"Give Me The Remote" Pt. 01

At the end of the night, Patrick and John-John took turns walking the girls to their vehicles. So far, they'd never had trouble with any customers lingering around, hoping to accost any of their dancers. But all it took was one overly zealous customer to harass a girl to scare off dancers from working at a nightclub.

"Rachael said she's going talk with a couple of the girls at The Captain's Table," Swan tiredly informed Hunter as they climbed the steps to their apartment. "Said she likes working here."

"Good, good," Hunter yawned, thinking it might be a good time to interview for an assistant manager.

"That mean you'd have a little more time for your wife?" Soleil asked, running a finger up and down her wet pussy lips.

"Or me?" Swan asked, dropping her camouflage shorts to the floor.

"Maybe," Hunter smiled, dropping his own shorts to the floor of the bedroom.

The three easily swung into a daisy chain. Hunter fed his erection to Swan's hungry mouth while he thrust his tongue and his fingers into Soleil's wet pussy. Soleil glued her mouth to Swan's pussy.

"No, I want this in me," Swan demanded, stroking Hunter's fat cock. "Okay? I want to feel you shooting your stuff up in me."

"Then come on," Hunter agreed, rolling onto his back.

Soleil squatted over Hunter's face, gripping the rung of their cast iron bed. Swan eagerly squatted over Hunter's erection and groaned as he slid up into her.

Swan was the first to achieve orgasm. Soleil was quick to follow. Both Swan and Hunter groaned in pleasure as he pumped a hot load of his sperm into Swan's pussy.

"Give me," Soleil demanded, flopping onto her back and opening her mouth wide.

"Damn, greedy bitch," Swan giggled, but did straddle Soleil's face.

Swan then leaned forward and began to lick up and down Soleil's lightly furred crotch. Within moments, both girls were grunting, then groaning in pleasure.

The next morning, the bread was delivered. Hunter did not offer to play any videos for the delivery man; just thanked him for the delivery.

Indeed and LinkedIn both promised him results. Checking his description of the job duties, Hunter smiled tiredly. Apparently, he did a lot more work than he'd realized. Perhaps he should also look into hiring a second bartender.

"Hi Sweetheart," Swan cooed, skipping into the bar.

"Hi Sweetheart," Soleil echoed, following her sister.

"Potato pancakes," Hunter said and began to fry the four heavy pancakes for them.

He dressed each pancake with a smear of sour cream then put the bottle of maple syrup on the counter.

He was glad the bread man had already gone; both Swan and Soleil were dressed in gauzy baby doll nighties that did little to hide their pink areolae on pinkish orange pussy hair. He was sure, as they straddled the bar stools, much of their delectable rumps were visible in their lacy thong panties.

Mm," Swan approved of their meal.

"And if I hired a cook," Hunter thought, watching their sweetly rounded buttocks as they skipped to the stairwell, "I could go up with them, have a little morning fun."

Many of the applications he received, Hunter set aside. Of the nine he kept in the 'Definitely Maybe' stack, two were thrown out; Hunter had not liked their responses during the telephone interview. There were three females among the nine 'Definitely Maybe' pile and one woman was among the two he'd thrown out.

Upon finding out that Hunter's Cabin was a Gentlemen's Club, another female and a male removed themselves from consideration. Reading through the job description again, Hunter wondered how Bobbi Fischer and Hank Hiemlin had missed the fact that Hunter's Cabin was a Gentlemen's Club.

"Darlene Richards?" Hunter asked.

"It's pronounced REE chards," a husky female voice tittered. "This is she."

"Hi, this is Hunter, from Hunter's Cabin," Hunter said. "I uh, got your resume; you're in ah, DeGarde? Louisiana?"

"Yes," Darlene agreed. "Looking for a change of scenery so when I saw your thing on LinkedIn, I said, 'Okay! That's it!'"

Worked for uh, Babbage's Department Store," Hunter read aloud from her resume.

"Was the assistant manager for six years, got bumped up to manager when Debbie left," Darlene agreed.

"And, how do you think that being a manager of a lingerie department will help you in managing a Gentlemen's club?" Hunter asked.

"I have to juggle the schedules of five to seven full-time girls, two or three part-timers, plus seasonal helpers," Darlene said. "Dealing with their little temper tantrums, plus the extremely entitled, snotty women that frequent our store? If I can do that, without going crazy or killing any of them little bitches, dealing with dancers and customers should be easy enough."

Hunter had to smile; Darlene's voice carried an underlying sense of humor in her words. And, he did know the difficulty of dealing with women and their feelings and learning when to be flexible and when to be firm.

