Sintown Chronicles II: Through Bedroom Windows (72 page)

“Uh huh."

When the door opened, Shelly's face reflected surprise. “Ron?"

“Hello, Shelly. Mrs. Dollar is expecting you."

Annie clung to Shelly's leg. “You work for the Dollars?"

He smiled broadly revealing his perfect white teeth. “I'm the butler, caretaker, housekeeper, cook and baby sitter."

Shelly's lips turned into a grin as she said, “You'll make somebody a damn good wife."

“Aren't you forgetting something,” he said, fondling her hip out of Annie's sight.

Shelly smiled and placed her hand over his probing paw. “I'm not likely to forget. Perhaps I should have said ‘househusband.’”

“I'm not the marrying kind, Shelly. I prefer to love ’em and leave ’em."

“At least you're honest about it."

“We'd better not keep Mrs. Dollar waiting,” he said.

“I thought everyone calls her Sandy."

He nodded. “Everyone but me. The Dollars were very close to their first housekeeper and caretaker who were murdered. They were also fond of their second housekeeper. She turned out to be a fruitcake and her live-in boyfriend was psychotic. He died in a shootout with the police. This time around they decided to keep everything very professional. So, I am Mr. Ascue to them and they are Mr. and Mrs. Dollar to me."

He squatted and smiled at Annie. “I'll bet you are Annie,” he said.

She tightened her grip on Shelly's leg and nodded.

“Pleased to meet you,” he said, extending his hand.

Annie grabbed his index finger, shook it vigorously and giggled.

Holding out his arms, he said, “Let's take your mother to see Mrs. Dollar and then we'll check out what Junior is doing in the playroom."

Shelly was surprised to see Annie wrap her arms around Ron's neck. Ron stood, holding the child loosely, and, with mock formality, said, “Mrs. Dollar will receive you in the library. Right this way, madam."

Sandra looked up from her position at the end of the conference table when Ron announced Shelly, and smiled. “Right on time,” she said as she stood and approached the door where the trio waited. “And how is Miss Annie today?"

“Fine,” the golden-haired tyke replied.

“Good to see you, Shelly,” Sandra continued, extending her hand.

Shelly expected a hug, but recovered quickly and accepted the firm handshake.

“Mr. Ascue,” Sandra said in a very professional tone, “please take Annie to the playroom and do not disturb us for anything short of an emergency."

“Yes, ma'am,” Ron said, gently closing the library door.

“Please have a seat, Shelly. Do you prefer coffee or cola? I have both."

“Wow!” Shelly said as she slipped into a red padded chair. “This is some place you have here."

“I believe Tim gave you the tour yesterday,” Sandy replied, taking her seat.

“No,” Shelly corrected. “He just showed me to the bathroom, waited until I finished and escorted me back to the pond."

“In that case, I will give you a tour one of these days, but I do not want to waste these next five afternoons. I do not mind paying you for your story, but I have no intention of paying you for idle minutes."

“Do you have to be so formal, Sandy?"

“Forgive me, dear. I am in my work mode, I fear. Shall we get started?” she asked as she snapped on the tape recorder.

This is the woman whose tongue was dancing inside me less than twenty-four hours ago. Now she's calling me ‘dear'? “I'm not certain exactly what you expect from me, Sandy.” Should I call her Mrs. Dollar? “Why don't you ask questions and I'll do my best to answer them."

“Fine. First, tell me about your parents and your childhood."

“I can tell you about my mother. I don't know who my father is. I don't think she knew either. Like me, she was a stripper, traveling with a small carnival. We never had a real home. We lived in a trailer and were constantly on the road."

“Your English is excellent and your vocabulary is more than adequate. Where did you receive your education?"

“Maybe I will have a cup of coffee,” Shelly said as she reached for the carafe and a blue mug. “There were several well educated women traveling with the carnival. They worked with the kids. Sometimes I think I received a better education than public schools would have provided."

“Tell me about your mother."

Shelly shrugged. “I think she was attractive—big boobs like me. I think her hair was probably auburn, like mine, but she kept it blond for her stage act. She seemed to be sad all the time and did not have any real friends. She left me alone a lot, so I suppose she slept around. She liked her rum, too. I don't remember ever seeing her sober."

