Chapter 1 of 3 – Draw

This one's a rough one. Proceed at your own risk.

“Large mocha please, and if I could have a couple of those mouth-watering éclairs... Thank you so much.”

It was a deliciously sexy voice, a silky smooth contralto that was enough to make you question your sexuality all on its own.

Alison turned, fully expecting to see a body appropriate to someone with such an evident cake addiction, but she was, on the one hand, disappointed to find the voice’s owner possessed a slender curving figure which, on the other hand, was as much of delight to her eyes as her voice had been to her ears. Long, wavy strawberry blonde hair, brilliant green eyes and the merest hint of a spray of freckles across her button nose. A full, sensual mouth showed hints of brilliant white teeth beneath. Alison squeezed her thighs in response to the moist softness spreading in her loins and sipped at her calorie free black coffee, turning her attention back out the window beside her.

“Do you mind if I join you?”

Alison crossed her legs in an effort to control the renewed surge of dampness and looked around the cafe with an expression of mild confusion. Inwardly, she berated herself. ‘Get a hold of yourself. You’re as heterosexual as they come, and happily married – well married at least – to your high-school sweetheart.’

“I know,” the voice said with a come-fuck-me chuckle, “the place is almost empty and I could sit pretty much anywhere, but I kind of feel like company. Tell me to go screw myself if you want.”

‘Come screw me, more like,’ Alison thought. Those eyes were so astonishingly emerald green, seeming to beckon to her. And she had a delicious aroma of spiced vanilla. Alison force her pinched features into a tight smile and waved at the chair opposite in invitation.

The newcomer sat, breathing out that familiar sigh of relief as she slid her feet out of her heels and reached down to rub life into at least one of her feet.

“You have to wonder why we bother, don’t you? I mean I know they look so good, but god do they hurt any time you have to walk much further than the curb outside your front door, am I right?”

Alison had never really given it much thought, but now that she did, her feet did ache. The gorgeous bitch took a sip of her coffee and rolled her eyes with evident relish. The foam moustache this left her with made her look just that much more fucking cute. Alison wasn’t sure if she hated her more or if she found her more enchanting. A brief moment’s reflection brought her to the annoying realisation that both were true.

“How do you do that?” Alison asked as her newly acquired companion bit into an éclair. “A thousand calories of coffee, five hundred calories in each of those.”

“I know what you mean. You have to believe, it takes a five-mile run to burn off the calories in just one of these bad boys, but they are just sooo addictive. Listen, you’re absolutely right, I don’t need two of them. You should have the other, I really didn’t ought to. No, I mean it. You’d be doing me a favour. Go on, live a little.”

They were the sort of thing she’d spent all of her adult life avoiding. She could hear her mother’s admonishing tones, ‘A moment on the lips, lifetime on the hips,’ but the stranger’s voice was so enticing. Years of self-control crumbled before her arguments. Just one wouldn’t do any harm would it? She picked up the second éclair and bit into it.

God, it was so fucking good! It wasn’t just the sweet chocolate or the silky-smooth cream sliding down her throat, there was a phallic element to the experience. Harvey still had her suck him off occasionally even this long into their marriage. He wasn’t quite as big around as the éclair, but lengthwise he wasn’t far off. Just that she always felt like she wanted to bite down on him these days, and the experience of her teeth slice into the delicate pastry and feeling her mouth fill with creamy goodness was just so...

Her companion chuckled at her, giving her a knowing smile before sliding the remains of her own éclair in and out of her mouth. No suggestion about it, it was completely deliberate, as was the savage delight with which she bit into it. Cream leaked everywhere and both of them giggled as she chased after the escaping dribbles of her pastry. She chewed for a few seconds then swallowed down her mouthful.

“Wouldn’t it be wonderful if you could? I mean you could pretty much justify it, couldn’t you? That thing was never supposed to go in there, so who could blame you if you chose to retaliate?”

Alison found herself liking this newcomer. I mean she hated her guts for being so drop dead gorgeous, especially after showing so little concern over her calorie intake, but to rebel against the constant battle against the bulge felt so wonderful. And those éclairs were so moreish. Not this time, but maybe next time she stopped by for a coffee.

“I have to ask how you do that?” the stranger waved her large mug at Alison’s black coffee. “I mean, I get that it’s essential caffeine intake – unless you’re one of those total weirdos who drinks decaf. I mean what the fuck is the point of that?”

The f-bomb sounded so delightfully dirty in her immaculate mouth. It gave Alison an unexpected spasm, which she barely controlled. She did go the decaf route more often than not, but she found herself nodding in agreement.

“You know what they do with the caffeine they take out of the coffee?”

Alison shook her head.

“They put it in the Tylenol you take to deal with the headache you got because you didn’t have enough caffeine. Anyway, what the fuck is with drinking it black like that? As I say, yeah, you get the hit, but it tastes so... unsatisfying. Now this,” she raised her sixteen ounces of coffee and chocolate, “this hits all the right spots, and who cares if you need to pound the streets for a couple of hours to burn it off? Sooo worth it.

“I’ll tell you another secret. Sometimes I don’t bother with the run afterwards.”

“And you get away with it?”

“What do you think?” She straightened, her twin breasts swelling out her blouse like a double figurehead, her sleek curves the envy of any tea clipper that ever graced the seas.

“You must have made a deal with the devil.” Alison smiled to show she meant no harm in her comment.

“Just mind over matter, girlfriend, just mind over matter. You don’t mind if I call you girlfriend?”

“No, I kind of like it.”

“Well, thanks for letting me sit with you. This was so much better than sitting all alone like some Betty no mates, don’t you think?”

“Well, yeah. I mean I usually use this time to catch up on what my friends have been posting on social media, you know?”

“Well, if ever I see you sitting here by your lonesome, don’t be surprised if I come on over with a couple of cream cakes for us to sink our teeth into.”

“I’d like that. It’s been nice meeting you, er...”

“Carolina, like the States, only most people call me Carrie.”

