiled at Rachael. “Good night, Sweetheart, see you later, okay?”
“Love you,” Hunter said and bent to kiss her.
They hugged for a long moment while Annie/Desiree pretended to drum her fingers in impatience on the bar. With another tight embrace, Soleil waved away Annie’s pretended annoyance with a laugh. At the door of the stairwell, Soleil blew Hunter a kiss before unlocking the door.
“Uh, think you can uh make me a whiskey sour? And a gin gimlet?” I mean, if you’re not too busy,” Annie huffed as she drew two draft beers.
“I guess,” Hunter smiled and began making the drinks.
“He’s so in love with his wife, it’s sickening,” Annie confided to Rachael.
“His…Wife?” Rachael asked as Swan came out of the door of the stairwell.
“Hey! You’re here!” Swan greeted Rachael happily.
“Whiskey sour, gin gimlet, bad attitude,” Hunter called out, putting the two glasses onto Annie’s tray.
Rachael had been surprised to find out that Soleil was Hunter’s wife. Her surprise turned to confusion when Hunter and Swan repeated the kiss and hug that Hunter and Soleil had shared just moments earlier.
“Oh, before I forget,” Hunter told Rachael, “Annie’s out tomorrow so I got you coming in for the lunch shift, okay?”
“Yeah,” Rachael agreed, heading toward the backstage area.
“What about Dominique?” Swan asked before heading to the backstage area.
“Back in school, remember? Wants all night shifts,” Hunter said as The African-American girl hurried into the bar.
Dominique smiled and waved at Hunter before hurrying to the backstage area. Hunter smiled as Annie gave him another drink order.
“All right, all right, all right! For the first time at Hunter’s Cabin, y’all all get ready for Krystel!” Patrick announced as Curve’s ‘Already Yours’ started to play.
Rachael’s outfit of tank top and Daisy Duke Shorts seemed a little odd to Hunter, but he shrugged it off. She’d been a dancer at The Captain’s Table; Jason, the manager of The Captain’s Table was a sleazy, slimy individual, but he did know how to run a Gentlemen’s Club.
Rachael performed a handstand, spreading her long legs into a perfect leg split. Her buttocks spread, displaying the very thin line of denim between her butt cheeks.
She performed a back flip then did a split that had her on the floor. A customer approached, five dollar bill in hand. Rachael smiled a sassy, knowing smile as the man slid the five dollar bill under her thigh garter.
When she’d gathered twenty dollars, Rachael tugged the front of her tank top and tore the garment away. This revealed her bright red half-cup bra.
Rachael continued to mix acrobatic maneuvers with sexual thrusts and grinds. When Rachael was down to miniscule red lace thong, while Ladytron’s ‘Turn It On’ boomed out, Rachael reached into the front of her thong, fiddled around for a moment, then began to pull a long strand of gleaming white beads out of her thong.
“Fuck me!” Curtis exclaimed, watching as Rachael produced a sixty inch strand of white beads.
Rachel looped the strand of beads around her neck, squatted, and rubbed a loop of the beads up and down the crotch of her lacy panties. Curtis came up and slid a twenty dollar bill into her garter belt. With a smile, Rachael stood, slid the panties down and off, then strutted around the stage, proudly displaying her nude body.
“Yes sir, that was Krystel,” Patrick said as Ladytron began to fade out. “Yes sir, Krystel. Now, you know Juliette was just born to be wild.”
Riot’s version of ‘Born To Be Wild’ began to pound out. Swan came out, wearing her leather jacket and leather skirt and thigh high boots.
Diamond/Dominique’s last song was ending when Swan came behind the bar. Hunter did not wait for her demand; he handed her the television remote control.
“Good thing; Krystel’s been in the Deer Stand since she came off,” Hunter said as Swan brought up the latest video.
“I know; you believe them beads?” Swan asked and raised the volume of the television.
“Okay, y’all got to tell me who that is,” Dominique demanded, watching the lewd black light action on the screen.
“What?” Hunter asked, mouth open in feigned surprise. “You mean, that’s not you?” Swan, you told me…”
“Ain’t no way that’s me,” Dominique laughed as the video ended. “My boobs ain’t that big.”
