Summer Employment

Chapter 1 Initiation

Warning: Please don't take this seriously. I didn't.

Characters:

Victor Thomas: College student, age nineteen

Brian Thomas: College student, age eighteen

Tuck Tucker: Owns three restaurants, age fifty-five

Elizabeth Tucker; The Witch, Tuck's second wife, age Thirty-two

Betty: Bookkeeper, petite, meek, age thirty-seven

Trudy: Office worker, age twenty. Large eyes are her distinguishing feature.

Vera Tucker: Tuck's first wife and mother of his daughters. Age forty-three

Eric: Restaurant Manager and fiancée of Caroline Tucker

Caroline Tucker: Tuck's older daughter, age twenty-three

Sarah Tucker; Tuck's younger daughter, age Twenty-one

Melinda: Housekeeper in Tucker home, a Black girl with needs, goes by Missy, age Twenty-eight

Salvatore: Tuck's cousin, Manager of Tuck-South.

After four hours on the job I was bewildered. Why had I let my brother talk me in to spending my summer working for a family-owned restaurant chain? The job description, 'driver and miscellaneous duties' appealed to me, along with the promise of a place to sleep, with meals provided.

So far, I'd been read the riot act by the owner's wife.

"You'll sleep in the cottage at the rear of the house. The maid will deliver your evening meal. You are not to come inside the house unless you're specifically invited," Mrs. Tucker told me when I first arrived at company headquarters. I nodded to confirm that I understood her and was relegated to the first floor storeroom.

"Move everything from the front to the back and everything in the back to the front," the witch told me. "Don't break any of the china. If you do, I'll deduct the cost from your pay."

I was especially careful, carrying stacks of plates, cartons of glasses and individual mugs to shelves at the rear of the storeroom. The mugs had the company logo, a photo of the smiling owner and 'Tuck', screen-printed on them.

The same logo was on the side of a white van, which was backed into one section of the downstairs stock room.

I heard the footsteps of the three women tread the floor above. It was easy to tell which one was crossing the room. The sound Mrs. Tucker's high heels made was distinctive. It had a ring of authority when she walked to the kitchen for a cup of coffee or to the lady's room to take a leak. The sneakers Trudy wore scuffed the floor as she went about her tasks of printing menus, sending facsimiles or sorting the mail. Betty, the petite bookkeeper, only went to the kitchen to fill her coffee mug once that morning. Her heels made a sound to reflect her personality, soft, pleasant and unobtrusive.

At ten A.M. the witch used the intercom to tell me to go pick up her husband. "The keys are in the car, along with directions to the house. Bring him straight here."

I spoke to the box on the wall, "Yes, ma'am," and went outside and got into the Lincoln Town Car. The directions were easy to follow, and it only took a few minutes to drive the two miles. The home was large, and there was another car parked in front of the garage. I wondered why Mr. Tucker needed a driver.

He came out the side door of the house, looking older than the picture of him on the logo. I judged him to be in his middle fifties, much older than the witch whose footsteps had made such an impression on me all morning.

Should I get out and open the back door for him? He was seated in the passenger's seat next to me before I could decide.

"Victor? Please call me Tuck," he said, extending his hand.

"Thank you, Sir," I said, shaking his hand.

Tuck was not a big man. He was wearing a dark, summer suit. His dark hair was slicked back and his mustache was neatly trimmed.

"Did Professor Sawyer brief you about our business?" Tuck asked as I maneuvered the big car into traffic.

"Not really, Sir."

"We run a lean and mean operation. My wife manages the office and I...well, I'm not sure what I do. We only have three restaurants. Two are in the suburbs, catering to families, and one is downtown, concentrating on the theater district.

"I have a short meeting and then you can drive me to Tuck-North," he said as he got out of the car. I noticed a dark SUV was now parked in front of the building.

As I moved cartons of paper goods, cases of canned goods and boxes of cleaning supplies around in the stock room, I listened to the footsteps above. Now, in addition to the witch's high heels, there were scuffing sounds, which I assumed were made by men's shoes.

At eleven-thirty, two men came downstairs and drove off in the SUV. A minute later, Mr. Tucker appeared, saying he was ready to go. He directed me to a route that would avoid the city traffic, and proceeded to tell me more about his company's operation.

