5.) Jennifer, Kendra's Conundrum.

A quick message for those leaving comments on my works. Please be courteous to other commenters. If you see something that is absolutely ignorant, please feel free to point it out, and factually correct the ignorance. I'm a big believer in calling out ignorance and shaming those who feel that putting in the minimum effort after third grade, is a good life choice. At the same time, I don't want people threatening each other. But change does not come from silence, and for that reason, I will never delete any comments made on my works, unless it is absolutely horrific, or violates the Literotica guidelines.

Also, I wanted to say, that I value everyone's opinion. Even those whose opinions are exactly opposite of my own. I cannot take a perspective from the other direction unless I am able to put myself in another person's shoes. In addition, many comments have made me realize that there is a good amount of inaccuracy in the way other people think. Specifically, one's own experiences determine what is possible. I find it funny that some limit their ideas and imagination to what they have experienced themselves. In doing so, I share this. It is impossible to get high off of secondhand smoke. As a child, my mother used to smoke weed while I and my siblings were in the car. So based on my own experiences, it is impossible. Now I KNOW this is not factual, but it is entirely too entertaining, and I have now decided to add this persona to a certain character in my Abraxsis series. Thank you.

And now, back to the show....

I awoke to a knocking at the front door, which was entirely unexpected. Looking right and left, I took inventory of the two bodies and their soft warm skin and wondered if it wouldn't be proper to just let the door go unanswered. I looked at my watch and saw it was seven a.m., much too early for a social call so I worried it might be something official. Maybe a bus had crashed, or there was a murderer on the loose.

I heard the knocking once again and Gently crawled out of bed, leaving Jennifer and Mackenzie where they slept. I grabbed the flashlight, used it to light a candle, and then I hurried to throw on underwear, and a bathrobe, and then went to the front door. I looked out the window to see several lights shining back in at me. Cops. Most likely, Brody. I made sure the chain was in place and then opened the door only to see my suspicions were correct.

"Hey, Rick. Can I come inside?" Brody asked, clicking his flashlight off and slipping it into his belt. It was dark, but not pitch black. More of a muted dark blue, and I knew the sun was going to be coming up any minute.

"Depends on what the reason is," I said, wiping the sleep from my eyes.

"We need to talk about the girl."

"Mackenzie?" I asked.

"Yeah," Brody said. "I think you're going to want to hear this."

I sucked in a deep breath and blew it out, noting the gigantic billow of steam that followed, and I knew it was a lot colder outside than it was inside. "You have anybody with you?"

"Yassenia...she can wait in the cruiser," Brody said.

"Alright. Fine. But the first hint of bullshit, and I'm gonna ask you to leave."

"As usual," Brody said, and I opened the door for him to come inside and then closed it behind him. As I walked around the table, I noticed Brody's eyes were everywhere, searching, probing, cataloging. The guy was nosy from the words "find it" and I thought the only thing missing right now, was a K-9 unit, sniffing around the table legs for any indication of illicit substances.

"Have a seat," I said, walking over to the coffee pot and then sighing. I set the candle down and turned back to Brody. "Power's still out. If you want coffee, I'll have to go throw some on the fire."

"Water, soda, anything is fine," Brody said, still not sitting.

I went to the fridge, pulled two grape sodas out, and then put one back. I thought I remembered something about Brody not liking grape. I grabbed him an orange and closed the fridge.

I sat down pushed the orange soda across the table, and then opened my grape and took a swig. It was still ice cold. I motioned to Brody with my bottle. "So, what's up?"

Brody finally pulled a seat out, and sat down, and then glanced toward the doorway before looking back to me. "Where is she at?"

"Sleeping," I said. "I'll give you a warning."

"You'll give me a warning?" Brody asked as if he couldn't believe what I'd just said.

"Yeah. My house. You gotta learn some social skills bro. You're not always right, and you're definitely not in charge. Not here, and not now."

Brody shook his head and touched the bottle with his fingertips, but he didn't open it. He didn't want to waste a soda if he wasn't going to be here much longer, which meant, he already knew what he was going to tell me, would piss me right the fuck off.

"Tell me what you came to say," I said, taking another swig.

"There's been a lot of strange inquiries going on," Brody said. "People asking for records, financial papers, tax documents."

