This is the 3
rd
chapter in the ongoing story of the Hush Money Bar, the Black Cheers. All characters involved in any sexual activity are 18 or older.
This chapter contains
interracial sex
,
bisexuality
and elements
BDSM
. If any of this does not trip your trigger, move on!
*****
Crepe streamers, balloons and the other paraphernalia of a party could not hide the fact that South Side Food Pantry was an old warehouse. Its soot streaked limestone walls sat amid the squalor of a deteriorating neighborhood. The steel mills were the lifeblood of the neighborhood. Their closing, like a vampire's bite, sucked the life out of the area.
The members of the North Shore Country Club crowd assuaged their guilt at being "haves" in an era of "have nots" by sponsoring and attending these charity events. It would provide socially significant conversation at the next dinner party.
A large white tent covered the area from the front of the warehouse across the street to the entrance to the Hush Money Bar. It extended 50' either side of the bar entrance. Neat rows of tables covered in white tablecloths lined the streets where 24 hours earlier steel-eyed police in menacing black and white squad cars rousted the homeless or did stop and frisk on the other denizens. The pervasive police presence was still there but discretely hidden. The gentry could experience the thrill of being in a slum with none of the commensurate dangers.
Gertrude Allenby moved gracefully among her guests. She stopped at tables to thank this banker or that fund manager for attending. To a person they all made the polite noises that say it was their responsibility. They thanked her for her diligence in setting it up. Most of the men took the opportunity to glance down the deep, scoop neckline of her off the rack frock. It showed enough of her substantial bosom to keep the men interested while not threatening the women. Gert knew that, like her staff that was the servers for this soiree, she was hired help.
She flinched as an awkward move reminded her of the soreness in her pussy. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as she recalled Todd fucking her on the pool table in the bar. Even drunk that was fucking hot. She shivered as she recalled his enormous cock pounding her into submission. She got moist as she recalled him licking her clean after they fucked. It was so fucking nasty! And so hot!
The smile faded as she thought about the possibility of being pregnant. Her husband was adamant about not having children. Without her husband's knowledge, she stopped using birth control. She desperately wanted a child. The ticking of her biological clock was loud enough to drown out the good angels of common sense. If this well equipped stud had knocked her up, it could make life difficult. However, the reward would be worth it. She realized she meant it when, in the throes of passion, she said she was Todd's bitch.
***
Antoinette Chalmers and Celeste Abernathy sat at the dingy black painted bar. This was an adventure for them and they were enjoying it. They were both openly flirting with the tall handsome Black bartender. Neither of them had a fetish about Black cock. Still, it added a kinkiness to cross the color line. They were well over the line that separated propriety from pandering. The very potent vodka martinis provided them with liquid courage.
Antoinette Chalmers needed less liquid courage than her lifelong friend did. She was a cougar. A t 43, excess defined her life. She drank too much. And ate too much. She had fucked her way through three husbands and countless affairs. Sex to her was like dope to an addict. The craving was always there. The itch had to be scratched.
She was definitely not model material. She had to work hard at the gym to round the excess pounds into a reasonable approximation of curvaceous feminine pulchritude. If you liked Rubenesque women with few sexual limits, she was your girl. Judicious exercise and various surgical techniques gave her a reasonable curviness. She also knew that her wealth improved her looks. She paid for her young lovers just as she paid for everything else.
Celeste Abernathy was a more discrete but no less a cougar then her friend. She was in a sexless marriage. She and her husband had a tacit agreement to maintain at least the appearances of propriety. The young Black bartender had her tail figuratively wagging. He looked delicious.
"Tell me about yourself Toddy."
"Not much to tell, Mrs. Chalmers. I'm new in town. I was lucky enough to meet Annabelle and land this job."
Annabelle caught bits and pieces of the conversation. She ruefully shook her head. Those two fat old white bitches were actually propositioning Todd at the bar.
"Do you have...other talents?"
Todd smiled. He knew exactly where this conversation was going.
"Why Mrs. Chalmers, whatever are you talking about?"
At that moment, John Carroll walked into the bar. He was resplendent in a gray tuxedo with white lapels with gold trimming. The stripe down the side of the pants was also white and trimmed in gold. He looked for all the world like a Black Liberace.
"Antoinette, it's time for the presentation."
"In a minute John,"
Antoinette reached into her clutch purse and extracted a personal card. She slid the card across the bar. She turned to follow John to the awards ceremony.
"Call me."
Todd picked up the card, glanced at it and stuck it in his pocket. He glanced at Anna who shrugged.
"Toni is so forward," Celeste tittered. She listened silently to the repartee between Toni and the bartender. Surreptiously she studied his face. He was handsome, no doubt about that. And well built. There was something about him she found interesting.
"Yes, she is," Todd laughed, "But she knows what she wants and goes after it."
The feedback squeal of the microphone announced the beginning of the presentation.
"Well, I had better go. Toni is getting the food pantry's woman of the year award."
Todd watched as Celeste stood with that overly cautious move of a drunk. Her full skirt swished across broad her mature hips. Unlike Antoinette, she exercised to keep her 5' 8", 170 pound body at least reasonably tight. She was comfortable with her body.
She placed one hand on the back of the stool for balance. She knew Todd was watching her. She wondered if it was the low cut of the evening gown. It showed off the substantial cleavage created by her 36C bosom. Or was he an ass man?
"Mmmm, where do you live, Todd?"
Todd gave a thumbs up gesture. "Upstairs."
Celeste's eyes flicked quickly to Annabelle and back to Todd. "Alone?"
Annabelle's eyes rolled to the ceiling.
"Yes." Todd smiled.
Celeste smiled, turned and walked carefully out of the bar.
"Is there anything that will inoculate you against your jungle fever," Anna teased.
"I was just being a good bartender," Todd said, smiling.
"Boy, I told you when we first met, you should keep that thing in your pants."
"And then you proceeded to pull it out," Todd laughed.