“All right, all right, all right, Hunter’s Cabin, here she is again, Krystel,” Patrick announced as Krystel came out, wearing bustier and matching thong panties and fish net stockings.
The beads were looped around her neck and she used them to ‘flail’ herself, or to rub over her smallish breasts, or over her lace covered crotch. She smiled her sassy little smile as men gave her their dollar bills.
“You know, her girlfriend’s like, got a bunch of money,” Swan confided to Hunter. “Really don’t like her dancing anywhere.”
“If her girlfriend’s got a bunch of money, what’s she doing here?” Hunter asked and quickly made the drinks that April/Britney ordered.
“Says she wants to get away from Layla. She’s this real control freak,” Swan said. “There any brisket left?”
“Nope. How ’bout a hamburger?” Hunter offered.
“Okay,” Swan agreed and gave Hunter a kiss.
The smell of the sizzling hand formed meat patty was the catalyst; April/Britney and Swan/Juliette suddenly had orders for hamburgers or cheeseburgers and Hunter’s signature blue cheese fries. Hunter made sure he set Swan’s burger and blue cheese fries aside. She gave him another kiss before grabbing her now cold hamburger and hurrying backstage. Hunter played the ‘Lips Like Sugar’ video to give Swan time to eat, then shed her Hunter’s Cabin uniform and wiggle into her next outfit.
At the end of the night, Patrick and John-John took turns walking the girls to their vehicles. So far, they’d never had trouble with any customers lingering around, hoping to accost any of their dancers. But all it took was one overly zealous customer to harass a girl to scare off dancers from working at a nightclub.
“Rachael said she’s going talk with a couple of the girls at The Captain’s Table,” Swan tiredly informed Hunter as they climbed the steps to their apartment. “Said she likes working here.”
“Good, good,” Hunter yawned, thinking it might be a good time to interview for an assistant manager.
“That mean you’d have a little more time for your wife?” Soleil asked, running a finger up and down her wet pussy lips.
“Or me?” Swan asked, dropping her camouflage shorts to the floor.
“Maybe,” Hunter smiled, dropping his own shorts to the floor of the bedroom.
The three easily swung into a daisy chain. Hunter fed his erection to Swan’s hungry mouth while he thrust his tongue and his fingers into Soleil’s wet pussy. Soleil glued her mouth to Swan’s pussy.
“No, I want this in me,” Swan demanded, stroking Hunter’s fat cock. “Okay? I want to feel you shooting your stuff up in me.”
“Then come on,” Hunter agreed, rolling onto his back.
Soleil squatted over Hunter’s face, gripping the rung of their cast iron bed. Swan eagerly squatted over Hunter’s erection and groaned as he slid up into her.
Swan was the first to achieve orgasm. Soleil was quick to follow. Both Swan and Hunter groaned in pleasure as he pumped a hot load of his sperm into Swan’s pussy.
“Give me,” Soleil demanded, flopping onto her back and opening her mouth wide.
“Damn, greedy bitch,” Swan giggled, but did straddle Soleil’s face.
Swan then leaned forward and began to lick up and down Soleil’s lightly furred crotch. Within moments, both girls were grunting, then groaning in pleasure.
The next morning, the bread was delivered. Hunter did not offer to play any videos for the delivery man; just thanked him for the delivery.
Indeed and LinkedIn both promised him results. Checking his description of the job duties, Hunter smiled tiredly. Apparently, he did a lot more work than he’d realized. Perhaps he should also look into hiring a second bartender.
“Hi Sweetheart,” Swan cooed, skipping into the bar.
“Hi Sweetheart,” Soleil echoed, following her sister.
“Potato pancakes,” Hunter said and began to fry the four heavy pancakes for them.
He dressed each pancake with a smear of sour cream then put the bottle of maple syrup on the counter.
He was glad the bread man had already gone; both Swan and Soleil were dressed in gauzy baby doll nighties that did little to hide their pink areolae on pinkish orange pussy hair. He was sure, as they straddled the bar stools, much of their delectable rumps were visible in their lacy thong panties.
Mm,” Swan approved of their meal.