"About who?" I asked. I sat up. "If this is about Jennifer's foot thing, I can assure you it's all legit," I said, even though I couldn't be sure. Jennifer had said that the place was now closed down and she wasn't making money off of it anymore.

"No, not Jennifer. About... her."

"Mackenzie," I replied. "What about her? What tax documents?"

"She's wanted for tax evasion, failure to file, failure to pay, the whole thing."

"She doesn't have a job. How can she pay taxes? Why would she?"

"I don't know," Brody said. "I got a visit from the IRS, special crimes unit." Brody reached into his jacket and pulled a business card out of it. He handed it to me and I took a glance at it before setting it on the table. It looked official, but scammer bullshit often looked official.

"So how much does she owe?" I asked.

"I don't know. The guy wouldn't tell me. Basically, he said he needed to find her, and he was going to arrest her and charge her. He asked a lot of questions, and I played along. I told him I knew of her but didn't know where she was."

"You...lied?" I asked, truly shocked.

"Yeah. I can bend the truth from time to time. I wasn't lying. I just didn't tell him everything."

"How is that not illegal?" I asked.

Brody folded his arms across his chest. "I decided telling him additional information might lead to him interfering with my investigation. So I told him what he needed to know, so I could get additional information, and so he would stop hounding me."

"I see."

"I think it might be best if she...stays indoors for a while."

"How long is a while?" I asked, knowing she didn't like being cooped up in the house for very long.

"Couple months maybe."

I shook my head. There was a zero in a million chance that Mackenzie was going to stay put for that long. "I can let her know. Try and keep her...quiet."

Brody nodded. "I'm pretty sure she's been cleared for Reggie's death. The coroner says it was exposure."

"He probably froze to death," I said.

"She," Brody said. "And yeah, she most likely froze to death."

"Do you guys go around rounding up people before a snowstorm so they don't die?"

"Wish we had the resources," Brody said in a way too calm manner. "But they know if they ever need a place to stay, they can come down to the station."

"You'd lock 'em up?" I asked.

"Yup. To keep them from freezing to death, I sure would." Brody said. "But you know the taxpayers don't like spending money on those sorts of things. Every time I say we need blankets, or food vouchers, or money for the food pantry, someone complains."

I nodded but said nothing. There was always some reason why the local government needed more money and wanted to raise taxes, and every time the locals voted for a tax increase, the critical things that were brought us as reasons for the tax increase, never got taken care of. Instead, some asshole ended up with a pay raise and more paid time off.

"You should start a donation box," I said flatly.

"Yeah. You should come down to the station and donate to the donation box. It's been there since a week after I took over."

I took another swig of my soda, realizing that, maybe Brody wasn't as much of an asshole as I thought. Or maybe he was, but he had a few good things to say about him as well.

Brody turned and looked through the doorway toward my room and the bathroom, and his eyes opened wider. He turned back to me, a concerned look on his face. "I...I'm not gonna try and tell you how to live your life," Brody said.

"Good," I said, setting my soda down. "Stop right there then."

"You're making a big mistake," Brody said, pushing his chair out from the table.

"Ooop! Oh shit!" Jennifer said, slapping a hand over her tits and another between her legs, turning around and running toward her room.

"Jennifer? What the fuck is going on?" Brody demanded, standing up swiftly.

"What are you talking about?" I asked, taking another swig of my soda.

"She...they're naked," Brody said, and then his tone grew much more serious. "And number two, they just came out of your room. Why are they naked, and in your room, Rick?"

"Number one, none of your fucking business," I said and then I continued. "My room is the only one with a king-size bed. And it stays warm all night long."

"No kidding. They're naked!" Brody said accusingly.

"Oh no! How do you sleep?"

Brody gave me a condescending look which morphed into an incredulous, discerning look. "I don't sleep with my own daughter's."

"Neither do I," I lied and I stood up as well. "When the power goes out, they sleep in my room. I sleep in the front room. That way the fire stays going and the house doesn't burn down."

Brody didn't look convinced.

"And what Jennifer does with her friend, and whether they sleep naked together, is none of our fucking business."

Brody's jaw unclenched, but his jaw didn't drop. It was enough though. He hadn't taken into consideration that...Jennifer might not be as straight and narrow, as he once thought.

