She heard the toilet flush and smiled. Billy reappeared a moment later, wiping his wet hands on his hairless thighs.
Kaileen motioned to the bed and Billy smiled and approached. She then kissed him as he sank into the firm mattress.
“Billy, I want you to fuck my ass,” Kaileen said, making sure to speak slowly.
“You want what?” Billy asked, unsure.
“You to stick this…” Kaileen said, gripping Billy’s resurging erection. “Up my ass.”
“Your… That hurt!” Billy protested, dark eyes wide with shock.
“Oh God, I sure hope so,” Kaileen muttered and kissed him.
She showed Billy the tube of lubricant. She squeezed a dollop of the clear goo into the palm of her hand and slowly applied it to his throbbing cock.
Billy watched, mesmerized by her actions. Then, with another passionate kiss, Kaileen turned and put her shoulders to her thick comforter. She reached her hands back and pulled her buttocks apart.
Billy saw her blonde thatch, wet and sticky with her excitement. He saw her pussy lips, puffy and slick with her excitement, saw her thighs wet and slick with her passion.
Billy saw her light brown anus, greasy, shiny, winking at him. He saw her small hands straining to pull her beautiful buttocks apart in invitation.
Billy gripped his slimy cock and knelt behind Kaileen. He lined up his cock with her winking anus and pressed forward.
“Oh, son of a…” Kaileen screamed out as the blunt head of Billy’s cock pressed against her resisting anus.
Billy did not hear Kaileen’s scream. He watched the tip of his cock gain entry. He watched her light brown ring of flesh crinkle tightly, watched as the ring of flesh slowly expanded.
“God damn,” Kaileen screamed in painful pleasure.
Her anus flowered open and Billy pushed harder. The foreskin curled back, allowing his cockhead to gain full entry into her anus. Kaileen shuddered, grimacing tightly as Billy’s thick foreskin flowed the blunt head of his cock into her rectum.
“Oh God, oh God,” Kaileen panted as stabs of pain rippled outward from her anus.
Kaileen could feel Billy’s pulse as more than half of his cock was buried inside of her. She could feel the blunt head rasping along her anal canal. She could feel his thick foreskin as he pushed into her.
That familiar, lovely warmth began to bubble up inside of her guts. Kaileen shivered at the delicious feelings radiating throughout her body.
“Mother fucker!” Kaileen screamed out as her first orgasm racked her body.
“Ugh!” Billy grunted in protest as her rectum clamped down, painfully tight around his cock.
“Oh God, yes!” Kaileen shrieked, her hands falling from her buttocks.
She was sure her anus had torn. Kaileen was sure she could feel a trickle of blood oozing from her anus. She was sure her flesh was ripping as Billy forced his length into her.
“Oh Baby, Baby, Baby,” Kaileen panted, trying desperately to catch her breath.
Billy began to pull out and Kaileen’s muscles tried desperately to force him out of her bowels. She could feel the thick foreskin curling upward as his cock slithered along her guts.
When he pushed back in, Kaileen shrieked in orgasm. She shook violently as he pushed firmly into her.
“Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me,” Kaileen chanted, one hand tugging and twisting her nipple, the other hand frantically rubbing her pussy.
Billy gripped Kaileen’s hips in a fierce grip. His thrusts began to pick up speed and force as he fucked Kaileen’s tight ass.
“Ugh!” Billy suddenly grunted.
Kaileen’s throat hurt, but she did shriek when she felt Billy’s hot semen jetting into her bowels. She shook in pleasure while Billy thrashed, pumping more and more of his seed into her.
Billy held himself upright, hands squeezing Kaileen’s hips tightly. He panted, trying to catch his breath.
“Uh, oh, oh God,” Kaileen panted, trying to catch her breath.
Finally, Billy’s fierce grip relaxed. He fell back as Kaileen wiggled forward.
“Oh, oh my God,” Kaileen wheezed, getting to shaky feet.
The ride to Billy’s trailer was silent. Kaileen needed to focus on the road; there were no lights along this stretch of blacktop.
“There,” Billy pointed to a single wide trailer among other trailers.
Kaileen stopped the truck. She turned and smiled at Billy. Then she softly kissed him.
“Good night,” she said. “See you Tuesday.”
“See you Tuesday,” Billy agreed, opening the door of the truck.
Kaileen’s ass throbbed deliciously as she drove home. Home in her condominium again, Kaileen again sat in her hot tub. She stared up at the inky black sky, the few stars twinkling overhead.
On Sunday, Kaileen spent the day nude. With the Internet, she managed to place her orders for the restaurant, schedule the deliveries, and check on the progress of the steak house.
On Monday, Kaileen woke when her cell phone buzzed and chimed.
