Jake Daley rang the bell and looked around him, not at ease in this poor and desolate neighborhood. He hoped Samantha Dyer would open the door soon.
Since a month her mother worked for Daley Luxury Furniture on a temporary base. Her first decent job in years, she'd told him, she'll do anything to keep it. Her husband left soon after the kid was born. From then on the small family went from one hardship to another.
She told Jake also that her daughter was a rather good athlete, having won numerous championships the last four years. Samantha had the ambition of becoming a professional, but lacked the proper financial backup needed to launch a career. In fact her mother asked him a couple of days ago if there was a change of acquiring a sponsorship from the firm, just as the local soccer team and some young tennis players had.
He had answered he would give the matter thorough consideration, after talking with the board of directors. Of course, he told her not about the kind of consideration he would give it.
She and her daughter would soon enough find out.
Samantha Dyer opened the door in one swift movement. The big smile on her face faded quickly in a look of surprise. Did she expect somebody else? A boyfriend maybe?
He gazed at a shapely-formed eighteen year old Afro-American lady, obviously in excellent shape on all counts. She had short-cropped hair, fleshy lips and big brows eyes. She had a nice pair of tits, not big, but firm and pointed. Just the way he liked them. More than a handful is wasteful, he used to say. He was sure she wore no bra. Her nipples were straining against a yellow T-shirt a size to small. Nice ass also, he thought, nicely molded by a pair of tight fitting jeans.
"Good morning young lady," he said, "My name is Jake Daley, I'm a co-owner and the director of personnel of the factory where your mother works. I think you must be Samantha, isn't it? May I come in?"
She didn't smile back and blocked the door instead.
"My mother is not here. Isn't she at the factory?"
There was a suspicious edge to her voice.
"Yes, of course she is. But I'm here for you. I'd like to talk about your sports career. Your mother asked if our firm could help you. And it's about this I want to talk about, among other things."
He had her full attention now. She looked past him at his expensive Jaguar parked before the door. That, and his immaculate Armani suit, convinced her that he was who he said he was. Her hesitation melted away.
"Come in," she opened the door, "You understand one must be careful in this neighborhood."
"Of course."
"Normally, I wouldn't even have opened for you, but I thought it was my classmate ringing. She phoned me she'll come along this afternoon. She has to bring a textbook back she lent last week."
Jake Daley slipped past her, inhaling the scent of cheap perfume.
"You think my car is safe there?"
"Well, yes. Nothing happens here during the day. There's a patrol car every twenty minutes, at least during daylight," she answered, "Go straight ahead please."
He knew very well the atmosphere of this kind of houses. They breathed poverty and decay, thwarted ambitions and people who are seldom able to make the ends meet every month. Women were mostly single mothers and never in a comfortable situation. Children costs lots of money, especially if one has the desire -- or the illusion -- to give them a better future.
You must work hard and keep working. You must be willing to do many things to achieve your goals, even the most unpleasant, even if they gnaw at your self-respect.
If Jake enlisted someone from this side of town, he knew he could ask favors. And he nearly always did.
Many women from the surroundings, mostly blacks or Latinas, but also Caucasians and Asians, earned their contract with their legs open for him.
And now he has planned to have two for the price of one.
Samantha invited him in the living-room. The dinner table was littered with papers and schoolbooks. He sank down in the worn-out couch in front of the TV. He declined an offer for some coffee. After fetching herself a glass of soda Samantha sat down beside him, hesitantly, making sure there was the greatest possible distance between them.
"I can't think why you should see me. Is it really about the sponsoring? Are you sure there are no problems with mum?" she asked.
"Well, yes and no. And they need sorting out first... Five months ago two clerks went on a lengthy sick-leave. To replace them I recruited your mother and somebody else. In the meantime one of the two persons concerned has decided to stop working for us, but at the same time the other has let us know that she will come back at the beginning of next month," Jake told her, in the most sympathetic tone he could muster, "So, you understand my problem. Your mother is a good and dedicated worker, but so her colleague... They are both excellent at their job. But I have to make a choice... One of the two."
