My Second Piece of Ass Ch. 25

Laura was miffed at me. I was taking too much satisfaction at being hung up on my Ollie Pettersen, twice in one day.

I stopped talking about Ollie’s urgent telephone call and she dropped it too.

“What’s in the package?” She asked as she slid next to me on the car seat. She had seen the package that had arrived from my family. It was a box of birthday presents for me. This would mark the third birthday that Laura had forgotten or overlooked since we had been acquainted.

“It’s from my family,” I answered casually.

I watched her study me out of the corner of my eye.

It came to her, “it’s your birthday, isn’t it? When is it? Did I miss it again?”

“You look cute. I don’t think I’ve seen you wear your hair that way,” I said, trying to divert the subject. Her hair was held in place with a clip about half way down the back of her head. She wore no make up.

“When is it? Tell me.”

“Monday,” I said.

“Next Monday?”

I shook my head.

“Last Monday?”

I nodded.

“You were 22 on Monday?”

“Yes, so you only have me by 9 years again,” I said, trying to deflect her shame at having forgotten my birthday.

“I didn’t get you anything. What can I get you? It’s not too late, is it?”

“We spent Sunday together. That was the nicest present you could give me.”

“Why didn’t you say anything? If I had known I would have done something special.”

“You did. We did C. C. Stone, remember? You offered to do anything and that’s what I chose.”

“I’ll make it up to you tonight. We’ll do something special. I mean, really special.”

Laura didn’t comment when I turned to take the long way to the city. I knew she would not want to go by Ollie Pettersen’s Used Car lot, not on this day, even if taking the long way delayed our arrival at the Waites. She looked my way adoringly but said nothing.

We made fast work of picking out the dress she would wear that night. She chose a black and white dress with narrow shoulder straps. She modeled it in front of me, showing bare shoulders and a hint of cleavage. Later, she returned with a black jacket which covered her shoulders and when buttoned, disguised the low cut front.

Saying we did not have time to pick out a second outfit, she went back to the dressing room with new underwear and stockings. When she returned I whistled. She was still without makeup and her hair was in the modified ponytail.

“Did you bring the money?” She gave me a quizzical look when I opened her last pay envelope and counted out the bills she would need to pay for her purchases. Nothing was said about my failure to make a bank deposit.

When we were under way she was busy arranging her hair. Instead of a single bun on the back of her head like Huley often did, Laura bundled her hair in two buns, spaced at either side of her head and held in place with combs. Her forehead was extended and the part at the center of her head of pronounced.

“That’s a new look. Where did you find it, in a magazine?”

She smiled at me, tucked a cloth into the front of the buttoned jacket and reached for the case we had brought from the brothel. Laura cautioned me to slow down and not hit any bumps because she was applying touches of makeup to her lips and eyebrows.

“You look fantastic,” I said as I opened the car door for her when we got to the Waite’s home.

“Thank you sweetheart,” Laura responded, stopping us to adjust my tie. “You’re getting old enough to make your complements mean something to this old lady.”

The dining room table looked miniature in the large room. As Mr. Waite had told me, the table had been reduced to sit six although there would have been room for two more places. I had wondered who the other two guests would be and was surprised to find that one of them was Mollie Foster, the former madam at the brothel.

Mollie was the same cantankerous person I had first met in the brothel over two years before. She had been side-lined by a heart attack but was back to her willful ways. Not only had she regained use of her sharp tongue, she now had a weapon. A cane dangled at the back of her chair.

Laura was delighted to see Mollie and the lady sitting next to her. Bea Cummins was introduced as an old friend of both Mollie and Laura. The three of them monopolized the conversation with Bea doing most of the talking. She was a beautiful woman in her mid forties, dressed fashionably with fancy jewelry. By her appearance I would have taken her for the wife of a politician or a business executive. In fact, she wore a large diamond on her ring finger. But when she spoke, bawdy tones emerged from her gorgeous lips. Her laugh was course and loud. There was no question how Mollie and Laura knew Bea Cummins. They were from the same work sorority. Bea was a whore, through and through.

We were well into the meal before I recognized what was happening. Mollie, Laura and Mr. Waite were asking Bea probing questions. Even Wanda seemed unusually curious about her guest. An interview was in progress. But for what position, the madam?

I decided that must be it. If so, did that mean Mollie was not able to return to work? What was to happen to Laura? Would Laura return to the line up? They had six girls now, was there room for more?

