A/N -
I would like to present my offering for the second annual
Crime and Punishment 2024
story event. This story is a new category for me, Erotic Couplings. This story idea, like others, came to me while enjoying my favorite morning ritual, a cup of coffee. Here is my take on a little
Crime and Punishment.
Though this story is posted to the Erotic Couplings category, this story does contain sexual relations between a heterosexual couple, a Sapphic bisexual couple as well as a very loving MFF threesome. If this type of story isn't to your liking, I understand and I appreciate you stopping by.
This storyline as well as the characters and names are purely fictional. If there is a chance of any misrepresentation of reality, it is pure coincidence and not intended.
Any mistakes you see are mine; these eyes aren't what they used to be. Please enjoy and let me know what you think. Stars are nice but I do appreciate honest and constructive feedback in your comments.
***
Angie
I sat watching with the use of Athlon Optic binoculars as the same employee of the country club walked through the parking lot with the two gym bags, large gym bags, which were suspected to be full of cash and got in the same car he had for the last three times over the last nine months. Like clockwork, the last Sunday of every third month the transaction was completed.
Once in his station wagon he started it up and left the country club. He turned right out of the parking lot and headed west on SR 22 towards Cadiz and the Smithson Construction and Landscaping Company, just thirty-one miles away.
I followed him at a distance then parked and then snuck around the corner. Once hidden again, I watched as he pulled into the parking lot of the landscaping company and carried two gym bags inside. He came out and locked the gate behind him as he left. I sat there watching him thinking about it.
Mariam, my cousin from the bank, told me that on the last Monday of the quarter, just like clockwork, Carl Sr. carries in cash totaling more than four hundred thousand dollars into the bank just before it opens. He meets the bank manager, Albert Nelson, his old high school buddy from the 1955 graduating class, and then completes the transaction.
It took me almost a full year to figure out when they were doing this; almost a full year. For the last nine months, I have been working on my plan. I knew I had a few months to put the final details on my plan.
I am sure that the dirty, filthy cash was being laundered through the Country Club and then routed back through the landscaping company. From there it would filter to one of the other companies old man Smithson owned. One day soon, at least one load would become mine. Four hundred thousand dollars was more than ten times of what my annual salary as a secretary at the hospital; ten times!
Over a year ago, it was all over the news and the town's folks were still upset that the Country Club, which fifteen months ago was semi-private, was closing and being renovated. When the renovations were completed it would then become a by invitation, members only club. Rumors flew about something shady going on for them to afford it. We might be a bunch of coal mining hicks but we aren't without intelligence.
I knew what I needed to do and when I needed to do it. I just needed the perfect person or persons, someone I could believe in and someone I could manipulate and convince to do my bidding, assisting me.
Almost twelve months of sporadic vacation days up all night and day trying to figure it out. It started with a good skeleton plan but as time has gone on, I have put together a well throughout one, and it was time to go to work putting it in action.
In the end Carl Smithson Sr. would finally understand what his chicken shit son did to me and how bad my life turned out all because of his shit son. For the last eight years and for the rest of my life I suffer because of his stupid ass son. The same son who disappeared and at the hands of the bribed judge who should have but didn't have the wherewithal to throw his ass in jail forever.
That bastard Carl Jr. got lucky joining the Marines. At least he got out of this shit town.
I would make them understand what it is like to look in the mirror every day for the rest of my life. I wanted him to see and feel the pain I felt every day. I wanted them to know the terror I felt every day when I would dress and try to hide the pain, to hide the ramifications all the while causing more pain by putting on the fake smiles and pretend to live normally all the while I live in hell, knowing how I look to others.
I am going to take part of his life away from him, no not all of it, just enough to make Carl Sr. feel pain and agony every single day. And if he was fortunate, I would only do it once, maybe twice. I laughed a little when I thought about doing it twice, which was doubtful.
Yeah just one time would be enough, liken to the one time his chicken shit son wrapped his car around a telephone pole, just like the one arm I lost, just like the one side of my face that is permanently scarred. After three years of plastic surgery, just like his son did to me, I would make him suffer a bit of long lasting pain.
