Users

This story has been posted to Literotica.Com with the full knowledge of the original author, JimBob44. No part or whole of this story may be reprinted in any other format or on any other web site without the express written consent of the original author.

Author's Note: Any and all persons engaging in any sexual activity are at least eighteen years of age.

Disclaimers: This story has been edited by myself, utilizing Microsoft Spell-check. You have been forewarned; expect to find mistakes.

**..**

The chartered fishing boat bobbed gently as the three men sat in the comfortable captain's chairs. The fish were not biting this morning but the three men were already racing toward a monumental drunk; passing the bottle of tequila back and forth.

The crew encouraged the antics of the three men; after all, they were generous with their money. The beautiful senorita smiled sweetly as she brought a fresh bottle of tequila, her small breasts glistening with oil, her bikini bottom barely covering her hairless mound or her juicy backside.

The captain of the chartered fishing boat stepped into the cabin and glanced at his sonar. Not visible from the boat, but visible on the electronic screen was an oil rig. The man watched as a small blip approached the stationary structure. As the small blip made its progress, the captain picked up his cell phone and began punching the numbers into the touch screen.

The boat commissioned by Tri-Carter tied off to the rig. Three electricians disembarked from the boat. Four crew members unloaded the equipment the three electricians would need, as well as the mudlogging company had ordered. When given the 'go-ahead' the boat was boarded by three electricians slated to return to dry land.

After visual confirmation, the crew of the boat began their return voyage.

Aboard the fishing boat, the captain smiled with satisfaction. He quickly sent a single digit text message to another cell phone. His task completed, he stepped out of the cabin and casually dropped the cell phone into the waters of the Gulf of Mexico.

"They are pigs," the girl hissed to the man. "My ass is black and blue from these gringos and their hands."

"Their money is good," the man smiled.

When Tri-Carter's boat moored in the Industrial Canal in southwest Louisiana, in the late afternoon, two men watched the boat from their large SUV. The crew was efficient as ever, doing last minute checks of their boat. The lights had come on, illuminating the dark asphalt parking lot by the time the last crew member left the boat. The few lights did not fully reach the docks, did not clearly light the boats moored along the concrete and wooden docks of the busy waterway.

"Now," one man said to the other as the night watchmen completed their first circuit of the docks.

"Now," the second man agreed and they exited the large SUV.

Reaching the boat, both men slipped their goggles onto their eyes and slipped their breathing mouthpieces into their mouths. They made no sound as they slipped into the water.

Underneath the boat was a long fiberglass tube, nearly twelve feet in length. With practiced ease, the two men managed to wrest the tube free from the bottom of the boat.

When the guards completed their second circuit, the two men climbed onto the dock again. They carried the tube to their SUV, watching carefully for any movement.

Once the tube was securely stored in the SUV, the two men got into the car next to the SUV and drove away. A man waited until the night watchmen had completed their third circuit before getting out of the rear of a minivan and walking to the SUV. He used his key to unlock the door and got into the driver's seat. He slowly drove out of the parking lot and was followed a moment later by the minivan.

**..**

<<>>..<<>>

Even as she knew God would not listen to her prayers, Candy Walsh prayed fervently as she tried to locate the key for the door from garage to kitchen. Her hand shook horribly as she squinted, one eye shut in the dim lighting of the large garage. A rum hangover was bad enough but withdrawal from a copious amount of cocaine seemed to intensify the hangover.

"Dear God, please let him already be gone on to work," Candy mumbled as she finally managed to locate, then insert the key into the dead bolt mechanism.

But, just as she knew God was neither listening nor willing to hear her prayers, her husband Jimmy was seated at the kitchen table. He looked up from his tablet, his day's schedule and stared at Candy.

"I um, we..." Candy began

She stopped when Jimmy looked back at his scheduled itinerary for the Thursday morning. She stood in shock, one hand on the doorknob, the other on the kitchen counter.

"Close the door; you're letting all the AC out," Jimmy said, taking a sip of his coffee.

"He...he doesn't even care," Candy realized as she numbly closed the door.

"I, I, let, let me just grab a quick shower," Candy mumbled, staggering from the kitchen toward the large staircase.

In the large bathroom, Candy wiggled out of her black lace panties. She gave them a quick rinse; the semen was puddling in the lacy crotch of the skimpy garment. Getting out of her top, Candy winced as she saw a large passion mark on her left breast.

