*Author's Note: Any and all persons engaging in any sexual activity are at least eighteen years of age.
Chapter 5
Julie smirked; it was nine thirty on a Wednesday and both Andrea and Kasie were going strong. She wasn't sure, but she could swear she heard Frank's heavy step coming up the stairs.
Sure enough, a moment later, he knocked on the door.
"Hi Mister Frank," Andrea greeted him, looking up from her coloring book.
"Sorry," Julie lied. "They went to Chucky Cheese with their grandmother and she let them both have Cokes with their dinner. It'll be hours before I can get them down."
She had been the one to give both girls the sugary sweet sodas; her mother had fussed about it to Julie, but Julie just smiled a secretive smile.
"That's fine," Frank smiled at Julie, and then nodded with his head toward the door. "Come see a minute?"
"Mommy will be right back; y'all don't get into nothing while I'm gone, all right?" she said and stepped out onto the concrete landing.
"Listen, cunt, Wednesday night is supposed to be my night," Frank angrily hissed, meaty paw squeezing Julie's right breast.
Julie's eyes nearly popped out of her head from the force of his grip.
"You fucking understand me?" he hissed, tightening his grip even more. "Huh? I don't know what kind of little game you think you're playing with me, but it's not going to work, hears?"
"Yes sir," she managed to gasp out, eyes watering from the pain.
"Them games might have worked with your husband," he said, twisting the breast in his grip. "But take a good look; I ain't your husband. I'm not going to put up with that kind of shit from some dumb ass whore."
"Yes sir," Julie whispered, sinking to her knees from his savage twist to her breast.
"Now, I'm coming back tomorrow night, hear? Tomorrow night and them kids better be in bed and you better be ready to entertain me, hear?" Frank asked and released her breast.
"Yes sir," Julie gasped out, new waves of pain stabbing through her flesh as the blood rushed in.
The next evening Frank was unsympathetic when Julie showed him the bruises his fingers had inflicted on her flesh.
"Let me tell you something," he said, easing his bulk down on her couch. "You try playing that shit on me again; it'll be the last time. I'll go get a bunch of day laborers and have your ass out on the sidewalk before you can even shit."
"You would..." Julie asked.
"In a heartbeat," he promised.
****
Julie lay on the couch; legs spread, and looked at the wall as Frank pounded his fat cock in and out of her.
"Sit up," Frank said suddenly, pulling his cock out of her slimy pussy with a 'pop.'
"Open wide," Frank said as he stood up.
Julie did and he pulled the condom off and began stroking his cock.
Here... It... Uh... Comes!" Frank wheezed and sends his semen spattering onto her face. He even managed to get a few strands into her hair, and then he casually wiped his cock across her face and shoved it into her open mouth.
"See you next week," he grunted after he had gotten dressed.
She didn't respond, just scurried to the bathroom.
She finished another fifth of vodka but couldn't drown her shame.
****
Wednesday night, she made sure that both Andrea and Kasie were in bed before nine o'clock. She debated whether or not she had time for a drink before he got there, but just as she reached for the bottle, his knock came.
He was gentle, asking her questions about the children, about any expenses she had incurred since the previous week, whether or not she'd heard from Mike. Then they shed their clothes and she flopped on her back.
"Got any, yeah, here we are," Frank muttered and pulled out her bottle of vegetable oil.
"What you need that for?" Julie asked, mildly interested.
Then she thought about it for a minute.
"Oh, no! You ain't sticking that thing up my ass!" she protested.
"Four hundred a month rent, a hundred utilities, another fifty bucks for cable, fifty for that telephone?" Frank asked, coating his cock with a handful of oil. "I can put my cock anywhere I want to."
He approached her, pushed her back onto her back, and then kicked a knee up onto the couch.
"Push them tits together for me," he ordered, wrapping them around his cock.
Julie strained her head, watching as he slowly fucked his cock between her two flabby breasts.
"Lick it when it comes out," Frank ordered and Julie strained to get her tongue to reach the cock head.
"Aw fuck yeah," he grunted and spewed his semen onto her chin and neck and breasts.
"Get yourself cleaned up then get your ass back here; we need to talk," Frank said, wiping his cock on her belly.
She ran to the bathroom and used a face cloth to clean her greasy breasts, neck and chin.
When she returned to the living room, he was already dressed and was sitting on the good cushion, the one that didn't have a spring threatening to pop through.
"Sit down, we need to talk," he ordered.
She perched herself on the edge of the couch, avoiding the spring.
"You're a whore," he began.
She wanted to argue but clamped her mouth shut.
"And not a very good one either," he went on.
She clenched her jaws and her fists tightly.
"Ever hear of the 'girlfriend experience?'" Frank asked her. "Know why it's not called the 'wife experience?' Because no one in their right mind would pay for the wife experience. A girlfriend gets herself dressed up, puts on make up, and tries to look nice for her man. A girlfriend does whatever the fuck she can to make her man feel good."