"Yeah. She's...," I paused, not wanting to use any term that might not be flattering. "They're a couple. So, we're all just going to have to deal with that." I slid my chair back onto the table, picked up my bottle of soda, and downed it. "I think it's time for you to go."

Brody nodded and then tipped his head. "Yeah, I agree."

"You can take the soda," I said, my last offer of generosity.

"Put it back in the fridge," Brody said. "Guess you haven't forgotten how I absolutely detest orange flavoring."

"Oh. No, I thought you didn't like grapes," I said, now feeling a bit like an asshole. "I'll get you a grape one."

"Don't bother," Brody said, stepping to the door and opening it. "Save it for next time. I'm sure I'll be back soon."

"Yeah," I said, taking the orange soda off the table. "I'm sure you will too." Brody left and closed the door behind himself and I was up in a flash, locking and chaining it behind him. Satisfied, I went to the fridge to put away the orange sods, just as Mack walked back into the dining room.

"What the fuck was he doing here?" Mackenzie asked.

I glanced over at her and admired the way the candlelight flickered across her nakedness, her plump tits hung heavily over a lithe sensuous body. She turned and gave me a curious look.

"Same as usual," I said, leaning over to peer out the window and make sure Brody was gone. "He said someone from the IRS is looking for you."

"What's the IRS?"

"Don't tell me you've never heard of the IRS. The Internal Revenue Service? You file taxes and get a tax return?"

"I don't," Mackenzie said in an offhanded manner.

"You've never had a job before?" I asked.

"Mmmm, nothing serious," She said, pulling out the same chair Brody had been sitting in, and dropping into it. She crossed her legs and ran her hands up and down them, as if considering the air temperature, and whether she wanted to go put some clothes on, or not.

"So, no," I said, filling it in for her. "Well, when you have a job, a real job, you have to pay taxes. Every paycheck they take a little out. Or a lot. Anyway. At the end of the year, you have to file a return and you might get some of the money you paid in, back."

"Why?" Mackenzie asked.

"Why what?"

"Why do you pay taxes?"

"Because you have to," I said, shaking my head.

"Says who?" She smiled.

"Says the government," I replied.

"Taxes are dumb," Mackenzie said then, uncrossing her legs and leaning back in the chair. She draped her head over the edge and continued upwards. "You wanna know what I think?" She asked, leaning as far back as she could go, stretching like a feline.

"What?" I asked.

"I could really use your tongue right now." She said, whipping back upright.

"My tongue?" I asked.

"Yeah," She said, slapping the armrests. She pulled her legs up then, reached inside her thighs, and hooked her knees over the armrests. "Right here," she purred, her fingers gently spreading her sex open and then stroking her slit from bottom to top.

"Are you getting ready for work?" Jennifer asked as she came into the dining room, already dressed in panties and a bra.

"Nope," Mackenzie said, continuing to stroke herself.

"Not yet," I said, pulling myself away from the sight of Mackenzie's inviting pussy.

"Come on. There's plenty of time for fucking around when we get home," Jennifer said, turning around.

"Where are you going?" Mackenzie asked Jennifer.

"I'm going to go and try and salvage my job. What's left of it anyway."

"So I'm going to be home all alone?" Mackenzie whined.

"You'll be fine," Jennifer said, pulling a shirt on over her head. "Plus, we bought all that stuff yesterday. Try a few things out. Let me know how they work."

"I will," Mackenzie said and Jennifer leaned over and they kissed for a long, tender moment.

"I'm gonna go get dressed," I said, and I got up and went to my room. By the time I got back, Mackenzie was gone, and Jennifer was standing at the door, fully dressed.

"Okay, we're leaving!" Jennifer called out and Mackenzie appeared from the laundry room, running over to give both of us a quick kiss before we left, and then she hurried back to the laundry room. We left without another word and then resumed our conversation outside.

"Did you show her how to run the laundry machine without power?" I asked, walking to the truck.

"Yeah," Jennifer said, "but I didn't tell her once it gets up to speed you can let it spin."

"So she'll be cranking it all day long?" I asked, opening the door.

"Nah. She'll get tired," Jennifer laughed and she opened her car door and slid behind the wheel.

I chuckled at that as I opened the truck door and climbed inside. "I'll see ya after work," I called out.

