Ishtar Rising
Page 4
Oren licked the finger that had been inside her and the thumb that had almost petted her pussy to climax. Kay grabbed his other hand and pulled him up out of the chair and down the hall into the kitchen. She yelled, “I'm on break!” and Margarete took over her duties without really making note.
Marcos looked at them for a second before going back to his work. She thought Oren might have even waved at him. Kay pulled him into the little entrance alcove where the back entrance where she'd come in was. Her purse and Margarete's hung on the hooks on one side. Oren backed her against the wall on the other. He pinned her there and then lifted her arms over her head and closed her hands around the coat hooks. He dropped to his knees and then sat on the ground. He rubbed up the outside of her thighs, pushing her uniform up to her waist where he held it. He lifted her weight off her feet and then she spread her legs for him. He moved her legs to rest on his shoulders and buried his face in her cunt. He gobbled her pie like it was cobbler.
She suffered her orgasm in silence, knowing so many ears were so close. Oren drank down her pleasure, lapping up every wave. When he stood, he spun her around so that she faced the wall. Her arms twisted and she readjusted them so she could help pull up her weight. With one hand around her hips and across her stomach, Oren unzipped his fly with his other. Kay heard it and then felt the broad smooth head pressed against her entrance from behind. She angled her hips and Oren plunged his cock inside her. This time she could not keep silent. She cried out with the ecstasy of him filling her so completely.
He fucked her hard and fast from behind. It was a position she wouldn't have thought would have worked this well, but it did. With every thrust the head of his cock touched some sensitive spot deep inside her, pushing her toward a quick and violent orgasm. Her face, forearms and breasts were the only things touching the wall. His pumping rubbed her aroused nipples against the rough finish of the cheap wood paneling. He bit her shoulder as he came. His sperm spurted against her cervix, triggering her own spasms.
He panted against her shoulder and gave her time to catch her breath before setting her down on less than steady feet. He pulled her hem down to cover her ass and turned her around. There was nothing to be done about the missing buttons of her dress and it gaped open at the chest. He kissed her neck and ear and whispered his first words in English, “I am for you, Sinnis Ina Ummum Zumru, Tara Kay Woods.”
Kay didn't know what to say and so she said nothing. She found a safety pin in her purse and made herself presentable. She told Oren to go back to his table because she needed a minute to get redressed. She really needed time away from him. He clouded her mind. He was the most potent drug she'd ever had. She felt high when she was with him and not the easy going good kind. It was the lose track of where you are, what you're doing, and saying kind. Kay didn't like it but she also didn't think she could live without it.
She expected every Calumite to be staring at her when she came back into the dining room. They weren't. Some were gone. The rest were acting as if they hadn't seen her get groped and finger fucked and then heard her come twice in the kitchen so close to where their food was prepared.
It was a fact that what went up had to come down. She had no panties to serve as her last line of defense and she kept expecting to have to run to the bathroom to deal with the remnants of their sex. She didn't. It was like her body totally absorbed every drop of evidence.
The rest of the afternoon went by pretty uneventfully. After all, she was just a waitress in a small town restaurant.
Chapter 3
Sheriff Whitney Stout hung his hat on the hat rack just inside the door of his office. There were three hanging beside it. The office was quiet as usual. The sheriff was the law in this area; there were no police, just the county sheriff and his twelve deputies. It had been a state trooper that pulled his son over those years ago. Damn troopers were always putting their noses where they didn't belong. If it had been him or one of his, Whitney could have contained the damage but as it was the state had wanted to make an example of Ashley.
He could hear Ashley and his crew talking in his office. He walked past an officer doing paperwork and exchanged a head bob but nothing more by way of greeting. Whitney got a mug of coffee and went into his office. “Boys,” he said as he took his place behind his desk. His office chair was leather and squeaked a little when he sat and then scooted forward.
