Roomers Ch. 07

Old theme, new treatment, I hope. You need the earlier chapters or you'll get confused. (Best to start with number one, but that's just a personal view). Please remember to vote. I respond to non-anonymous feedback. Satyricon.

Just for a change, I wasn't staring outa my window. I was wondering how the hell I'd spent so much fuckin' money. The cost of fixin' the room Susan wrecked was plenty more than the goddam deposit, I was out four months rent and I'd dropped near fifteen hundred bucks getting even with her. I looked at the screen again, but the figures stayed ugly so I pushed the laptop away. Time for beer number one. As if by magic there was a knock.

'If you're good company, c'mon in.' Candice's head popped round.

'The best,' she said, and smiled. She looked so good that I gave her one right back.

'The very fuckin' best. You wanna beer? It's way past noon.' She looked down at me and her smile widened.

'Yassuh, Massa Doug. I know where the fridge is. Two beers, right?' She came back with the necessaries and plumped down in the armchair opposite me.

'I need to talk about a couple of things if you've got a few minutes.' I hitched up straighter and put the beer on the coffee table.

'For you, Candice, the rest of my life. Whaddya need?'

'Uh, what happens in the summer? I've just realized that everyone's talking about leaving, and the contract you gave me runs to the end of this month. Do I have to start looking for somewhere?

'You're gonna be here all summer? I thought teachers got vacations.' She snorted.

'Teachers do, assistants don't. I'm gonna have to be a full time library rat this summer. What I want to do is carry on living here, and if I have to go someplace else I'll curse and swear and carry on, stamp my feet maybe.'

'Shit, Candice, if you can stand the smell of paint. Jose's gonna be decorating in between his regular work, and it'll be a kinda slow process. You'd hafta camp in one of the other rooms while he did yours. You serious 'bout wantin' to stay?' She stared.

'Of course I am. You want me to leave?'

'Hell, girl, no fuckin' way. I'm happy if you are. Make the figures look better too. Last coupla months there's a hole in the accounts.' Her eyes dropped.

'I feel sorta bad about that.' Gaah.

'Water under the fuckin' bridge, Candice, and worth every cent.' It was hard saying that, but it made her look happier. 'Rachel tell you that little Miss Dykehater's transferred?' She nodded.

'She told me, and I'm kinda glad. OK, that's really great, so thank you, but there's one more thing.' She looked kinda embarrassed. 'You held me while I cried, and you made me feel safe, like a little girl being comforted, and you never came even close to copping a feel, and you've not said anything to me or to anyone else. It's like it never happened. The next day was just "Hi Candice, howya feeling, you wanna coffee?", and that was it. And I'm kinda curious. Most guys would have followed up, dyke or no dyke.' Faint click, outa nowhere. Way to go, Doug. Welcome to the summer.

'Candice, you needed holdin' for one night, not ongoing fuckin' therapy. As for talkin' about it to anyone else, Jesus Christ, girl, what the hell do you think I am?' She looked at me and her eyes glowed with somethin' that set my spine tingling. Her hair was out of its rows and was floating round her head like a dark halo.

'Damned if I know,' she said finally. 'You're too laid-back and you swear way too much, and you don't give much of a damn about anything, but you're smart and you gotta capacity to surprise; I mean when something pushes your buttons you're different. I may have been upset that day, but I watched you when you saw what had happened, and it was pretty impressive.' Her eyes dropped for a second then she took a deep breath and looked up again. 'I told Ellen about what you did for me and she said that now I'd understand why she liked you. I know about your relationship with her, and I know she told you about her and me, and you've never even hinted, not once, that you know about us, and Ellen says you never mentioned that night to her.' Fuckin' girl-talk. It's like the goddam axis of drivel.

'Shit, Candice, Ellen and I have a history, and we're friends I guess, with privileges, so if she says something about her personal life to me that's where it fuckin' stays. And I guess you and her are friends with privileges too, so you tell her stuff, and I bet you twenty bucks she hasn't repeated it. Not to me, that's for sure. Privilege goes with respect or everythin' goes south.' She thought about that some, and I drank beer and realized that the fuckin' summer was gonna turn out a sight more fun than I hoped. Day at a time. The smarter they are, the slower you go. Noble Doug. Just enough gym-time, just enough brainwork: result, first Ellen and now her. Susan out of the picture, but hell, two outa three is good for an erratic talent that I've learned to handle with care.

