Inferno Pt. 03

And the moment the man was dressed and gone, Butch ran into Betty's room, sporting a strong erection.

"Fuck I got to have that..." he wheezed and jammed himself into her still gaping anus.

"Oh yeah, Sugar, God, that's how I like it," Betty lied as Butch jackhammered her.

"Thought you was a trucker," Betty said one morning after she'd been living with Butch for two weeks.

"I am," Butch said.

"Then when you going on the road?" Betty asked.

Then Butch sat at his table and sobbed out the story of his suspension.

"And you spending the money you charging your 'friends' on that shit?" Betty screamed and slapped Butch.

"I'm sorry," Butch sniveled as Betty slapped him again.

He pulled her down onto the kitchen floor and had her while she continued to scream and slap him.

Then two of his 'friends' came over and Butch watched through the mirror as Betty handled both men at the same time. He ran, nude, into her bedroom the moment the front door closed behind the two men.

"God I love you, we got to get married," Butch begged as he pumped into her sloppy pussy.

Betty knew she did not love Butch. She knew she didn't even like him very much. But the idea of marriage did appeal to her.

So, the eighteen year old girl and the thirty three year old truck driver got their documents together and went to the St. Elizabeth Parish Courthouse.

"I don't get no ring?" Betty asked after the ceremony. "Kind of wanted a nice ring shows I'm married, you know?"

So, with much grumbling, Butch pulled up to a jewelry store on Highway 19. And, next door, their wedding lunch consisted of two orders of wings from 'The Best Wings in Bender.'

Butch looked at two college girls as they shared food and laughed and giggled with each other.

When they got up to leave, one girl reached over and gave the other girl's buttock a playful pinch.

"You uh, you ever done it, with a girl?" Butch asked, face flushed.

"What? EW, God no," Betty shuddered in disgust.

Their wedding night, Butch was unable to achieve and maintain an erection. But the day after their marriage, he'd scheduled four 'friends' to come over, so Betty got to consummate her marriage eight times. Butch's four 'Friends' fucked her, then after each man left, Butch ran into Betty's room and pounded her.

One morning, a few weeks after their marriage, Butch came to Betty and asked her to fill a jar with urine. Betty thought it was an odd request, but by now was used to Butch's odd requests.

"You want to watch?" she asked and Butch actually felt his cock swell at the thought.

She put the jar on the kitchen floor, squatted over it and spread her legs wide. In a moment, she began to pass a steady stream into the jar.

She looked up in shock when Butch's semen splattered on her breasts. When she finished filling the jar, she stood and slapped him across the face and made him lick his semen from her breasts. And he had another erection.

A few days later, Butch received a phone call and whooped for joy.

"You're fucking beautiful," he told Betty, kissing her happily. "I got cleared; I can go back out on the road again."

"That why you needed me pee in a jar for you?" Betty asked, beginning to see how the world around her worked.

"Well, yeah," he admitted.

"When you going?" Betty asked and added more sugar to the pot of chili she was cooking.

"Tuesday," he said. "Short run, probably be back before Thursday."

"And your friends?" Betty asked, tasting the chili. "Any of them stopping by while you gone?"

He grew angry.

"No, they're not," he snapped. "Why? Going miss them? Huh? Going miss having all them cocks in your hole?"

"No, not really," she smiled and kissed him. "Yours's is the only one I'll miss."

She would not miss any of the 'Friends' and would not miss Butch. But Betty had enough wherewithals to know the male ego was a very fragile thing.

"But don't worry, got a little surprise lined up for you tonight," Butch giggled.

They ate dinner; Butch thought the chili was horrible, far too sweet. But Butch had enough wherewithal to know, if he complained about Betty's cooking, he'd be doing the cooking.

After dinner, Betty took a bubble bath and shaved her legs and arm pits, then applied the sweet smelling lotion all over.

Then she went to her 'Friends' room and waited for Butch's surprise.

"Hey, you uh, God damn, them fucking tits real?" a heavy set blonde girl asked as she nervously entered the room.

Betty was just about to scream for Butch; her eyes blazed furiously at the mirror.

"It's just that, I uh, you know?" the girl stammered as she put her purse down on the lone chair in the room. "I mean, I'm pretty sure, well, I think I'm gay, God, you're really beautiful, you know that, but my friends are all like, 'how you know? You ain't ever even been with a girl' and when I seen your profile, God, I got to pee, you got a bathroom?"

Betty was still furious with Butch, but knew it wasn't this chubby girl's fault.