"God damn, stupid mother fucker; I told him not to..." Candy cursed then climbed into the large walk-in shower.

Finally dressed for another day's work at O'Neil's Furniture & Appliances, Candy tremouslly made her way down the stairs. In the shower, as she scrubbed herself clean, Candy had resolved to make an unhealthy breakfast for her husband. A breakfast with plenty of bacon, artery clogging bacon and cholesterol laden eggs. It was the type of meal her man really appreciated and would be an apology of sorts.

He was not there. Peering into the garage, Candy saw that Jimmy's pickup truck was gone. Looking again around the kitchen, Candy saw that Jimmy had put his coffee cup away. He'd even taken the time to clean the coffee pot.

"What? Couldn't even bother leave me some coffee?" Candy snarled, now angry.

While Candy was angrily chomping her way through her quinoa and tropical fruit medley, while Jimmy was asking the first customer of the day to please put her toy poodle into another room so he could check her cable connections, William Carter was at his desk, sullenly looking through the latest projections. He was on track to lose another fifteen percent this month, if the numbers could be believed. He knew the numbers were right; that bastard Rick Blanchard was never wrong.

A movement just outside of his office door caught his eye. Delilah, his personal assistant was sitting up a little straighter. Her eight month pregnant belly made the movement somewhat difficult but the chubby red head managed to sit up straight and smile widely.

"Yes ma'am. It's a girl. Yes ma'am, we did get the Raggedy Ann doll; thank you. It is just so cute."

Then Minnie Carter's face was in the doorway of William's office. His mother did not have a smile on her face as she looked at William.

"Boardroom," Minnie said and disappeared from sight.

"Yes ma'am. You have a nice day. Oh! Well, thank you!" Delilah continued with her happy prattle.

Entering the boardroom, William saw his younger brother Andrew and Natalie, the baby of the family already present and seated. Minnie was settling into her seat at the head of the table, same pinched expression on her face. William slumped into his chair, wondering what this meeting might be about.

"I emailed you the monthly projections," Andrew said, voice hard.

"Andrew, let's call the meeting to order first," Minnie snapped.

After a brief prayer was offered, asking a deity William had no use for to guide them in this meeting, the meeting was called to order. Again, Andrew snapped that he'd emailed the monthly projections to William, and had also hand-delivered a hard copy to Delilah, William's personal assistant. This had been at eight o'clock in the morning, William's unofficial log-in time.

"Yes, Andrew. Delilah did give it to me, Andrew. In fact I was reading it over when Mother stuck her head in and ordered me here, Andrew," William snapped. "So, what's the point, Andrew?"

"The point is, William, we're losing money, William. We are hemorrhaging money, William. And there is just no plausible reason for it, William," Andrew sniped. "We have increased our client base, William. We should have more coming in, William, and yet we're losing money, William. Any idea why, William?"

"I don't know, Andrew. Did your little trailer tramp diarrhea get more tattoos, Andrew?" William snapped. "Did she get another twat piercing, Andrew? Is that where our money is going, Andrew?"

"That is enough, the both of you," Minnie said.

Thinking of his sister in law's numerous piercings and tattoos, William thought of his latest little plaything. When he'd bought his new home in the gated Baylor Lake neighborhood, William had hired an interior decorator through Candy Dermonte.

Shortly after the O'Neil's delivery crew had delivered and set up the new furniture and appliances, Candy showed up at William's house with a cheap rubber plant. Smiling, she bent over to put the rubber plant in a corner of the room.

"I think your new plant would look good right here," Candy suggested, her short skirt rising up and displaying her hairless mound and compact buttocks to William's appreciative eyes.

The desk had withstood their hard pounding. The office chair had also supported them both as she straddled his hips, bouncing vigorously. His bed had also supported their weight as they lay, her straddling him as she rode him.

Last night had been the first night she'd stayed the whole night. Of course, she hadn't intended to stay. She'd started off with some rum, then did several lines of cocaine. Cocaine and alcohol had really fueled Candy's sexual appetite and she'd given William her ass. After a monumental orgasm, Candy had shrieked then passed out.

"Bet them titties would look good with a couple of nipple rings," William thought as Minnie droned on.

"So, all in favor?" Minnie's voice brought William's thoughts out of the bedroom and back into the boardroom.