There were three messages on the yellow paper dispatch used, laying on his desk. He glanced at them. All three were about the same thing. Over the last few weeks more than two dozen people had called in to report seeing a pack of some kind of giant animal. They were always the same: at night between the hours of 1am and 3, three maybe four of them, running. They looked like wolves but were the size of bears. There shouldn't be bears in this area. And bears did NOT run in packs, not ever. He was beginning to think the Senior class had gotten together for a prank. The hours suggested it, as no law abiding adult was up at that hour and there hadn't been any injuries. He tucked them away in the appropriate file to look at later.
“Well?” Ashley asked impatiently.
“Well what?”
Will almost came out of his seat. “Well what!? Where the hell has she been? What excuse did she have?”
Sheriff entered his user name and password on the computer. He left it running all the time. Goddamn hippies would never convince him of human induced global warming, no matter how many scientists they got to lie for them. “Who?”
The boys looked at each other. Jackie spoke, his eyebrows pinched together, “Tara. Dad, we're asking about Tara Kay.”
“Oh, she's fine. I'll have to cancel that missing person's report. She over at the diner working.” He leafed through the files on his desk until he found hers. He wrote some notes and then closed it. The boys stared at him as he took out his sheriffs stamp and marked the front of the manila folder. It was the county sheriff emblem around a circle with cross-hairs. His initials went in the top left quadrant to signal the case was closed. Double checking on his desk calendar, he added the date in the lower right.
“Dad! There's something not right about her.” Jackie practically yelled.
“And she's not supposed to be with someone else...with green hair.” It didn't make sense but Ashley had tacked on the green hair bit because he knew his dad didn't want him and Tara Kay together. He didn't mention that the man scared the shit out of him. He'd never forget what happened in the woods that night. Sheriff looked at his son through through slitted eyes.
Deputy Rayney rapped on the open door with his knuckles and spoke at the same time. “Sheriff, someone's here to see you.” He was just a few years older than Ashley but he was a constant reminder that the sheriff's son had done nothing with his life. Whitney tried not to take it out on his young deputy. “A suit. And he's packing. I.D. says he's from the capital,” Rayney whispered, leaning his head in a bit.
Whitney knew he meant Austin, not D.C. That was the only authority folks in these parts recognized. 'Secede' wasn't a rare response to the evening news. He shewed the boys up out of their seats and toward the door. “Show him in. They're just leaving.”
“But we're not through.” Will protested.
Whitney surveyed the one to contradict him. Ashley had always been the visible leader of the group but the sheriff had long wondered if it was the other who pulled the strings behind the scenes. Will was smart, much smarter than his boys, and the Cunninghams were one of the first families to settle in Calum. They were used to running things. He locked eyes with Will, “Oh. Yes. We. Are.” He accented every word and then added, “You leave that girl alone. She's trash and trash attracts varmints. You'll get bit every time you get involved with her shit.”
***
The parking lot was almost empty when Tara Kay pulled her old Chevette in. The car was old and had one front side panel in the wrong color, but it was hers and she loved it. She went around back to the employee parking lot. Bare A$$ets wasn't the only strip club on the co
unty line but it was one of the oldest and most successful. And yes, they spelled it with dollar signs. They never claimed they were cla$$y.
She really didn't want to be here. Strip clubs were so pathetic in the light of day. Only the most desperate were there before the sun set, but Kay thought they were better than the group that would surely follow in the cover of darkness. Tara Kay was there for the same reason as everyone else during the day – desperation. She needed a shower and her place didn't have running water. She parked next to a couple of very nice cars and went to the employee entrance.
Kay both wanted Oren to be there and was embarrassed for him to see her at her second job. Not many men would stick around after seeing her act. Oren had refused to get into the car when she offered him a ride and she couldn't decide if she was relieved or upset. He had indicated that he would follow but she didn't know how. Then again he had shown up at the restaurant remarkably fast after she left him standing in her driveway so he must have a means of travel.