"My managers work four long days and are off two days. We move them around, with one exception, and that creates a scheduling nightmare. But I pay them well. That keeps them happy. I can't remember the last time one of my managers missed an assigned shift."

I wondered what the one exception was, but didn't ask. He seemed to be willing to tell me more and I was glad to listen.

"We serve a quality meal at the right price. My bartenders serve a damned fine cocktail, too," he said, and then turned his head to look at me. "I can't let you drink during working hours. What are you, twenty?"

"Nineteen, Sir," I said.

"You may as well know, Victor. I'd rather you hear it from me than one of my wives. I have a drinking problem."

He was looking straight ahead. I saw no need to comment, so I looked straight ahead, too. He directed me to Tuck-North and told me to drop him at the door and then park the car at the rear of the parking lot.

It was a few minutes past noon and the parking lot was filling up fast. Business must be good, I thought as I went inside. I found Tuck at the bar with a drink in his hand. He introduced me to some of the customers and the bartender. "Victor's a college student, but he's my driver for the summer."

During the two hours we were there, I was introduced to other customers, most of the staff and the manager. Eric was a big guy, tall and heavyset. His hands were enormous. "Are you still going to marry my daughter, Eric?" Tuck asked, laughing.

"I plan on marrying her if she doesn't kick me out of the apartment, Dad," Eric said.

Eric asked us if we wanted something to eat. I said "Yes," and a waitress brought me a sandwich a few minutes later. Tuck declined the offer.

We stayed in the bar until two P.M. when Tuck was ready to leave. He told me to drop him off at his house. "Did you keep track of how many drinks I had, Victor?"

"No, Sir."

"Good. Don't make a habit of it either."

"I won't, Sir."

"Give this to Liz," he said, handing me an envelope.

I wasn't sure who Liz was, but it had to be Mrs. Tucker. She took the envelope when I handed it to her. "How much did he drink?" she asked.

"I didn't keep track, ma'am."

Mrs. Tucker's eyes were like daggers. I stared back at her, wondering if she ever smiled. If it were not for her sour mood, she would have been an attractive lady. She was dressed in a smart, business suit and she had a nice figure. "I'll expect you to count his drinks from now on," she said, walking away from me before I had a chance to tell her I would comply.

Which one was I going to obey? The witch must have known her husband ordered me not to keep track of how many drinks he had. I went back to my job of rearranging the downstairs storeroom until quitting time. At six-fifteen, the upstairs was locked and Mrs. Tucker told me to drive her home. She rode in the backseat, without talking until I parked in front of the garage.

"Clean this car. It's filthy, inside and out," Mrs. Tucker said as she was getting out of the car.

A black lady came out and introduced herself to me. "I'm Melina, but everyone calls me Missy. I'll show you to the cottage," she offered. I got my luggage out of the back of the car and we walked past a swimming pool on the right. I tried to get Missy to tell me about our employers, but she wouldn't answer my questions.

"This is it," she said, stopping in front of the cottage. "I'll bring you something to eat after awhile," she offered.

"No rush. I have to wash the car," I said. She nodded and turned back to the house.

The cottage was small. There was a table and four chairs, a bed, a cabinet full of towels, and a small television. The bath was the only other room.

I changed into short pants and proceeded to wash the car. I was vacuuming the inside when a small sports car came to a stop in front of the garage.

"You must be the new boy," a blond said, removing her sunglasses and inspecting my bare chest.

"I'm Victor," I said, inspecting her covered chest. She ran to the house, turning back and grinning at me before entering the back door. She must have known her short skirt got my blood pumping.

I'd finished with the car and was on my cell phone, reporting in at home when Missy knocked on the cottage door. She was there to deliver my dinner. I took the tray from her and she backed away.

"Bring the dirty dishes to the kitchen in the morning and I'll give you something to eat," she offered.

"I'm not supposed to come inside the house," I said, remembering what the witch had said.

"The back door will be unlocked. No one will know you're there but me," Missy said. I saw a hint of a grin on her thick lips. She walked away before I could ask who the blond was.

I dined alone, enjoying the dinner Missy had prepared. After eating, I watched television until I became sleepy and went to bed, enumerating the things I'd learned about the business and the strange family. I had more questions than answers.