“Like in that scary movie?”

“Yeah, only my superpower doesn’t involve so much blood... usually.”

Alison laughed good naturedly. “It’d be good to see you around any time, Carrie. My name’s Alison, Ali to my friends.”

“Yeah,” Carrie said, but with no inflection. It sounded odd, like she didn’t care, or maybe she already knew?

“Do I know you?” Alison ventured. “I mean, there’s something familiar about you I think.” There wasn’t, but Alison was really good at forgetting the faces of people she didn’t care about.

“Nah. I guess I just have one of those faces.” Yeah right, the sort that stood out like a movie star.

“Well, don’t be a stranger.”

“Place this small, I’m not sure it’s possible. Anyway, bye Ali, I’ve got some calories to burn off.”

Not as many as Alison might have suspected. The large mocha Carrie took back to the bar still had more than half its contents, and she’d only eaten one of the éclairs.

-~oOo~

“So, you must be Harvey.”

It was the sort of voice that would give the pope and erection, eighty-seven years old or not. Harvey turned around, ready to be disappointed. It wouldn’t have been the first time a sexy voice had promised a ten and delivered a two. This time he felt his smile widening as he acknowledged being in the presence of a genuine twelve.

Harvey’s scale went logarithmic after ten and often involved decimals. An eleven was closer to a one hundred and a twelve a thousand. His maths wasn’t so good though, so it was just as well nobody had to understand his method but him. He had it in mind that no woman could top a twelve, and this was the first time he’d awarded the top score to anyone.

“Now who’ve you been talking to little darling?”

Carrie’s eyes glanced up at the sign that ran the length of the showroom. It read ‘Harvey’s new and used cars. You’ll never get a better deal.’ It gave her a chance to settle her grin into a teasing, suggestive smile of mild amusement before she looked back at Harvey. He’d changed since high school. Even in his freshman year he showed quarterback strength and size, and of course he had a full length of wavy blond hair that sent the girls wild. Now his muscles had turned doughy, and a large proportion of his bulk had gravitated towards his equator. As for the hair, the tooth fairies lesser know cousin, the hair pixie, had been busy at work and taken his hairline right over the top and down the back of his head. Worse than that, he was one of those vain individuals who refused to give into the inevitable and had done his level best to cover the absence with a comb over. Every now and again, the wind would take it out and Harvey would be ready with his comb to put it back in place again.

It might have been repellent, but more than anything it was amusing. Almost retribution enough that Harvey had be reduced to this sad carbon copy of his old man and Alison was stuck living with someone who’d gone so much to seed. Special dose of irony in that Harvey seemed to insist on her keeping her lithe body from previous decades while not seeming able to offer her the same courtesy.

“Oh, right.” Harvey cottoned on to where this new girl’s eyes had been looking. “Well, if you’ve come looking for a deal, you’ve come to the right place. What’re you looking for? A nice little compact? I have a real sweet VW Rabbit over here I think you might be interested in.”

“Actually, I was hoping for something with a little more grunt. I noticed the sixty-five Corvette you have over there.”

“Ah, well, see, that’s my own car and she’s not for sale.”

“Everything’s for sale if the price is right.”

“Yeah, well I don’t mean no disrespect, but the right price for the Corvette’s likely to be quite a lot more than you have in the bank.”

“Oh, I wasn’t thinking about money, at least not much of it. I was wondering if there was something else I might be able to offer you that might be of interest.” Carrie sauntered forward, her short skirt leaving very little to the imagination – no imagination whatsoever when the wind lifted it – and her blouse possessing a deep enough cleavage to show off a significant amount of milk white breast. Rosy, red lips shone glossy and plump in the sunlight. It was a body that said fuck me in large capital letters, and Harvey definitely had a squirm on trying to rearrange his bulge.

Somehow he held out though. He held up his left hand and wiggled the gold band on his fourth finger.

“Sorry darling, I’m already spoken for.”

Carrie was impressed. Either he’d turned into one of the good guys since leaving school, or Alison had him on a tighter leash than she’d anticipated. The ongoing efforts to maintain her figure spoke of the latter, which was unfortunate. For Alison in any case.

“Oh come on Harvey. It only counts as an affair if you stick your dick in my pussy. I got at least two different orifices I know you’d like to play with. I have a blow job for you that’ll leave you wondering what you’ve been doing with your little soldier all these years. You can tell me afterwards what it’s worth to you as a down payment.”

Harvey had never been one to let a bargain slip by, even – or maybe especially – if it meant taking advantage of a pretty girl. After all, she was right. A bit of fellatio never counted as being unfaithful, did it?

He followed her round to the rear of the lot, to an area which was overgrown and scattered with bits of rusting cars. Not the most romantic of venues, but it did have the benefit of being out of public sight.

She dropped to her knees and undid his belt, dropping his trousers and boxers to reveal the source of his discomfort. She played with him, kissing the tip of his rock-hard penis, cupping his balls in her delicate fingers, licking him in the most sensuous way until he was straining for relief. Then she took him whole inside her mouth. It shouldn’t have been possible given how small and delicate she was, but she managed it, then she massaged him with her mouth, playing with him by running her teeth down the length of his shaft. He desperately needed to climax, but somehow he came to the limit of letting go time after time, but was never able to take that last step. He grabbed her hair and rammed her into his groin. Her playful tongue found its way around his ball sack, teasing him, dragging it out until he finally found release. It felt like he was letting go of a gallons of the stuff. The climax went on for minutes and left him rubber legged and collapsed against the back wall of his showroom with her head laying in his lap.

She finished off licking him clean then sat up and offered him an inquiring smirk.

“That was incredible,” he managed to breathe out at last.

“Worth a grand?” she asked cheekily.

“Worth two,” he gasped before he could stop himself.

“Great, shall we go inside and start the paperwork?”

“What?”

“On the Corvette. I mean, I know you said you didn’t want to sell it, but I said...”

“A hundred grand.”

