Want Fries With That Blowjob?

From the corner booth, three piece-suited Andrew "The Axe" Culligan glared around the Muncie Chef Supreme. No business, poor location, part-time hours. What a joke. Just another rundown fast-food burger joint, interchangeable with a thousand others littering American highways.

It would be shut down, soon - he'd see to that. He'd earned the title "The Axe." Relished it. 50-ish and portly he might have been, he thought. But he was powerful! Ah, the life of a traveling corporate headhunter was indeed a sweet one.

This one was a family operation, run by a single mother. The only employees were her three daughters and a kid called Scary Phil. Mom had pulled her daughters out of college. Couldn't afford real workers. And Scary Phil probably just needed a little cash to keep up the payments on his piercings.

Average locations had several shifts of workers, not just this paltry four. But Mom had argued four was plenty here, given their spotty business and scant hours.

The Axe had seen more serious operations. More profitable ones, too.

"Gotta cut it loose," his manager had instructed him before he left. "Figures don't lie. The place just isn't bringing in the profits. Besides, with the merger..."

The Axe knew. The impending merger between the increasingly-lowly Chef Supreme chain and the mega Burger-Mart one had meant unprofitable locations had to be shut down.

Mom/Manager Allyson paused at his booth en route to her office. Clipboard in hand. "Let me know if you need anything else." Brrrrr.

He shook his head and watched as she walked away. The neatly-creased, navy blue and pinstriped jacket/skirt business ensemble couldn't hide her curves. And she certainly had some.

A major chest, fantastic ass and big bouffant. Pretty too, in a mature sort of way. But she'd been cold his entire visit. Probably knew the end was near.

Chef Supreme employees' rumors about The Axe's sexual predations were true. Chuckling. Bagging the odd desperate employee was a side benefit. ("Please don't shut us down. I'll do anything!" And they did.)

And that made giving corporate a shut-down recommendation all the sweeter. Those stupid little sluts!

The rumors had, of course, reached corporate. Those boys didn't care. Still, he'd been warned. "This is a family operation," the manager had intoned. "And if it ever comes down to a choice between protecting the chain's good name and letting you go..."

He'd understood. He wouldn't reform, of course. But he'd keep it down low.

Daughters Jenna and Jessie were behind the counter. Jenna, the youngest, had a cute, innocent quality to her. Attractive in a virginal, nubile way. Middle sister Jessie, on the other hand, was a loud flirt. A hooker-in-training. She liked dramatic, colorful makeup, pushup bras and cheap jewelry.

Back at the grill were oldest daughter Jaqueline and the kid they called Scary Phil. She was fairly hot for a small-titted tall chick. And Scary Phil -- The Axe winced -- weird! Rings in his eyebrows, Frankenstein boots, spiked leather wristband, 10-inch green Mohawk. Those two seemed to have a thing going.

All wore the same hideous Chef Supreme uniform, red cotton slacks and matching jacket, yellow plaid designs. White blouses. Topped off with jaunty little berets. Except Phil, of course, who couldn't fit one over his rooster hair.

Banging these naive, cute little chicks would be fun. He snorted. Hell, if he had time, he might even do Mom.

"Listen, I'm going out to my car to finish some paperwork," He rose from the booth and, taking up his gaudy Chef Supreme portfolio, made for the glass doors.

Jenna and Jessie exchanged knowing smiles, continuing to swipe the counter with cloths. Jaqueline and Scary Phil watched from the smoking grill. Allyson pursed her lips and waited until The Axe was outside, then spoke.

"Okay, this is it. Everybody set?"

They were.

"Remember," Allyson looked from one to each other. "We've been here too long to lose it all. Phil?"

He grinned, tapping his camera phone.

Seeking privacy, the Axe swung the car around behind the Chef Supreme, back by the dumpster. He began filling out the report, noting the abysmal location, sparse business and dim prospects. "Shut down recommended," he wrote. What the hell, he added a frowny face at the bottom of the page.

A tap on the passenger side window interrupted him. Jessie.

"Hope I'm not interrupting," she said as she climbed in. "But, um...Mom says you might close us."

"No, no," he lied.

She closed her eyes. "Look, I don't care for me --hell, I want to go back to college -- but Mom's been running this place for five years. What's she going to do?"

Patiently. "Jessie, I'm not recommending a shut down."

"So, I was thinking...Not that it would change your mind, exactly. Just to sort of help things along -" she took a deep breath - "I could suck your dick."

The Axe sat erect. "Jessie! What a suggestion!" He waved the closed portfolio. "I'm not recommending a shut down." He shook his head. "I'm really not."

"No shutdown? We'll stay open?"

"That's right."

She thought for a moment. "Um, but still..."