She used her key to get in. Aunt Melody accosted her before the door had time to shut behind Kay. The hug was extra tight. Melody wasn't really her aunt. There was no relation at all, as far as Kay knew. Melody had moved into town shortly after Kay's parents had been incarcerated. Kay had been a teenager but Melody treated her as if she were an adult. On the other hand, Melody had always been overly protective of Kay, disapproving of Ash from the get-go.
“Thank goodness you're alright.” Melody backed up and looked at Kay. Kay dropped her eyes and walked around Melody. “You seem different.” She took a couple of sniffs. “Smell different too.”
Kay threw her bag on the chair at her station. A couple of lipsticks fell over and rolled onto the ground. She ignored them. “I know. I need a shower big time.“ She grabbed a towel off of the shelf and went into the shower stall.
“No. You smell ... good. You look good too.” Melody shouted over the sound of the shower starting. “You look like you spent the last few days in a swanky spa getting pampered.”
“I wish.” Kay yelled back. She threw her diner uniform over the door and got into the stream of water. She wet her hair first. It felt so good. She closed her eyes and just experienced. The pressure was great here, making a shower almost as good as a massage. She let it pound the muscles of her back, especially right between her shoulder blades. As the drops rolled down her body, she got the sensation that ...
“Well?”
Kay opened her eyes. “Well what?”
“I said, where the hell have you been, then?”
“Oh, I met somebody and we went camping for a few days.” It was the best story she could come up with. She planned to tell the sheriff the same thing if he ever came asking again. She was still wondering what Oren had done to Sheriff Stout.
“You shouldn't just disappear like that, you know. You had your friends worried sick.”
“I don't have any fucking friends. You damn well know that.”
Melody snorted. “It's that mouth of yours! And you do too. You have me. You have Charly Boi. You should call him. He's really worried. He came here looking for you.”
That alone told Kay how very worried he had been. Charly Boi wasn't just not attracted to girls. He thought girl parts were disgusting. He often told them that he preferred to think of them smooth down there, like a Barbie. That illusion was hard to maintain in here where all their a$$ets were bare.
“I saw him earlier.” Tara Kay cut her shower short. She still felt high though she didn't know how that was possible. According to the sheriff she had dropped and rolled over 80 hours ago. She toweled off her hair first and then did a once over her body. She refused to think about how she could feel every thread of the rough towels or how she knew the exact brand of detergent that was used to clean them. She couldn't smell that. She was just high.
She went to her station and tugged on a matching thong and bra set. She plopped down in the chair and proceeded to dry her hair. The warmth blowing from the dryer was seductive. She only dried it partially. It suffered enough abuse that it didn't need any extra. Tara Kay sat with her back to Melody's but they could see each other in their respective mirrors. Melody turned to look at Kay's back while the late comer finished her hair.
“Your hair looks really green. Not a root to be seen. Did you just dye it?” It was a rhetorical question. It wasn't like the hair got green on it's own. “You are going to have to give up on that coloring eventually, you know.” Melody was blond naturally but forced the issue with chemicals so often that her hair reminded Kay of a dandelion. Kay's hair was naturally dark and she had to abuse her own to keep it green so she didn't say anything about Melody's.
“Never. I'll die a green head.” Kay flippantly replied. Melody wasn't listening. She was starring at Kay's back. Her tattoo had enthralled the other woman who was intimately acquainted with the ink. Kay angled her head and raised her eyebrows. “My eyes are up here.”
“What? Oh, sorry. I was just daydreaming.” Kay didn't believe her. Melody was still looking at her tattoo. “Can I do your eyes tonight?”
Kay shrugged. She didn't really enjoy putting on her war paint as other women did. Sometimes Aunt Melody liked to do it. She turned her chair around and Melody slid over to her. Melody stared at her for a long moment before starting in with the eye shadow. Kay thought she detected a little shake in the woman's application hand.
Melody's voice was barely over a whisper when she asked, “Do you even know what has happened? What this means?”