Missy met me at the back door, took the tray and whispered, "I can't let you inside today, Mister Victor. She's almost ready to leave."

I waited by the car until Mrs. Tucker came outside. I couldn't help but watch as she walked toward the car. "What are you looking at?" she asked in a huffy voice that made me forget why I'd been admiring everything about her. I opened the back door and she got in. Neither of us said anything during the short drive to the office.

My second day passed more quickly because I knew what was expected of me. At eleven o'clock, I was ordered to pick up the boss. He came out of the house dressed the same as before and told me to drive him to the mid-town restaurant. We got there before the rush and were able to get a table for two. A lady approached our table.

"Victor, I want you to meet the mother of my daughters," Tuck said.

She was blond, stacked and lovely. "I'm wife number one," Mrs. Tucker said, smiling. "Please call me Vera."

She chatted with us for a few minutes before making the excuse that noontime customers were beginning to arrive. We ordered our lunch, ate it and said goodbye to Mrs. Tucker as we left.

I noted that, unlike the day before, Tuck didn't order anything to drink. Was it his first wife's influence that made him abstain? On the way back to company headquarters, he explained what went wrong with their marriage.

"In addition to giving me two beautiful daughters, Vera made me successful. Our problems stemmed from her being obsessed with the business. She's always been a workaholic and I became an alcoholic. We didn't mix well. I can sure pick them..." he said, intimating that Mrs. Tucker number two was also a workaholic.

Afraid I would cause trouble, I didn't comment. He had me drive him to the office. He went upstairs; I worked in the storeroom. At five-thirty, Trudy came downstairs to check on my progress. I told her I was finished and she agreed. "Tomorrow, you can work upstairs with me. You'll have two days to learn my job."

This came as a shock to me. "Where are you going?" I asked.

"I have Friday and Saturday off. You and I have to work Sunday."

"Why?" I asked, shocked that I'd be working on Sunday.

"Just to be here in case one of the restaurants needs something. It'll be fun," she said, giving me a wicked grin as she left for the day.

I drove Tuck and wife number two home. He headed for the back door to the house and I started walking toward the cottage. "Mr. Thomas," the witch called me. "Wash the Mercedes. We're going to use it tonight."

I turned, already pissed about working Sunday. "Yes, ma'am," I said, steaming.

"Make sure the inside is vacuumed," she said, already catching up with her husband at the back door.

While I was vacuuming the inside of the Mercedes the same Fiat that I'd seen the day before drove up. At least I thought it was the same car until I saw it was a different girl driving. This one was blond, but with darker hair. Also, she had Eric, the man I'd met the day before with her.

"Hi Victor," Eric said. "This is my fiancée, Caroline Tucker."

She looked small next to the big man. "It's nice to meet you, Victor," inspecting my bare chest the same way the blond had looked me over the day before. I decided they must be sisters, daughters of Tuck and Vera.

They walked to the back of the house and I finished vacuuming the Mercedes. I was in the cottage, fuming about the way I was being treated, when Missy knocked on the door. This time she came inside and set the tray of food on the table. I thanked her and sat down to have my dinner.

"They're gone," she said.

I looked up at her, uncomfortable to begin eating while she was standing over me.

"They left, all of them?" I asked to clarify what she was telling me.

She nodded, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. "You can use the pool if you want," she offered.

I studied her, wondering how to respond. "Are you going to use the pool, too?"

Missy pondered my question, shifting her weight again. "I might," she said.

"I hope you will because I'm not a very strong swimmer and I'd feel safe if you're in the pool too."

"You'd best eat your dinner before it gets cold," she said, leaving without committing to come in the pool with me or not.

I took my time eating and watching the news on TV until it got dark. Then I found a swimsuit in my luggage and went outside and jumped in the pool. I had been there about fifteen minutes when I saw Missy coming from the house. Even in the dark I could see how the two piece white suit contrasted with her ebony skin.

She eased her body into the water and came to within five feet of me. "Is that true what you said about being a weak swimmer?"

"That's right, but I feel a lot safer with you here. If I get into trouble you will have to give me mouth to mouth," I said, enjoying the nervous tension between us.

"I couldn't do that. You wouldn't want my man to become angry," she said, giggling as she closed the distance between us to two feet.