“Louie, this better be good,” Kaileen cheerfully said.
“Morning, boss,” Louie said. “Don’t know if it’s good or not. “You know how we have that sign out front?
Kaileen had employed Louie to do another sketch. This one was of Kaileen’s well-shaped thigh, single garter strap holding up a lace-cuffed stocking. Along the very top of the sketch, Louie had just a shadow of Kaileen’s buttock. It was difficult to tell; was it a butt cheek? Was it just a shadow? Was it just the sky right above where the billboard ended?
Next to this single leg were the words ‘DAUGHTERS’ Steaks. The word daughters was in all capitalized, outlined lettering, the word steaks was in smaller letters, only the ‘S’ was capitalized. The entire sign was in black and white.
“Uh huh; got them on the snow cone trucks too,” Kaileen agreed.
“Anyway, some guy comes screaming up to me, wanting to know where I got off stealing his idea,” Louie said, sounding worried.
“Oh goody!” Kaileen giggled. “He give you a name?”
“Jason?” Louie asked.
“Oh goody!” Kaileen giggled again.
“He threatened to sue us if we didn’t stop immediately,” Louie said. “Kaileen, what’s going on here?”
Chapter 9—Ankle socks and Mary Janes.
With his first paycheck, plus the generous tips from the waitresses, Billy Wanate bought himself a truck. And now that he had means of transportation, Billy was included in the troop of drivers that ferried McAllister to and from work.
The next Saturday, Kaileen again took Billy home, fed him, then fucked him to exhaustion. She also broke Billy’s heart; it wasn’t love. It was fucking. Pure and simple, it was fucking.
Even with an angry Jason Paul Withers threatening lawsuits, Wanate Construction completed the building just after the Fourth of July holiday. The next week was spent installing the furniture and hiring the staff.
Kaileen had already contacted a distributorship, arranged to have grass-fed beef shipped to Daughters Steaks. The first hires were three chefs and a pastry chef, and two bartenders.
Then Kaileen began interviewing waitresses. She interviewed each hopeful while wearing the uniform of a Daughters waitress.
“Bustier, thong panties, lace ankle socks and Mary Janes,” Kaileen said. “White. Pink. Baby blue. Any other colors? I will send you home.”
While Kaileen worked to get Daughters Steaks up and running, McAllister had been bumped up to Executive chef. Kevin was bumped from dishwashing duty to being a Sous-chef; he loved to kook. Lucien Washington, Kevin’s boyfriend took over duties as bus boy/dishwasher.
Deanna was promoted to manager of The Nasty Pig and truly thrived in the position. She was a firm but fair boss and none of the girls resented her. They knew Deanna had been one of them, a waitress. If she asked one of the waitresses to do something, there was a reason she would ask them to do that task.
Opening day of Daughters, just before opening the doors, Kaileen faced her staff. The oven was pre-heated to twelve hundred degrees. The side dishes were prepped, ready to go into the oven. The steaks were at correct temperature, waiting to be slapped onto a cast iron turntable and shoved into the oven.
The nine girls were dressed in gauzy, lacy bustiers and matching thong panties. Their legs were bare, their feet jammed into lacy ankle socks and black patent leather Mary Janes.
“Are we ready?” Kaileen smiled.
“Ready!” a chorus of voices went up.
“Then let’s do it,” Kaileen said and unlocked the door.
The hours were from four in the afternoon until ten in the evening. Kaileen acted as hostess, greeting each arrival, promptly seating them when a table became available.
The girls smiled, giggled, preened, but kept moving. Looking around, Kaileen wondered if she should have put in more than forty-five tables. Each table had four seats available and there were very few empty seats. Then she remembered, it was Friday; it was pay day for many of these men.
Saturday was even busier. Some of the men complained about the hours; asking if Daughters would open a little earlier than four in the afternoon.
“And what’s this? Closed Sunday and Monday?” one man demanded to know.
“Give your liver time to rest, drunk ass hole,” his waitress muttered.
The seven thousand dollars’ worth of beef was nearly depleted when they locked the door the first Saturday evening. The pastry chef was already making demands for more provisions. The vegetables were also nearly depleted.
Kaileen smiled tiredly as she listened to her staff chattering amongst themselves. She was tired; she’d worked the morning shift at The Nasty Pig; McAllister said she was coming down with a cold. From The Nasty Pig, Kaileen had busted her butt to get to Daughters in time to unlock the door. Playing hostess was a constant motion, no time to rest.
“Miss Kaileen, you okay?” Bethany asked softly.
Kaileen looked at the blonde beauty, a quizzical look on her face. The waitress gave her a soft smiled.
“You’re crying,” Bethany said.