"I, I'm sorry, William," Natalie tearfully said as she voted 'aye.'

"Wait, what?" William asked, sitting up a little straighter.

"Aye," Andrew seconded Natalie's vote.

"William, I would expect you to vote 'Nay,'" Minnie said sadly.

"Of course. Nay," William said, even though he still had no idea what they were voting on.

"And I abstain, so, the Ayes have it," Minnie sobbed out, wiping at her tears.

"I move that Richard Blanchard step in as interim..." Natalie suggested.

"Interim what?" William asked, looking around, lowly beginning to realize this latest motion was not good for him.

William lashed out with a savage right cross to Andrew's tight face when he realized he was being ousted from his position of Sales Manager with Tri-Carter. Andrew must have anticipated this move; he backed away and William connected with air.

William lunged at Andrew, murder on his mind. It was just a soft nudge to his right knee but Andrew's kick to William's injured knee was enough to cause William to cease with his frenzied attempts.

"Mr. Roberts will escort you to your office," Andrew said, nodding toward the muscled security guard that had entered the boardroom upon Minnie's directive.

"You, you can't, you can't do this," William screamed, managing to pull himself up by using the heavy wood table.

"Read the by-laws, William. We can and have done this," Andrew said, face set in stone.

Edward Roberts quietly offered his assistance as William painfully limped from boardroom to office. William did not notice the sympathetic look he received from the young man when he snarled that he did not need any help.

"Mr. Blanchard's already been here, Mr. Carter," Delilah informed William as he hobbled into the outer office.

"God damn, couldn't even wait for the chair to get cold, huh?" William spat.

His first inkling that something more dire than simply being let go was when he attempted to enter his computer. William had every intention of deleting, purging his Excel spreadsheets. He also needed to wipe a few folders clean before anyone could open them. The computer asked him for his passcode then informed him that the code he had typed in was incorrect.

"Like I said, Mr. Blanchard's already been here," Delilah said as William stared at the screen.

"I. Don't. Fucking. Believe..." William muttered, attempting to enter the passcode again.

William sat for a long moment. A throat clearing from Edward caused William to savagely punch the monitor, cracking the screen into a spider web pattern before it went black.

It took very little time for William to pack any personal effects. There were no framed photos of loved ones, no little keepsakes given to him by any lovers, girlfriends, friends. He did smile when Edward chuckled at the sight of his paddle ball and yo-yo.

"I can do the walk the dog and the around the world," Edward said. "Never could get that rock a bye baby one though."

"I'm lucky to get it to actually come back up," William admitted, rifling through the desk drawers.

"God damn. I, well I guess that's about it."

"If that chair was purchased with a Tri-Carter account? It stays," Rick Blanchard said as William began to push his leather executive chair from the office.

Glaring with white hot hatred at the pudgy middle-aged man, William left the chair. Rick just looked blankly at William as he and Edward limped to the door of the outer office.

"Fucking Rain Man, I swear," William sniped at the man.

"I know I'm on the spectrum," Rick said. "You really want to hurt my feelings? Tell me St. Elizabeth's Distillery will quit making their premium whiskey."

William carried the nearly empty cardboard box to his Mercedes. He dropped the box into the passenger seat and moved to close the door. He glared at Edward Roberts.

"Go ahead. Laugh. Laugh at me," William challenged the young security guard.

"Sir? A man's dismissal is nothing to laugh at," Edward said.

"What the fuck would you know about it?" William snarled bitterly.

"Plenty, sir. More than I care to think about," Edward said, looking away.

"Yeah. Well," William said, looking in the opposite direction.

"You, you going be all right?" Edward asked softly, focusing on William again.

"Yeah, I, I..." William said then faltered.

"Thank God for friends," William thought, staring at nothing for a long moment.

<<>>..<<>>

**..**

In an abandoned home in an area of Lafayette, Louisiana known as 'The Zip' the tube was carefully opened by men wearing raincoats, long latex gloves on their hands up to their elbows, hair nets, goggles and surgical quality masks protecting their noses and mouths. The contents were poured into a few containers then other substances were slowly incorporated with the pure product.

Twenty four hours after the captain of the chartered fishing vessel had guided the submersible tube from his boat to the Tri-Carter boat, five hundred sealed bags were stuffed into five hundred feather pillows. The pillows were placed into cardboard boxes and the boxes were sealed. The fifty boxes were loaded into a trailer and the door was locked.