Sure, I got a settlement from his insurance but his sleazy insurance company and the crooked judge made sure that the two hundred and fifty thousand dollars I was awarded went to additional medical bills, not covered by my insurance or his. In other words when all was said and done, and after my rehabilitation, I saw thirty-five thousand in cash. That covered my salary for the time I was off work.
I just needed to find the perfect partner to help me and do this. I had an idea who, she was just brazen enough and frankly she was a kick ass woman, a good friend, and more. I knew together we could do it. I just needed her to believe in me.
For now, I would put on my best dress and heels and pretend as if nothing was wrong as I went through the druthers of my job every day as a secretary at the hospital.
***
Eddie
Summertime in our small town is the best ever! Why? Well what is so bad about sitting outside and enjoying a cup of coffee on my lunch or other break while enjoying the fresh air and the folks walking up and down the sidewalks of our cafe, just enjoying life?
There is just something about her that causes me to pause every time I see her. Some say she isn't the most beautiful woman to walk the sidewalks and the streets of our little town but I will disagree. She is one of the two women in this town who will make me stop dead in my tracks when I see either of them. My ears and more perk up when I hear the '
click clack'
of her heels against the concrete sidewalk.
She has stunningly beautiful and well-toned calves which are accentuated by the heels she wears. She has a beautiful figure, with womanly hips, and a slender waist. She has a true twenty-four carat diamond smile and the facial features which would make most models jealous.
She isn't rail thin; she has amazingly beautiful and lengthy chestnut brown hair which reaches midway down her back, hmmm. It is just the perfect length to grab a hold of while fucking her doggy style. Yeah, I know, in my dreams!
Believe me, I am not the only one to dream of fucking Angie Fisher. After all she does have a world class perfect ass, the perfect legs and amazing body as well as a lovely personality to go with it. Yep, Angie is one of the two most beautiful women in our town.
She is amazingly attractive, as well as down to earth; she is a special woman to walk the streets of our small town west of Steubenville, OH. She is kind and generous. She volunteers most weeks after working at the hospital on Wednesday nights at the Women's and Veterans Shelter.
That smile fires me up every time I see her, and does even more when we chat. You see I have known Angie for my whole life; we grew up down the street from each other. We went to school together and well, she was my first kiss, I mean it might have been when we were in seventh grade, but Angie Fisher was my first kiss.
Now that fact was never lost on Michelle, or Chelle as we call her, but that is a whole different story. I paid that price for months when she found out at the eighth grade dance but I will tell you more about Chelle later.
Those who say, and there are a few, that Angie isn't a beautiful woman any more, which I vehemently disagree with, are blind. I point the blame squarely at one Carl Smithson Jr. and the beat up old piece of shit 1973 Olive drab Barracuda he drove.
He thought he was the cat's meow, the cream of the crop and king shit. Well he was then and still is lower than whale shit in my opinion. He sank even lower when he drove that car on a snow covered road and wrapped the passenger's side of it against a telephone pole.
Yes that is right, that piece of ... well by now, you must know how I feel about him. He partially wrapped his car around a telephone pole injuring Angie, breaking several of her ribs, scaring her forehead, cheek and neck, as well as decapitating her right arm. It was torn right off her body at the ball and socket joint of her shoulder.
Some say it was her fault, losing her arm as she had it hanging out the window on a cold winter day. I call that bull ... you know what. I say it was his dumbass fault for driving so fast on a snow covered road.
Lower than whale shit.
Yes, even with all my success she still seems to be so far out of my league. She is untouchable, well unfuckable and absolutely unobtainable as a girlfriend or wife. Even after that one kiss, I knew right away but she wasn't a snob or anything, I wasn't the bad boy athlete she wanted.
But every so often when I have my coffee and I get to see her, even all these years later after high school, college and my Phar.D., she and Chelle are the two who stop me dead in my tracks and make me glad to call this place home.
I took the last sip of my coffee at the shop across the street, which isn't anything fancy. It is just a normal everyday coffee shop, just a plain ole joint. I looked at my watch and realized I needed to get back to work. I work at the Apothecary across the street.