“And if I hired a cook,” Hunter thought, watching their sweetly rounded buttocks as they skipped to the stairwell, “I could go up with them, have a little morning fun.”
Many of the applications he received, Hunter set aside. Of the nine he kept in the ‘Definitely Maybe’ stack, two were thrown out; Hunter had not liked their responses during the telephone interview. There were three females among the nine ‘Definitely Maybe’ pile and one woman was among the two he’d thrown out.
Upon finding out that Hunter’s Cabin was a Gentlemen’s Club, another female and a male removed themselves from consideration. Reading through the job description again, Hunter wondered how Bobbi Fischer and Hank Hiemlin had missed the fact that Hunter’s Cabin was a Gentlemen’s Club.
“Darlene Richards?” Hunter asked.
“It’s pronounced REE chards,” a husky female voice tittered. “This is she.”
“Hi, this is Hunter, from Hunter’s Cabin,” Hunter said. “I uh, got your resume; you’re in ah, DeGarde? Louisiana?”
“Yes,” Darlene agreed. “Looking for a change of scenery so when I saw your thing on LinkedIn, I said, ‘Okay! That’s it!'”
Worked for uh, Babbage’s Department Store,” Hunter read aloud from her resume.
“Was the assistant manager for six years, got bumped up to manager when Debbie left,” Darlene agreed.
“And, how do you think that being a manager of a lingerie department will help you in managing a Gentlemen’s club?” Hunter asked.
“I have to juggle the schedules of five to seven full-time girls, two or three part-timers, plus seasonal helpers,” Darlene said. “Dealing with their little temper tantrums, plus the extremely entitled, snotty women that frequent our store? If I can do that, without going crazy or killing any of them little bitches, dealing with dancers and customers should be easy enough.”
Hunter had to smile; Darlene’s voice carried an underlying sense of humor in her words. And, he did know the difficulty of dealing with women and their feelings and learning when to be flexible and when to be firm.
“This kind of puzzles me,” he admitted, reading her resume. “Elgee Culinary College? And, uh, Pinoak School of Mixology? Why did you study any of that?”
“My step-father said if I ever got married, it would be because of my looks and not my cooking,” Darlene admitted. “Pissed me off, but damned if it wasn’t the truth. So I took their night time beginner’s course; four hours Tuesday and Thursday nights. And the Bartending School was just for fun. See, Tom? My step-father, and Mandy, my sister, they’re both bartenders at The Dead End. That’s one of them Gentlemen’s Clubs here in DeGarde. So, I took the classes, figuring I could fall back on that if I ever decided to walk away from Babbage’s.”
“And, why are you walking away from Babbage’s?” Hunter asked. “Seems like you’ve got a pretty good career going on there.”
“Getting a divorce,” Darlene said. “And Billy’s mother and grandmother have started putting the screws to Mr. Bancroft; he’s the owner of Babbage’s.”
“Sorry, divorce sucks,” Hunter commiserated.
“Yeah, well…” Darlene said.
“Okay, I’d like to interview you; when do you think you could come in?” Hunter asked.
“Myndee is…” Darlene mused aloud. “Off Wednesday, Wednesday morning?”
“Ten o’clock,” Hunter agreed.
The four men, Hunter had them come in while the club was in operations. Three failed immediately; they could not take their eyes off of the girls. Hunter had to constantly snap his fingers to get their attention.
The last one, Hunter had a good feeling about Brett Hildebrand. His resume was good; he’d been an assistant manager of Club Landslide, a Gentlemen’s Club in Benhurst, Colorado. His answers were good. He did look around at the flesh on display; Hunter had to shrug at that. He too did look at the flesh on display. But when Hunter asked Brett a question, Brett was focused enough to answer Hunter’s questions.
“Got one more coming in,” Hunter said as they concluded the casual interview.
“Oh, okay, so my first duty as your assistant manager will be to tell him the job’s already taken?” Brett smiled easily.
“And after that interview, I’ll be making my decision,” Hunter smiled. “So, I’ll let you know, hmm, by twelve, twelve thirty tomorrow. Okay?”