'What if you and I were friends with privileges as well?' she asked. 'Would everyone be able to talk with everyone?'

'Jeez, Candice, what do I know? Local call, I guess. I never had a whole circle of friends with privileges. Sounds like a clusterfuck to me.' She stood up and came and leaned over me. She was wearing summer clothes, white like always, contrasting with her dark skin, and I could see the outline of her breasts through the thin material. No bra, not really necessary, but I never been a size fetishist. Shit I'd rather have Annie and her flea bites than a D cup bimbo every time; after the first, that is. Candice knelt down and put a hand each side of my face, like she had before, and kissed me. That wasn't like before though: it was the whole fuckin' ball of wax with whistles and bells. She straightened up.

'Friendship part's there already, far as I'm concerned. We'll see about the rest.' She went before I could answer but I heard her humming as she went upstairs. I got up and went to my place in the window, real glad that I didn't want anything bad enough to risk hurting her.

Course, the first thing hadta happen after that night with Kelly was to get her the hell out of the apartment. Trustworthy Doug is one thing, live-in sex toy is another. Way too tiring. That weekend I sat her down in her armchair and gave her a scotch.

'Kelly, what you said the other day was right. It's time to move out. We wanna practice bein' friends with privileges you gotta have a home base. Livin' together is way too risky. I know you done it before, but I never tried, never even thought about it, tell the truth, and I'm not an impetuous guy.' She came sat on the couch, gave me a kiss.

'You're wise beyond your years, Doug.' I managed not to smile and she went on. 'I'm going to find an apartment and we can work at this together. Will you help me choose a car?' Didn't like the way she used the words 'work' and 'together'.

'What kinda car you got in mind?' She thought for a minute.

'I've always wanted a red one.'

Gee, that narrows the field down some.'

Shit, I was glad to have her outa the place, tell the truth. I never been one for waking up with the same person day after day. She was a real surprise though. Look at her, and you'd say nice girl, poised, cultured, way upscale, but after dark, hell, the change was one hundred eighty fuckin' degrees. I mean, she liked to warm up some beforehand, romantic kissy-face and stuff, but second time round she was wetter than Seattle in winter and dirtier than a bucket of dogshit. Only woman I ever met who genuinely liked it in the ass, suggested it even, though if you mentioned it to her before or after she'd blush and change the subject. Not that we did that too much. Screwin' about with lubricant and stuff, all those preparations, always seems kinda contrived to me. Still, I was like a kid in a toyshop for a while, explorin' her and all. The best part about fresh pussy is the findin' out. For a while there I almost wished she hadn't moved; didn't much enjoy payin' all the rent myself either.

Annie knew straight away. Jeez, considering how much grass that woman used she was real sharp. Coupla weeks later I was lying on her bed, her nestled in the crook of my arm, the way she liked, when she reached down and tugged my cock.

'Workin' out a little more with this, ain't you Doug?' No point in trying to bullshit her, and besides, I didn't really want to. I sometimes wonder what I'da done if she ever got in the way of something the talent was workin' on. That woulda been a for sure difficult call.

'Hell, Annie, how d'ya do it?' She yanked my dick again.

'How long we known each other, Doug? I like you a lot, too much maybe, and you like me some too, but I ain't ever gonna stand in the way of something you want. Rather stand in front of a fuckin' bulldozer. That poor girl works with you, you got somethin' going on in your head, you're someplace where there's a helluva lot of money flyin' about, you're goin' to the gym real regular, and you only do that when you want something bad, and now you're screwin' her ass off: Shit, I feel kinda sorry for her, tell the truth. She seemed pretty nice that time I visited. Gonna be good to come round to your apartment again though: nothin' wrong with a change of scenery.' She stretched against me and wriggled. 'You gonna lie there looking like a goddam codfish or are we gonna fuck?' Shit, no contest. She knew what I was and didn't care, and she fucked like a dream. I didn't mind her bein' just skin and bone either: hell, I kinda liked it by now. I scooped her up and set her on my chest, smelled the urgent scent rising from her.

'Top or bottom, you choose.' She laughed in that good way she had.

'You tryin' to turn my head?'