It was way more than the car was worth. Carrie had done her research and seen several of equivalent quality in the sixty to seventy thousand range, but this wasn’t about any old car. This was about Harvey’s car.

“Okay, so that’s the sale price. We start an instalment plan and mark down two thousand dollars for services rendered, then from here on in, you decide when you want to see me again, and what you want to do to me and afterwards you’re going to tell me how much you thought it was worth, and we’ll mark that down too.”

“Yeah, well don’t get your hopes too high sweetheart. Like I said, I’m happily married. I can get service like that any time I want.”

“So no issue with setting up the paperwork, or would you rather pay me in cash?”

“You never said anything about charging me, lady.”

“No, I suppose I didn’t, but you’re going to want more of me.” She moved in close to Harvey’s ear, tracing delicate patterns on his cheek with an immaculate nail. “Next time you stick your pecker in your little lady’s mouth,” she whispered, “you’re gonna think about me and it won’t be anywhere near as good. You’re gonna want more of me in all sorts of ways, and it’s gonna grow inside you like an itch you can’t reach. But before I reach in and scratch it for you...” she reached into his boxers and tickled his flaccid member with her nails. “Before that happens, you’re going to have to settle up for today.” Her lips barely brushed against his ear on the last words.

She stood gracefully to her feet. He wanted to grab for her, but his bones were like jelly. God, he had never known anything like that. He already knew he was going to want more... Need more.

“How will I find you?” he called after her.

She paused and looked back over her shoulder. “Oh, I’ll be around sugar. You’ll find me soon enough.”

-~oOo~

Jack Sanders wasn’t known for being happy. He had a decent job with a decent income but took no pleasure from either. Something had happened in his childhood that had knocked all the happiness out of him and now all he was left with was the satisfaction of doing the same to other people, especially those who had contributed to his childhood misery. Fortunately for him, his job afforded him a good number of opportunities to do just that.

Carrie waited her turn. There were about half a dozen managers in the bank interviewing hopefuls on a turn-by-turn basis. When Carrie’s turn came, she waved on the next person and the next until Jack was free. Then she climbed to her feet, smoothed down the front of her short skirt and sauntered over to his office.

“Hi Jack,” she said, leaning in through his door.

He peered back myopically for a moment. “Do I know you?” He was pretty sure he didn’t, but it seemed polite to ask.

“Well, we did go to the same school for a while, but I left quite early on, so it wouldn’t surprise me if you didn’t remember.”

“I’d definitely remember someone like you, so I’m sure you’re mistaken.”

“Alright, I remember everyone used to call you Primo Jack.”

He winced visibly, and with good reason.

“Yeah, it seemed like a cool nickname until prom night. Who gave it to you? Was it Betty Barnes? She was always a little eager to give the boys what they wanted.”

“Please be a little more respectful when you talk about my wife.” He stood up from his desk and closed the door. His visitor didn’t look like she was about to leave, so he invited her to take a seat. At least with the door closed, there would be less chance of past secrets escaping into the public domain.

“You married Betty, after she did that to you?”

“Yes, well it wasn’t really her who did ‘that to me’,” he had one of those voices that could speak parentheses. “She actually felt pretty rotten about it afterwards and, well, none of the other girls would give me time of day.”

“No, I imagine what you did to your date would have been quite a turn off.”

“Except she wasn’t a girl.”

“Yeah, but was that really the worst thing about that evening? That you were caught dating a boy in a dress? Not that you jizzed all over her face and hair and clothes?”

“She wasn’t a girl. And the worst thing was being laughed at. I didn’t hang around to find out what they were laughing about.”

“No. You just left her to their mercy.”

“He deserved it,” emphasis on the he. “Fucking faggot.”

“Did it ever occur to you that maybe she,” emphasis on the she, “was as much a victim as you? Perhaps more so?”

“Whatever do you mean?”

“Which do you think they found the greatest source of amusement? That you should finally discover your nickname was about your problem with premature ejaculation? Or that they could out some sad, confused kid as trans and cover them in seminal fluid?”

“Well, both I guess. But I suppose I never considered it from his perspective.”

“Don’t you recall the hysterical screaming? Didn’t that give you some clue?”

“I... was too caught up in my own misery. I guess I wasn’t really listening. We all tend to be a little self-absorbed at that age.”

“Time to settle accounts.”

“What do you mean?”

“You left her screaming while the whole freshman year stood around laughing, lifted her skirts, pulled down her knickers, heaping humiliation upon humiliation on her. When the teachers finally intervened, they had to call for the nurse to sedated her.”

“What could I have done?”

“How about stayed with her? You know how much worse that experience was because she had to face it on her own?

“Instead you take it out on people who were just being, to use your term, self-absorbed.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Carrie arched an eyebrow. Here was someone she’d have loved to play at poker. Actually, that wasn’t such a bad idea.

“What’s the betting you do?”

“I don’t bet.” No, maybe as well.

“What do you think would happen if I gave your boss a list of everyone in our freshman year and suggested he check it against people who applied to you for a loan, or the list of foreclosures you approved?”

There was her full house against his two pair. A brief look of panic, then defeat.

“What do you want?”

“A checking account without having to go through all those annoying proofs of identity with a balance of say, twenty thousand dollars.”

“That’s a lot of money.”

“Yeah, but I’d guess you made more on all the dealings you’ve had with our former classmates.”

“All of it legal.”

“Though maybe not ethical. I mean, you’re right, you won’t go to jail over it, but I suspect the branch manager won’t be too happy to find out how you made all that money for the bank at the cost of all that goodwill.”

“How do you know all this?”

She pulled a stack of microfiche printouts from her handbag and dropped them on the desk.

“Not proof in itself, but disturbingly coincidental that eighty five percent of our former classmates have lost out to this bank. I don’t have access to any records, but what are the chances that someone who does might share my curiosity and dig a little deeper.”

“And if I set up this account for you, what happens to those?” He nodded at the cuttings.