"This kind of puzzles me," he admitted, reading her resume. "Elgee Culinary College? And, uh, Pinoak School of Mixology? Why did you study any of that?"

"My step-father said if I ever got married, it would be because of my looks and not my cooking," Darlene admitted. "Pissed me off, but damned if it wasn't the truth. So I took their night time beginner's course; four hours Tuesday and Thursday nights. And the Bartending School was just for fun. See, Tom? My step-father, and Mandy, my sister, they're both bartenders at The Dead End. That's one of them Gentlemen's Clubs here in DeGarde. So, I took the classes, figuring I could fall back on that if I ever decided to walk away from Babbage's."

"And, why are you walking away from Babbage's?" Hunter asked. "Seems like you've got a pretty good career going on there."

"Getting a divorce," Darlene said. "And Billy's mother and grandmother have started putting the screws to Mr. Bancroft; he's the owner of Babbage's."

"Sorry, divorce sucks," Hunter commiserated.

"Yeah, well..." Darlene said.

"Okay, I'd like to interview you; when do you think you could come in?" Hunter asked.

"Myndee is..." Darlene mused aloud. "Off Wednesday, Wednesday morning?"

"Ten o'clock," Hunter agreed.

The four men, Hunter had them come in while the club was in operations. Three failed immediately; they could not take their eyes off of the girls. Hunter had to constantly snap his fingers to get their attention.

The last one, Hunter had a good feeling about Brett Hildebrand. His resume was good; he'd been an assistant manager of Club Landslide, a Gentlemen's Club in Benhurst, Colorado. His answers were good. He did look around at the flesh on display; Hunter had to shrug at that. He too did look at the flesh on display. But when Hunter asked Brett a question, Brett was focused enough to answer Hunter's questions.

"Got one more coming in," Hunter said as they concluded the casual interview.

"Oh, okay, so my first duty as your assistant manager will be to tell him the job's already taken?" Brett smiled easily.

"And after that interview, I'll be making my decision," Hunter smiled. "So, I'll let you know, hmm, by twelve, twelve thirty tomorrow. Okay?"

"He's cute," Swan said to Hunter as Brett left the nightclub.

"What? Girl, don't need be looking at him, hear?" Hunter said lightly.

"Hey, just saying," she smiled up at him.

"God, she plays some weird music, huh?" April asked, watching as Rachael flailed her nude body with her long strand of faux pearls.

"Uh huh," Swan agreed, even as her head bobbed and her buttocks shimmied to 'Enslaved' by Diva Destruction.

"Don't think whole bunch of them are even noticing the music," Soleil said, nodding toward the group of customers. "Give me the remote."

"Magic word, might have heard of it? Called 'please,'" Hunter teased her.

"Please give me the remote," Soleil said, rolling her eyes at him.

"Almost better," Hunter said, handing her the remote control.

'Lips Like Sugar' began to play. Again, Soleil began to grind against her husband as the music played. She made sure to 'accidentally' grope his erection as the music played and the unseen woman on the screen performed fellatio on the large dildo.

"That? Watching myself like...oh! Gets me going," Soleil confessed to Swan.

"Uh huh," Swan agreed, giving Soleil a quick kiss on her lips before approaching a table of men.

A moment later, Swan put in drink orders for the table. Behind her, the screen showed 'semen' leaking from the dancer's lips. Hunter pointed toward the stage and Swan nodded her head. Soleil took the drinks to the table. Hunter was sure none of the men could tell the difference between Swan and Soleil.

"Patrick, keep an eye on the place," Hunter asked as he walked toward the stairwell.

"Got it, boss man," Patrick agreed and queued up Swan's first song.

'Club Landslide," a somewhat bored man intoned, then launched into their catch phrase, "'An avalanche of the finest titties Colorado has to offer.'"

"Cute," Hunter said. "Hey, listen, this is Hunter with Hunter's Cabin, calling about a uh, a Brett Hildebrand? Said he worked for y'all?"

"Oh yeah," the man said, his displeasure readily apparent.

"So, what kind of manager was he?" Hunter asked.

"Okay, know how we got all these laws; all I can say is he worked here from month and year to month and year?" the man said. "Hey, Lacy, come talk to this guy; he's calling about Brett."

"What you want to know about that ass hole?" Lacy asked, her dislike of Brett Hildebrand very evident.

"Don't need to know anything; you've said it all," Hunter said.

"Look, only reason he lasted as long as he did? His cousin Duncan owns the place," the man said, coming back onto the phone. "And if he put Cunning Stunts down, don't bother calling them. He lasted all of a week there."

"No, he didn't put Cunning Stunts on here," Hunter said, looking at Brett's resume again. "Myra's Boutique? That's not a Gentlemen's Club, is it?"

