“I hate to take your money for such an easy assignment, Tim."
“But you will, I'm sure."
Borders laughed and said, “Damn right I will. I'm finding it difficult to play golf at your expensive courses on the little pension I receive."
* * * *
“Get your clothes off, bitch,” Eddie said as Greta came through the front door.
Eddie's eyes were bloodshot and his speech was slightly slurred. Greta knew he had been drinking heavily and she started stripping immediately. “I didn't see Sewana's car outside."
“Fuck her. Who needs her?” he said as he pushed down his pants. He sat in the recliner. “Come give me a ride,” he demanded.
She straddled the arms of the chair and grimaced as his penis pushed through her unlubricated labia.
“Said she changed her mind. Shit. She said you are ugly and didn't turn her on."
Greta pulled his hands to her breasts.
“I don't think you are ugly, baby. I don't know what I ever saw in that black slut in the first place."
She felt his penis begin to shrink. Too much beer, she thought. “Squeeze ’em harder, honey. Hurt me a little."
“Yeah? Like this? You like a little pain, don't you bitch?"
“Oh, yeah, Eddie. A little pain is good.” She felt his penis harden and knew she was on the right track. She needed to finish him off quickly and she began to pump as rapidly as her cramped position would allow.
“You love sliding up and down on old Eddie's pole, don't you bitch?"
“Oh yeah, baby. Drive it in me. Open your mouth, baby. I have something for you.” She shot her tongue deep into his mouth and moved it like a jackhammer.
He moaned and she felt his semen jetting into her. She collapsed against him and hugged his head to her breasts. “Oh, honey. I was so horny. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you."
Eddie laughed and reached for his beer. “Tim didn't slip it to you today?"
“No. Eddie, something happened today. It's not all bad, but it's not all good either."
“Get off of me, bitch. You're leaking."
Greta managed to get to the floor without staining the chair. She pulled a handful of tissues from the box on the coffee table and placed them strategically. She knelt before him and fondled his scrotum. “You want me to clean you up with my mouth?"
“I want you to tell me what happened."
“Somehow Sandy and Tim found out they were both having sex with me."
“Shit,” he said.
“Wait. That's not the bad part. They want to make it a threesome."
“Damn perverts,” he said sarcastically.
“I told them I was all for it. I asked if they would do something I liked—make videos to watch later. They agreed."
“All right, Greta. You're a dumb bitch, but sometimes you come through for old Eddie. You set the trap and they walked right into it."
“Yeah,” she said with a big smile on her face. He was proud of her and she liked it. There'll be no belt on my bottom tonight, she thought.
“What's the bad news?"
“They want me to move in with them. They want me available night and day. They saw the bruises on my ass the other day and know that you beat me sometimes. They said they'd treat me real nice."
“What did you tell them?"
“I asked them to let me think about it a few days. I didn't know what to say."
“If Black Beauty hadn't walked out it would be okay. I'm going to have to give this some thought. Maybe, if you are gone, she'll move back in. Man, she has a tight little pussy."
“What happened, honey? Why did she leave? She seemed okay this morning."
“The damned bitch tricked me,” he fumed. “You told her about the room. I caught her snooping and was about to beat the shit out of her when she came up with this cock and bull story about how she wanted to torture you in the room. Hell, I fell for it. The cunt gave me a blowjob and when we were back upstairs she got my rifle and threatened to kill me if I tried to stop her. The damn bitch even made me pack her car for her. I'll get even one day, you mark my words. I'll get even."
* * * *
I spend all day making the Dollars’ yard a showplace and never get a chance to work on mine, Maggie thought as she drove the lawnmower into the shed behind her rented house. She picked up an empty bushel basket and headed for the flower garden next to the front porch on either side of the steps.
She shook her head as she looked at the weed-infested area. I'll bet it was lovely once, she thought. Poor things don't have a chance to grow with all these weeds. She bent from the waist, tightening the jeans against her buttocks and started pulling the weeds and tossing them into the basket. She worked quickly and sweat began to soak her flannel shirt.