"I'll call you," Jennifer called back, and she turned the car over and the engine fired up like a hot rod.

I nodded and then closed my door, smiling at my own ignorance. A couple of years ago, Jennifer's car had a hard time starting up in the cold. We spent an entire winter popping the hood and spraying starting fluid into the carburetor before it would turn over. When spring came, we discussed getting the car fixed but never had. Last winter, I thought nothing of it when the car no longer had the same issues. It started up every time. And I just thought it had worked itself out. I had no clue Jennifer had gone and gotten the car fixed.

I watched as she pulled out onto the road, and as I backed out of the drive I saw the light on the garage blink on. I blinked just to make sure my eyes weren't playing tricks on me and then continued to pull out onto the road. The electricity was back on, which was a good thing because, if I drove in to work, just to find the power was still out, I would have been a bit pissed.

Driving to work turned out to be very anti-climactic. There were no accidents, no emergency vehicles, and the radio stations were playing my favorite tunes. The sun was coming up and the sky was bright with blues and yellows and every cloud had a silver lining. I sucked in a deep breath and let all my worries and stress melt away, and soon I was on the final strip through town, heading into work. Not many other people were thinking the same thing, and the streets were almost barren, save for the local coffee shop, and the gas station.

As I pulled into the machine shop's parking lot, I noticed there were more than a few empty spots, but when I got out and went inside, I found the whole place lit up and ready to go. A few people had already started their day, firing up their equipment and turning a few pieces. I decided a more relaxed approach was in order, and I took my time to walk around and say hi to everyone before punching in.

"Kendra will be back in a little while," Jeff, one of the new hires, said as I was walking by.

"Oh, okay," I said, nodding.

"You're in charge."

I turned back to Jeff shaking my head. "I might be the senior guy here, but I'm not in charge."

"No, that's what Kendra said," Jeff reiterated.

"Wait, she said that?"

"Yeah. She's in the right mood today too. She said, 'I'm going somewhere for a few minutes. While I'm gone, if anything happens, tell Rick. He's in charge."

"I wasn't even here yet," I said in my defense.

"Well, that's what she said. She left right before you pulled in."

"I wonder how she knew I was coming in?" I said, shrugging.

"Heh. Yeah, right. The boss says come in. Every other motherfucker -oh, sorry. Excuse my French- Every other guy could not show up. You'd be here."

"Would I?" I said and Jeff smirked, nodding. "I...guess I would."

"Hey, nothing wrong with a strong work ethic. If I was making bank, I'd be here like that too."

"I'm not making bank," I said jokingly.

"Yeah? How much you getting paid?"

"Not enough," I said. We weren't supposed to discuss how much we got paid, although the company couldn't specifically prohibit us from doing so. But I didn't want to rock the boat by divulging how much I was making, just in case it was a lot more than Jeff was making. We all did the same job, pretty much. "You're here early. Does that mean you're making bank?"

"No," Jeff scoffed, "but after so many days off, I got bills to pay."

"Same here my friend. Same here."

I walked off then, going to the time clock, punching in, and then headed to my workstation. The guy before my station, John, already had twenty pieces for me to finish, and I grabbed the first one, threw it into the lathe, and checked the specs. The job required a very specific diameter, within three-thousandths of an inch. A tight fit. No problem. If ancient aliens could do it with rocks and ropes, I could do it with much more modern tools and I went to work with an eager enthusiasm.

I was working on my third piece when Kendra came in the door and my mouth fell to the floor. She gave a quick glance around the shop, spotting me right away, but then she took her time and casually sauntered over to my station.

"Hey there," I said, giving her a quick glance, trying not to stare. She was wearing a sky blue dress that matched the weather with a plunging front that almost revealed too much of her perfectly globe-like breasts, and no back. The bottom edge of her dress barely came down to the top of her knees and she wore a silver chain for a belt which did nothing but bring attention to the fact she wasn't wearing anything underneath. Her hips were the only thing keeping the chain from sliding off her body, and I felt the urge to grab the shoulders and peel her dress off her, but I refrained.

"Hey, Rick," she said, smiling. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah," I said, setting the machine to cut, and turning back to her. "Everything is good."

"Did you get my message?" She asked.

"Yes," I said, nodding. "The note? And thee, uh..." I lowered my voice so that only she and I could hear. "The envelope."