Finding A Fresh Violet

"Brent, out, now," Dr. Istrey ordered.

"Keep coming back," Paul chuckled.

"Fuck you; I get out, I'll be looking for your ass," Brent spat.

"Member of the Fifth Tradition Group," Paul calmly said. "Can't wait to see you at our meetings."

"Ain't no difference between Meth and akahall; a drug is a drug is a drug, right? Why I can't talk about Meth?" A belligerent girl demanded.

"If there's no difference, then why is there a CMA meeting here on Tuesdays?" Mitch patiently asked. "You may not be able to see it right now, but believe me, in time you will."

"Y'all just a bunch of racist mother fuckers," the black girl snarled.

"Tuwhanna, out, now," Dr. Amber again ordered a patient. "Rose will be in your room in a minute to talk with you."

At nine o'clock, the three men and nine patients that still remained in the great room held hands and recited the Lord's Prayer.

"Dennis, I know you graduated from here, and I really appreciate you wanting to give back, but this is the last meeting I'm putting up with," Mitch said as the three men stood in the parking lot.

"I understand," Dennis said sadly. "I just know it meant a lot to me when y'all would come in and carry the message to us when I was here."

"Fuck, I'll be back; this shit's cheaper than cable any day," Paul smiled.

"And you; how old was that girl, huh?" Mitch demanded, slapping the shirt pocket where a scrap of paper crinkled.

"Hey, Mitch, you're my AA sponsor, huh?" Paul said defensively. "Not my relationship sponsor."

"I'm your sponsor. Period. Alcoholism is a disease of the mind, body, spirit, and your little Mr. Happy. You keep thinking with your dick, Paul, it's going to get you drunk. Or dead, or both," Mitch spat.

Dennis pulled up to Chuck and smiled as a happy Violet waved through the plate glass window at him. April looked up from her phone long enough to nod in his direction, then resumed her thumb dance on the phone's touch screen.

Moments after the last customers left the building; Violet bounded into his car and hugged him tightly.

"Hey," he smiled when she released him. "Need to go to your place or..."

In answer, Violet held up a small bag.

"Oh, your friend? Paul, that's the one thinks he's funny, right?" Violet asked. "He stopped by had dinner."

"Oh?" Dennis asked, jealousy popping up.

Paul was not above trying to steal another man's girlfriend, or wife. And being slightly younger than Dennis, and being a better dresser, and having wittier patter, Dennis was slightly worried.

"Yeah, spent the whole time aggravating April," Violet said.

"Who?" Dennis asked.

"My manager, remember? But tomorrow? I'm the one that's going to need to get dressed and go to work; we're open from eleven to three," Violet told him. "We get that church crowd right after they get out. You know what their favorite burger is?"

"The Walk on Water Chuck?" Dennis asked.

"No," Violet giggled, playfully slapping his arm. "We don't have that! It's the turkey burger. Believe that? They all get the turkey burger, quarter pound."

She leaned over the console to whisper, "They're all at least a hundred pounds overweight; like any of us believe they're all healthy and shit."

"Got to start somewhere," Dennis smiled as he parked in front of his apartment building.

Their progress was slowed by having to stop and kiss several times, but they did finally reach his apartment.

"I need a shower; I smell like burgers," Violet claimed, making a bee line for his bathroom.

"Need help?" Dennis joked.

"Ooh, yeah, you can get my back," Violet said.

Dennis's shower was not intended for two to share, especially if one of those struggled with a weight problem. She still smelled like burgers when they finished. But Violet's breasts, pubic mound, and buttocks smelled of Dennis's manly soap.

"Need to bring some of my soap and shampoo; you're sucks," Violet said as Dennis toweled her off.

Oh yeah?" he smiled as she used one of his nearly threadbare towels to dry him off.

"And how old are these towels, huh?" she complained. "My ass doesn't need to be any drier, all right?"

"You sure?" Dennis asked, playing with her plump backside. "We got it pretty wet in there."