She looked around. Hell, she thought, can't anybody see me except the Dollars, and they would need binoculars. She pulled off her gloves and removed the shirt. She loosened the sports bra just a little and went back to work. She came to a clump of weeds that would not yield to her efforts. She worked around it until the entire garden was weed free—except for that one stubborn clump.
She picked up the now full basket and dumped it into a wire cage in the back yard. After the weeds dry out, she promised herself, I'll burn the rascals. She put the basket back in the shed and started to leave, but then she saw a rusty spade. She sighed. It's not dark yet. I may as well finish the job.
It required more effort that she expected, but finally the roots gave way. The clump of roots was as large as a basketball. She shook it repeatedly, causing the dirt in the roots to fall back to the ground. Several small pebbles fell with the dirt. She set the ball of weeds aside and picked up the rocks. She didn't want those in her flower garden. However, one of the rocks didn't feel quite right. It looked like lead. She stuck it in the side pocket of her jeans and continued her work with visions of healthy, flowering plants dancing in her head.
Chapter Fifteen
“Mrs. Dollar, I just can't do it,” Greta said. “Eddie was so pitiful last night when I told him you offered to let me live with you. He begged me not to move out. He said he would never be mean to me again.” Greta reached for the dishtowel and Sandra poured a cup of coffee.
“I see,” Sandra said. “He has beaten you repeatedly, but you believe him when he says he won't do it anymore."
“You don't understand. Eddie's the best when he wants to be, and I do owe him. After the thing I told you about, he took me in and looked after me until I was back on my feet. He got me a job as a waitress. He ... he didn't get mean until we moved to Dot. I want to believe him. I need to believe him."
“You may have the rest of the day off to look for another job if you like,” Sandra said. “If you go around town babbling about Tim and me having sex with you, nobody will believe you.” Sandra pushed her body against Greta's back, forcing the housekeeper against the edge of the kitchen sink. “I was just getting to the point where I could enjoy these,” she said as she briefly caressed Greta's breasts.
“Please don't fire me,” Greta said as she managed to turn around and press her body tightly against Sandra's. “I ain't gonna tell nobody. Why would I tell? Eddie would be furious."
Sandra placed her hands on either side of Greta's head and pulled her lips close to her own. She closed her eyes and sighed as Greta's hands skillfully groped her tight buttocks.
“Go ahead and kiss her,” Tim said as he came into the kitchen.
Sandra turned Greta towards Tim and, standing behind the housekeeper, ran her hands under Greta's blouse and grasped her breasts. “Greta wants to continue living with Eddie, but she also wants to continue to work for us."
Tim unbuttoned Greta's blouse so he could watch his wife's hands at work. “And what was your answer?” he asked as he unbuttoned Greta's slacks and pushed his hand inside her panties.
“It's up to you. Her boobs are a hell of a lot larger than mine.” Sandra pinched Greta's nipples and Tim smiled as blood engorged them.
“Please, Mr. Dollar—Tim. We can make it work without me moving in,” Greta pleaded as the trio ascended the stairs.
Sandra, who was trailing, playfully pulled Greta's loose slacks and panties to mid thigh and fondled her buttocks. “Sound's to me like you prefer your sadistic master to Tim and me, Greta."
“Sandy, I want all three of you."
Tim striped off her blouse as they entered the bedroom. “See, Greta. I even set the camcorder up on the tripod, just like you wanted. Now you're backing down on us.” He walked to the video camera and focused on his wife's probing hands as they stretched and kneaded Greta's dangling breasts.
Greta turned and gently removed Sandra's cotton shirt. Slowly she fingered the large nipples mounted on tiny mounds of snow-white flesh. “When we was panning for gold, Junior slipped and grabbed the top of Maggie's bathing suit, pulling it down off her boobs. Junior looked at her tits with his mouth wide open and said something about her breasts being a lot bigger than yours, Sandy. I wanted to tell him how wonderful your tits feel in my mouth, but of course I didn't."
She bent over and tongued Sandra's right nipple. Tim zoomed in for a close-up.