“That’s up to you. I wouldn’t have any more use for them, so I guess I’d leave them here for you to do with as you like.

“Mind you, since, as you say, you did nothing illegal, you’re not going to see any harm in showing them to your boss.” She smiled sweetly.

The smile he returned was more of a grimace. He turned to his computer.

“What name?”

“Carrie White.”

-~oOo~

It had been a week. Alison was sitting at her usual table in the café window. Her attention was focused on her phone screen, which left her subconscious mind to sip at her large cappuccino. Not a mocha, but just as calorie rich. She had a half-eaten éclair on the plate by her elbow and the crumbs from one more. She was already looking rounder about the face and shoulders with signs that her bra was a little too tight for her. Carrie smiled, wondering what her hips and bum looked like now. She was about to move on when Alison looked up, smiled and waved her in.

It gave an excuse for a mocha and a couple of éclairs, one of which she would add to the unsuspecting woman’s calorie intake. I mean they were just so addictive!

She settled opposite Alison and slid one of the plates across to her.

“Oh, you shouldn’t have,” Alison protested. “I’ve already had two.”

“Then one more’s hardly going to make any difference. Besides, a little bit of exercise and you’re all good, if you can even be bothered. I mean you look fabulous.”

“Do you think so? I thought I’d put on a few pounds.”

“Are you kidding? You look just like when I first met you last week.”

“Really. Only my clothes feel a little tight.”

“Cheap Chinese rubbish, shrinks in even a cool wash, and before you say anything, even your expensive clothes are made on a budget in China.”

“Is that right? I mean that’s a scandal!”

“Tell me about it. Anyway, what were you doing?”

“It’s like I was telling you; I usually use this time to catch up on what my friends are doing on Facebook and stuff.”

“Anything interesting? I mean, I gave up on Facebook because nothing anyone ever posts on it is worth reading, and I end up wasting so much time reading other people’s banal crap.”

“Ah, but you have to learn to read between the lines. Like Betty Sanders is pregnant again. That’ll be her seventh.”

“Really? How do you know?”

Alison pulled up Betty’s Facebook page and the posts for unusual cravings. Carrie bit the inside of her cheek. She’d suggested Jack go home and show her how much he loved her. After all, once the bank started investigating his dealings, he’d need a bit of good will from her.

“Scandalous,” Carrie said. “But why read about someone else’s scandals when you can make your own?”

“What do you mean?”

“I couldn’t help but notice you weren’t eating your éclair right. You ready to turn a few heads?”

“I don’t know, I...”

“Just follow what I do.” Carrie picked up her cake and held it delicately between her teeth, waiting until Alison did the same, then she deep throated it, allowing her soft, plump lips to caress it as she slid the entire length into and out of her mouth. After a moment, Alison followed suit, matching Carrie’s quiet moans.

Cream leaked out of the pastry as she brought her lips in tighter. She paused to lick it up before returning to the gentle, rhythmic motion. Alison was following along, her eyes closed in private ecstasy.

“Now for the finally,” Carrie said once enough heads were turned their way. Alison opened her eyes to watch as Carrie slid almost the entire cream cake into her mouth and bit down hard.

Alison followed suit, adding her own moans of pleasure as she did so.

Their audience gasped, the men wincing more than the women. Carrie looked around smiling with satisfaction at the stunned looks surrounding them.

“Now that’s how to eat an éclair,” she said conspiratorially. Then in a more normal voice, “And I should be going. You should spend more time living your own life rather than looking for titbits to enjoy from someone else’s.” She leaned across to hug her friend briefly before walking out of the coffee shop. Once again, her mocha was less than half drunk. Alison’s eyes followed her out of the café, ignoring the looks she was getting. Her cappuccino was empty so she picked up the mocha and sipped at it thoughtfully.

-~oOo~

“Hey Harvey.” Carrie lay across the hood of the red Corvette. “How’s the itch?”

It was pretty bad, Harvey couldn’t deny, except he wasn’t going to let on.

“Slow day,” Carrie continued looking around at the empty showroom.

It was, but then slow days could turn busy really quickly, and if he was right about what she had in mind, he couldn’t risk it. He went over to his desk and sat down.

She sauntered over. She had one of the sexiest walks of anyone he knew. Alison had walked like that once, but not lately. Not for a lot of years. She still looked good after all these years. At least she had, only lately...

“Oh,” she breathed in his ear, “there it is. I wondered where I’d left it.”

The it in question was painfully hard and straining against his fly. She slid down between his chair and desk, disappearing from view, at least to anyone who might come into the showroom.

“Just to be clear, I haven’t asked you to do anything, so you don’t get to charge for this one.”

“Oh, okay. So just to be clear, you don’t want me to scratch this itch.”

She unzipped him and reached in to wrap her cool slender fingers around the part of his anatomy that had been straining for release for some days now. He’d begged Alison to help him out, and she’d tried. She’d sucked on him until she’d grown weary, especially of the way he grabbed her hair and thrust himself into her. She’d encouraged him to try more conventional sex, and when that hadn’t worked, she’d even allowed him access to her back passage. None of it had worked.

“You know I’m the only one who can help you here, don’t you Harvey? But if you don’t want me to...”

She let go of him and somehow just a few more ounces of blood filled him, causing him just that much more discomfort.

“All right, damn it! Suck me off.”

“And you’ll amend the agreement?”

“Yeah, two thousand more.” It might just about be worth it. If she could do the same as last time and continue it a total of fifty times, it might just be worth giving over the damned car.

“Well, why don’t we wait till after, and you can tell me how much you thought it was worth.”

The whole straining mass disappeared inside her mouth and what had been causing him no end of frustration for days suddenly melted into the most ecstatic pleasure.

“Oh God!” he shuddered.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Mrs Hemsworth! My apologies. Will you ju-hu-hu-ust give me a few minutes to sooooort a thing or two OW!”

“This might take more than a few minutes,” Corrie said quietly.

“I could come back later if you’re too busy.” Mrs Hemsworth looked inclined to take her business elsewhere if she didn’t have his immediate attention.

