Louisiana Heat Ch. 03byshandal©
This is a ten chapter romantic Crime thriller with consenting erotic and romantic sex, male on male violence and a lot of exciting cliff hangers at the endings of each chapter.
As is usual in my stories there are a large selection of colourful characters and not all of the people in my stories have happy endings.
You have been warned -- so if you like the kind of story that combines sex, violence, complicated and interweaving story lines, and that you can sit back each day and read a new chapter -- read on.
The Mayor stood on the front porch of Abigail house straightening his tie, checking himself out making sure his suit was brushed down and then wiping his face with his handkerchief, clearing the sheen of sweat off of the round overweight jowls and cheeks. Raising his hand he knocked on the door and waited for the door to open. Earlier in his office he had picked up signs that he thought was Abigail flirting with him, but he was unsure. She seemed to be subtly coming on to him, but he knew she was having an affair with Rory, and he was also aware that she had played that sucker Jake before that, and now she seemed to be coming on to himself.
Maybe she thought she could play him, but he knew that his Mama didn't raise a stupid man, no Sir. Mama Gaudet had raised a canny man, a clever and careful man who knew how to manipulate and get what he wanted.
And what he wanted was a good poke in Miss Abigail, and see what she was up to at the same time. Because he had an inkling that the young woman was up to something and he would play along if it would get him what he wanted.
The door opened and the sweet smell of roses wafted out along with the sound of the radio playing Cole Porters 'Night and Day'. Abigail was dressed in a light summer blue dress, her arms bare, and the beginnings of the swell of her breasts visible in the scoop neck of the light cotton bodice. Claude stepped over the threshold and through the door, removing his hat and murmured, "Miss Abigail."
Stepping back she smiled and replied, "Thank you for coming.......would you like an iced tea?"
"Sounds fine......" and he walked further into the hall and followed Abigail into a light and bright front room where a large wooden ceiling fan moved the warm air around and large vases of blood red roses gave off their sweet smelling scent into the room.
"What was it you wanted to discuss Miss Abigail.....what is it that's troublin' you?"
Turning her head to look provocatively over her shoulder as she poured the iced tea from the pre prepared jug, she asked him, "Claude.....I can call you Claude?"
"Yes Missy....Claude's just fine."
Turning she handed him the tall glass of drink. "Claude, why don't you take off your jacket and get comfortable. It sure is hot today. Sit down and make yourself comfortable....." and she took her own glass and sat down on the chair opposite where the Mayor sat, who after placing his glass on the table, and placing his now removed jacket on the easy chairs back, pulled out a cigar from his vest pocket and started the process of lighting it.
"Claude......I have always admired you.......you're a powerful man.......a clever and commanding man. I'm kind of in a difficult position and I need to be able to ask for your help......"
Pulling on his cigar, great clouds of smoke rising up to join the wooden fan swirling around attached to the ceiling he sat back and relaxing raised on eyebrow, inviting her to carry on.
Raising his other eyebrow he waited.
"Well......" and she took a sip of her drink then placed it down on the coffee table alongside his, "I'm worried......"
In the protracted silence that the Mayor deliberately gave her she continued, "As you know, Rory and I have been....close.......very close......and he has confided in me some things......things I think you would be at an advantage to know."
Getting up and going around the table to stand next to the Mayor, she then sat down on the edge of the coffee table in front of him, as if she was about to tell a secret and didn't want anyone else to hear. Leaning forward she placed her hand on his knee, the scoop of her bodice falling forward allowing Claude a deeper view of her breasts. "I'm scared......no one realises the truth about Rory.....his temper......his drinking......I thought he was different than he turned out to be......he's so brash.....talks too much.....is rough......not like you......I feel I could trust you.....a man like you that everyone looks up to.....so cultured....a real gentleman." And her hand squeezed his thigh gently.
Claude felt himself harden, his cock twitching behind the material of his flies.
"When he drinks he says things......like about what he has done on behalf of yourself and how you framed Jake."
The Mayor cleared his throat. "Seems to me you were a little bitty tied up with what we all did to Jake......you're no innocent Miss Abigail."
Sliding down onto her knees between the Mayors legs she slid her hands up both his thighs. "No Claude....not a complete innocent....but you know I like a man with power.....a man with style....a man with experience......Rory is young and stupid......he's talking too much.....has plans to rise higher in this town.....but he's no competition for you....."