Kaileen reached up and touched her wet face. She looked at her wet fingertips in shock.
“I uh, I, y’all go on home, okay?” Kaileen stammered.
Chapter 10—I’ll see you in court.
Tuesday morning, Kaileen checked the smokehouse behind The Nasty Pig. There were four pork butts smoking, very nearly at the peak of perfection. The beef brisket had just a hint of the rind of fat left.
Stepping out of the smokehouse, Kaileen watched Billy pulling his truck to a stop. As she stood and watched, Billy turned off the engine, then leaned over the console.
McAllister’s small head appeared; Kaileen almost giggled as she could see that McAllister was kneeling on the passenger seat.
The kiss that Billy and McAllister shared was not a friendly ‘thank you for a ride’ kiss. The kiss was a passionate kiss, the kiss a lover gives to a lover.
Kaileen turned and entered the restaurant, feeling guilty for spying on McAllister and Billy’s private moment. She also felt a slight stab of resentment; she’d hoped to seduce McAllister. She’d hoped to introduce McAllister to anal sex; she had a beautiful strap on cock at the ready.
“Oh! You’re here,” McAllister squeaked as she unlocked the door and entered the kitchen.
“Uh huh; hiding out,” Kaileen admitted.
“Did, I, I am scheduled today; I’m supposed to do the morning, right?” McAllister asked as she saw that Kaileen had already done much of the prep work.
“Uh huh, like I said, I’m hiding out,” Kaileen smiled.
“Hiding?” McAllister asked, pulling her stepstool out from underneath the table.
“Dad’s suing me,” Kaileen giggled. “And he’s paying a process server hundred bucks a day, trying get the papers to me.”
“Suing you?” McAllister gasped. “Your own dad?”
At three thirty, Kaileen playfully swatted McAllister on her butt and left the kitchen. Her uniform of bustier, thong panties, lace socks and highly polished shoes were in a small bag wrapped around the back rest of her modified Harley.
Kaileen had walked into the Coronation, Minnesota Harley-Davidson dealership after hearing an advertisement on a local radio station. The dealership was open on Sunday; the dealership was celebrating their seventeen-year anniversary.
The very first motorcycle she’d seen had been the Fat Boy, pearl white gas tank gleaming.
“I’ll take it,” Kaileen told the immense mountain of a man that sat behind the counter.
“Uh huh, ain’t even going ask how much it is?” the man asked, voice a deep rumble.
“Nope; y’all take Visa?” Kaileen asked, plunking the card onto the counter.
She took the necessary lessons, took the written test, passed the driving test, and rumbled out of the dealership. The immense mountain of a man sneered in disgust at the bubble gum pink gas tank and bubble gum pink front and rear fenders that bike now sported.
“Ain’t right. Just ain’t right, make a beautiful ride like that into a bitch bike,” he grumbled.
Rumbling up behind Daughters Steaks, Kaileen fought against the smirk when she spotted the process server waiting. She grabbed the bag off the sissy bar and trotted to the rear door of the restaurant.
“See Humpty-Dumpty’s still trying find me,” Kaileen chuckled as one of the bartenders opened the rear door and let her enter.
“Mm-hmm,” the man smiled. “Keeps asking for a Kailey Withers and I keep telling him no one here by that name.”
Kaileen greeted the other waitresses that congregated in the employee lounge, changing into their uniforms. The clock on the wall showed that she had ten minutes, so Kaileen did not dawdle.
The fifth person to enter the front door when Kaileen unlocked it was the process server. He looked at a picture, looked at Kaileen and shook his head. Then he approached her.
“I uh, I’m looking for Kailey Withers,” he said. “No, no, listen, I know you said other day ain’t nobody here by that name, but there’s got to be. Jason Withers knows his daughter’s working here.”
“Can I see the picture?” Kaileen asked.
It was a picture from when she was in the fourth grade. The nine-year-old girl smiled a wide smile and Kaileen felt the sting of tears looking at the photograph.
“Mr. Breedlove, your client’s an idiot, hear?” Kaileen said, looking again at the innocent, happy girl in the school picture.
“Hmm? How so?” Mike Breedlove asked.
“That picture is eleven years old; good God, I was what? Nine? And my name is Kaileen. Kaileen, not Kailey,” Kaileen smiled sadly. “But kind of nice know they hung onto that picture.”
Lisa Doucet recommended that Kaileen retain Lydia Crowfoot as her attorney. Kaileen liked the woman immediately; she had a good, firm handshake and a no-nonsense attitude.
Lydia’s Native American ancestry was readily apparent. When Kaileen asked if she was related to Lisa in anyway, Lydia shrugged her shoulders.