"It's a hoity-toity clothing place," the man verified.

Leslie Bogdanovich, the manager of Myra's Boutique verified that Brett Hildebrand had worked for Myra's Boutique. Other than firmly stating that Brett would not ever be rehired to work for Myra's Boutique, the woman did not give Hunter any information.

A call to a buddy with the Clarkston County Police department revealed that Brett Hildebrand had a bench warrant out for failure to appear on a domestic abuse case. Hunter shook his head as he gave his thanks to his friend. Obviously, Brett Hildebrand was a bit of a sociopath. And a skilled sociopath; Hunter had not picked up on any of the man's character flaws.

"Good God, hope Denise, no, Darlene does a little better," Hunter said, leaving the apartment and walking down the stairs again.

Darlene Richards, formerly Darlene Arneaux was early for her job interview and followed the Spuntzin Bread man into Hunter's Cabin. The man gawked at the beautiful blonde woman as she perched on a bar stool and waited for Hunter to finish his business with the delivery man.

"I uh, you going be a dancer here?" the man finally braved asking Darlene.

"Only if we're short-handed," Darlene smiled easily.

Hunter's eyebrows did raise at that statement. Darlene Richards stood five feet, six inches tall. Her waist length hair was a very light blonde and her eyes were large and blue. Her nose was a slim nose and her lips were pale pink, pouting.

For the job interview, Darlene had chosen to wear a knee length skirt and light colored button up blouse. The skirt revealed shapely legs, the top did not conceal Darlene's impressive chest. Skirt and blouse also showed off Darlene's slim waist and nicely rounded hips and buttocks.

"Oh, so uh, you're not going to be..." the man asked, clearly disappointed.

"Thank you, see you tomorrow," Hunter said firmly to the man.

"Baby, you do them waffles? Hi, I'm Swan," Swan said, entering the lounge from their stairwell door.

"With the cinnamon?" Soleil agreed. "Please? Pretty please?"

"Darlene, this is my wife, Soleil, and her sister Swan," Hunter did the introductions as he began measuring out the ingredients for the waffles.

"Her sister?" Swan asked as she perched on a bar stool. "Uh, what about..."

"And, go put some clothes on; I'm interviewing your new boss, huh?" Hunter asked.

"Aw, you liked this just fine last night," Soleil teased, modeling the white satin teddy.

"Aren't they usually naked?" Darlene asked as Swan modeled her own pink satin teddy.

"Yeah, yeah when they're dancing," Hunter smiled.

"Then, what they got on, its fine by me," Darlene shrugged.

As Hunter made six waffles, putting two on each plate, he interviewed Darlene. She admitted, she'd started working at Babbage's while she was still in high school and had no illusions; she'd gotten the job solely because of her looks. After graduating from high school, somewhere toward the bottom of her class, she'd gone from part time to full time at the trendy department store.

"You're not eating?" Darlene suddenly asked, fork suspended between plate and mouth.

"He gets up at six," Swan informed Darlene.

"No. I get up at five," Hunter said. "I run at six."

"Oh. Okay, so, what else do you want to know?" Darlene said, swallowing her mouthful of waffle.

"Well, I want to ask how old you are, but I'm not supposed to. I want to ask why you're getting a divorce, but I'm not supposed to. I want to know why you're willing to move what? Three hundred miles away from your home town; wait. I think I can ask that one," Hunter said.

"Twenty nine, will be thirty in a few months," Darlene shrugged. "Getting a divorce because Billy turned out to be something other than what he pretended to be. And I'm willing to move to get away from Billy and his family, and to a degree, to get away from my own family. Looking at Mandy and Tom just reminds me..."

Billy Richards had come into Babbage's, to buy some clothing for his daughter. Darlene happened to be filling in at the Baby Boutique section; Emily was out sick and Terri was at lunch. Even though Billy was seven years younger than Darlene, Darlene found herself attracted to the young man. He was handsome, had a well-defined body and possessed a skillful tongue, at least when it came to talking to women.

His story of a former girlfriend breaking up with him, then disclosing her pregnancy tugged at Darlene's heartstrings. The unnamed girlfriend's callous refusal to allow Billy access to his own daughter sparked moral outrage in Darlene.

"Yeah, finally had to take Tiff to court," Billy said. "And, this is my first weekend with my baby girl, so I need some clothes, need pajamas, oh! Going need diapers; y'all got that?"

Laci Gernaud was approaching four months of age. Darlene helped Billy find appropriate clothing for the child, helped him purchase cloth diapers and rubber pants.