“He’s cute,” Swan said to Hunter as Brett left the nightclub.
“What? Girl, don’t need be looking at him, hear?” Hunter said lightly.
“Hey, just saying,” she smiled up at him.
“God, she plays some weird music, huh?” April asked, watching as Rachael flailed her nude body with her long strand of faux pearls.
“Uh huh,” Swan agreed, even as her head bobbed and her buttocks shimmied to ‘Enslaved’ by Diva Destruction.
“Don’t think whole bunch of them are even noticing the music,” Soleil said, nodding toward the group of customers. “Give me the remote.”
“Magic word, might have heard of it? Called ‘please,'” Hunter teased her.
“Please give me the remote,” Soleil said, rolling her eyes at him.
“Almost better,” Hunter said, handing her the remote control.
‘Lips Like Sugar’ began to play. Again, Soleil began to grind against her husband as the music played. She made sure to ‘accidentally’ grope his erection as the music played and the unseen woman on the screen performed fellatio on the large dildo.
“That? Watching myself like…oh! Gets me going,” Soleil confessed to Swan.
“Uh huh,” Swan agreed, giving Soleil a quick kiss on her lips before approaching a table of men.
A moment later, Swan put in drink orders for the table. Behind her, the screen showed ‘semen’ leaking from the dancer’s lips. Hunter pointed toward the stage and Swan nodded her head. Soleil took the drinks to the table. Hunter was sure none of the men could tell the difference between Swan and Soleil.
“Patrick, keep an eye on the place,” Hunter asked as he walked toward the stairwell.
“Got it, boss man,” Patrick agreed and queued up Swan’s first song.
‘Club Landslide,” a somewhat bored man intoned, then launched into their catch phrase, “‘An avalanche of the finest titties Colorado has to offer.'”
“Cute,” Hunter said. “Hey, listen, this is Hunter with Hunter’s Cabin, calling about a uh, a Brett Hildebrand? Said he worked for y’all?”
“Oh yeah,” the man said, his displeasure readily apparent.
“So, what kind of manager was he?” Hunter asked.
“Okay, know how we got all these laws; all I can say is he worked here from month and year to month and year?” the man said. “Hey, Lacy, come talk to this guy; he’s calling about Brett.”
“What you want to know about that ass hole?” Lacy asked, her dislike of Brett Hildebrand very evident.
“Don’t need to know anything; you’ve said it all,” Hunter said.
“Look, only reason he lasted as long as he did? His cousin Duncan owns the place,” the man said, coming back onto the phone. “And if he put Cunning Stunts down, don’t bother calling them. He lasted all of a week there.”
“No, he didn’t put Cunning Stunts on here,” Hunter said, looking at Brett’s resume again. “Myra’s Boutique? That’s not a Gentlemen’s Club, is it?”
“It’s a hoity-toity clothing place,” the man verified.
Leslie Bogdanovich, the manager of Myra’s Boutique verified that Brett Hildebrand had worked for Myra’s Boutique. Other than firmly stating that Brett would not ever be rehired to work for Myra’s Boutique, the woman did not give Hunter any information.
A call to a buddy with the Clarkston County Police department revealed that Brett Hildebrand had a bench warrant out for failure to appear on a domestic abuse case. Hunter shook his head as he gave his thanks to his friend. Obviously, Brett Hildebrand was a bit of a sociopath. And a skilled sociopath; Hunter had not picked up on any of the man’s character flaws.
“Good God, hope Denise, no, Darlene does a little better,” Hunter said, leaving the apartment and walking down the stairs again.
Darlene Richards, formerly Darlene Arneaux was early for her job interview and followed the Spuntzin Bread man into Hunter’s Cabin. The man gawked at the beautiful blonde woman as she perched on a bar stool and waited for Hunter to finish his business with the delivery man.
“I uh, you going be a dancer here?” the man finally braved asking Darlene.
“Only if we’re short-handed,” Darlene smiled easily.
Hunter’s eyebrows did raise at that statement. Darlene Richards stood five feet, six inches tall. Her waist length hair was a very light blonde and her eyes were large and blue. Her nose was a slim nose and her lips were pale pink, pouting.