“Oh, I’m sure our family trees share a few branches,” Lydia said. “I’m pretty sure I’m related to just about everyone in Children County in some way or another.”
Judge Harold Timmerlin was scheduled to hear the case. On a cold day in October, the two parties met in Judge Timmerlin’s courtroom.
“Withers-Morrison V Withers,” he intoned.
Kaileen smiled, looking at her mother and father. Both looked much older than they had looked the last time she’d seen them. In fact, Stephanie and Anne Morrison could have passed for sisters, with all the gray in Stephanie’s hair, all the wrinkles imbedded in her face.
Jason wasn’t a pretty boy any longer. His face looked puffy, pasty. His belly drooped over his belt line.
Jason’s attorney set out the facts, or what his clients perceived to be the facts. They had come up with the idea of a fine restaurant in the Oxmore, North Dakota area. They had even come up with the name, Daughters. The concept, the name, the location; everything was their idea. Therefore, it belonged to them.
Then Lydia had presented the facts, as they were. Jason Paul Withers and Stephanie Anne Morrison had not put a penny into the business. They had not secured the location; they had not obtained the design of the building. They had not hired any of the staff, had not developed the restaurant’s mission statement.
“In short, your Honor, what have Jason Withers and or Stephanie Morrison done, exactly?” Lydia concluded.
Jason testified. With coaching from his attorney, Jason painted himself as a loving, doting, devoted father to his four children. He even shed a tear as he lamented the cold, distant actions of his oldest child, Kailey Stephanie Withers.
Lydia destroyed that testimony by asking him to name his four children and give their ages. Then she presented the birth certificates as proof that Jason was wrong on the names and ages of each of his children.
Mike Breedlove, the process server did admit, under oath that his efforts to serve Kaileen Withers with the summons had been stymied. He stated, it would have been much easier had he been given a more recent photograph of Kaileen Paula Withers. It would have been exponentially much easier had he been given the correct name of the person he was to serve.
Lisa Doucet, Louie Wanate, the employees of Daughters testified. To a person, each testified that they had no idea who Jason Withers or Stephanie Morrison were. All financing, all business dealings had been conducted by Kaileen Paula Withers.
Judge Timmerlin took one day to research any legal precedence. On the third day, he reconvened his court to render his verdict.
“Thomas Edison is often quoted as saying that genius is one percent inspiration, ninety-nine percent perspiration,” the judge stated. “Mr. Venecky, your client’s allegation that they called their daughter, a daughter whose name they can’t even remember and saying that they have an idea for a successful business is hardly worth awarding them one hundred or even fifty percent of any profits Daughters may accrue.”
Mr. Venecky looked ill as the judge spoke. The judge paused for a long moment, studying the faces of Jason, Stephanie, and Kaileen.
“So, taking the formula of one percent inspiration, ninety-nine percent perspiration, I am hereby awarding Jason Paul Withers and Stephanie Anne Morrison one percent of any profits Daughters may earn in the first year of operation,” Judge Timmerlin stated and banged his gavel down.
Mr. Venecky vomited; he knew he would see no payment from Jason or Stephanie.
“But it was my idea!” Jason screamed at Kaileen. “You little fucking bitch, it was my idea!”
Chapter 11—How far is far enough away?
Kaileen got word that Jason and Stephanie had skipped, still owing Baron Venecky several thousands of dollars in legal fees. She quietly sent Baron Venecky payment in full.
“Manzurak, Utah?” Kaileen asked, trying to find the town on a map of the state of Utah.
Somehow Jason had managed to talk Young Insurance into financing the opening of a Young Insurance agency in Garland County, Utah. He did this, even though he had no experience in insurance; Jason Paul Withers was a skilled liar.
Plus, that, he was sure, the Mormons in the area would flock to a business with the name of Young. He wouldn’t discourage the yokels from thinking it was related to Brigham Young.
Jason hired his common-law wife to be his personal assistant and they rented space in a strip mall on Highway 129. To the right of the new Young Insurance location was a tire store. To the left was a frozen yogurt franchise.
Kaileen bought the strip mall directly across Highway 129. The owner was more than happy to sell; there was an H&R Block, a Thai restaurant, a tanning salon, and three empty stores. The Thai restaurant was routinely late with their rent and the tenant made constant demands.
Kaileen had Louie redraw his sketch. He drew the smirking, sexy pig with a too short tee shirt, a pair of bikini briefs and knee socks and saddle oxfords. Kaileen giggled as she imagined the conversation between her mother and father as she put up the sign announcing The Nasty Pig.
“The Nasty Pig barbeque; Jason, wasn’t there a Nasty Pig place in North Dakota?” Stephanie asked upon seeing the sign directly across from the plate glass door of Young Insurance.