I ducked under the water and came up with my arms flapping wildly. Missy closed in on me and covered my mouth with hers. If she knew the mouth to mouth method of resuscitation, she certainly wasn't employing her skill. I kissed back, wedging my tongue between her lips.

I was working my hand under the top part of her suit when we heard a car door close, followed by three more doors closing.

"Lord Alive!" Missy whispered. "We's in the shit now."

"No, we aren't," I said, guiding her from the center of the pool to a place at the deep end where we would be out of sight. She was shaking from fright, but she didn't move my hand from her breast. I only had one free hand as I had to use the other one to support us. We listened to Tuck and wife number two say goodnight to Eric and Caroline.

I had the top piece of her suit pulled up and was fondling her breasts. Missy kept peeking over the side of the pool, seemingly oblivious to the attention I was giving her nipples. I knew, though, that she was aware of what I was doing because her nipples were like pebbles.

"My man sure would be angry if he knew what I was letting you do," Missy said, as I eased my hand inside the bottom part of her swimsuit. I felt the curly pubic hair before inserting my middle finger into her pussy, only to the first knuckle.

I'd had some experiences at school, but never with a black girl before. I liked the way she opened her legs to give me access to the soft, almost mushy, inside of her pussy. My cock was hard and pressing against the cheeks of her ass. I was trying to think of a way to turn her to face me so I could fuck her when she exclaimed. "They're locking the door!"

"You didn't bring a key with you?" I asked, knowing how dumb I must sound.

She turned to me, dislodging my finger from her pussy. She was trembling, near tears. "What can I do?" she asked.

I put my arm around her to comfort her and kissed her. She kissed back, inserting her tongue into my mouth.

"I guess you'll have to stay in my room with me," I suggested.

She kissed me again, before pulling away. "Would it be all right with you if I stayed?"

Is she crazy? Doesn't she feel my cock spearing her tummy? "I don't see as how we have an alternative, do you?"

She took a minute to consider my question. "Are you sure you don't mind?"

She was being coy and I was getting tired of her teasing. My cock was ready to blow at any second. "This way," I said, guiding her to the nearest ladder.

I watched her ass wiggle as she climbed out of the pool and tried to concentrate on not cumming. She led the way to the cottage door and I followed, like an obedient puppy. Inside, I got a towel and began drying her, removing both pieces of her swimsuit as I patted her dry.

It was dark in the room, but I could see that the curves of her body were in the right places. She was tall, with gorgeous breasts, a rounded ass, firm tummy and thighs, and abundant pubic hair. I went over her entire body a second time, kissing her lips, sucking her nipples and making sure she was dry between her legs.

"My man would be very angry if he knew I was letting you do this to me," Missy said as she took the towel and began drying me, pulling the waist of my swim trunks out so she could ease them down my legs.

I kicked my swimsuit to the side and Missy lowered herself to her knees in order to dry my inner thighs, I thought. "This is prime meat. It looks good enough to eat," she said, wrapping her hand around my cock and licking the head. Her tongue felt like sandpaper scraping the sensitive surface. She used the underside of her tongue, alternating with the rough side, making me shiver with delight.

"Careful," I tried to warn her, but I was too late. I could tell that her eyes were glowing as my cum sprayed wildly. She caught some of it between her lips, but most of it landed on her cheeks, on her tits, and some of it dropped to the floor.

I was a little dizzy, but wanted to show my gratitude. I started to use the towel to clean her. She stopped me, rubbing my cum into her skin, grinning at me as she stood up.

Still groggy, I guided her to the bed and pushed her onto her back. She caught on fast and spread her legs wide, grabbing them around the ankles to hold them open for me. I lowered my head and took a tentative lick.

Missy shrieked her approval, and this made me eager to please her. I licked rapidly, only slowing down when her praise of my technique became incoherent. One thing was for certain; Missy enjoyed receiving oral sex. For once, she wasn't saying anything about her man becoming angry if he knew what she was letting me do.

Missy must have held her legs in the air for twenty minutes while I licked her pussy and sucked on her clit. I wondered if Tuck and his wife could hear her in the big house.

She finally stopped me by letting go of her ankles and catching my head between her thighs. I felt her heels digging into my back, securing my lips to her pussy until I fought for release. We were both breathless.

"My man..."