For the job interview, Darlene had chosen to wear a knee length skirt and light colored button up blouse. The skirt revealed shapely legs, the top did not conceal Darlene’s impressive chest. Skirt and blouse also showed off Darlene’s slim waist and nicely rounded hips and buttocks.
“Oh, so uh, you’re not going to be…” the man asked, clearly disappointed.
“Thank you, see you tomorrow,” Hunter said firmly to the man.
“Baby, you do them waffles? Hi, I’m Swan,” Swan said, entering the lounge from their stairwell door.
“With the cinnamon?” Soleil agreed. “Please? Pretty please?”
“Darlene, this is my wife, Soleil, and her sister Swan,” Hunter did the introductions as he began measuring out the ingredients for the waffles.
“Her sister?” Swan asked as she perched on a bar stool. “Uh, what about…”
“And, go put some clothes on; I’m interviewing your new boss, huh?” Hunter asked.
“Aw, you liked this just fine last night,” Soleil teased, modeling the white satin teddy.
“Aren’t they usually naked?” Darlene asked as Swan modeled her own pink satin teddy.
“Yeah, yeah when they’re dancing,” Hunter smiled.
“Then, what they got on, its fine by me,” Darlene shrugged.
As Hunter made six waffles, putting two on each plate, he interviewed Darlene. She admitted, she’d started working at Babbage’s while she was still in high school and had no illusions; she’d gotten the job solely because of her looks. After graduating from high school, somewhere toward the bottom of her class, she’d gone from part time to full time at the trendy department store.
“You’re not eating?” Darlene suddenly asked, fork suspended between plate and mouth.
“He gets up at six,” Swan informed Darlene.
“No. I get up at five,” Hunter said. “I run at six.”
“Oh. Okay, so, what else do you want to know?” Darlene said, swallowing her mouthful of waffle.
“Well, I want to ask how old you are, but I’m not supposed to. I want to ask why you’re getting a divorce, but I’m not supposed to. I want to know why you’re willing to move what? Three hundred miles away from your home town; wait. I think I can ask that one,” Hunter said.
“Twenty nine, will be thirty in a few months,” Darlene shrugged. “Getting a divorce because Billy turned out to be something other than what he pretended to be. And I’m willing to move to get away from Billy and his family, and to a degree, to get away from my own family. Looking at Mandy and Tom just reminds me…”
Billy Richards had come into Babbage’s, to buy some clothing for his daughter. Darlene happened to be filling in at the Baby Boutique section; Emily was out sick and Terri was at lunch. Even though Billy was seven years younger than Darlene, Darlene found herself attracted to the young man. He was handsome, had a well-defined body and possessed a skillful tongue, at least when it came to talking to women.
His story of a former girlfriend breaking up with him, then disclosing her pregnancy tugged at Darlene’s heartstrings. The unnamed girlfriend’s callous refusal to allow Billy access to his own daughter sparked moral outrage in Darlene.
“Yeah, finally had to take Tiff to court,” Billy said. “And, this is my first weekend with my baby girl, so I need some clothes, need pajamas, oh! Going need diapers; y’all got that?”
Laci Gernaud was approaching four months of age. Darlene helped Billy find appropriate clothing for the child, helped him purchase cloth diapers and rubber pants.
A few days later, Billy returned to Babbage’s Department store. He went to the Baby Boutique and Terri steered him toward the Lingerie section. Billy thanked Darlene for her assistance; the clothes fit perfectly. The cloth diapers were also great; helped clear up a mild diaper rash Laci had developed from the disposable diapers her mother was using. Then he asked Darlene for a date.
Billy had shoulder length blond hair, a strong, square face, soulful brown eyes. He drove a brand new Ford F250 and had a ready source of cash. Their first date was to Radcliffe’s for fine French dining. Their second date was to Side By Side Steakhouse.
Seven months later, Darlene and Billy were married. The Richards family insisted on a pre-nuptial contract and Darlene readily agreed. She brought the contract to Penny Jones, an attorney that frequented the lingerie section of Babbage’s and Penny suggested some minor changes. All parties were ameniable and the wedding went off without a hiccup.