“Uh, yeah, uh, oh yeah, where that queer place used to be,” Jason agreed, looking at the sign.
Gold Standard Real Estate agent Jonathon Falgout sold Kaileen Withers a tract of land two miles south of the strip malls. Over the phone, Kaileen Withers had been a tough but fair negotiator. So, he was quite surprised to discover just how young the woman was.
Jonathon Falgout handled commercial real estate. Melissa Kahlick, the other agent in the Gold Standard Real Estate office handled residential. The two agents worked well together but did have a friendly rivalry.
“Uh huh, uh huh, who just made two sales?” Jonathon teased as Melissa came in, shivering from the early November cold.
“Uh huh, and who just sold your client a lot on Pembroke?” Melissa taunted.
While construction began on the Highway 129 property, as well as her log cabin home and attached rustic barn garage on Pembroke, Kaileen began interviewing for The Nasty Pig BBQ restaurant. Garland County, Utah had strict laws governing the display of flesh, so the uniform had been modified to include a short, snug tee shirt that left the girl’s midriff bare. The shirt also emphasized that the wearer had no bra containing her young breasts.
The tee shirt itself was white. Over the left breast was the mascot of The Nasty Pig, along with the name of the place in bright neon pink.
Upon seeing herself in the new tee shirt, Kaileen sent a box of twenty-four tee shirts to the Lilton, North Dakota The Nasty Pig. She told Deanna that the girls now had the option of wearing the tee shirts or not. Within two days, Deanna emailed Kaileen, asking for another box. Customers were buying the tee shirts.
Kaileen’s sous-chef was Frank Upjohn, a retired US Marine. He was meticulous to the point of being OCD, but his kitchen ran smoothly, efficiently.
On Frank’s recommendation, Kaileen also hired two more retired Marines to be bus boy/dishwashers. Johnny Lennox had lost an arm in Iraq and had not been able to find employment. Virgil Dudule walked with a pronounced limp, but the limp did not slow him down as he hustled from table to table.
“Friendly fire,” was all Virgil would say when asked how he got his limp.
Kaileen was surprised at the overwhelming number of women that applied to be waitresses. Johnny smiled and Virgil just shrugged.
“Ms. Withers,” Frank snapped, as business-like as ever.
“Kaileen, damn it, done told y’all, call me Kaileen,” Kaileen interrupted.
“Ma’am, no ma’am,” Frank barked. “But to your question. Look around. There’s not a whole lot of choices for these kids.”
“Not a whole lot of choices for these adults either,” Virgil said.
Two weeks before Daughters Steaks was to open, Kaileen put up two billboards. One two miles north of the building, on Highway 129, one two miles south of the business. The signs had the sketch of a shapely thigh, single garter strap holding up a lace-cuffed stocking. DAUGHTERS in all caps, outline and Steaks in solid black lettering.
And in front of the building, Kaileen put a four by eight plank of plywood with the same sketch and same lettering. She giggled as she imagined her parents’ reaction. There was no way they could fail to see the signs.
Again, there was an onslaught of young women clamoring to serve the steaks, even if the uniform was nothing more than bustier and matching panties. Kaileen even had three girls offer to sleep with her for the chance to gain employment.
Before the first steak was slapped onto the cast iron turntable, Young Insurance closed their door and Jason and Stephanie left Manzurak, Utah. They had not had one sale and Young Insurance let them know they would not continue to pump money into a failed location.
“Oakleaf? Texas?” Kaileen asked when her private investigator contacted her, letting Kaileen know that Jason and Stephanie were again on the move.
Oakleaf County Sewage Treatment hired Jason Paul Withers as temporary head of Inventory Control while Monica Davis was out on maternity leave. Stephanie Morrison managed to obtain employment with Prescott Conglomerates, in Collections.
It was the perfect job for the pair; Monica was scheduled to return long before Oakleaf County Sewage Treatment would discover that Jason Paul Withers knew nothing of what products and inventory to procure, to maintain for a sewage facility. And being a sociopath that cared nothing for her fellow human being, Stephanie was actually quite good at her job. Calling people and demanding payment of outstanding bills, no matter what the person’s current circumstances might be was a task perfectly suited for Stephanie.
And before the padded leather chair in Jason’s office even managed to get a rut created by his widening ass cheeks, before Stephanie managed to get her first bonus check, a billboard appeared. Both Jason and Stephanie stared in disbelief as they saw ‘Daughters Steaks’ and the sketch of a woman’s thigh.
Kaileen rumbled through Oakleaf County on her Fat Boy. There seemed to be a church on every corner and a barbeque restaurant on every other corner.
“A Nasty Pig out here would go belly up in a skinny minute, I tell you that,” she mused as she waited at a red light.