“Nnnnnot at all, Mrs Heh-huh-emsworth. I just need to-o-o-o... This sprea-headsheet. If I don’t... Hawww. If I leave it nOW I’ll never get it so-hor-horted.”

“Are you quite alright Mr Lewis?”

“Nnnnnnnnever better Mrs Hemsworth. Was therererere something in paaaarticular you were interested in?”

“Well, of course, but I wish you’d stop making those dreadful noises. I’m finding them quite off-putting.”

“I’m sooooorrrr... I’ m sohohorry. Please, just let me finish uuuUP here and I’ll be with you. Was it the Ca-a-a-adillac you were interested in?”

“No, of course not. Why would I want a gas guzzler like that?”

Guzzle. Guzzle. Get on and fucking guzzle you bitch. He reached a hand under the desk, grabbed a handful of hair and pulled her onto him. God, what she was doing down there could hardly be legal...

“I’m sooorry, what?”

“I said, haven’t you got something smaller and more economical, just for running around town?”

“Yes, of cou-hourse. I have a lovely little Rabbit,” rabbit, rabbit, rabbit. Hop bunny hop. God get this over with! “I’m sorry, Mrs Hemsworth, I just need tooooo... oh God!” His eyes crossed and he let out a juddering sigh as he finally released a week’s worth of tension.

“Well, I’m sure I never found office work quite so engaging. I’m not at all sure I want to stand around here and listen to anymore.”

“No, it’s alright, Mrs H. I have this sorted now. Why don’t I just grab the keys, and I can show...”

“I don’t think so Mr Lewis. You obviously have more important things on your mind.”

Carrie was done. He was deflating into blessed relief, and she was quietly tucking him away and zipping him up. Harvey climbed to his feet and tried to run after his only customer of the day, only his legs were so much jelly.

“Mrs Hemsworth, please wait. I’m sure I can do you a better deal than you’ll find anywhere else hereabouts.”

“Not with that Rabbit you won’t.” Carrie had emerged from under the desk and was looking at Harvey’s computer screen. “Wow! Two hundred trillion dollars! I never would have thought I was that good!”

“What! Shit, no! I must have leant on the keyboard. Fuck woman, you just lost me a sale.”

“More like I was preserving your reputation, Harvey. That Rabbit’s a lemon and you know it. If you offered it me for five bucks you’d still be ripping me off. You should put it on the next auction and take what you can get for it.

“And what the hell’s that? You’re telling me that wasn’t better than last time?”

“I could have done without dealing with all that and a customer as well.”

“Serves you right for mixing business with pleasure, or would you rather I stopped and left you trying to sell a car to a nice old lady with a tent pole down your trousers?”

Harvey ground his teeth but kept quiet.

“Next time you should shut up shop and book us into a nice hotel.”

“What makes you think there’ll be a next time?”

“Well, mainly because there was a this time. Maybe you’d like to wait a couple of weeks this time round? Up to you, but we can wait till then before you put an amount in here.” She pointed at the spreadsheet where the most recent miss-type had been removed. “You never know, I may be inclined to hold out for a larger amount before sorting you out.”

Harvey ground his teeth but typed in a number.

“Four thousand dollars. That’s better. You’ll probably find the itch comes on a bit quicker this time, so why don’t I give you a number where you can contact me?” She typed a string of digits into an empty cell in the spreadsheet. “I’ll see you soon Harvey.”

-~oOo~

Less than a week passed. The front page of the local paper showed the nearest thing to a scandal this little Podunk town had seen.

Yet, Carrie reminded herself with a smile. The nearest thing yet.

The smile was for the front-page photograph of a very unhappy looking Jack Sanders trying to avoid the cameras. The rather unoriginal headline read, ‘Banker gets his comeuppance,’ with the article starting off with a description of how the local bank had become aware of one of its middle managers acting in a maliciously unprofessional manner towards his former school acquaintances, how he had been sacked and how those who had lost out to him would be contacted with a goodwill offering. The reporter – one of those affected when his house had been repossessed – expressed doubts that the compensation would come close to redressing the balance, but he was glad to see an unpleasant man on the receiving end for once.

It would be tough on Jack and Betty, especially with a seventh on the way, but Jack would have a fair amount of cash squirreled away from his shady dealings – enough to bide them over until he managed to find himself another job. It was unlikely he’d work in banking again, but there were businesses out there who valued his sort of ruthlessness. He probably wouldn’t have much in the way of savings by the time he was earning again, but he didn’t really deserve to keep what he had.

Her phone played You ain’t nothing but a hound dog. She dug it out of her bag and lifted it to her ear.

“Hello Harvey. How’s the itch?”

“You’re a fucking bitch. I don’t know how you’re doing this, but...”

“Now, now, Harvey. Is that any way to speak to the only girl who can ease your discomfort.”

“Get your ass over here right now.”

“I don’t think I will. A girl likes to be appreciated you know?”

“What the fuck do you want?” Said through clenched teeth.

“Oh Harvey, I thought it was you who wanted the fuck.”

“Yeah, so what do you want?”

“Well, let’s see. We started off in the junkyard out back of your business, then we did it from under your desk. Let’s see if we can keep improving things, shall we? Why don’t we see if there’s a hotel room we could use this time. Preferably one without roaches.”

“There’s a place round the corner from my business. How soon can you be there?”

“If we’re thinking of the same place, it’s a bit of a flea pit, isn’t it?”

“They rent rooms by the hour.”

“Well okay, but what we get up to and how much you pay for it will depend largely on the place we do it from now on.”

“When.”

“About an hour.”

“Fuck that. You can be anywhere you like in this shitty town in ten minutes.”

“Not if you don’t have a car, and you haven’t gotten round to selling me yours yet.”

“You can take a cab.”

“I could. Shall we add that to the bill?”

“Sure, why the fuck not.”

“I’ll see you in ten.”