"Yes I'm sure," she giggled and kissed him.

She hugged him and put her head on his chest.

"Love you so much," she enthused, then looked up at him expectantly.

"Crazy about you," he smiled and kissed her.

"Crazy because of you," he muttered playfully and she gasped in mock outrage.

An electric hair dryer was added to the list of items Violet claimed she'd have to bring to Dennis's apartment. She came out of his bathroom, a third towel wrapped around her long strawberry blonde hair, turban style.

The turban fell off as he grabbed her and pulled her onto the bed.

She complained for a half a second until his mouth glued itself to her quite wet pussy.

She then looked puzzled, but finally understood that Dennis was trying to twist her into a 'sixty nine' position. Because she was slightly shorter than him, he had to crane his neck to reach her pussy. The next door neighbor didn't know it, but he would have been grateful to know that Violet's screams and moans were muffled because of the fat cock in her mouth.

She screamed and gurgled as Dennis pumped a hot load of his semen into her throat, almost choking as her third orgasm rippled through her.

"Hey, uh, why I got to do all the work, huh?" Dennis playfully complained as he again twisted her around.

"What?" Violet shrieked and slapped his muscular chest. "I'm the one doing all..."

She got the hint and squatted over his erection, then sank down, pulling his fat cock into her very wet pussy.

Dennis watched as more and more of his length disappeared into her strawberry blonde muff. He then smiled at her facial expression; she was concentrating on what her pussy was doing, what her pussy was feeling.

She grabbed a pillow and placed it over her own mouth and screamed in orgasm when he played with her clitoris.

When she pushed that hand away, he began playing with her pudgy buttocks.

"Oh!" she shuddered as he insinuated a slimy finger into her anus.

"Like my ass, huh?" she asked as he fucked two fingers in and out of her rectum.

"Love your ass; going to fuck that ass one of these days," he responded.

"Nuh uh!" Violet protested lightly. "You're not sticking that big old thing up my ass!"

She squealed when he suddenly rolled her onto her back and began pounding in and out of her.

"Uh!" she grunted into her pillow as another orgasm welled up.

Then he stiffened and pumped her pussy full of his semen.

In the morning, Dennis again was struck by how young, how innocent Violet looked as she slumbered.

While he cooked eggs, and tried valiantly not to burn the toast, Violet used his shower.

"God, why you buy such cheap ass shampoo?" Violet complained lightly as she came out, of his bathroom, nude except for the towel around her long hair.

"Because my ex-wife tried her best to leave me penniless," Dennis said easily as he finished buttering his own toast.

"How long you been divorced?" she asked as she ate most of her eggs in one mouthful.

"Fifth of next month, unless Kimberly suddenly pops up and tries to fight it," Dennis said.

"You're... I'm sleeping with a married man?" Violet squeaked, eyes wide.

"You heathen! You sinner!" Dennis playfully admonished.

"Oh, I am! I'm a terrible heathen!" Violet claimed, spreading her plump legs, showing him her patch of hair and the inner pink lips.

"Good girls go to Heaven," Dennis said. "Bad girls go everywhere else."

"Well, this bad girl has...." Violet checked her wristwatch. "About three hours until she has to be at work, so I'm going back to bed."

She put her empty plate into the sink and waggled her ass as she walked to the door of the kitchen/dining room.

"Coming?" she asked and walked to the bedroom.

Dennis quickly finished his own breakfast then scampered into the bedroom.

They did 'sixty nine' again until he'd ejaculated into her mouth and she'd wet his face with her own spending. Then he put her on her knees and pounded her hard and fast until she begged him to stop.

Then he lay next to her and entered her pussy while they lay on their sides, facing each other.

"Wait a minute!" she exclaimed. "If I'm a heathen for fucking a married man, what's that make you? You're fucking someone you're not even married to!"

"Oh, it makes me a poor innocent little lamb, led astray by this horrible, evil heathen," he said seriously.