"Right over here," Betty said and the girl's brown eyes opened even wider.

"Oh my God; you got the voice of an angel," she whispered.

"Not to country?" Betty giggled.

"I think I'm going to throw up," the girl admitted and Betty quickly showed her to the bathroom.

"I told you I ain't into that," Betty snarled hatefully at Butch, startling him when she burst into his room.

"Oh my God, you are sick," Betty hissed as she saw him sitting in his chair, pants around his ankles.

"Look, I'm sorry, I uh, I mean," the girl stammered, coming out of the bathroom.

Betty slammed Butch's door shut and rejoined the girl in the bedroom.

"Listen, Honey Pot, we don't got to do nothing, know?" Betty soothed.

"I mean, I even shaved my snatch; I read somewhere that a lot of gay women like that, fucking itches, but," the girl said.

"Shaved it? Let me see," Betty asked, slightly curious.

"Oh, okay," the girl enthused and wiggled her snug jeans down to mid-thigh.

"Oh, Honey Pot, that is cute," Betty agreed, looking at the hairless mound.

"Can I, them real? I mean, mother fucker, how big are they?" the girl asked, staring at Betty's breasts.

"What's your name anyway?" Betty asked as the girl hefted her large breasts with shaking hands.

"Collette; my friends call me 'Collie' you know, like the dog, but, aw shit!" the girl said then yelped.

"What?" Betty asked, surprised.

"My profile, I mean, shit, I told your boyfriend my name's Megan," Collie admitted.

"Honey Pot, I don't care about none of that," Betty smiled and squeezed the girl's hand. "My name's Betty."

"Betty, can I..." Collie asked and sat on the bed next to Betty and kissed her on her mouth.

Betty fought down the urge to shove the girl away, fought down the urge to scream.

The few times she'd kissed a boy, Betty remembered, they liked to use their tongues. They were real sloppy about it too. A lot of slobber

So she kissed Collie like that.

"Oh fuck," Collie enthused. "Can I, how about I get naked?"

"Sure thing, Honey Pot," Betty agreed, fighting down her nausea.

Collie's hairless pubic mound was plump. All of Collie was plump, with plenty of lumps of fat and lines were her snug clothing cut into her flesh.

"That sure is cute," Betty complimented as she lightly tugged on Collie's belly button ring. "Think I ought to get me one?"

"God no! You, you're body's too beautiful; don't change a thing," Collie enthused.

"Now what you want do?" Betty asked as Collie put her clothing on the chair.

She hid her shudder of revulsion; Collie's buttocks were huge and her thighs looked like cottage cheese as the girl bent over.

"I uh, I got to go to the bathroom," Collie said and bolted from the room.

Betty stood and glared at the mirror and pantomimed punching Butch.

"Uh, your, where'd your boyfriend go?" Collie asked when she came back into the bedroom.

"Think he's in the garage working on that piece of shit he calls a car," Betty smirked.

She had no idea if Butch could hear them or not, but knew Butch was very sensitive about his 1978 Z28.

Betty spread her legs wide; the sooner she could finish with Collie, the sooner she could go bathe the whole incident away, could gargle with mouthwash, could brush her teeth.

And could slap the shit out of Butch.

The sex was over long before Collie finally stopped talking and crying. But finally Betty had pushed the ecstatic girl out of the house, and then stormed back to Butch's bedroom.

"You open this door right now, Buster," Betty hollered when she found the bedroom door was locked.

"I mean it," she hammered on the door.

She ran to the kitchen, got a butter knife and forced it into the slot for the lock.

But when Betty popped the door lock, she discovered that Butch had propped his chair under the doorknob.

So, after scrubbing Collie's saliva from her face, breasts, belly and pussy, after gargling Collie's taste from her mouth, Betty took the can of air freshener back into the other bedroom, sprayed the smell of pussy from the air, and went to sleep.

Butch did not anticipate it, so when he sauntered in on Tuesday to get the duty log, he was frightened when they handed him a jar and asked for a second urine sample.

He provided a sample, got his duty log, and went on his run.

Fortunately for him; Pops, the dispatcher, forgot to call in for a pick up, so the urine sat on a shelf until Friday morning, when Butch had already completed his round. So Pops just threw the sample away.

"All right, Romero, got one going to derbo, Montana," Pops said. "Need your ugly ass in here Wednesday morning, hear?"

"Leave sooner you want me to," Butch said, keeping a wary eye on Betty.