She dropped the phone back in her back and sipped at her coffee. She didn’t need the cab since she’d anticipated his call and was sitting across the road from his little emporium. It had pleased her when a small car transporter with an automobile auction house logo on the side had pulled up earlier and winched the Rabbit onto its back, but it wasn’t reason enough to give the man a break. She decided to wait the full ten minutes then, depending on whether he headed for the hotel or stayed in his office, she’d go to the place where he wasn’t and wait for him to call.

Twenty minutes later, hound dog rang out again.

“Harvey?”

“Where the fuck are you?”

“I’m at your showroom. Where are you?”

“At the fucking hotel, bitch. Get the fuck over here.”

“Well, you could have said. And after I tipped that nice cabbie twenty dollars to get her super quick.”

“Fucking... fuck!”

“Keep your hair on.” That was a deliberate dig. “I’ve something special in mind for today.”

She made her way across to the seedy hotel and followed a very agitated Harvey up to a moderately unpleasant hotel room.

“The guy said this was their best room. He charged me an extra fifty bucks for it.”

Carrie looked around her, wrinkling her nose at the smell of mildew and wiping what must have been a month’s accumulation of dust off the windowsill with her finger.

“Do you think what he charged you included a charge for discretion? Because, you know, pretty ballsy doing this so local. Do you reckon he knows you and that you’re married?”

“Fuck! I’m not thinking straight. You gotta fix this.”

She eyed the bed. She’d probably have to burn her clothes after this, but what the hell.

She lifted her skirt to reveal stockings and a garter belt as well as a thong. Butt floss she’d heard it called. She wiggled it over her hips and let it drop to her ankles before stepping out of it and crawling onto the bed, pointing her naked butt at him.

“What are you doing?”

“I thought you might like to graduate from blow jobs, but if all you want is for me to suck you off...”

She made to crawl off the bed.

“No. Fuck. I mean how much is this going to cost me?”

“It’s always been up to you before; except I’m going to have to add a few expenses this time. I mean I did specify a room without cockroaches, didn’t I?”

“What where?”

‘Standing behind me eyeing my ass for one,’ Carrie thought. “Does it matter? I thought this place charged by the hour. Do you want some of this or don’t you?”

He did. It took some fumbling to drop his pants then a fair amount of pushing to get his swollen self into her.

“That might have been easier if you’d used this,” she said holding up a tube of lube.

“Shut up you fucking cunt and let me in.”

“Access to cunt denied,” she said, “unless you plan to be unfaithful, but as for where you are now...”

She relaxed her muscles all the way and felt him slide in, then she tightened up on him, effectively trapping him.

“Oh fuck a shitting crap-fuck,” he moaned, writhing to move.

She let him, relaxing and squeezing back tight over and over again. She didn’t allow him much freedom. Just enough to hint at giving him control, but never quite enough to let him have it.

She played with him, keeping him on the edge of release for a full three quarters of an hour, then just as he was at the very brink of coming, she tightened her hold on him, immobilising him.

“Fuck me!” he groaned.

“No. That’s what you’re doing to me. How would you rate it so far?”

“Fuck!”

“So what? Are we saying a thousand bucks per fuck?”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!” He squirmed but couldn’t move.

“Getting there. You know I can do this all day?”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

“And another three thousand. That sounds about right.”

She let him go and he rammed himself in one last time, reaching such an utter culmination, he couldn’t help himself.

“Oh fuck!” he yelled letting go of days of pent-up frustration.

“And one more. That’s really generous, thank you. I make that ten grand, plus what, an extra five hundred? Which you can pay me in cash.”

“What the f...?”

“Oh, are we going to eleven grand?”

“No we f... damn well aren’t. What the f... crap to you mean?”

“Well, you did seem to understand a thousand bucks per fuck, and you went on to say fuck ten times.”

“Shit!”

“Then there was the taxi fare, the inconvenience factor for interrupting my afternoon to come here at such short notice, the gross out factor of doing it in a place like this. I mean bugger me – which technically you just did – this place is seriously low rent. Lastly, I don’t think I’m ever going to feel clean in these clothes ever again, so you owe me for new ones.”

“That can hardly amount to much.”

“You’re saying my clothes are cheap and trashy?”

“There’s not much to them, is there?”

“No, but you must have heard the saying, ‘less is more.’ This outfit was deceptively expensive.”

He climbed off her and she rolled over onto her back, feeling semen dripping out of her arse. Her skirt was short enough that most of it dribbled onto the bedclothes.

“Fuck!” Harvey risked the extra grand. “Can you not leak everywhere. Your fucking muscles have to be strong enough to keep that load in.”

She obliged, clenching her butt cheeks until she’d made it into the bathroom.

“Not even a bidet,” she called through. “This place really is the pits.”

Harvey finished sponging the worst of the mess off the bedclothes and figured it probably wasn’t the only semen stain present. Maybe five hundred wasn’t that much after all. He pulled the bills out of his wallet and dropped them on the bed.

“And with the ten large I make that sixteen thousand down on the Corvette, yeah?” She picked up the money and dropped it into her bag before stepping back into her panties.

“Whatever.” There was no way they were going to get anywhere near a hundred thousand, so who the fuck cared?

“Should I come across to your showroom to make sure you enter the amount correctly?”

“No, I’ll do it.”

“And email me confirmation?”

“Sure, whatever.”

She gave him a card with her name and email address printed on it. “So you know where to send it.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. You should fuck off now.”

Typical man. He had what he wanted, so she was surplus to requirements. At least for a few more days.

“You may want to pay the guy on the desk another couple hundred to forget you were here.”

“Fuck me.” This was turning into one fucking expensive lunchtime.

“If you’re into that I could maybe get hold of a strap-on for next time.”

“Just fuck off, will you?”

She smirked and walked out of the room.

-~oOo~

The better-quality shops were at the other end of town near to her hotel. She walked it rather than risk soiling some hapless cabbie’s rear seat, which meant she ended up walking past the coffee shop where she’d met Alison. As chance would have it, she was sitting in the window with a large cappuccino and a couple of cream cakes. She was beginning to look like a baby owl the way she was filling out.