Frank Upjohn had been switched over to managing Daughters Steaks while Johnny Lennox moved over as executive chef and manager of The Nasty Pig. Both businesses flourished; Kaileen was pleased but puzzled.
If there wasn’t enough employment for the people of Garland County, then how did they find enough money to keep a moderately priced barbeque restaurant going, and an expensive steak house going?
Melissa Kahlick had hinted that she’d found a buyer for Kaileen’s log cabin and rustic barn home, if Kaileen was interested in selling. Kaileen had just arranged for the refrigerator, washer and dryer to be installed when she received word that her parents had pulled up stakes and fled. She hurriedly made her preparations to leave Utah.
There was an opulent steak restaurant in Oakleaf, the Stone Grill. The staff was exclusively male, from valet to maître-d to wine steward and waiters. Kaileen entered Brichelle’s Boutique, purchased an evening gown, stay up stockings and five-inch heels. She handed the keys to her truck to a handsome valet, making sure he got a very long look at her legs as he helped her down from her truck. She smiled prettily at the tuxedo clad maître’s and was shown to a small table after a forty-nine-minute wait.
“Are your steaks, the cows, are they grass-fed?” Kaileen asked her server.
“I uh, I, well, the steaks are aged for thirty days,” the man answered. “I am not sure about the grass-fed part, though.
The manager did indicate that their beef was corn-fed. Kaileen fought against the smirk as the man tried to assure her that corn fed cattle was the best in beef.
Aging the beef did provide a tenderness, it did provide a good, hearty flavor. Kaileen thoroughly enjoyed her rib eye, the broiled tomatoes, the sweet potato soufflé, as well as her cup of fresh ground coffee and thick slice of chocolate cake.
“Thank you, ma’am,” her waiter simpered as Kaileen gave him a twenty percent tip.
“Ma’am, that is a nice truck,” the valet smiled as he held the door open for her.
“When do you go on break?” Kaileen asked, lightly resting her hand on his muscled chest.
“I uh, ma’am? I can go on break now,” the young man said, waving his hand at the other valet.
He drove them to the rear of the restaurant. Kaileen had him climb over the console and sit in the passenger seat while she knelt on the floor.
Kaileen unzipped the young man’s trousers; why did men always make more work for the woman? Freeing the young man’s five-inch erection, Kaileen smiled up at her new conquest. She then reached down and hiked up her dress.
“Mm,” the young man moaned as Kaileen’s pink tongue lapped around the head of his throbbing cock.
“Mm,” Kaileen agreed as her fingers found her wet slit.
She sank her mouth over the mushroom shaped head, tongue tasting the sweat and the excitement of the young man. She bobbed her head up and down, taking more and more of his cock into her mouth with each bob.
“I uh, damn!” the young man panted.
Kaileen hurried her rubbing of her clitoris; she could tell her lover wouldn’t last long. She slowed her head bobbing and even gripped the base of his cock tightly.
“Aw shit!” he gave out a strangled scream and Kaileen swallowed the bitter seed as it jetted out.
“Mm!” she groaned as her own climax came a moment later.
After a moment, Kaileen wiggled up. She negotiated over the console and started the truck.
“Wow,” the young man wheezed.
“Mm hmm,” Kaileen smiled as she pulled in front of the restaurant.
“I uh, oh! Thank you, ma’am,” the young man said brightly as Kaileen handed him a twenty-dollar bill.
Pulling up to Oxbow Plaza Apartments, Kaileen made sure her truck was securely locked. She gave a quick visual inspection of her Harley before entering Apartment 106.
There seemed to be a glut of ostentatious homes in and around Oakleaf County. There also seemed to be a shortage of available residential land. Thankfully, there was quite a bit of commercial property available.
“And Oakleaf can certainly afford to support another steak place,” Kaileen mused aloud.
Upon entering her apartment, she wrinkled her nose; the furniture had come from Deubler Furniture & Appliances and had that odd smell that new furniture seemed to carry, that odd chemical odor. The cushions needed to be sat upon, broken in.
The bedroom wasn’t much better. That same lingering odor clung to the air. Plus, there was the smell of the new tempurpedic mattress competing with the other smells in the air.
“What this place needs is a good fucking in,” Kaileen stated firmly.
“A good ASS fucking in,” she decided as she shrugged out of brand-new dress.
“But not that valet; I thought everything in Texas was supposed be big?” Kaileen continued as she walked into her miniscule bathroom.
After giving herself an enema, Kaileen dug around in her freezer and found her nine-inch glass dildo. She shivered with anticipation as she lubricated the cold, impersonal device.
“Uh, oh, yes!” Kaileen hissed as she slid the thick Pyrex instrument into her clenched anus.