He smirked at her puzzled face.
"A wife doesn't even bother shaving her legs; why should she? She's got her man. She thinks she can just flop on her back maybe once a week and that should be good enough for him. Then she gets all bitchy when he's had enough of her shit and gets herself the best fucking lawyer she can, hoping, even in a No Fault State like Louisiana, that she'll bleed the mother fucker dry," he went on.
"You; I'm paying you for the girlfriend experience but I'm getting the wife experience," he said. "Fuck, look at you; ever hear of putting on a little make up? Huh? Ever think maybe you might want to maybe get a little dressed up? Think maybe you ought to be a little more active, rather than just flopping on your fat ass and saying 'come on, get it over with.' Huh?"
She opened her mouth, and then closed it, having nothing to say.
"That thing between your legs? Guess what, Sweetheart? It ain't made out of gold; it's made out of flesh, just like every other twat in the world," he said. "And guess what? It ain't magic either; it's human."
He got to his feet.
"Honey, I know you don't want to be a whore; well tough shit, you are, get over it," he coughed, reaching for a cigarette.
He shook one out, then put it back into the pack.
"You know the girl downstairs?" he asked. "Tori?"
She shook her head no.
"Of course you don't," he sneered. "Fuck if you could bother to be interested in anything outside of yourself, huh?"
He smirked as she shifted her bulk to the other cushion, away from the offending spring.
"Anyway, she's a whore too," he said. "Ever wonder where I go after I leave here?"
"I um, I just thought you went home," she admitted.
"Fuck, I get here at nine; I don't leave here until one, two o'clock in the morning," he growled. "Tori make sure I stay. She don't act like she's doing me a favor; she acts like I'm doing her the favor. She don't act like sunshine leaks out of her box; she acts like sunshine comes out of my cock."
He again shook a cigarette out and put it between his lips.
"She takes the time to clean herself up, puts on a little make up, even gets dressed up; knows I got a thing for them garter belt things?" Frank said, lighting the cigarette. "Fixes me a drink; got a fifth of Johnny Walker Black, fixes me a drink, takes my shoes and socks off, rubs my feet, makes love to my feet while I have my drink."
He opened the door.
"You need to take the time, go downstairs, get to know her, get a few lessons from her; think of it as 'Whore one oh one' or something," Frank said and stepped out, blowing a stream of cigarette smoke. "And she's got a little girl too; just turned five. Do Andrea some good to have a little friend she can play with, even if y'all are just whores."
****
"And is she real nice, Mommy?" Andrea was asking as she skipped along her mother.
"Damn, Andrea, I don't know; I never met her," Julie snapped. "
She wanted a drink; there had been less than half the fifth of vodka; that was gone in three drinks.
Franks words still burned her ears; 'even if y'all are just whores.'
She paused in front of Apartment 2, the apartment right underneath her own, steeled herself, and then knocked on the door.
A moment later, an attractive young woman opened the door.
Her hair was black, long, hanging down to the middle of her back. She wore it parted on the right, letting it fall in front of the left side of her round face.
Her eyes were chocolate brown, large, open slightly in surprise.
Her skin was light brown, the color of caramel.
She stood, slightly taller than Julie, but was considerably slimmer than the bloated Julie. Her breasts appeared to be large behind a crisp linen blouse, her waist looked narrow, and her hips flared out very nicely. Her shorts were black, seeming to accent the light brown of her thighs and calves.
"Hi, I'm um, I'm..." Julie said.
"Oh, I KNOW who you are," the woman hissed hatefully. "Little Miss Julie 'my shit don't stink' Vogel."
Julie stared in shock at the stranger.
"I um, well, it's um, it's Chamblee now, do I know you?" she stammered.
"You don't remember me, huh? Well, I sure as fuck remember you, bitch," the woman snarled. "EW, Miss Bonham, why I got to sit behind an ugly n*gger? EW, Miss Bonham, I should be sitting in front of her; I'm smarter than some stupid n*gger! Remember any of that?"
Julie covered her mouth with her free hand.
"That's right, Victoria Underhill," the woman spat. Miss Bonham made us sit in alphabetical order and you pitched a fit. Had to put up with that shit the whole fucking fourth grade."
"Victoria, I am so, so sorry!" Julie whispered, still in shock.
"Sorry?" Tori laughed bitterly. "I went home every day, crying my ass off and you're sorry?"
"Victoria, I, what else can I say?" Julie stammered.
"You can take your fat white ass on the fuck away from..." Tori yelled.
Julie felt Andrea clutching her leg.
"I will," Julie promised. "I will take my fat ass some place else, but my daughter, Mr. Frank, he said you have a daughter; this is Andrea, I was hoping..."
Tori looked down into the frightened face of a smaller version of Julie.