"Oh, okay, bye," she said and tried to move away from him.

He laughed and held her tight, then rolled on top of her, pinning her to the bed.

She had to take a second shower and complained about his lack of a hair drier as he drove her to work.

"I'll be back to pick you up, okay?" he said as she got out of his car.

A trip to the Wal-Mart in Breaux Bridge sold him a hair drier and four big fluffy towels and four fluffy washcloths.

He also decided enough was enough; it was time to throw away the broken toaster and buy a new one.

If the cashier thought anything of the assortment of his purchases, she didn't comment, just made idle chatter about some sporting event she'd watched on television.

His new towels were barely dry when Dennis realized he'd be late picking up his girlfriend so they were flung onto the couch and he raced for the stairs.

"I was starting to think you'd forgotten about me," Violet playfully pouted when he pulled up.

"You? Never," he smiled. "But I was afraid, if I came to pick you up, you might be evil again and lead me astray."

"Oh God, please!" she rolled her eyes. "I've had about all the preaching I can stand! All those holy rollers trying to make me come to their church. Oh, and your buddy popped up again."

"Okay, where to?" he asked.

"Uh, home? Where else?" Violet said, putting her hand on his crotch.

****

Again, Carter picked up a white chip, promising that he was serious about his sobriety this time. Brent didn't want to, but with urging from Paul, he went over and told Carter he was Carter's new sponsor.

"So uh, where we going to eat?" Carter asked Paul, slightly rankled that Paul had passed him off to another sponsor.

"We don't have a choice," David laughed. "We don't go across the street; Dennis and Paul get in deep shit."

"What? Why? I don't want one of them greasy ass burgers," Carter complained.

"Then you and your sponsor can go to Casa Ole," Paul shrugged.

"Hey!" Violet called out as the six men trooped in.

"Hey, where's Fast Fingers?" Paul asked.

"Shut up, Paul; I'm right here," April said, coming out of the employees' bathroom.

"And how many times I got to tell you, don't fucking text me when I'm in my meetings, huh?" Paul asked, kissing the girl.

"Fuck you; who's the dumb ass keeps texting me back, huh?" she smiled and playfully pinched his rear.

"That's it; we're going to Jade Garden; service's much better there," Paul said.

"Oh, your ass!" April hooted. "You forget? That's my aunt, ass hole."

She put a scowl on her face.

"What you want? No special order, no separate check, you ready order?" she barked out a perfect imitation of the surly waitress.

"Paul, why you haven't got down on your knees and begged this girl marries you yet, huh?" Mitch laughed.

"You crazy man, I know marry him, he too much trouble, you ready order?" April barked out, still imitating her aunt.

Water, coke, unsweetened iced tea, diet coke, sprite, hey root beer, good to see you," Violet said, already putting the drinks down on the table for them.

When the burgers came, April and Violet also joined hands with the six men and prayed.

"How was it?" Violet said, leaning over Dennis's chair as he finished the last bite of his Tropical Chuck.

"Eh, it was all right," he shrugged.

"I hate you," Violet laughed and kissed him. "That's what I'm going to say next Saturday, you hear? Eh, it was all right."

"What? What's next Saturday?" Carter asked.

"The wedding," Violet said, showing off a simple half carat engagement ring.

THE END

**Author's Note: I write these stories for my pleasure; I post them here for your enjoyment.

Thank you for reading my stories.

Disclaimers. Yes I need an Editor, yes, it was too long, yes it jumps around too much, yes there's too many people to keep track of, yes it's in the wrong category, yes this is stupid shit and yes I suck.

Also, please note; I do not read any emails. If I could figure out how to turn that feature off, I would. The emails are usually so full of hatred and venom it really makes me wonder why anyone would take the time to write the email in the first place. You hate my stories and hate me that much, don't read them. It really is as simple as that.

To those that take the time to post comments, thanks. Thanks for your constructive criticisms, thanks for ranking my stories.

Have a most exuberant day.