Samantha's big eyes looked anxious at him.
Jake held her gaze a moment and smiled.
"To be honest, I must say the performance of your mother is slightly below that of the other employee, also she has less experience. From an objective standpoint it isn't evident at all that your mother will stay with us and receive a permanent contract."
A short silence fell.
"Fuck, not again," Samantha cried out, a shocked look on her face, "It's always the same shit. She can't hold on to a job for more than a month."
Tears welled up in her eyes.
"We never had any money," she sobbed, "Since she worked for you we started to have a decent life at last. I could buy nice clothes, not some filthy picks from Welfare or from better off family members. We've even planned to go on holiday next summer. I dreamed of hiring a good trainer, you know they're very expensive. But that's all down the drain now."
Her distress seemed to overwhelm Jake. He bended sideways and touched her shoulder. Sizing the opportunity he shoved slowly up until he sat next to her.
"Come on girl, calm down," he soothed, "I didn't say I'll fire her, only that I have to make a decision. I'm here to find out what's best for all of you. So calm down, wipe your tears... Then we can discuss and possibly come to an agreement."
This was going better than he ever thought. Jake jubilated inwardly, but outwardly he became a concerned paternal figure. Only the growing bulge in his pants could betray him. He offered her a paper handkerchief. She wiped her eyes and then blew loudly her nose. He took her arm in his left hand and pulled her gently towards him, while his other hand patted a shapely, muscular thigh. His fingers brushed her small right breast, a nice piece of firm black meat, soft to the touch. She didn't wear a bra, his suspicion confirmed itself.
She didn't try to push him off, but instead made an effort to smile under her tears.
"No need to be so upset," he murmured at her ear, "Tell me what's on your mind. I'd like to know it so I can find a way out of it."
"After her divorce mom has only had odd and sleazy jobs, never with a decent pay and never longer than for a couple of weeks. As a chamber maid in a hotel, as a cleaner, as a toilet lady, you name it. They were all temporary. She's really a softy, you know. People steps over her all the time, she's always in the corner where the blows fall. At the end of the month we had to be glad if the rent and the electricity was paid. More than once a good meal was a luxury. I never could buy nice clothes. In had to wear the old ones of mom or things that were given to us, not being able to go to the gym or the movies, no vacations, nothing at all."
"And your membership of the athletic club?"
"My uncle pays it. He was a good amateur in his own day... It's not even a full membership. It only gives me the right to use the premises, no coaching at all."
"If your mother is a secretary, why did she needed to do all those odd jobs?"
"Because she didn't have a diploma. The Salvation Army paid for a course in secretarial work for my mother. A neighbor arranged it. Then you recruited her."
Jake's hand was still on her thigh. In his mind he saw these muscular legs wrapped around his hips while he trusted rapidly in her tight and hot cunt. Unconsciously his fingers made circular motions. She placed her hand upon his. Her touch was soft and warm. He maneuvered himself on the sofa until he could enjoy the heath of her body and the smell of her hair. His hard cock was fighting against the restraints of his boxers shorts. His last decent fuck was already six days ago.
"Thanks to you my mother received her first decent salary. This was suddenly a happy family. At least we could make plans that weren't futile dreams. And now it's screwed up again."
Jake felt her shoulders shaking harder.
"No, it's not. I told you we'll find a solution. That's why I'm here."
Jake composed his most emphatic and friendly smile.
With both hands he takes her by the shoulders and draws her close, facing him. The T-shirt slipped off a shoulder. His hand contacted smooth black skin and boldly traveled to the nape of her neck. Meanwhile his eyes feasted on her small tits in their generous cleavage. Samantha didn't push him away, but she held close to him and lodged her head against his chest. Her breath and her moist lips brushing past his ear had an electrifying effect on him. He had to muster all his self-restraint not to rip the garment off.
He rubbed her cheek and tried to kiss her, but she avoided him and tried to push him away.
"Come on, don't be shy," he said, trying to hide his irritation, "Be nice and you'll do yourself and your mom a big service. There's much at stake, you know."