Two years after marrying Billy, Darlene saw who and what Billy truly was. Among the ‘idle rich’ Billy was comatose wealthy. He was a spoiled little boy that had never grown up; part of his boyish charm. The boyish charm wasn’t so charming when Darlene had to work all day, then come home to a petulant and whining man that wanted to be fed. And after being fed, Billy wanted sex. He did not seem to understand his wife’s aversion to sex with him.
“Billy, it ever occur to you to put your cereal bowl into the dishwasher?” Darlene asked.
“Hmm? Oh! I thought I had,” Billy said.
“Really? When it’s sitting right there? On the coffee table?” Darlene asked. “Right in front of you? But you thought you’d put it up?”
“Billy, I know you know where the vacuum cleaner is; you left it in the hall when you got your golf clubs out the other day,” Darlene said. “Here’s an idea; get it out and run it over the floor every now and then.”
“Billy, Jesus! You can’t tell me you can’t see how disgusting that toilet is,” Darlene shrilled.
“Gee, I wonder why I’m not in the mood to fuck,” Darlene muttered to herself.
The day after their second year anniversary, Billy took Darlene to Benito’s Fine Italian restaurant to celebrate their anniversary. They went the day after, because Billy had forgotten the day of their anniversary. Their waitress was a very attractive red head with pneumatic breasts that rivaled Darlene’s own substantial chest.
“She’s pretty hot, huh?” Billy asked Darlene.
“Hmm? Our waitress? Yeah, I guess,” Darlene agreed.
“You uh, you ever done it? With a woman?” Billy asked as Darlene nibbled on a breadstick.
Darlene didn’t answer. She knew no matter what her answer was, Billy would use her words in an attempt to manipulate and coerce her into sex with another woman.
If Darlene said ‘yes’ she had enjoyed sex with another woman, Billy would want details. Then he would pressure Darlene into repeating that experience for his voyeuristic pleasure.
If Darlene said ‘no’ she had never had sex with another woman, then Billy would pressure her, telling her she owed it to herself to experience the joys and intimacies of sex with another woman. Again, the experience would be more for Billy’s voyeuristic pleasures rather than for Darlene’s physical pleasure.
Darlene had no desire to admit, yes, she’d had sex with another woman. The first had been Anna Babbage, mother of Dan Bancroft. The older woman had reverted to her maiden name after divorcing John Bancroft. Darlene’s white gold heart with three carat diamond and twenty inch white gold chain had been a gift from the older lover.
Those moments with Mrs. Bancroft were private memories that Darlene held dear to her heart. So too were her memories of making love with Stephanie Broussard, a former classmate from Northside High School. Darlene and the beautiful, plump Stephanie had run into each other at Brick’s Pizzeria. After exchanging hellos and catching up on one another’s lives since graduating high school, Stephanie invited Darlene over to the house. After a few joints of poor quality marijuana, Stephanie leaned over and kissed Darlene. Darlene had returned Stephanie’s kiss.
“Huh, you ever…” Billy pressed.
Darlene knew this would be just like the anal sex question. Darlene had admitted to having anal sex, once. She also firmly stated she had not enjoyed the dirty and painful act. But confessing that she had once had anal sex spurred Billy into insisting that they have anal sex. He continued to insist, until finally, Darlene relented.
Anal sex was still dirty, painful, and very unfulfilling. Billy, however, had enjoyed the act tremendously and pressured Darlene often to repeat the act.
“Here we are, sausage and peppers, ma’am?” The beautiful waitress smiled, placing Darlene’s plate in front of her. “And sir? The three cheese ravioli. Would either of you care for some fresh Parmesan? Or fresh black pepper?””
Both Darlene and Billy watched the waitress’s large breasts wiggle and bobble as she worked the cheese grater for Darlene’s sausage and peppers over linguini. Billy asked for pepper for his ravioli and again, the red head’s impressive chest wobbled and bobbled as she worked the simple appliance.
“You ever…” Billy started again as their waitress walked away.
“Just eat your food, Billy,” Darlene snapped. “Okay? Don’t worry about whether I’ve done anything in the past. Just eat your food.”