Sandra pushed Greta's slacks and panties to her ankles and held them in place while Greta stepped out of them. Tim followed the action as Sandy gripped the large buttock cheeks and kissed Greta's navel.
“I can't see what your mouth is doing, Dudette. Put her on the bed with her tail towards the camera."
While Sandy slipped out of her clothes Greta assumed the desired position, pulled her knees back to her chest and then split them apart as far as they would go. Sandra sucked as much of Greta's right breast into her mouth as possible and let her fingers travel down to Greta's damp labia.
“Sit on her face and bury your tongue in her pussy,” Tim urged as he zoomed in for a close-up of the gaping slash between Greta's legs.
Sandra lowered her vagina to Greta's waiting lips and shuddered as she felt her vaginal lips parted by an eager tongue. She leaned forward and grasped Greta's buttocks. She gasped as she realized Greta nose was rubbing her clitoris. She lowered her head. She tried to push out her tongue, but hesitated and looked up at Tim. “I can't do it,” she fretted. “It stinks."
Tim ripped off his clothes. “You man the camera,” he instructed. “It smells like a sizzling two inch thick piece of tenderloin to me."
* * * *
“Sit down, Eddie,” George Bennett said.
“You wanted to see me?” Eddie asked as he sat on the sofa.
Bennett sprawled in his desk chair and drummed his fingers on the desk. “Eddie, you've been a good employee. You're a good cook and a hard worker. You've put in a lot of overtime and haven't been out sick a single day."
“Thank you, Mr. Bennett. You pay fair wages. It's a pleasure working for you."
“I didn't call you in here to praise you, Eddie. We have a problem."
Eddie's smile disappeared. “What kind of problem, Mr. Bennett?"
“Sewana has made a very serious accusation. She says you have been sexually harassing her—trying to get in her panties, to use her expression."
“Mr. Bennett,” Eddie said nervously, “I assure you..."
Bennett held up his hand. “No use denying it, Eddie. I've seen your hand on her butt and so have others. I thought it was consensual, so I didn't say anything. Even if it was consensual, the way things are nowadays, all a woman has to do is claim harassment and everybody believes her. It's up to the man to prove his innocence, and how can you prove something that never happened, never happened?"
“I admit I have flirted with her, but she has flirted with me too. Never has she asked me to stop."
“I believe you Eddie, but she can still sue you and win. It's her word against yours and who do you think the court will believe? Eddie, she's pissed with you and out to get you. You should be glad she didn't accuse you of rape."
“Look, Mr. Bennett. I promise I'll stay away from her."
“It's too late for that. She can sue me too, Eddie, if I don't take action to stop the alleged harassment. I checked that out with Susan Kimel, the lawyer in Dot. I offered to change your schedule and/or Sewana's so that the two of you don't work the same hours, but Sewana wouldn't go for it. She insists that I terminate your employment."
“You're firing me?” Eddie asked incredulously.
“I don't have any choice, Eddie, but listen to me for a few more minutes. Have you ever noticed the huge black man who comes in here sometimes—always chewing on an unlit cigar?"
Eddie's head was almost between his knees. “Yeah,” he muttered. Rage engulfed him and his mind plotted revenge as his eyes glazed over.
“His name is Willie Donaldson. Folks call him Big Willie. He's the superintendent of the Dollars’ golf courses. His wife runs the concession stand at the clubhouse. Big Willie told me the other day that his wife needs some help. I gave him a call this morning and explained your situation. He said he was in a relationship once that looked worse than it actually was. He said he'd talk to you if you are interested in working at the concession stand. I don't think he will pay you as much as I do. He groaned when I told him your salary. But Dollar Enterprises has a hell of a benefit package."
Eddie took Bennett's lead and stood up. As he shook hands he said, “You're a good man, Mr. Bennett. I don't blame you for this mess, but somebody ought to teach Sewana a lesson."
“Be careful, Eddie,” Bennett said. “We're living in a woman's world now. She told me you frequently beat your wife. I don't believe it for a minute, but if Sewana gets to Greta, you may have even more trouble on your hands. Sewana's a smart gal and she's after your hide. Don't give her any ammunition to use against you."