“What?” Kay asked without opening her eyes. She didn't want to smear Melody's work even if she was being weird.
“Nothing. Sorry. I took something crazy last night and it's making me think and say strange things. Ignore me.” The liner and mascara were applied without another word.
Something about Melody's smell reminded Kay of Oren, but she couldn't put her finger on it. Her perfume wasn't changed. Melody's body smelled vaguely of Kay's new lover. Kay's mouth started to water as she saw her 'aunt' in a whole new light. Something about the woman drew Kay to her. She wanted Melody.
“There. All done. You look perfect.” Melody made a slight bow to Kay as she backed up.
Kay heard her music and barely had time to get her outfit on before her cue. She didn't look at the mirror. She walked onto the dark stage. She shouldn't have been able to hear Melody back in the dressing room over the music, but she did. She heard Melody say into her cell, “I swear. He is risen. He lives. And he has taken his Sinnis. Our queen is my ward. An earth witch.”
***
Charly Boi loved his car. It had started out as an old Buick but he had totally customized it to his tastes. The inside was ultra lush with extra cushy seats, covered in zebra print with lime green stitching. It was old enough that it had bench seats even in front and Charly Boi drove with his right arm resting on the seat's back. The dashboard and interior of the doors were maroon at one time, but had faded to a pink that went well with the rest of the car. Carpets were all redone in lime green.
The paint was his favorite color – lime green. The top was what he called 'pimp topped'. It was the same color as the bottom but it had gold flecks embedded in the paint that made it sparkle in the sun like diamonds. No one else had anything like it. All the chrome work on the outside was custom too. The front grill said 'Charly Boi' as did the rims. They were modified spinners that showed his name only when the wheels were moving.
He might live in a hovel but no one knew it from seeing him about town. He presented himself as a man of means and no one, save Tara Kay, had ever seen his home. There were no apartments in Calum He came by his home the same way everyone else here did. Inheritance. Charly Boi was at least 12 generation Calum, but family records were hazy at best. His family had been there as long as the Cunninghams and Stouts, only his had been slaves.
His car was his life. So when he hit an animal with it on the highway that night, his first thought was that his car was ruined not that he might die. A squirrel or eve
n a raccoon or opossum he would have passed over with no damage, but this was no 'coon. Charly Boi hit a furry brick wall.
The creature was unlike anything he had ever seen but it was dark and in a wreck no one is at their most attentive. It could have been a giant wolf or maybe a bear walking on all fours. His bumper and grill area smashed into it's broad side, stopping the car's forward motion instantly.
Charly Boi sat for a second catching his breath and totaling up the cost of body work he was going to have to have done to get his ride back the way he liked it. He was about to take his buckle off and get out of the car. He needed to get away from the wreckage to be safe in case somebody came over the hill behind him. A giant clawed paw smashed into the hood.
The animal was still alive. It used the hood to pull itself up. The noise was so loud, the five inch claws scraping and poking through the metal, the metal groaning. Then the head came into view and all thoughts of his car's condition fled. Charly Boi felt sure he was going to die. There was no way he was going to survive if this animal decided to attack. His car was 'a lover, not a fighter', built for beauty not strength.
The animal was all muzzle and teeth. It's eyes glowed red in the dark. It's face was illuminated for an instant as the semi-trailer truck came over the hill and smashed into the tail end of Charly Boi's car. It pushed the car and the creature forward at an angle, off the road. The creature roared but the sound cut off with it's head. It was crushed between the front of the car and a giant old tree. It was decapitated and the newly freed head smashed into the windshield with a red splat causing Charly Boi to scream. It rolled off and landed somewhere outside his door.
When he quit screaming, Charly Boi dialed 911, thankful he had reception. He told the calm lady on the other end what had happened, including a description of the animal. She said that they had a lot of calls about those. He thought she even sounded a little pleased that they would now have a dead one to examine and determine what it was. She did not, in his opinion, express the proper amount of sympathy about the loss of his car.