Her fingers started to unbutton his flies and Claude's arms spread out each side of himself along the arms of the chair, and as her eyes bore into his, the cigar between his fat fingers now forgotten, "I need protection of a man like you from Rory......I need a man that can fulfil me and what I want.......I can give you sweet release, tell you what Rory is up to.....what he is saying and to whom......" and she lowered her head down into his crotch and with her small hand lifted his now hard cock to her mouth.
Claude's head dropped back, eyes rolling in his head with pleasure as her hot wet mouth slid up and down his rock hard rod, her tongue swirling over him, and the suction in her mouth pulling him further into the perfect cavern of her warm wet mouth giving him a blow job better than he'd ever had. Better than the ones the cheap whores over in the next Parish gave him on the odd times he went over there away from prying eyes, or the non existent ones his dried up wife of twenty years never gave him, or ever had or would.
The exquisite pleasure peaked and he shot his wad into her mouth, then sat there knowing that this was going to be the start of a new partnership.......one in which he would have to watch her carefully if he was going to get everything he wanted out of her and walk away unscathed.
Taking a long pull on his cigar and blowing out the smoke he smiled a calculating smile and asked, "So Missy......what is it that Rory is sayin' 'bout me that I need to be so damn careful about?"
Doing up his flies Abigail smiled up at the Mayor through her eyelashes, "He says he has kept proof of what you've been up to.....proof about forcing the farmers to sell up at greatly reduced prices, and selling on the land, proof about the framing of Jake, and where all the skeletons, figuratively speaking is buried."
"Did he now?"
"He trusts me.....he thinks he can control me.....but I know that my future is safer in the sure hands of someone that has so much more experience.....if you know what I mean?"
"I know what you mean.......so do you know where he keeps this information?"
"No......but if you would take me under your wing, so to speak......make it worth my while.....maybe a little present.....a nice amount of cash.....I can find out where......I can give you what you want.....whatever you want."
"Whatever I want?"
"That Ma Cher would be a very interestin' prospect......."
And the deal was discussed and then struck between the two people, each believing they could play the other for whatever they could get.....neither really trusting the other.
The truck was loaded with the now picked produce, eggs harvested and fruit in tins and baskets, vegetables in crates in the flat back of the vehicle. Climbing up behind the wheel Frank looked down at Hannah as she stood swaying slightly in exhaustion, and he told her, "Forgit sortin' out horses, I'll do it whennin I get back'n from deliverin' this to town......wash up.....lay down an' rest....later'll be soon 'nough to do chores."
Hannah looked up at her old and faithful farmhand and gave a weak smile, "Who's the boss here Frank. You just be careful in town.....do the delivery and bring back those supplies.....I'll see you then." Closing the trucks door she waved as he set off down the dirt road in the direction of the town, and then turned around and walked wearily to the door of the house. A nice long soak in the bath sounded good about now.......and then a small rest before she completed the rest of the never ending chores around the farm.
Entering the bathroom she turned on the faucets and listened as the old plumbing made its usual cranks and wheezing sounds before the water sputtered out, precious water that came from the water tower and tanks now only half full compared to how they used to be before the levees were put in the rivers, lowering the water table and drying up her rice fields, once the main produce and life blood of the small farm.
Stripping off her loose cotton blouse and baggy worn denim dungarees she stepped out of her panties and bra and stepped into the tepid water before blissfully laying back to cool off, and then picking up the worn old sponge and plain bar of soap she washed the sweat from working all day in the fields off of her skin before sinking back and lowering her face down under the water to wash her soft brown hair.
The woods were now turning into swamp with soft earth underfoot becoming squishy, small trickling bayou's and lots of tangled undergrowth under foot. Gripping his side which was a continual burning throb where the bullet had cut out a furrow of his flesh, and stumbling along lost, Jake made his way slowly forward, every so often looking over his shoulder or stopping to listen to see if he was being followed.
Stopping and falling to his knees beside one of the slow moving bayou's running through the pungent earth he bent and scooped up water to drink and then sluice some over his head and shoulders to cool himself down. Sitting, legs crossed he looked at the wound in his side and noticed it had stopped bleeding but there was a definite swollen puffy redness around the wound.
Infection was setting in. He needed to get to medical supplies and fast.
Scooping up in his cupped hand some more water he carefully washed the wound as best he could before getting to his feet and crossing the water and carried on his way deeper into the swamp ahead.
Back at the compound Broussard who had made it finally back there, reported that they had been attacked by five of the convicts and that they had killed the other guard and the sixth prisoner, Granger, before escaping. He claimed that the ringleader was Jake Bailey and that he had tried to save the other prisoners from killing Granger but had been overpowered.