Eddie glared at Sewana as he passed through the kitchen to gather up his personal belongings.
“You brought it on yourself,” she said. “If you ever hurt Greta again, I'll sue you for all you are worth in civil court. If you don't believe I can do that, check it out."
“What goes around comes around, baby. One day, when you're least expecting it, you'll get yours."
“I take that as a threat."
“Take it any damn way you want to, Nigger, but it's not a threat. It's a statement of fact."
Eddie drove directly to the Dollars’ recreational complex, but he slowed as he approached Double D Acres. He could see a woman sweeping the front porch of the Dollars’ home and assumed it was Greta. There was a child playing in the front yard. Must be the brat, he thought.
This was his first visit to Dot's main commercial attraction and he was impressed. He smiled at the black lady at the snack bar as he strolled through the clubhouse. He spoke to a man in a wheelchair who seemed to be running the pro shop. “I'm here to see Mr. Donaldson."
“Who?"
“Mr. Donaldson."
The man laughed. “You mean Big Willie? I almost forgot what his last name is. Do you have an appointment?"
“No, but he's expecting me."
“Your name Eddie Crow?"
“Yeah."
“I'm Matt Dilson. I'm the manager of the Dollars’ playground. Big Willie told me about you. A bitch once falsely accused me of sexual harassment, too. It cost me my job and put me in this damned wheelchair. You'll get a sympathetic reception around here."
“I'm looking for a job in the snack bar. Do I need to see you or this Big Willie?"
“Big Willie. I think he's in the maintenance area. Go through that door and follow the path to the right."
Eddie nodded and followed the directions. When he saw Big Willie, chomping on a cigar and holding a clipboard in his hand, Eddie thought he was looking at the biggest, ugliest man ever born.
“What's on your mind?” Big Willie grunted without looking u
p.
“Name's Eddie Crow. Mr. Bennett talked with you about me."
Big Willie made an entry on the clipboard, took the unlit cigar from his mouth and spat on the earthen floor. “You're the guy who got the hots for a cute little sister who pressed your nuts in a vice?"
Eddie laughed in spite of himself.
“Bennett says he thinks you didn't do nothing more than flirt with the girl. Is that your story?"
“Truth is,” Eddie said, his pride wounded, “I screwed her several times. She loved it. Hell, she moved in with the wife and me so she could be close to me all the time. Then she tried to take over—wanted to treat Greta like a slave and, shit, she wanted threesomes. I wouldn't stand for it and kicked her out, but boy, did she get even with me."
Big Willie chuckled. “Let me give you a little advice, son. Don't ever mess with a sister. Hell, for that matter, don't ever mess with any female. You read about that woman who cut off her husband's pecker? Got off Scott free."
“About the job, Mr. Donaldson."
“Name's Big Willie,” he said as he rolled the cigar from one side of his mouth to the other. “I run the golf courses, but Louise—that's my wife—runs me. She's in charge of the concession area and she's expecting you. Whatever she decides is okay with me."
“I guess she's the black lady I saw when I came in."
Big Willie nodded. “Let me tell you something about that woman. She's the best God ever made and good looking too. A few years ago when we were living in Winston-Salem, she was just sitting in our living room watching TV and was wounded by a damn drive by son-of-a-bitch. Bullet caught her at the base of her spine. The doctors said she'd never walk again, but she fooled them. She has a little limp, but she gets along pretty good until she gets real tired. Then she uses her walker, but we sold her wheelchair six months ago."
“Man, I'm sorry she suffered all that misery, but I'm glad she came through it all right."
“She ain't completely over it yet—still has nightmares sometimes. You go on in there and introduce yourself."
“You said her name was Louise?"
Big Willie nodded, took the cigar out of his mouth and spat again. “You listen to me, Eddie Crow. You flirt with her or put your paw on her just once and I'll squash you like a bug. You understand me?"
Sintown Chronicles II: Through Bedroom Windows Page 18
