All characters are adults.
Dear Reader, this series is noire. Noire is over the top, offensive crime writing. It's intended to be unpleasant and expose how life is for most people. Feral dogs probably behave better than noire characters. I suggest you leave immediately and try some erotic poetry.
*****
Life is a prison sentence you can't escape alive.
Serial killers are antisocial personalities and violent psychopaths. Antisocial means these people treat everyone as things and psychopath means 'by all means' when it comes to goals and problem solving. They use any tool they need; they're folks who know right from wrong and don't give a shit. They'll steal your purse, your heart, or your life without second thoughts or remorse. They'll eat their lunch or your's, doesn't matter to them.
My name is Marlin Kane. My first helping of life got served me when my folks died and the state tossed me in foster care. That is, I got thrown into a lion's den of assholes, perverts, and assheads. Then one day I turned eighteen and the assheads threw me out the door onto the street; this was soon after I graduated high school.
I needed money. I got a job at a bakery. The minimum wage in 1967 was a buck-forty. What I did was come to work at four in the morning and wash steel trays till the bakers stopped work about ten or eleven o'clock. Then I spent the rest of the day cleaning the equipment, scrubbing the floor, filling sugar and flour barrels, and washing hundreds of cake and bread pans. Most days I finished about six o'clock.
Fortunately I'm a big guy at six feet, six inches tall, and was three hundred pounds in those days.
I started seeing one of the bakery clerks, her name was Crystal.
Crystal was eighteen, too, and a new grad but from a different high school. Crystal was dum but wasn't like totally dum, mostly she was clueless and immature. But it don't take brains to boink, and fucking and eating was what Crystal liked to do. I kept her supplied with sweets and the pizza's we made for ourselves. After two weeks of devouring donuts and pastry you want no more of it for many years. So bakers make pizza to munch on.
Crystal had a car and drove me to my trailer where we fucked until she got knocked up. Her daddy wanted my ass so I joined the air force and got the hell outta Dodge. The air force sent me to a hot shithole in Vietnam.
What old daddy didn't know about was me fucking Crystal's mom, Crystal didn't know about it, either.
The first time we got together, Julie, Crystal's mom, wanted me to help her install some floor tile. I agreed to do it and she picked me up one day when Crystal and the husband were both working. There on the floor was a pile of tile boxes, with Julie acting frustrated at a job that hadn't even begun. She had all the right tools and stuff for the job, but had no clue where to start. So she said. She really wanted to get laid. As often as her daughter, if possible.
A woman wanting cock wants a man who gets lotsa pussy. No woman wants a guy who goes without. Plenty want virgins but none want love's losers.
I sat on the floor and read the directions printed on one of the tile boxes while Julie got down there with me, sat close, and chattered away about everything and nothing. To be honest she was a distraction but I kept my mouth shut and tried to focus on the mental math to start the tile in the exact right place. You want it symmetrical.
Julie had nice tits, they were close at hand, and more exposed than not. Julie was not drop dead gorgeous but she had her charms. She was 40 year's old and a big woman at 5'10" and 220 pounds. I thought she was sexy. She had a belly, but not lotsa rolls of fat. Her ass was plump and round and full and her legs and thighs were nice and proportional. That is, her boobs and ass carried much of her extra weight. And soon enough she jabbered to me about her size and lack of attention from her husband.
"You mind if I ask you something sorta embarrassing?" She smiled.
"Embarrassing for who?" I grinned.
"Me, Sweetie. I want your honest male opinion about something."
Uh, oh, I thought to myself. This can't be good.
"Am I too fat?"
"Too fat for what?"
"You know, too fat for men to want?"
"Depends on the man, Julie. Some men love big girls, and you're nowhere close to the size of most big women."
Julie smiled and said "You're a natural born politician."
"Lotsa men love um. Crystal is heavy."
"Yeah," she replied, "that's why I asked you. In fact, to tell yuh the truth, that's why I called you here. I can build this dumb thing myself, but I wanted to talk to a man who likes big girls," she said.
"Well, you're tall, too, Julie. But for men like me who like big women, you're attractive," I smiled.
She seemed pleased. But there was more. Her eyes betrayed a warmth. "Yuh really think so? Am I sexy?"
"I'd fuck you in a heart beat," I confessed.
"Don't flatter an old woman," she said, then shifted position a bit and leaned forward. Her abundant cleavage was more obvious than ever and I was looking down it. She knew it and showed me plenty.
I felt horny, imagining groping her chest as I'd wanted to since forever. I looked at her legs and feet, and thought about how the whole package. I had lied to her and did not usually date girls as large as Julie, but she wasn't a girl, she was a sexy woman.
"So, if you were my age, would you find me attractive?"
"I find you attractive now. And the only reason I haven't 'gone out with a mature woman yet is because I'm young, so most mature women don't mess with boys, not unless they're a teacher!" She laughed but the nervous silence returned. I tried to busy myself with the tile pieces and all, but felt her eyes boring a hole through me. I looked up and the next thing I knew she was looking at the swelling bulge in my jeans. I could not hide it and did not bother to try. She seemed pleased that my body was responding and not just my mouth.
"Well, enough of this," she said, throwing to the floor the instruction sheet she'd held tight. "Want a beer?"
"Sure," I said."
"Don't say a word to my husband!" Julie grinned.
"This new generation gets right to the point," she smiled. "So, any chance any young guys would find me desirable?"