When Mollie took her leave early it became evident that room had been made for her on the first floor of the Waite home. “We’ll try to be quiet,” Wanda said to Mollie. “If we get too noisy just tap your cane.”

An hour later when Bea Cummins said her goodnights Harold Waite told her she would be hearing from him. It was 10 P.M. when Laura and I were ushered into the study for brandy and coffee. When Wanda excused herself saying she needed to look in on Mollie Mr. Waite proposed that she wait.

“What is your verdict my dear?”

Wanda looked befuddled, surprised to be asked for her opinion. Hesitantly, “She has certain qualities,” Wanda paused. “Harold, why are you asking me? I have no experience judging such things.”

“I value your judgment. You saw something in her. What did you see?”

“Well, alright Harold, if you insist I saw a pleasing exterior that could charm the pants off of certain men and I saw a gruff side that would make some men put their pants back on.” Wanda had a flushed look on her face. With a half-curtsy she backed out of the room as if to say to her husband, “There.”

When Harold and Laura began discussing Bea’s strengths and weaknesses I wondered if I was supposed to be in the room. Glancing around I saw three coffees and three brandies had been poured. I took a sip of coffee and listened to the discussion.

After an hour I was still wondering why I was there. Besides pouring Mr. Waite and myself a second brandy I had done nothing but listen. The talk was positive. Bea was going to get the job as madam. They were down to the compensation offer when Mr. Waite turned to me. “What do you have to say about this Randy?”

“I think Wanda summed it up pretty well,” I said when I recovered from the shock of being called upon. “I haven’t met that many madams but Bea Cummins is how I picture they would act. Nothing stumped her. She answered your questions without having to think about the answers.”

“Yes,” Mr. Waite said in a tone that could have been taken for approval or dismissal of my comment. Finished with the Bea Cummins discussion, he proceeded to tell us what he had in mind for Laura.

“This is strictly hush, hush,” he began, peering in at me over his glasses for a full 30 seconds before continuing. “Randy, you are here because I would rather you hear this from me than from Laura.”

This was followed by a clearing of his throat and a wide grin which was uncharacteristic of Mr. Waite, making me think he has stopped short of saying, “in bed.”

Wanda entered the room as if on cue. She was bright eyed and smiling when Mr. Waite announced that he was going to be appointed to a judgeship.

Laura and I did not know what to make of it. Why were Harold and Wanda acting giddy and what did his appointment have to do with Laura?

“Naturally, my involvement in certain business activities must remain secret. The public would not take kindly to a public servant who is engaged in illicit activities, not even as a silent partner.

“Laura, Wanda and I have placed all of our assets in a trust and we want you to be the caretaker, with my guidance of course.” Again, Harold Waite showed us his front teeth.

Laura would assume the title of Property Manager for the Waite holdings which, in addition to the five new properties, included 31 rental units under the control of Sid Parker. The brothel business was not mentioned by name but the two story building where it was housed was under the umbrella of the trust.

It had been arranged for Sid Parker to take Laura under his wing. He wanted to retire within two years. The 31 properties would be turned over to Laura over the course of that time.

Additionally, Bea Cummins would report to Laura. I wondered how Laura would make the transition from the midnight shift to day work. Could she keep Bea in line? I decided she could. During the dinner when Bea’s talk had become oddly vulgar I felt Laura’s hand on my thigh, getting my attention. Her body gesture told me she wanted help removing the short black jacket.

Thirty seconds later when I took my seat next to her the jacket was on the back of her chair and all eyes at the table were upon Laura. She smiled demurely, her bare shoulders, slender neck and cleavage the center of attention. Bea’s voice was muffled as she finished her story. I felt Laura’s give my thigh a squeeze. It was comforting to think that Laura could handle any situation.

Laura never liked discussing money. I handled the banking. She never looked at our bank statements and showed no interest in account balances. She had not inquired as to which of her pay envelopes I was carrying around in my jacket pocket when I gave her money to pay for her purchases.

But on our drive home from the Waites that night the main topic of conversation was money. We were both excited with Harold Waite’s proposal. In addition to a substantial retainer there were performance bonuses built into her compensation package. Laura was beside herself. Her friend Mollie was slated to receive “retirement pay” from the trust.

“Aren’t you tired?” I asked. It was midnight and we were on our way home. I was excited about what we had heard but Laura was ecstatic. She was actually talking about money.