“Huh? You ever…” Billy asked, still chewing his mouthful of ravioli.
“And it is your weekend with Laci,” Darlene said. “I’m working a double shift this Friday. Which means it’s up to you to remember to remind her she needs to use the big girl potty and it’ll be up to you to feed her.”
“Aw, um, this weekend? Don’t we have that thing to do?” Billy asked.
“I don’t know what thing WE have to do; I’ve got a double shift at work,” Darlene said.
“And how is everything? Ma’am, more iced tea?” their waitress asked, smiling pleasantly.
“Please,” Darlene nodded her head.
“You ever…” Billy asked, looking at their waitress’s bubble butt in her snug slacks.
Darlene did not answer, just stoically ate her sausage and peppers. The meal was truly delicious, but Darlene was beyond tasting anything.
Friday evening, Darlene was not a happy woman when she wearily dragged herself into the house. She’d worked that morning in the lingerie section, then finished her evening in the Bridal section. Many customers of the lingerie section are sweet, understanding women. In the Bridal section, very few of the women thought of anything or anyone other than themselves.
“Billy, Jesus, I told you,” Darlene snapped. “You have to remind Laci to use the big girl potty. And why is she still in her jeans? When were you going to bathe her and put her into her jammies?”
“Miss D’leen, I’m hungry,” Laci informed Darlene.
“Billy, what did she have for supper?” Darlene demanded.
“I uh, shit, we had, we had,” Billy stammered.
“Come on, Laci, let’s see,” Darlene said, trying to sound cheerful for the child’s sake.
It was not Laci’s fault that her father was neglectful. It was not Laci’s fault that her father was more interested in Halo, or Grand Theft Auto, or whatever stupid video game he was playing.
“Go, go get her bath ready,” Darlene ordered Billy as she quickly scrambled some eggs for the girl.
“I’m about to…” Billy stated, game controller in hand.
“Billy, its ten o’clock,” Darlene said, ready to scream. “This child needs to be fed, and bathed, and put into her pajamas. You can play that stupid game later.”
Billy grumbled but did shut the game down. He then asked Darlene where his dinner was. Darlene’s white hot glare did not clue Billy in to his wife’s unhappiness.
“Aw, man, Laci, huh? You pooped your pants,” Billy complained when he stripped the child for her bath.
Then Billy wanted sex. Darlene fought hard against screaming, fought hard against punching her husband.
“I worked a double, come home to a hungry kid with shitty pants, and you want to fuck?” Darlene snarled through gritted teeth. “And I have to be at the store at seven; we’re doing inventory. You want to fuck? Go see if your Playstation will fuck you, God damned little boy.”
“God damn, got to be a bitch about it?” Billy whined.
“Dear Jesus, please keep me from killing this little mother fucker,” Darlene fervently prayed. “Please keep me from killing him.”
Billy was in a surly mood when Darlene woke him the next morning. She firmly reminded him that he needed to make breakfast for Laci, and also needed to monitor Laci, needed to make sure she used the potty so that she would not soil herself again.
“You need to quit that job,” Billy said. “I got plenty money; you don’t need that job.”
“No, you need to get a job,” Darlene said. “Instead of just sitting around all day. You need to see what it is that other people do.”
The inventory went smoothly and both the floor manager and Dan Bancroft, the owner of Babbage’s praised Darlene, praised the manager of the shoe department, praised the manager of the electronics department. The managers that did not receive praise did exchange worried glances with one another.
Darlene was in a jubilant mood when she arrived home. Deanne Soileau, the floor manager had hinted at a sizable raise coming Darlene’s way, possibly even a promotion to assistant floor manager.
“Not bad for a dumb blonde with big tits and no brains, huh?” Darlene crowed to herself as she drove.
The wreckage of that morning’s breakfast was still on the table, the counters, and the stove. Laci was in her room, playing with her toys, still in her pajamas. The smell was apparent from the hallway; the child had soiled herself.
Billy was slumbering on the couch, five empty bottles of Michelob on the coffee table. A college football game played, unobserved on the television.
Darlene fed Laci, gave her a bath, and dressed her in clean clothes. Then she called Tiffany Gernaud, Laci’s mother.