Connelly College provided some very beautiful, fresh faced girls willing to prance around in bustier and panties, ankle socks and Mary Janes. Connelly College also provided an excellent manager and chefs.
Soo Chu Lin, the new manager did smile as Kaileen sped through the interview, obviously agitated. She flung her ankle length black hair back and stood, prepared to leave.
“You’re a million miles away, Ms. Withers,” Soo Chu Lin said. “I’ll get out of your hair.”
“Not a million, just eight hundred and ninety,” Kaileen said, shaking her head. “Please, sit back down, Ms. Soo. Let’s start again.”
Chapter 12—Another Christmas comes.
“They’re on the move again,” Kaileen’s private investigator stated. “Benhurst, Colorado.”
“What? Jesus, my apartment still smells like paint for God’s sake!” Kaileen sputtered. “What happened?”
Apparently, Jason’s utter incompetence had come to light; he had neglected to order twelve-inch couplers, twelve-inch elbow joints. He did briefly save face when he showed Coretta Adams, the CEO of Oakleaf County Sewage Treatment an invoice with the couplers and joints on order.
But Vincent Davis checked the invoice and saw that it was a year old. Vincent also noted that it was with a vendor Oakleaf County Sewage Treatments no longer used.
Further checks revealed that Jason had manufactured his previous experience. Garland County did not have a sewage treatment facility; they were still on a septic tank system county wide.
When Stephanie entered the rental home, she found Jason sullenly nursing his fourth, or fifth scotch and soda. At first, she refused Jason’s order that they were moving; she was doing quite well at Prescott Conglomerates.
Jason’s ego, however, would not allow him to have a wife, any woman as the sole breadwinner. His ego could not withstand his wife, any woman earning more than him.
Muttering her unhappiness, Stephanie fixed their supper. Then, while Jason nursed his sixth or seventh scotch and soda, Stephanie packed their meager possessions.
Alcohol and anger conspired against him and Jason was unable to fuck Stephanie that evening. Stephanie knew better than to smirk, though.
Arriving in Benhurst, Jason was employed by an Investment firm. Stephanie was able to secure a position as manager for a forty-two-unit apartment complex. Again, the jobs seemed to be perfectly suited for the two.
Even as Christmas music cheerfully played, Stephanie had no trouble evicting a mother and her two daughters. While Bing Crosby crooned ‘White Christmas’ Stephanie had no trouble ignoring the tenant in unit 304 when they complained that their heater was malfunctioning.
Jason found that he was actually quite astute at playing the market, using other people’s money. He was a risk-taker and more often than not, his risks were paying off. It wasn’t his money so Jason simply did not care.
And two days before Christmas, Jason came into the apartment, puffy face red with rage. Stephanie wondered if he would have a stroke.
“You. Will. Not. Believe. This,” Jason wheezed, a vein in his temple visible, pulsing with each beat of his heart.
“Okay then, just tell me,” Stephanie said, wondering if fifty thousand dollars was enough life insurance, or should she get a bigger policy on Jason.
“Right outside my window. Right there, you can’t miss it. Billboard, big as day, Daughters Steaks,” Jason screamed.
“Great,” Stephanie sighed.
“Why in the hell is she doing this to me?” Jason thundered, hammering his fist on a cheap end table. “God damn, where’s the scotch?”
“Us. Ass hole. Why is she doing this to us,” Stephanie corrected. “And the scotch is in the same place it’s been since we moved here.”
“Sassing me? Huh? You sassing me?” Jason screamed.
While Jason and Stephanie argued with each other, Kaileen got onto her Harley and thundered away from the Raquel Falls The Nasty Pig. She zipped along the snow-lined highway and marveled at the beauty surrounding her.
Arriving in Benhurst, Colorado, she used her GPS and found the Benhurst The Nasty Pig location. She nodded in satisfaction; there wasn’t an empty spot on the parking lot.
Inside the kitchen, the frenzied activity was an orchestrated chaos. The two chooks kept the line of scantily clad waitresses moving, slapping meat onto a bun’s bottom half, then laying the top bun half on and half off the piled high meat. A cup of the sweet and spicy barbeque sauce went onto the plate, then a bowl of what side item the customer had ordered.
“Jimmy, come on; table six is waiting,” a cute waitress implored the chubby dishwasher.
“Can’t do it, I can get someone else in here do it,” Kaileen threatened and the young man hustled out of the kitchen to the dining room.
“Thanks, Miss Kaileen,” the waitress smiled tightly. “I suppose he’s still mad because I don’t want to go out with him.”
After a few minutes, Kaileen saw that she was more of a distraction than a help. She reminded the staff that they were closing tomorrow at three o’clock, then meeting at Daughters Steaks for a Christmas party.