Laura’s first act as property manage would be to award my company contracts to dismantle the large house and to do repairs on the unoccupied rental property.

“If you’re good to me tonight, I’ll give you every consideration,” she teased. I knew I had the jobs. The contracts were a formality but I played along.

“If I’m real good to you I’ll expect future contracts,” I said as we entered our back door.

“If you’re real good to me……” A cloud had come to her face. She had spotted the answering machine. It was flashing.

We undressed in silence and hung up our clothes. Though I had unplugged the machine the blinking light had dampened the mood. We sat on the bed and I took the combs out of her hair, letting it topple to her shoulders.

For the second night in a row I set the alarm clock, this time for 5 A.M.

“Everything was perfect before I saw that damn machine,” she said when we were in bed. She was wearing her new panties and bra.

“Everything is perfect,” I countered.

“Everything was going to be perfect. I was making big plans and he had to ruin them.”

“Everything is going to be perfect. Forget him. What are your big plans?”

She positioned her body above me. I could feel her breath on my chin and her hair tickle my nose. “I was going to ask you to be my fellow.”

“You mean like your boyfriend?”

“No, my fellow, I’m going to be a good girl and you can be my fellow.”

“Your fellow? What are you saying?”

“I won’t fuck around and I you’re not to fuck around either.”

“Okay, I won’t,” I volunteered without giving it thought.

“What if you’re tempted? What if you have an opportunity that is too good to turn down?”

“I won’t, not if I’m your fellow.”

“Prove it.”

“I said I would be your fellow. What’s to prove?”

“I need for you to prove that you would not stray if you were my fellow. Who would you like to fuck if you could?”

“You.”

“No silly. You’ve fucked me lots of times. Name someone new and it has to be someone I don’t know. It can’t be Sylvia.”

“I can’t think of anyone. This is silly.”

“Sure you can. Give me the first name that pops into your head.” She had lifted her body. I could no longer feel her breath and her hair was no longer tickling me.

It was nearing 1 A.M. “Why are we playing games?”

“It’s not a game. I have to know if I can trust you. Name someone you’ve thought of fucking.”

“Aunt Clarisa,” I blurted out, anxious to prove that I could be trusted.

“Who’s Aunt Clarisa? I don’t know her, do I? Is she cute?”

Why had I said Aunt Clarisa? “She’s Huley’s aunt.”

“Ah, that makes her Pettersen’s sister? Or is she Rosita’s sister?”

“Pettersen’s.”

“Perfect,” Laura said and she was gone. She had gotten out of the bed and left the room. It was ten minutes later before she returned.

“Oh, Randy, fancy meeting you here, do you remember me? I’m Aunt Clarisa.”

She had gotten into bed and moved to my side of the bed, almost within reach.

“Sure, I remember you, Aunt Clarisa.”

“Do you remember how cute I am? I think you’re cute too.”

“I remember, but Aunt Clarisa, you’re married.”

“Let’s not think of that. Let’s put it out of our minds, Randy.”

“I have something to confess. I’m a fellow.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means I have an agreement with a girl. She’s a good girl.”

“I have an agreement with my husband but that doesn’t stop me from wanting to kiss you.”

“Don’t do that. I’m a fellow.”

“Didn’t you like it?”

“You’ve got to stop that, Aunt Clarisa. I’m a fellow.”

“I have a favor to ask you Randy.”

“Sure, anything as long as you stop kissing me.”

“Reach behind me Randy. Unsnap my bra. It’s new and it doesn’t feel right.”

“That wouldn’t be a good idea. What if your husband finds out? What if my girl finds out? She’s a good girl. She wouldn’t like it if she found out. Please stop kissing me like that.”

“Don’t worry, she won’t find out. Can you unsnap my bra?”

“Okay but please stop kissing me Aunt Clarisa.”

“That’s so much better Randy.”

“You’re still doing it. Please stop kissing me Aunt Clarisa.”

“Randy, will you do something for me. Will you rub my tits with your hands? They’ve been inside that new bra all night and they need to be rubbed.”

“Okay, I will but please stop kissing me.”

“That’s nice. Do that some more. Roll the nipples between your fingers.”

“Aunt Clarisa! Is that your hand on my cock? You’ve got to stop kissing me.”

“Randy. Will you do something for me? Pull down my panties. They are new and I don’t want them to be stained.”

“Aunt Clarisa. Please take your hand off of my cock and stop kissing me. Why would your panties be stained?”