A few days later, Billy returned to Babbage's Department store. He went to the Baby Boutique and Terri steered him toward the Lingerie section. Billy thanked Darlene for her assistance; the clothes fit perfectly. The cloth diapers were also great; helped clear up a mild diaper rash Laci had developed from the disposable diapers her mother was using. Then he asked Darlene for a date.

Billy had shoulder length blond hair, a strong, square face, soulful brown eyes. He drove a brand new Ford F250 and had a ready source of cash. Their first date was to Radcliffe's for fine French dining. Their second date was to Side By Side Steakhouse.

Seven months later, Darlene and Billy were married. The Richards family insisted on a pre-nuptial contract and Darlene readily agreed. She brought the contract to Penny Jones, an attorney that frequented the lingerie section of Babbage's and Penny suggested some minor changes. All parties were ameniable and the wedding went off without a hiccup.

Two years after marrying Billy, Darlene saw who and what Billy truly was. Among the 'idle rich' Billy was comatose wealthy. He was a spoiled little boy that had never grown up; part of his boyish charm. The boyish charm wasn't so charming when Darlene had to work all day, then come home to a petulant and whining man that wanted to be fed. And after being fed, Billy wanted sex. He did not seem to understand his wife's aversion to sex with him.

"Billy, it ever occur to you to put your cereal bowl into the dishwasher?" Darlene asked.

"Hmm? Oh! I thought I had," Billy said.

"Really? When it's sitting right there? On the coffee table?" Darlene asked. "Right in front of you? But you thought you'd put it up?"

"Billy, I know you know where the vacuum cleaner is; you left it in the hall when you got your golf clubs out the other day," Darlene said. "Here's an idea; get it out and run it over the floor every now and then."

"Billy, Jesus! You can't tell me you can't see how disgusting that toilet is," Darlene shrilled.

"Gee, I wonder why I'm not in the mood to fuck," Darlene muttered to herself.

The day after their second year anniversary, Billy took Darlene to Benito's Fine Italian restaurant to celebrate their anniversary. They went the day after, because Billy had forgotten the day of their anniversary. Their waitress was a very attractive red head with pneumatic breasts that rivaled Darlene's own substantial chest.

"She's pretty hot, huh?" Billy asked Darlene.

"Hmm? Our waitress? Yeah, I guess," Darlene agreed.

"You uh, you ever done it? With a woman?" Billy asked as Darlene nibbled on a breadstick.

Darlene didn't answer. She knew no matter what her answer was, Billy would use her words in an attempt to manipulate and coerce her into sex with another woman.

If Darlene said 'yes' she had enjoyed sex with another woman, Billy would want details. Then he would pressure Darlene into repeating that experience for his voyeuristic pleasure.

If Darlene said 'no' she had never had sex with another woman, then Billy would pressure her, telling her she owed it to herself to experience the joys and intimacies of sex with another woman. Again, the experience would be more for Billy's voyeuristic pleasures rather than for Darlene's physical pleasure.

Darlene had no desire to admit, yes, she'd had sex with another woman. The first had been Anna Babbage, mother of Dan Bancroft. The older woman had reverted to her maiden name after divorcing John Bancroft. Darlene's white gold heart with three carat diamond and twenty inch white gold chain had been a gift from the older lover.

Those moments with Mrs. Bancroft were private memories that Darlene held dear to her heart. So too were her memories of making love with Stephanie Broussard, a former classmate from Northside High School. Darlene and the beautiful, plump Stephanie had run into each other at Brick's Pizzeria. After exchanging hellos and catching up on one another's lives since graduating high school, Stephanie invited Darlene over to the house. After a few joints of poor quality marijuana, Stephanie leaned over and kissed Darlene. Darlene had returned Stephanie's kiss.

"Huh, you ever..." Billy pressed.

Darlene knew this would be just like the anal sex question. Darlene had admitted to having anal sex, once. She also firmly stated she had not enjoyed the dirty and painful act. But confessing that she had once had anal sex spurred Billy into insisting that they have anal sex. He continued to insist, until finally, Darlene relented.

Anal sex was still dirty, painful, and very unfulfilling. Billy, however, had enjoyed the act tremendously and pressured Darlene often to repeat the act.

"Here we are, sausage and peppers, ma'am?" The beautiful waitress smiled, placing Darlene's plate in front of her. "And sir? The three cheese ravioli. Would either of you care for some fresh Parmesan? Or fresh black pepper?""

Both Darlene and Billy watched the waitress's large breasts wiggle and bobble as she worked the cheese grater for Darlene's sausage and peppers over linguini. Billy asked for pepper for his ravioli and again, the red head's impressive chest wobbled and bobbled as she worked the simple appliance.