One thing led to another and we managed both: one of the advantages of light girls. What she'd said made me think some though and if the live one hadn't crossed my desk that week I mighta thought again. McCarthy was right: smelling real money for the first time kinda focuses you. All the gym time and the brain time and the wanting were in synch and I was as sharp as I've ever been. Kinda frightening, looking back at it.

It looked good the minute I saw it. Fuckin' great click in my head. American Exchange, way undervalued, overextended, dumb but ambitious management, thrashing about some, trying to expand in all directions at once, hurtin' for capital that the banks weren't gonna come up with. I worked up the figures, gave them to Kelly.

'The parts alone are worth thirty percent over book-value. Kelly. Buy it, break it, sell it, count the cash.' She ran an eye over what I'd done and talked to McCarthy that afternoon. Came out with a sparkle in her eye that made my heart-rate turn up a notch. Kept my head down, got on with my chores. I hadn't been home ten minutes when she called.

'It's exactly the sort of thing Mr. McCarthy likes, and he loves being a white knight. He wants to...' I cut her off. Click.

'You want my famous spaghetti mess and some wine while you tell me? Hadta leave the office in a hurry so the old biddies didn't see me huggin' you.'

'I'm going to shower first, just to save time.' The phone went dead and I smiled and went to fix the pasta. I had the table set up with candles and all by the time she arrived, wasn't surprised when she left half of it and stood up. She came round the table and kissed me hard enough for me to know that she was simmerin' already. She was wearing shorts and a T-shirt and the beginnings of a tan, and when she reached round and pulled the T-shirt over her head I blinked. No bra and pinky lookin' tits.

'You been sunbathin' topless, you shameless fuckin' Jezebel? She nodded and whipped the shorts down. Shit, no panties either; she did a twirl, then bent and pulled herself open, little ass-ring winkin' above a shiny swollen pussy.

'Bottomless too, and if you want me to tell you what Mr. McCarthy said you're going to have to give me your considered opinion on the tanning process first.' I stood up and grabbed her, twistin' her round and bending her over the table. Her sore breasts slipped over her half-finished plate and she squealed as the warm sauce spread over them, but I kept one hand on her neck while I pulled my sweats down with the other. Shit, I'd been hard since I served the fuckin' spaghetti, and I slid straight and fast and deep into her drippin' pussy. Her hands flew out and clawed at the cloth and I felt a stab of worry in case the glassware got damaged. Better not to mention that though, so I took hold of her hips and heaved in again. The sauce spread over the table-cloth as I got my rhythm, and as she began to respond and thrust back against me her breasts smeared the sticky mess around. She was completely ready and I could feel her beginning to tense, but a quickie wasn't the best move here. I kept it hard but slowed the tempo, the table shakin' every time I drove into her.

'Now, please, right now...' she muttered, then yelped and thrashed about some as I reached under her and pinched one tomato covered nipple. I scooped some sauce up on my fingertips and smeared it over her asshole and the yelping turned into a guttural moan of pleasure as she tried to force herself back. There ain't much you can do though, not when you're bent over a table with your tits covered in spaghetti sauce and a pretty fit guy reaming you from behind, and I took no notice, kept right on pumpin', takin' her to the edge and no fuckin' further. The moaning turned to whimpering, and I pressed my thumb gently against her ring just to tip her a little. Shit, she came straight away, shaking under me like a plate of Jell-O, sauce everywhere as she tried to get more. I held her steady and when she'd quietened some I started again, feelin' kinda mean, but enjoyin' myself just the same. Same slow trip, same pressure building, and I managed to hold myself till she was bucking and squirming again. Then I gave her ass another load of spaghetti sauce and pushed my thumb into it hard, twisting and rolling it round as I buried my cock in her one last time, cum flooding outa me in a warm wave, mixin' with the sauce that had dribbled down her slit.

I swear her feet left the floor as she came the second time, and if I hadn't had my thumb hooked in her ass she mighta escaped and scooted clear across the table. She was making noises like a locomotive and I held her firm and stayed rammed balls-deep inside her while she calmed. When she was still I lifted her, turning her round and holding her trembling body tight. That was another T-shirt gonna go to Goodwill, but small price to pay. I nuzzled her neck the way she liked and growled in her ear.

'The ass is tanned real well, but the tits are kinda red. You want me to clean them off?' Her arms tightened round me and she nibbled at my shoulder so I eased my sweats off from round my ankles and carried her through to the bathroom. Shower fun is always good, and sure enough, I got a thank you BJ before we were through. There was a lot of huggin' and squeezin' and mumbling about how spontaneous I was, but I put up with that, and when we were stretched on the couch, her smooth body firm against mine, scotch on the table in front of us, I slid us back to the important stuff.