“Was she a good mother?"

“Good? She didn't hurt me, if that's what you mean."

“Did you ever see her act?"

Shelly laughed. “Many of my moves come from watching my mother on stage. At the Crazy Cat Club, there are six performers. My mom shared the stage with just one other woman, and she wasn't much to look at."

“Was there anything exceptional about your mother's act?"

Shelly frowned. “Yeah. After the last performance each evening, men lined up outside our trailer, waiting their turn. That's something I absolutely refuse to do. I'm a dancer—a stripper—but I'm not a whore."

“Where were you while this was going on?"

“It was a two bedroom trailer. I was supposed to be asleep in my bedroom."

“But you weren't?"

Shelly shook her head sadly. “That's how I learned to please men with grunts, groans, moans and shouts. Vocals are an important part of my act. As I grew older, I became a partner in crime. It was so damn easy to steal the guy's wallets while mom was doing them on the bed."

“Your first sexual experience was with a carnival worker?"

Shelly smiled condescendingly while shaking her head. “That would be the public perception—loose morals and all—but it isn't accurate. Carny people will rip off a rube in a heartbeat, but they're very protective of their own. The whole time I was traveling with my mother, no one ever touched me inappropriately. Actually, my first time..."

Sandra held up her hand, interrupting. “Let's don't go into that just yet. Tell me more about your mother. Let's see—she was a stripper, a prostitute, a drunk and slept around. Did she have any good points?"

“Those were her good points,” Shelly laughed.

With Sandra's questions igniting the fires of memory, Shelly found herself talking for three straight hours, pausing only to fill her cup with coffee or waiting for Sandra to put a new tape in the machine.

“Damn,” Sandra said, glancing at her watch and standing. “It's after four. I have an important appointment with Randy Nickels in town. I'm going to have to break this off just when it was getting good.” She extended her hand. “I look forward to tomorrow's session."

Shelly refused the handshake as she, too, stood. “Yesterday you tried your best to make me your lover. Today all I get is a handshake?"

“I never mix business pleasure with physical pleasure, Shelly. I'm sure you do the same. Your striptease act is designed to be erotic, but I'm sure you receive no sexual arousal from it."

Shelly knew her nod of agreement was not exactly the truth. She became so aroused during her act that she could hardly wait for the bouncer to come to her dressing room and reap his nightly protection payment.

“Yesterday we agreed on a fee,” Sandra said, “but not a payment schedule. Do you want me to write a check each day or will one check at the end of the week be sufficient?"

“I prefer to be paid daily, and in cash. It's more difficult for the IRS to trace."

“I don't keep that kind of money in the house, but I will be prepared in the future. Shelly, you can try to hide this money from the tax people if you like, but I assure you that I will report it as a business expense."

As the two women approached the door, Sandy clasped Shelly's face, pressed her lips hard against the surprised woman's lips, and thrust her tongue deep inside Shelly's willing mouth. “There,” Sandy said, opening the door, “that must hold you until the weekend."

Shelly trailed Sandy down the hall. “Is it okay if I use the little girl's room? I need to leave your coffee with you."

“You know where it is,” Sandra laughed.

After flushing and washing her hands, Shelly studied her face in the mirror. Twenty-one and I look forty. I need more sleep, but how can I? I get home no earlier than one and Annie is usually up by seven.

“May I join you?"

She whirled around. “Ron, you startled me."

“Meant to,” he laughed, crushing her breasts in his hands and pressing his lips to hers. He stepped back, smiled and produced a foil package from his pocket. “Mrs. Dollar has departed and the kids are asleep on the playroom floor. For the moment, we have the house to ourselves, but Mr. Dollar may return any minute. Strip for me."

He backed up to the commode, pushed his pants and shorts to his ankles, sat and rolled on the condom. “God, you've got a beautiful pair. The little sagging doesn't bother me at all."

Damn, she thought as she straddled him, he noticed it too. She rocked back and forth as he spidered her huge breasts. “Ron, do you ever sleep with Sandy?"

“That flat-breasted, shriveled up bitch?"

She felt his erection jerk wildly inside her. “You
do
fuck her, you bastard,” she laughed as she began to pump him frantically.