“Hi, Tiffany, this is Darlene,” Darlene said. “Billy’s wife?”
Tiffany agreed to take Laci a day early; the petite blonde admitted she hated Billy’s weekends; missed her little girl terribly.
“I understand,” Darlene smiled. “She’s such a sweetheart.”
Billy slept right through Darlene and Laci leaving. He was awake, drinking his seventh beer when Darlene returned from bringing Laci home to her mother’s house.
“Hey, man! They worked you late, huh?” Billy asked. “Hey, listen, since you worked your butt off all day, how ’bout I order us some Chinese, huh?”
“Sure,” Darlene shrugged, wondering when Billy would notice that Laci was not in the house.
Billy called in the order, then denied that he was too drunk to drive to Hop Kim’s; it was only five minutes away. When he’d been gone for forty minutes, Darlene shrugged and made herself dinner. She was cleaning up the kitchen when Billy called to say he’d been picked up for DUI. Darlene called Billy’s mother and let his mother know that Billy had been picked up for driving while drunk and was currently sitting in Kimble’s police department.
“And, that’s the day I decided I needed a divorce,” Darlene said, finishing her tale. “By the way, what’d you put in those waffles? That was delicious.”
“Instead of milk, I use heavy cream. And put vanilla and cinnamon in the batter,” Hunter smiled.
“You finished interviewing her? Give me the remote,” Soleil demanded.
“One more thing; when can you start?” Hunter asked, handing Soleil the remote control.
“Saturday’s my last day at Babbage’s,” Darlene said, sadness crossing her face. “Get here, look for an apartment, how about Tuesday?”
“Welcome to Hunter’s Cabin,” Hunter said. “We look forward to working with you.
‘Go All The Way’ began to play. Hunter watched the large television.
“Oh, cool! Black light?” Darlene asked as she watched the spectacle.
“Uh huh,” Soleil agreed, smiling as she watched herself perform.
“Conway Road’s got two houses for rent,” Swan said, looking at her cell phone. “Apartments, apartments, oh! Arkansas Suites. That’s right there.”
Darlene looked at the listings, got the addresses from Swan’s phone, then turned as ‘I Feel Love’ began to pump out. She shook her head and watched the lewd action on the television.
“Baby, you coming?” Soleil nodded with her head toward their stairwell’s door.
“Would love to,” Hunter shook his head as he stirred the barbeque sauce. “But we’re opening in thirty minutes.
“We’ll make it quick,” Soleil suggested, licking her lips.
“Uh, which one of you’s working the morning shift?” Hunter asked, sorely tempted.
“Shit, never mind,” Soleil stamped her foot. “Bye Darlene, great meeting you.”
“You too,” Darlene agreed, still watching the screen.
“I don’t go on until six,” Swan cooed to Hunter. “How about you and me go…”
“Oh no, no ma’am,” Hunter laughed. “You know if she sees us doing it, she’s going to want to join in. Then we’ll all be late. Just go, okay?”
“Bye, Darlene, see you Tuesday,” Swan giggled and skipped to the stairwell door.
“Uh huh,” Darlene said, sliding off of the barstool as the video ended.
“Thanks for coming in,” Hunter smiled as Darlene let herself out of the back door. “Looking forward to working with you.”
**Author’s Notes: I write these stories for my pleasure, I post them here for your enjoyment. I thank you sincerely for reading my stories. I especially thank those that leave comments, good and bad. I also thank those that take the time to rate my words, and those that ‘Favorite’ my works.
Darlene Arneaux, now Darlene Richards is a character from ‘Handful’ in the NonConsent/Reluctance category.
Billy Richards, Darlene’s husband and Laci’s father is mentioned in ’18 With The Wind Chill’ in the Incest/Taboo category. He is the father of Tiffany Gernaud’s baby, Laci Gernaud.
Club Landslide is featured in ‘Let Myself Believe’ in the Loving Wives category.
Leslie Bogdanovich, the manager of Myra’s Boutique is a character introduced in ‘Multiple Units #109’ in the Loving Wives category.
Have a swell day. And some of you, have a swollen day.