Hell, it sounded great. McCarthy was gonna take a position, build it, ride the shares up way carefully, makin' sure they didn't take off, express an interest to the dumb-ass management and then drop the hammer.

'About a year to payback, Doug,' she said as she sipped scotch and stroked my cock with her free hand, 'and there'll be a nice bonus for you and me both. There's a hell of a lot of money in there waiting to be harvested, twenty million net maybe if it goes right. How did you spot it? Mr. McCarthy was impressed with that.' I shrugged and concentrated on her sore tits for a while, and it was a while before the conversation got coherent again. Then while she was panting and recovering I found out that she was gonna be the one handling the day to day stock purchase and controlling the rate. A step up for her too, and she was real excited about it and it was all thanks to me. Bingo. The extra extra stuff I'd slipped into her program was finally gonna be useful. Clicks work in a mysterious way and they don't give a rat's ass for anyone except me.

Shit, I hafta say that remembering that time is kinda sweet and sour. Sweet for the excitement of making money, sweet for Kelly givin' me everything she could think of, sweet for the time I spent with Annie relaxin' and enjoying no questions and no strings screwing. Sour for the knowledge that I was usin' Kelly, sour for the tension that she'd suspect something before it was ready, sour for the amount of fuckin' gym time and brain-bending I hadta to do, sour knowin' that the hurt was gonna arrive. Sour didn't do anything to change my mind though, and the sweet was pretty goddam sweet.

The trigger in her program fed me the trades she was planning and it was easy to open a brokerage account and shadow them. I used what was left of McCarthy's thank you money, took it easy, never made like a big player, but I was able to buy when it slipped and sell on the bounce, and by Christmas I'd turned six thousand into sixty and was still going. Cautious Doug. Hell, I was still learning, but tailgatin's an easy skill.

I got a little bolder in the spring, upped the volume I was trading, and the sixty was nearly half a million when I pulled out and moved the money into government paper, closed my account. Here's a word of advice. Never hang in for the last cent. Eighty percent of a sure deal is always better than getting burned going for everything. Ask them dot com boys: a little less greed and a tad more bailin' out woulda saved their sad asses. I knew she'd reached the point where McCarthy was gonna hafta make his next move soon. Hell, he was happy. Her buyin' and sellin' and then buyin' back meant he had thirty million dollars worth of stock and it had cost him less than half that. I stayed bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, anxious to learn.

Annie knew somethin' was happening. Hippies gotta strong sense of self-interest, I guess.

'Ya know what I like best?' she said one day. She was curled in the crook of my arm like always.

'Tell me what you like best,' I said lazily. I was playing with her nipples, circling them with my fingers and they were reacting real positive.

'What I like best is when stuff's goin' good for you. Hell, you're always fun, but when you're feeling good, you're way fun. Last few months have been fuckin' ace, Doug. Promise you'll warn me when it's gonna stop. There's a tiny part of you that ain't selfish, stops you bein' a real bastard, and I don't want you ta feel that I won't be here when you hurt a bit. Hell, you heal quick enough, but a gal likes ta be needed.' I rolled over and pinned her, then slipped gently into her as she raised her legs and hips to meet me. She sighed happily and bit my neck hard as my cock stretched her.

'I'll take that as a yes, huh?'

Kelly was a different story. She was happy as a clam, excited 'bout what she was doing, plannin' how to spend her bonus. Trouble was she kept calling it "our bonus". Be careful when a woman starts saying that. It means there's all sorts of stuff goin' through her head, and none of it likely to make you feel good. She was getting kinda possessive too. Hell, not her fault I guess: she was the sorta person who likes the idea of bein' settled, bein' a couple, kinda like Judy was. I tried to slow her down some.

It was a Sunday afternoon in May and we were at her place. We'd been hot and energetic and dirty, and were laying on top of the covers letting the sweat dry on us. She tightened her arms round my neck and pressed herself against me.

'Confession time, Doug. I think I'm falling in love with you. From the moment you took over and helped me get over Carl actually. No-one's ever cared about me that way, and no-one's ever made love to me like you do, and I've never felt this way about anyone.' Well, fuck that.