“Randy, my panties are new and I don’t want them to be stained from the juice that is running out of my pussy.”

“Okay, I’ll pull your panties down. Please stop kissing me and please stop doing that to my cock.

“Oh, thank you Randy. That feels much better.”

“Aunt Clarisa, what are you doing?”

“Oh, please raise your rump so I can pull your shorts down. Lift, that’s it. Thank you Randy.”

“Aunt Clarisa, please stop doing that to my cock and move your tit away from my lips.”

“Randy, I will do those things if you will feel my pussy. There, that’s it.”

“Aunt Clarisa, is that your mouth on my cock? I don’t think you should be doing….Oh, Aunt Clarisa.”

“That’s not so bad, is it? Keep playing with my pussy. Touch my clit with your thumb. Oh Randy, that’s it, you have it.”

“I think we should stop now. My girl is a good girl. We have an agreement.”

“Is this so bad that you want to stop Randy? Don’t you like the feel of my tongue running around the rim of your cock?”

“It feels very good but we should stop because I have an agreement……oh Aunt Clarisa, are we fucking?”

“Just this once Randy, we’ll only do it once. We won’t tell your girl or my husband. Will that be okay?”

“Oh yes, that will be fine Aunt Clarisa….”

“Did you like that,” Laura asked. She was still on top of me. We were both spent.

“That was perfect,” I said.

“I’m never going to speak to you again. If I wasn’t so frazzled I would beat you senseless.”

“Why? Were you serious? I thought it was a game.” I knew better.

“It wasn’t a game. I told you what I was doing. It was a test and you failed.”

“Can I take the test again? Next time I’ll be prepared. I won’t give in so easily.”

“SO EASILY!” She was beating on me so hard I had to stop laughing. I put a halt to the pounding by clutching her to me. She was breathing hard. I held her until she began to laugh. I laughed with her.

“Was it as good as you thought it would be?” Laura asked, soberly and cautious.

“Better,” I boasted, to which she brought both hands to my head and pulled my hair.

“You gave in to her and then you said she was better than you expected? What does it mean? That you didn’t expect it to be that good but you wanted to fuck her anyway?” Laura was beside herself, pulling my hair, hitting me, laughing and kissing me.

“Give me another chance. I’ll hold out longer next time.”

“I’ll give you a hint. Next time I ask who you would like to fuck don’t say, ‘only you honey,’ and when I ask again don’t think for two seconds and say, ‘Aunt Clarisa, I think I would like to fuck Aunt Clarisa,’ like you hadn’t been thinking it all along.”

Her voice had changed from scolding to a whisper.

“When can I take the test again?”

She didn’t answer. She found the bra and panties and left the room. She was gone for five minutes before she slipped back into bed.

“Randy, fancy meeting you here, it’s Aunt Clarisa, do you remember me?”

We did it exactly the same way. When we finished Laura admonished me for giving in again. I made the same excuses and asked when I could take the test again. She was looking for her bra and panties when I stopped her and said, “Not now.”

“I want to give you every chance to pass the test,” she laughed as I brought her next to me.

We talked about our day and night together and how it would be when she didn’t have to leave me. It was as if a cloud had been lifted from our lives. But we knew there were other clouds and we were putting them out of our minds for the night.

“You’re my fellow,” I heard Laura say as I let sleep take me.

The next thing I knew it was 5 A.M. The alarm was ringing and Laura was stirring.

“I’m not going to wait on you like this when we’re together full time,” she warned. 5 minutes had passed and I was still in bed. She stood over me with a glass of juice. She was brushing her hair, wearing the cut-offs and sweatshirt from the previous day.

“What’s under the shirt?” I asked, taking my first sip of orange juice and becoming interested in the new day.

“I told you I’m not going to wait on you. You’ll have to find out for yourself,” she said, leaning over for me to take a firm hold on the sweatshirt.

The juice and the hairbrush forgotten, we rolled in the bed, laughing, kissing and feeling. “You don’t have to be so gentle, this isn’t Aunt Clarisa,” she said when I was taking too long to unfasten the cut-offs.

“I thought it was a game.”

“I know.”

“I won’t stray.”

“I know.”

The laughing had stopped. We had become serious. She was on her back, gazing up at me. My eyes were fixed upon hers, silently expressing the happiness I felt. She felt it too.

“Don’t open your gifts till I’m there with you,” she said as we parted.