The Axe harrumphed. "Fine! If you really want to..." Looking around, he unzipped and withdrew himself. "But I'm doing this under protest."

Jessie unbuttoned her work blouse, wriggling it off her shoulders. She jutted out her violet maidenform bra-encased, perky breasts.

Now it was the Axe's turn to stare. He could feel his dick practically bursting. It jerked excitedly, demanding attention.

Jessie bent near it, whispering, "I hope this'll be OK." She looked into his eyes." This'll be my first time for this."

"Oh, please, please..." The Axe felt light-headed.

Curled on the passenger side seat, her legs folded under her, Jessie licked her pink-glossed lips in excruciatingly-arousing slowness. (Why was she taking so long, The Axe wondered.) Her eyelids drooped. She began leaning down.

The Axe's cell phone rang.

"WHAT IS IT?" he shouted, as Jessie drew back.

"This is Jenna," cooed a sexy voice. "Mom and the others are out for awhile, 'til lunch. I'm all alone, here."

The Axe frowned, watching helplessly as Jessie got out and started down the alley.

"And I was thinking," Jenna continued, breathily. "Me all alone in here. You so near. Oh, God, I'm wet just thinking about it!"

His fingers at his zipper, The Axe promised, "I'll be right there!"

Hurrying inside he saw Jenna, her blouse on the floor, kneeling with one shoulder against the shake machine's chrome form. Her little, make up painted head tipped, eyes on him. She was waiting!

He tossed his portfolio onto a booth table and hurried to her. Checking quickly and finding the location empty, The Axe unzipped and pulled it out.

He caressed the back of her head, his fingers entwining the ponytail that extended from beneath her Chef Supreme beret.

"Jenna! Oh, Jenna! We must hurry!" His knees felt a bit weak, his chest tight.

"This is all I've been thinking about since you walked in, this morning." She squatted back on her haunches. "About how big it must be - and it IS!"

It wasn't, he knew. But he let that pass. What did she know?

Jenna supressed a snicker at its smallness. "And how much I want to suck on it, lick it, swirl my tongue around the head..."

"Oh, Lord!" The Axe faltered, grabbing for the shake machine. "Then hurry, girl! Now's your chance! Too much talk!"

"HEY EVERYBODY! WE'RE BACK!" Allyson and Scary Phil paraded through the front entrance.

Jenna crawled around the corner into the food preparation area, dragging her abandoned blouse along. The Axe whirled away from the front, hurriedly re-zipping his suit's slacks.

"No lunch crowd, yet?" Allyson bustled toward her office. "Phil, you and Jenna get things ready for the noon rush."

The Axe watched forlornly as Jenna took Phil's arm and brushed his cheek with her lips - the ones he'd been so near only minutes before! She even winked at The Axe over her shoulder as the two moved toward the food preparation area.

He felt overly-excited, winded. Drawing himself amber lemonade in a styrofoam container, he settled in a back booth and awaited the "lunch rush." This should be very interesting, he laughed to himself.

After 20 minutes, though, The Axe shook his head. Only two patrons had entered the location. A geezer looking for a handout and a chronically-unemployed looking chick for whom $1.00 was too steep for a burger.

Someone hissed. "Hey! Hey!"

The Axe looked around, finally catching sight of Jaqueline leaning out of the back storeroom door. "Hey," she hissed again.

He raised an eyebrow, pointing to his chest.

"Yes, you! C'mere! Hurry!" She opened the door enough for him to see her blouse was open.

To hell with the "lunch rush!" The Axe sped toward the back storage room.

It was dim inside, piled high with boxes. He could just barely see through the stacks to the rear window, the dumpster area where his car sat.

"I don't care what Mom says," Jaqueline announced. "She's not going anywhere! She's been here too long to start over. So, I guess it's up to me to save the place."

The Axe felt his heart rate increase again.

"I'll make you this deal," Jaqueline continued. "If you promise to give us a pass, I'll give you a blowjob you'll never forget! Hmm?" She dropped to one knee.

The Axe slumped against the storeroom wall. Dizzy.

Jaqueline recited her plan, ticking it off on her fingers. "First I'll unzip you, then I'll get it out -- Is it big? Ooh, I'll bet it is! -- Then, I'll lick it, slowly up one side and down the other." She moved her head as she spoke. The Axe did too.

"Go on," he stammered. "Go on!" He slumped on a crate, woozy.

"And then," she suddenly stopped and looked him in the eye. "Have you ever seen that old movie, 'Deep Throat.'"

Faint, he nodded, brows raised questioningly.

"Uh huh!" Jaqueline smiled. "Exactly!" Then she paused.

Her beeper sounded.

"Oh, my God," she exclaimed. She leapt to her feet. "The lunch rush!" And she was out the door.

The Axe fell back on his crate-seat and cursed Chef Supreme.