A posse was arranged and climbing into a car, four men including an injured Broussard went back towards the clearing where the two bodies still lay. Standing looking down at the corpses and then picking up the discarded prison jacket laying on the ground where Jake had dropped it, it was decided to contact the main prison and get a couple of bloodhounds to get the scent off of the jacket and then follow the dogs as they tracked the missing men.
Scooping up the dead bodies and placing them in the trunk of the car the posse drove back to the compound to get more organised for the chase and capture of the six missing members of the chain gang.
Darkness had begun to fall and utter exhaustion fell over Jake so that he was hardly making any progress. Looking around he decided climb up into a large tree to relative safety and get some rest.
Once he was wedged into a high up area of the tree and had lain back, he closed his eyes and was out like a light. Sleep and exhaustion had taken over his body, so that as the night animals took over the area and came out looking for food below him he never noticed.
Rory walked into his home, slammed the front door and strode past his wife as she stood there, babe in arms, totally ignoring her. Striding up the stairs he flung off his jacket and suit vest and put the package of bubble bath down on the dresser, and then sat down on the end of the bed to remove his shoes.
His wife had followed him up and now stood timidly in the doorway, a sad and mournful look on her thin face, her tearful grey eyes following him as he undressed ready to have a shower. "You're going out to her aren't you?......that woman?"
He ignored her comment, continuing to remove his shirt, "You're going to meet her.....why don't you stay at home?.....what's happening to us Rory....we used to be so happy?"
He gave a long hard look, derision in his eyes, "Happy?......I wasn't happy.....we were just existing?"
He cut her off, his voice harsh, "But what!......look at yourself.....just look at yourself.....since the baby was born you've become a nothing......you're just a shadow of what a woman should be.....carrying around that crying brat......that look of 'oh so hurt martyrdom' on your face......a man needs a woman....a real woman....not someone like you."
"You didn't used to think so."
"I didn't have much option before....I wanted to fuck...you wanted to get married....now I want to fuck someone else.....get it?"
Tears ran down her cheeks and she held the baby close to her, rocking in the doorway, "Please don't go out...stay here....I promise....."
"SHUT UP......just shut up and get out of my sight."
Rushing over to her, his face just inches from hers he screamed at her, his face red with rage, "JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP AND GET OUT OF MY SIGHT......."
Jerking her face back as if she had been slapped, his wife stared at him, not recognising the man she had fallen in love with. It was as if someone had taken over Rory's body, someone that she didn't recognise, the complete opposite of the person she once had known. Turning on her heels she left the bedroom and went downstairs, laying the child down on the sofa where she sat crying her heart out as her husband carried on getting changed upstairs, making himself ready to go over to Abigail, the other woman in his life, and the focus of his obsession.
The Mayor walked into his house, kissed the cheek of his wife and sat down content. Soon the last farm would be his to sell on for a high profit to the county, he would have any incriminating proof of his crooked deals that Rory had, a wife that was respected throughout the county for her good deeds, he had high position and power in the town, money in the bank and his eye on the Governorship. And now he had a young mistress to see to his needs.
He was indeed feeling a contented man.
Leaning back he undid the buttons on his straining vest where it pulled across his round paunch, kicked out his legs and smiled to himself.
The Sheriff peered through the window of the old farmhouse, letting the shadows of the night hide him as he watched Hannah move about the room inside, her pink worn Chenille bathrobe pulled loosely around her slim long body.
Licking his lips he watched as she sat down, the mug of coffee in her hands, as the robe gaped slightly and her long naked legs bent as she pulled them up onto the couch exposing her knees and thighs to his sight. The sounds of the countryside night surrounded him and he placed a hand against the wooden wall of the old house as he leaned forward, squinting through the gap that the curtains made as they covered the inside of the window glass.
Her hair was still wet from the bath, the ends curling gently around her face and falling on her shoulders, and he yearned to be able to knock at the front door and then enter into the room, take her in his arms and kiss her like he wanted to, like he had dreamed of all these years.
But his insides were in knots and he slowly moved away from the window and walked quietly back through the fields to where he had left the car, far enough away so that it couldn't be heard by Hannah when he started it up and drove away.
The Mayor wanted him to burn down her fields, but he knew he couldn't do that.
Not to Hannah.
He needed to make her sell up and come to him. He could look after her once she sold the farm. He'd earnt enough money as Sheriff, and he loved her.
Had for years.