She looked up as Carrie walked past and waved.

Not quite what she’d been planning. She desperately wanted a shower and a change of clothes, but maybe this would work to her advantage. She bought a coffee and the last éclair and headed for the window.

“Ready to shock a few more people?” Carrie asked, picking up her cream cake.

“You are a bad influence on me,” Alison said with an evil grin, raising her own, or at least one of them.

“The absolute worst,” Carrie agreed, and they set about pleasuring their pastries, bringing about the same reaction from those sitting around them.

“You’ve been getting some,” Alison said when they were done. “I can smell him on you. God, I wish I were so lucky, but Harvey can’t seem to finish these days.”

“I’m sorry. What seems to be the problem?”

“He keeps calling me a fat cunt and says I’m letting myself go.”

“He’s one to fucking talk.”

“How do you know my husband?” Alison was suddenly suspicious.

“Well, you said Harvey, right?” Carrie let a little guilt show. “I mean you can only mean the guy who runs that car dealership on the other side of town. I went in there looking for a car, but the only thing he has that I like is the Corvette “

“Oh, fuck me, girl. You’ll be lucky if he lets you breathe on that thing. I think he loves it more than me.”

“Yeah, I got the same impression. That is the same Harvey then? Only I can imagine he was quite the stud once upon a time, but...”

She paused. Alison had started crying, and they were fat tears to match her fattening face. Carrie felt a pang of guilt at what she was doing to this girl, but it didn’t last long. She thought over the last ten years of her own life and felt herself hardening within.

Time for a bit of amateur dramatics.

“What is it, sweetie?” She reached across to rub the young woman’s arm, just as a waitress came over to their table. “Could you leave us be?” Carrie asked. “Can’t you see she’s upset?”

“I’m sorry, Ma’am. It’s the manager though. He’s told me to talk to you right now. He says we’ve had complaints and you’re not, er, you know, do what you do with the, er, cakes. I mean personally I think it’s great what you do, and I’d join you if I was to dare eat one of them éclairs, but he says if you do it again then you’ll be banned. I’m sorry, but that’s what he told me to say.”

“And now you’ve said it, so would you let us be?”

“He said I was to wait for a reply.”

“We won’t do it again,” Alison said, then turning to Carrie. “This is part of my daily routine. I can’t lose it.”

“You’re right.” Then to the waitress, “It won’t happen again, but don’t expect an apology.”

“No, that’s alright. I’ll go tell him, but not that last bit, if you don’t mind.”

She disappeared.

“Ali?”

She’d always hated the shortening of her name at school. She shook her head. “It’s nothing.”

“It doesn’t look like nothing.”

“It’s... I think Harvey’s having an affair.”

Well, there was a result.

“What makes you say so?”

“It’s... I don’t know. It hasn’t been more than once or twice, but it’s like I’m sure I’ve smelt someone on him.”

‘Good job all you can smell of me is him, and you’re not used to what he smells like,’ Carrie thought. What she said was, “I’m sorry, that sounds awful. Why would he even think of being unfaithful?”

“He’s been saying I’m getting fat.”

“That’s not true.” ‘That’s so true.’

“No, he’s right. My clothes are tighter on me. I’ve even had to buy new clothes, if you can believe it.”

“Never.” ‘My God, of course you’re getting fat.’

“No, he’s right though. I’ve been indulging too much and I’m... not what he wants.”

“That’s not the point though. I mean is he what you want?”

“Well, no, but...”

“But nothing. You made commitments to one another when you married – you know, for better or for worse? You’ve stuck by him despite the fucking comb over.”

“Fuck me, isn’t that the worst.”

“Tell me about it. You know, what you should do is wait till he’d asleep, maybe after he’s had a skin full, and shave that fucker off.”

“Oh wow! Do you think I should?”

“More than should. I think you owe it to everyone who lives around here to do just that.”

“But what if he is seeing another woman?”

“Do you want to know for sure?”

“I think so.”

“Better you decide. A lot of women are too weak and prefer to live in denial. Strong women, like I’m sure you are, prefer to know the truth and deal with it.”

“Okay. What should I do then?”

“You know you can get those baby monitors that give you a camera view into your baby’s bedroom?”

“We don’t have kids.”

“Fuck kids. Who’s talking about kids? I’m talking about surveillance. You can get some cameras that will send an alert to your phone any time they detect movement. Set one up in your bedroom. If anyone goes in during the day – which should be never when you’re not there – you’ll get a ping and you’ll be able to see whatever’s going on.”

“What if he’s seeing her somewhere else?”

“Trust me. If he’s fooling around, he’ll bring her back to your place eventually.”

“You think so?”

“I can pretty much guarantee it.”

“You are such an amazing friend, you know that? And to think, I nearly told you to fuck off the first time I met you.”

“If I’d been you, I probably would have. I’m glad you didn’t.”

“Yeah, me too. Where can I get one of these camera thingies?”

-~oOo~

Two days later, Elvis sang out of Carrie’s phone.

“Hi Harvey.”

“What the fuck did you do to me?”

‘I don’t know what you mean.”

“Yes, you do. I can’t stop thinking of you.”

“Aw, that’s sweet.”

“No it fucking isn’t. I can’t have sex with my own wife anymore. Not that I fucking want to after what she did to my hair.”

“What did she do?” As if she didn’t know.

“She… cut off my… Stop fucking laughing, you bitch. It isn’t funny.”

“Oh, but it is. At least a little bit.”

“I don’t fucking care! What the fuck are you going to do about this?”

“Your hair? There’s not much I can do. You could wait for it to grow back, but you’ll come to think it’s better the way it is. I’m sure of that.”

“I don’t give a flying fuck about my hair. Well, not much. What I fucking care about is I can’t screw my own wife now.”

“No-one’s stopping you.”

“Yes they are. You fucking are. I get my cock out to give her one and nothing fucking happens.”