Exiting the storeroom, The Axe saw that the "lunch rush" had swelled to a whopping five. Can't keep a place open with just that, he snorted to himself. His knees threatened to give way.

Allyson bustled up to him. "We have to talk. I'm afraid I got some bad news from the bank."

He followed her down the hall to her office, wobbling unsteadily.

Allyson closed the office door and turned to face Andrew. "I know you're planning to shut us down."

"No, no. I'm recommending that they NOT shut you down!" It was a lie, of course. But so what? Dumb bitch.

She sat behind her desk. "Anyway, I've been expecting this for quite some time. I'd arranged for a loan through the bank, but now that's been rejected..." She lowered her voice to a whisper. "Tell me what I can do to change your mind."

He eased back in his seat. Her, now, too? He absently felt his pulse. Heart beat rapid and climbing. His legs felt like spaghetti. Stomach churning.

He straightened in his chair. Just thinking about it made him weak. His chest pounded, felt sore. For the first time, The Axe was scared of blowjobs.

"Believe me," he tried to put Allyson off. "My say-so carries a lot of weight with the corporate boys. You are not closing!"

Rising from her swivel chair, Allyson slipped off her business jacket and began unbuttoning her blouse. "I'm not questioning your importance to the company. This will just add something for you to consider..."

"Really, please, really," The Axe raised his hands. "This is not at all called for!"

Allyson unhooked her white bra. Her milky breasts tumbled out. "Look at these, Andrew. Touch them." She lifted them toward him. He stared as the nipples stiffened, seemingly calling to him.

She fell into his lap. He shrank back. Blood pounding in his ears. Feebly, he grabbed at the chair's arms, fearing he'd fall to the floor. He couldn't have a heart attack here - not with a half-dressed woman!

"Help," The Axe whimpered to no one in particular. For some reason, he tasted copper.

A knock at the door. "Mom?" It was Jessie.

They froze.

"The Main Office is calling for Mr Culligan. They're on the kitchen phone."

"Tell them I'll be right with them!" The Axe nearly hollered, scrambling from certain death-by-blowjob.

Jenna, Jessie, Jaqueline and Phil occupied a booth, a laptop before them on the table.

"Hello? Hello?" The Axe shouted into the receiver of a dead phone. "Nobody here!" He looked to the booth. All were smiling, watching him. Allyson slid in beside Jessie.

"Hey, what's going on here?" He stormed over to their booth. And then he saw the laptop's screen.

A series of photos: He and Jessie through the car winshield. He and Jenna at the shake machine. He and Jaqueline in the dim storage room.

"Just a sec, it's coming up, now," Phil said. And a new photo of The Axe and a topless Allyson appeared, joining the others.

He slumped. Sexual harrassment. This would mean his job, for sure. The Axe himself - axed. He fumbled for his blood pressure pills in a jacket pocket.

"We don't want to report this," Allyson said. The rest shook their heads, piously.

"But Phil has his finger on the 'send' button. One click, and -" she snapped her fingers. "- off to corporate they go." Phil nodded cooly.

The Axe imagined the news spreading up and down the Chef Supreme chain. How the old pervert had finally gotten his. Oh, they'd be laughing - probably throwing parties!

"Or-" Allyson held Phil's camera phone toward The Axe,"- you can call them right now and recommend we stay open. The choice is yours."

Oh, God, how he hated them! Teases! Sluts! Whores! How could they blackmail him? A respected businessman, a churchgoer, a grandfather?

A thought occured to him. "And if I tell the truth when I get back to corporate? If they DO shut you down?"

Allyson shook her head. "Oh, you won't do that." She gestured to the laptop. "We'll still have these."

Glaring balefully at one and all, he took the camera phone and dialed.

"Hello. This is The Axe. Give me somebody in the front office." He paused, then spoke again. "Yeah, Mitch? Listen, I'm still at the Muncie location. Turns out, um" he glanced through the window, eyes settling on the highway. "Turns out there's an, uh, mini-mall going up. Yeah, yeah. New business. Things are picking up. So, I'm recommending we keep this one? Huh? We will? Good! Good! Okay, bye."

He tossed the camera phone across the table toward Phil. "I hope you choke - all of you! Sluts!" He bolted the booth, storming toward the glass doors.

Around the booth table there was much laughter, much high-fiving.

Muttering, The Axe wheeled out of the parking lot and lost no time leaving the city's limits behind him.

Back in Chef Supreme, though, all were in fine spirits.

"Men are so easy to manipulate," Jaqueline laughed. "They think with their dicks!"

"Hey!" Phil pretended to take offense.

"Okay, present company excluded," Jaqueline added.

But when she rose and made for the storeroom, swinging her hips teasingly, Phil automatically followed.