Shelly set the emergency brake on her Escort and massaged her aching thighs. They felt as if they were on fire. She carefully surveyed the empty parking lot. Why do I feel someone is watching me? She reached for the glove compartment, but hesitated. I'm just getting paranoid, damn it. She stood for a moment beside the car, letting her thighs get accustomed to the added weight, then locked and closed the door.

How much more of this can my body take? she wondered as she made her way down the hall. I'm in agony and it's only Wednesday night. She laughed and corrected herself. Thursday morning. Shelly slipped the key from her purse, knocked three times, paused, knocked three more times and opened the door.

Mrs. Jordan's face seemed a blur.

“Two more days, Shelly. Two more days."

“Mrs. Jordan, I gave you Saturday and Sunday nights off. I can do it again this week. Can't you see your way clear to look after Annie four nights a week?"

“At what salary? I have expenses, you know."

“The same salary I was paying you for six nights. That's fair, isn't it?"

“No more bringing your work home with you?"

Shelly was too tired to argue. “I promise."

“Well, we'll try it for a while and see how it works out."

“Thank you so much, Mrs. Jordan. Is Annie okay?"

Mrs. Jordan's expression quickly turned into a matronly smile. “Sleeping like the baby she is."

Damn, Shelly thought as she closed and locked the door behind the babysitter, I've just committed myself to spend every weekend with Sam. I'd better not piss him off.

She dropped her clothes on the bathroom floor as the tub filled with hot water. Her thighs needed more than the shower she always took at the club. She eased into the steaming water, tightening her buttocks against the momentary pain of the near scalding bath. She leaned forward, submerging her thighs in the soothing liquid and waited until the water level reached her waist before turning off the faucets. A sigh escaped her lips as she kneaded the inside of her thighs. How much longer can I keep this up? she asked herself again.

Her body lurched as the bathroom door slammed open. “There you are, bitch. Where the hell have you been?"

“Boyd! What are you doing here? How did you get in?"

“I have a key, stupid, and you didn't set the night latch."

“I made you return the key."

“I have copies, you dumb ass.” He grabbed her hair, bent her head backwards and savagely twisted her right nipple. “I asked you a fucking question, bitch. Where have you been?"

His face was beet red. She knew he was both angry and drunk. “You know where I've been Boyd—at the club like always."

He secured the nipple with his left hand while getting a new grip with his right, allowing an additional complete turn of the tender flesh.

“Boyd, you're hurting me."

“Duh. Answer my fucking question! I came by here yesterday afternoon and again today. Shit, I waited on you for three fucking hours and you never showed up."

She grabbed his wrist with both hands and tried to dislodge his pinching fingers. “Boyd, I can explain."

He backhanded her, causing her head to slam into the back edge of the tub. He twisted both hands in her hair and forced her face under water. She sputtered and gasped for air when he finally released her.

“I don't want your damn excuses,” he shouted. “You knew I was coming. You should have been here waiting for me with your cunt twitching in anticipation."

“Baby,” she said, reaching out to him.

He backhanded her again, grabbed her breasts, pulled her from the tub and tossed her on the floor. “Boyd,” she pleaded as she struggled to her hands and knees. “Don't wake Annie."

“Slut,” he shouted as he kicked her bottom and sent her sprawling on the floor. “Crawl to the bedroom and assume the position."

She obeyed, but when she was on the bed, her body dripping wet, she propped on her hands and knees. “Baby, enjoy my asshole tonight. My thighs are killing me. I can't stand the position tonight. You know how you love to shove that huge thing into my tiny little anus."

He towered over her with fists clinched. “You gonna do it or am I?” he asked.

“I'll ... I'll try,” she said, rolling onto her back. Shelly pulled her legs back as far as they would go, grasped the underside of her knees and forced her feet to her shoulders. Gritting her teeth to avoid crying out, she forced her left ankle under her left shoulder and repeated the process on the other side, leaving herself virtually tied into a human knot and completely at his mercy. She thought of all the horrible things he had done to her while in this position and felt the juices gushing in her vagina. Why the hell do I have to be a masochist?

He removed his belt and grinned sadistically. “How many nights work will you miss if I beat your big, fat ass?"