Length of time had not softened Betty's anger over Megan. And the fat blonde had already sent Butch four emails, requesting another hour with the beautiful Betty.

Watching his wife, her beautiful face between the fat thighs of the blonde, pink tongue licking at the hairless slit, Butch had actually been able to ejaculate with just a few strokes of his cock.

But Betty had let Butch know, under no circumstances, would she ever again be with another woman. So, Butch sent Megan his apologies, but Betty was not available.

In a locker room at the University of Louisiana at DeGarde, after a particularly grueling Karate class, Collie mopped the sweat from her forehead, grabbed her towel and soap from her locker, and wobbled into the shower.

"Damn, Collie, you're getting good at this," Ledawn Jones, a pudgy African American girl praised as she too walked into the shower area.

"Oh, thanks!" Collie smiled happily. "You know you already good; you already a yellow belt ain't you?"

"Oh, you shave it? I been thinking I might do that," Ledawn looked at Collie's bald pussy.

"Pretty as that is? I wouldn't," Collie said, looking at the tightly coiled black hair that covered the other girl's slit.

"You think it's pretty?" Ledawn asked, swiveling around so Collie could see it better.

"Yeah," Collie said, blushing hotly, hoping the other girls weren't listening to them.

"I uh, what you doing after this? I uh, shit, you know Early's? They don't ask for ID, I got a pint of gin in my room," Ledawn whispered as she got under the hot spray of the shower next to Collie's stall.

Even if Betty wouldn't fuck Megan, she would fuck men and Butch arranged for her to have a few dates over the next few days.

Butch made four hundred dollars from 'friends' and even fucked Betty's hot, tight ass before getting her to urinate in a jar for him.

While he was gone, Betty got the address for the St. Elizabeth Parish Public Library and drove there.

She had loved reading; Aunt Agnes had hundreds of books in her home and Betty had read nearly every one of those books

Unless she wanted to read automobile or pornographic magazines, there was nothing at Butch's house for Betty to read.

Selecting a book of short stories, Betty found a comfortable chair and sat to read.

She was very nearly finished the first of these stories when she sensed eyes upon her.

Betty looked up and saw a young man, in his early to mid-twenties sitting across from her, scribbling furiously on a pad. She brought the book down and he glanced up.

He gasped as he looked at her, then blushed beet red and put his head down. She stared at him for a moment, and then resumed reading the story.

Dean Degnaud finished his sketch of the young goddess, then wiggled his cell phone out of his pocket and snapped off three quick photographs of her, lest his instructor again accuse him of 'not drawing what was real.'

Then he scribbled on a second piece of paper, ripped the sheet out of his sketch pad and got to his feet.

"You are very beautiful," Betty read as a sheet of paper was dropped between her face and the book she was reading.

She looked up and whipped her head around, but the note-dropper was gone.

She smiled and folded the piece of paper up neatly.

Just as he had feared, Paul Mason did accuse Dean of manufacturing, embellishing the girl's attributes, until Dean showed him the cell phone photographs he'd snapped.

"Aw, yeah, I think I seen her," another student said, pulled out his cell phone and pulled up an Adult Friends web page.

Dean goggled at the nude photograph of his angel, memorized the address and returned to his area.

"Those have got to be fake; no one's got boobs like that," the girl to Dean's left accused.

"L-l-l-l-look f-f-f-for your-your-your-yourself," Dean snapped and again pulled up the photographs of the beauty.

Later on that night, safely ensconced in his apartment, Dean looked up the web site.

It showed that the woman's name was Sapphire, she had just turned eighteen, and she loved lots of cock. Because she was a poor girl from the Ozark Mountains, a donation of a hundred dollars to fuck her sweet little pussy would be greatly appreciated, but she wasn't a prostitute. However, a donation of two hundred dollars and you could fuck her sweet little pussy, her cock hungry mouth, and her ripe, tight ass.

Dean fished through his wallet and pulled out two one hundred dollar bills. Shrugging, he pulled out two more and sent an email to the address that Sapphire listed.

"So what can I get for four hundred bucks?" he asked.

"Hi Sugar, you ain't no cop are you?" was the response that popped up twenty minutes later.

"No, I'm an art student," he responded.

The next response again verified that Dean wasn't a cop, and had no affiliation with any law enforcement agencies.

"Four hundred bucks is a lot of money; what you want to do?" Sapphire responded.

Dean thought about it for a moment.