“My brother? He lives in North Dakota? He says there’s a Daughters there?” a cute African-American girl chirped. “He said Daughters has the best steaks anywhere.”
“That’s the original Daughters,” Kaileen agreed. “All right, see y’all tomorrow.”
Kaileen zipped up her leather jacket, put the helmet on her head and left the restaurant. The Harley rumbled to life when Kaileen pushed the starter and she negotiated out of the rear parking lot.
There were only a handful of people at Daughters. The two chefs assured Kaileen that the oven was ready, the steaks were prepped and ready, the vegetables were ready.
“And Eric’s cakes are ready, Randy Wurtzhammer, the manager said. “All three of them are in the walk-in, if you’d like to see them.”
In the morning, Kaileen left her log cabin and drove her truck to Benhurst First National Bank. Walking in, she asked to see Andrew Trahan, the manager.
“Ms. Withers?” a handsome, well-muscled young man smiled, extending his hand.
“Uh yeah, I, yeah, I’m Kaileen. Withers,” Kaileen stammered.
Her attraction to the man was immediate. He had thick brown hair, warm brown eyes, an easy smile and a confident air. His hands were large, and his shoes were large. Kaileen’s eyes went from his handsome face to his crotch, but the suit jacket prevented her from getting a glimpse of the goodies.
She also swept her gaze to his left hand. She smiled; there was no band on his third finger.
Inside of Andy’s office, Andy and his assistant manager counted out the fifty-three fifty-dollar bills and placed each bill into an envelope that was designed to display the denomination of the bill when the flap was lifted. Kaileen then verified the fifty-three envelopes and signed for them.
“Thank you, Ms. Withers,” Andy said, again giving Kaileen a warm handshake.
Yesterday evening, Deanna had let Kaileen know that the twenty-two envelopes, each containing a one-hundred-dollar bill had been prepared. Bethany, the manager of the Daughters in Lilton, North Dakota also let Kaileen know the twenty-four envelopes, each with a crisp one-hundred-dollar bill was ready to be handed out. Both Deanna and Bethany protested that their five hundred-dollar bonuses were far too generous.
Frank Upjohn had snapped that the five-hundred-dollar bonus was far too generous, but yes, each of the employees’ bonus envelopes were ready. Johnny Lennox likewise confirmed that her bonus envelopes were ready to be given to the employees of The Nasty Pig in Manzurak, Utah.
Soo Chu Lin confirmed that the bonuses were ready to be handed out at the Oakleaf Daughters restaurant. She also thanked Kaileen for her very generous bonus.
Driving from First National Bank, Kaileen entered the Daughters Steaks restaurant. Her feet made no sound on the plush carpet. There was little light; every third recessed light was on. But Kaileen did not need light; each Daughters restaurant was set up the same. She could negotiate the building blindfolded and never hit any furniture.
In the manager’s office, Kaileen verified that she was alone. She held her hand over the digital display and punched in the combination. Then she placed the envelops into the safe.
Then, Kaileen sat at the manager’s desk. She sat and wondered what she should do. Her Christmas outfit was at her new home, just waiting for her to come home and slip it on. Right now, though, Kaileen still had four and a half hours before the party was to begin.
Absently, she rubbed her crotch, thinking of the bank manager. Abruptly, she stopped her idle masturbation and picked up the desk telephone.
“Andy Trahan,” the man’s voice said.
“Mr. Trahan? Hi, Kaileen Withers, I uh, listen, our Christmas party is this afternoon? At Daughters, uh, let’s see, the address is twenty-four twenty-one Gold Rush drive?” Kaileen stammered.
At three thirty, Kaileen entered Daughters Steaks and went to the manager’s office. The woman looked up and smiled uncertainly when Kaileen knocked once and entered.
“Hi,” Kaileen smiled. “The caterers staff here yet?”
“Yes ma’am,” the woman said. “There’s already a few people here; wanting to get an early start on that open bar.”
“Mm-hmm, need y’all keep an eye on who has them little too much, hear?” Kaileen said, pulling her Santa cap out of her coat’s pocket.
Kaileen’s red flannel Santa dress came down to mid-thigh. The scoop neckline trimmed in white fur gave a goodly amount of Kaileen’s 32D cleavage. She then squatted down and quickly opened the safe.
With a smile and nod to the manager, Kaileen left the office. She circulated among the employees that were already in the dining area of Daughters Steaks; the staff of Daughters Steaks and the from The Nasty Pig that from the Raquel Falls location and the Benhurst location that were not scheduled to work that day. Shortly after three thirty, The Nasty Pig staff that had been working that day began to trickle in. Within moments, it was a loud, raucous party.