“You can’t get it up? You know that’s what Viagra’s for.”

“Getting it up’s not the problem. Getting it to finish is. With Alison it doesn’t matter where I stick it, all I can think of is you, and since Alison isn’t you, my cock just won’t give me any release.”

“That must be very hard for you.” Who said double entendre had to be subtle.

“Fucking bitch.”

“Yeah, I can do that for you. If you ask nicely. Why don’t you book a room for us at the Ritz?”

“The fucking Ritz! Do you know how much that place costs?”

“I’m guessing less than the two hundred bucks you paid that guy to forget you were there.”

“How much is it going to cost the guy at the Ritz to forget?”

“Why should he care? You’re just renting a room for a day. Once you have it arranged, tell me the room number and I’ll meet you there.”

“Lunchtime then.”

“Sure.”

She had planned to go out. She had clothes to buy, after all, and what she had in mind was very specific and might take some time, but she still had time, so lunchtime more or less wouldn’t make much difference. After all, she could rearrange things a little and book herself in for her mani-pedi this morning. Yes, that sounded like a plan. She felt like a little pampering.

It left her the whole morning to get ready and she made full use of it. Luxurious bubble bath followed by a short excursion down to the hotel’s salon, then time enough to change and stretch out on the bed before her phone dinged.

It was a short text. Just three numbers. Room three one two wasn’t the cheapest one in the hotel, but those were the ones most frequently booked. There was nothing special about it, but it would do.

“On my way,” she texted back and slipped on a bathrobe. It wasn’t unusual for guests to wander the corridors in bathrobes, though perhaps a little more so at lunchtime.

She made her way down the stairs – almost never used when there were lifts available – and along to the correct room. A master key card let her in, and she looked around. The room was smaller than hers, but that was to be expected. It was nicely appointed and clean.

She retrieved one of the larger towels from the bathroom and spread it over the bed covers, after all, this was a classy place, then she slipped off her robe and lay down on her front, propped on her elbows, and waited.

“What the fuck! How did you get in?”

She glanced coquettishly over her shoulder and smiled. Then smiled wider at the sight of his naked scalp. “I have my ways,” she said. No reason to share any of her secrets. “You like?” she asked indicating the short, sheer negligee that was currently doing next to nothing to hide her perfect round ass.

“Fuck yeah.”

“Well, what are you waiting for? Or would you like me to take charge?”

There was a moment’s struggle as he rid himself of his pants and shoes, then he was on top of her. She’d taken the time to lube herself before he arrived, so he slid in easily. Her efforts to clench her buttocks didn’t trap him as she had before but rather squeezed down on him as he thrust into her over and over.

She squeezed and relaxed in a rhythm to match his own, bringing him rapidly to a peak, then she slowed him down, resisting his urgency and keeping him at the verge of release for a few more minutes before finally allowing him to climax.

“Oh God,” he breathed as he rolled off her. “Best yet. Which I guess is going to cost me.”

“Mm, five fucks for that one,” she said.

“How come. That’s only half what you cost me last time.”

“Nicer surroundings,” she said. “I did say where you choose to take me would have an effect on price. Besides, we’re not done yet. Roll onto your front.”

“What? Why?”

“So I can do this,” she said reaching for his arsehole with a finger full of lube.

“What the fuck? That’s fucking cold.”

“Yes, it is,” she breathed in his ear, “and you know what’s coming next. You know it’s so wrong and you hate that it’s coming, but you’re still going to lie there and take it, and you’re going to love it so much more than anything we’ve done before.” She climbed onto his back and settled something long and hard between his cheeks.

“Oh God, no!” he breathed.

“Oh yes.” She thrust into him. “That felt so good, didn’t it? You want more.” She slipped back almost all the way out before plunging back in and pausing. “Go on, beg me for more.”

“More please. I have to have more.”

“There’s my little fuck toy. You feel so ashamed and dirty letting me do this, but you can’t say no to more, and here it comes.”

She began to move backwards and forwards in a rhythmic motion, the weight of her breast resting on his back. It felt so wrong, but so wonderful at the same time. He squirmed and pushed back with his ass to meet her thrusting. God, he needed this, but he hated it at the same time.

“You can feel it, can’t you? That amazing feeling building inside you? It’s like no climax you ever had before and it’s building and building. You have to reach that climax, and you’re so close... But I’m done.”

“What! No! You can’t leave me like this?”

“Whyever not my little man-bitch? I mean can you honestly say you’ve never done the same?”

“No! God, I can’t stand it. Please! You have to finish me off.”

“I don’t know. I mean how much is it worth?”

“I’ll give you ten, no, another twenty thousand on the agreement.”

“I was thinking more like fifty.”

“Fifty! You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

“Well, you could always ask Alison to finish you off.” She handed across a belt with a large, stiff dildo attached to it. Assuming she can, of course, which, given her track record over the last few weeks, I kind of doubt.”

“You can’t leave me like this.”

“Evidence to the contrary. Look, this is me standing up and putting on my bathrobe and walking to the door.”

“Fifty’s too much.”

“I’m sure it is now but call me when it isn’t. Oh, and don’t forget to add the five for when you stuck your dick up my ass as well as what you think that last bit might be worth.”

“You think I’m going to pay you a dime for leaving me like this?”

“Well no. We’ve already discussed what finishing you off is worth, but don’t tell me you didn’t enjoy the journey to where you are now.”

“Oh fuck!”

“I think it’s worth a little more than one fuck, but you can send me a copy of the agreement and I can decide whether or not I’ll pick up the next time you call.”

“Fucking bitch!”

“As I said, that’s what I do. Oh, would you like me to drop the towel in the laundry? I mean a place like this, we want to keep it clean, don’t we?”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“It’s a start, but I think it was worth a bit more than that, especially with the extra piece of equipment.”

“She closed the door on the continued stream of unimaginative profanity and made her way back up to her floor, dropping the soiled towel in a laundry chute on her way.