"Ready?" one man finally spoke as the tractor trailer disappeared from sight.

"Yeah," another man sighed and the clean-up began.

**..**

<<>>..<<>>

While William Carter sat glumly sipping a tumbler full of St. Elizabeth's Premium Whiskey, Candy was smiling and flirting with a potential customer. Even as she 'accidentally' let the old man see that her panties were a black lace thong, Candy wondered how she could do some damage control at home. It truly bothered her; Jimmy's lack of reaction to her coming home at six thirty in the morning.

"Girl's night out," she had glibly said as she traipsed through the living room the previous evening. "You know, Megan and Theresa and I think they said Courtney was going be there."

"Uh huh," Jimmy had said, not even looking up from his oh-so-important baseball game.

She'd had to come over and stand in front of him in order for him to kiss her in parting. At first, he had tried to look around her before finally looking up at her slightly amused face.

"He, he didn't even try to cop a feel," Candy suddenly remembered as she 'accidentally' brushed her breasts against the old man's forearm.

He had just stood, kissed her and sat back down. Candy whirled, letting her husband see that she was wearing some plain white cotton panties. In the car, she quickly wiggled out of her panties before backing out of the garage.

"He, he didn't care," Candy thought even as she wrote up the sales and the delivery invoice for the customer.

While Candy was smiling at the old man Jimmy and two of his work crew were trying to isolate a customer's problem. The woman's service would continuously drop out for three, four minutes at a time. Then, mysteriously, the service would start up again. Then, an hour, an hour and ten minutes later, it would just drop again.

"It's almost like, it warms up and then..." Jimmy mused aloud when his cell phone buzzed with an incoming text.

"Overheating?" Jimmy said, deciding to ignore his wife's playful text message about eating lunch together.

"Boss, you a fugenius," one of the men said as they swapped out the defective part.

"Uh huh," Jimmy said, not feeling like a genius.

"A fugenius?" the other man asked.

"A fucking genius," the first man smiled as they now 'walked' the cable back.

While Jimmy ate a ham sandwich in the cab of his service vehicle, Candy decided to hell with her diet and splurged on a medium Brick's South of the Border pizza. If her father or her uncle were still managing O'Neil's Furniture & Appliances, she'd also had a beer with her lunch. But Tom Thibodaux had hired a new manager after buying the furniture store from Tim O'Neil. JJ Hebert was fairly inflexible with his employees. Candy had a sweet ice tea with her pizza instead of the desired beer.

<<>>..<<>>

**..**

It didn't take long for the new product to hit the streets. Shortly after hitting the streets, users started asking for the St. Genevieve product. The name was shortened to St. Genny, and then just Genny. Runners that did not have Genny would lie and assure their base that they had Genny. But users soon learned who had Genny and who didn't.

Sources tried to eliminate Genny; a car would pull up and ask the runner if he had Genny. When the runner would smile, a shotgun would poke out the rear of the car and erase the runner. But even before the body was loaded into a wagon, another runner would take the erased runner's place with Genny in his pocket.

**..**

<<>>..<<>>

"It, it's just work," Candy had comforted herself as another man's sperm ran out of her pussy, staining the panties. "It ain't got nothing to do with love; it's just work."

She needed to prove to her father that she was just as capable of selling as any other employee. And, Candy needed to prove to the other salespeople that she didn't have this job simply because she was Bob O'Neil's little girl.

Her husband Jimmy had smiled and hugged and kissed her when she came home from that first fuck. She'd told him the truth; she was going to deliver a seventeen dollar rubber plant to a customer's house. After all, the customer had spent nine thousand dollars on brand new furniture for his brand new condominium. And, Jimmy had bought Candy's explanation of being wet because she'd been so excited over making a really big sale.

"Need to buy stock in them plants," Jimmy joked the next time Candy went to deliver a plant to another customer.

Jerry Serue, a new salesman flattered Candy, flattered her salesperson ship, flattered her intelligence. He seemed surprised to find out that she was the daughter of the recently deceased Robert O'Neil, half of the O'Neil in O'Neil's Furniture & Appliances. He had a million and one amusing anecdotes about sales; he'd been a salesman longer than she'd been alive.