Sitting at the library, Dean had been drawing a little girl as she and her mother played in the adjoining kid's room. The girl was an adorable biracial child, playing with the finger paints as her large Latin mother made suggestions of what colors to use. Then movement to his left had caught his attention and he'd seen a beautiful brunette sit and begin reading. He had not seen the girl's face, but her hair was a long, lustrous brown, and her body, sheathed in a snug dress, was captivating. And, as she sat, he could see just a corner of her white cotton panties.

So Dean had ceased trying to capture the child's enthusiasm, and instead captured the woman's breathtaking aura.

What did he want to do?

Bury his face between those magnificent breasts, whether they were real or not, bite her belly, nibble on her pussy, bite her inner thighs, leave a hickey on her shapely thigh, spank her sweet ass, put his baby inside of her, sit and stare at her for hours, draw her, paint her, splash paint on her and roll around on a canvas as they made love.

"You still there, Sugar?" Sapphire asked.

At home, Betty remembered the author's name that had written the gripping tale 'Half a World Away' and decided to look on-line to see if the author had written any other short stories.

"Zephyr," she mused and began reading.

Soon, her eyes burned, but she couldn't stop until she'd reached the end, even though Science Fiction was not a particular genre she enjoyed.

Chapter 3

"Dinner," Sergeant Elise Richards called out after giving two hard knocks on the door. "Y'all just about finished in here?"

Eric looked at his client, then at his watch in shock; he had not realized how long they'd been sitting in the small room.

Betty Romero looked at him questioningly.

"No, no, I guess we're finished for the day, though," Eric conceded.

"All right, MISTER Greene," Elise teased. "Guess we'll see you tomorrow at the arraignment. Did they teach you how to do arraignments in law school?"

"No; what happens at arraignments?" Eric said.

"You kidding, right? Hell, I didn't even graduate high school and I know about arraignments," Betty said, large blue eyes wide.

"Ma'am, Elise, Sergeant Richards and I go way back," Eric smiled. "She's just trying, very unsuccessfully, to be funny.

"Ma'am, if I was ever in trouble, Eric would be the second person I'd call," Elise reassured the young woman.

"Who'd be first?" Betty asked as she got to her feet.

"My husband," Elise smiled.

Eric called Parker Johnson, one of the partners at Johnson, Johnson & Lambert, the law firm he worked for. He filled Parker in on what had transpired thus far, then was transferred to his own paralegal and filled Jim Benson in on what he'd been doing.

Then he drove home.

"And here's Daddy," Ann smiled as Eric wheeled into the living room of their new house.

"Daddy, Mom says you'll show us how to dribble a basketball; she doesn't know how," Robbie, their oldest son said.

"And what makes Mommy think I know how?" Eric smiled.

"You know how," Sammy said with absolute conviction. "You know everything."

So, Eric wheeled back outside to where Kenneth had erected a basketball goal for the boys.

Kind of slap it," Eric counseled. "You're actually trying to push it to the ground hard enough to make it bounce back up, like..."

"But how you get it to go from here to there?" Robbie asked.

Eric had never played basketball from his wheelchair before, but with his two sons watching, he couldn't allow himself to fail.

From the window, Ann watched her husband and her two oldest boys. She held up the cell phone as she recorded it with her left hand as her right hand wiped at the tears in her eyes.

"That's my husband," she said.

"And that's my Daddy," Evie announced.

Eric was drenched in sweat; playing basketball had been much harder than he'd thought. But Robbie and Sammy seemed to grasp how to dribble from one end of the driveway to the other, how to shoot at the goal. None of them had managed to make a goal, but they had all given it their best.

"P.U. three stinky boys," Ann announced as the sweaty trio entered the house.

After dinner, Eric helped the boys with their homework, and then sent them off to their baths. He got into his shower, scrubbed off the sweat, then toweled himself off and pulled himself back into his wheelchair.

"Hey, Big Boy," his beautiful wife smiled from their bed.

He smiled; she wore her fish net body stocking. Her legs were spread wide, showing him that the crotch was cut out of the fish net material.

"Hi Little Girl," he smiled as he watched her comb her fingers through her triangle of light blonde pubic hair.

She spread her lips to show him that the inside was very moist and beginning to swell.

"Want a little of my honey, Honey?" Ann cooed and began running a finger up and down her wet slit.

"Well, damned Skippy I do," Eric said and hoisted himself into the bed.

"Or you want to suck on my titties? Love it when you suck on my titties," Ann said as she lowered the top of the stocking to just under her large breasts.

"Give me a kiss first," Eric demanded and she did kiss him passionately.