Johnson, Johnson & Lambert

Smelling Jack's breath, beer and menthol cigarettes, Cindy did not crave a cigarette.

"You want another beer?" she asked him.

As Cindy was bringing the first platter of grilled sausages and burger patties into her mother's house, Brandon was punching his cock in and out of Dianne's blonde bush. Underneath him, Dianne felt absolutely numb. Technically, this was rape. She had not consented to this. She had not wanted this.

But she had not said 'No' either.

And taking the fat slob in her pussy was a lot better than taking him in her mouth. His entire crotch had smelled like the stagnant waters of the Atchafalaya Basin and had tasted about as foul. Then he had pumped a thick, slimy, rancid tasting substance in her mouth and refused to pull his putrid cock out of her mouth until she swallowed.

The couch groaned and creaked underneath his thrusts and Dianne wondered who would pay for the couch if he broke it.

"God damn, you have got to be the worst fuck I've ever had! Jesus Christ, bitch, fucking move, huh?" Brandon finally bellowed at her.

"Ow!" Dianne cried out as the fat slob gripped one of her nipples and twisted it ferociously.

Then he stiffened and Dianne felt Brandon's slimy semen spurt into her pussy.

"Got news for you," Brandon snarled, pulling out of her. "That pussy? It's a pussy. Every Woman I ever met has one."

"Really?" Dianne said sarcastically.

"And," Brandon said, grabbing her pretty face in his meaty paw and squeezing it, hard. "Yours ain't nothing special."

"In fact," he said, shoving her away. "Since you don't have a clue how to use it? It's damned near worthless; you got any scotch around here?"

"Don't know how..." Dianne shrieked, outraged.

"Lying on your fat ass, waiting for it to be over is not using it; now, scotch?" Brandon said.

"Fat? You got a lot of room," Dianne snarled.

"One more time, scotch?" Brandon said, snapping his fingers.

Dianne made a decision as she poured the J&B Scotch into a tumbler.

"Uh, listen, uh, what happens if I decide I want to get back together with Greg?" she asked as she brought Brandon his scotch.

"Then we drop the divorce," Brandon shrugged.

At that moment, Greg St. Charles did not know that his luck had just taken a swing for the better. At that moment, he was seated in Casa Ole restaurant, eating lunch with his mother and father.

Sam Ferran, the former head bartender, now new manager of Casa Ole restaurant, nodded in satisfaction as his four waitresses quickly and efficiently handled the Saturday crush of customers.

Linda St. Charles had not missed an opportunity to let her son know just how disappointed in she was in him. When she wasn't telling him outright how disappointed in him she was, she was glaring at him, face tightly pinched.

George St. Charles did tell his son he wasn't proud of his actions, but shrugged it off.

"Linda, good God," George said, glancing up at his wife. "You constipated? Need you a good prune juice margarita?"

"That's not funny," she snapped.

"Look, what's done is done, huh? So he screwed some little slut, get her knocked up," George said. "Glaring at him isn't going to change it, is it?"

"And how is everything?" Sam jovially asked the unhappy trio.

"Good, good," George answered for the table.

"After all the money we put down on that house she just had to have..." Linda snarled at Greg.

"We put down fifteen thousand; he'll pay it back," George corrected her.

Sam could see that this was not a happy table and quickly found a happier group to chat with.

While Greg was enduring his mother's hostility, Stephanie was smiling so much her face actually hurt. Her fears had been completely groundless. Not only did the Williams family accept her, they encouraged the relationship between her and their son, their brother.

"So what do you want to be if you grow up?" Tammy asked.

"If, huh?" Stephanie smirked, leaning against Trevor.

"Hey, maybe she could find a rich stockbroker and never have to work a day in her life," Tom suggested.

"Cleaning up after you? And your three horrible children? That's not work?" Tammy asked and clapped her hands as Kristina announced that she was awake by crying.

"Dad! You got three kids we don't know about?" Trevor asked.

"We'll heat you up a bottle; someone's got a stinky diaper," Tammy called out from the living room.

"Miss Tammy, I'll get that," Stephanie said, getting up from the table.

"No, no, we got it," Tara called back.

"Mine, I got her, you go get her bottle, Linda declared, carrying the child into the dining room.

"Fine; I get to feed her then," Tara countered as she punched numbers into the microwave.

"You don't heat..." Stephanie said.

"I know, I'm heating water," Tara replied.

"She's the baby sitter in this neighborhood," Tom assured Stephanie. "Believe me, she knows what she's doing."

"Yeah, you were right; they hate you," Trevor whispered in Stephanie's ear and she giggled.

"Stephanie, do you know how copper wire was invented?" Tom asked.

"I uh, well, no, I not really," Stephanie admitted.

"Two lawyers were fighting over a penny," Tom smiled.

"So Stephanie, please tell me you've told Trevor that red couch is the ugliest thing you've ever seen," Tara said, carrying the bottle into the dining room.

"Couch?" Stephanie asked.

"Oh! You haven't seen..." Tara asked and refused to hand the bottle to her mother.

"No, I thought he lives here," Stephanie admitted.

"We just closed her case yesterday," Trevor explained. "And I just didn't' think it'd be right, dating a client.

"Give me that bottle or so help me God..." Tammy ordered.

"Dude, are you sick?" Travis asked. "Who ever heard of a lawyer with morals?"

"So, what do you want to be if you grow up?" Stephanie asked Travis as Tammy managed to get the bottle from Tara.

"He's in his first year at U.L.D.; pre-med," Tom answered for Travis.

"And you?" Stephanie asked Tara, who was cooing at Kristina as the baby greedily sucked her bottle.

"Second year of post-graduate, Microbiology," Tara smiled. "I'll probably go into research."

Stephanie looked at the five people, mouth open in shock.

"God, I don't belong here; I'm just a waitress," she blurted out.

"What? So? The world needs good waitresses too," Tammy said, finally relinquishing the baby to Tara.

"And good Mommys," Tara agreed.

"Great Mommys," Trevor corrected. "She's a great Mommy."

"Well, that's because you're a great baby, isn't it?" Tara fussed at the baby. "Yes you are! Yes you are!"

"No, I mean, y'all are all like super geniuses and I'm, I barely got out of high school," Stephanie stuttered.

"Super geniuses?" Tammy hooted.

"Sweetheart, we're not super geniuses," Trevor gently said.

"We just had great role models," Tara said, gently patting Kristina's back.

"No, no, I kind of like that," Travis protested. "I'm a super genius."

"Hey, Super Genius, your room clean?" Tom asked.

"And we have chocolate pie, cherry pie, or apple pie; who wants what? Who wants coffee?" Tammy asked.

"Oh my goodness!" Tara cooed when Kristina gave her a resounding burp.

"Kristina said she doesn't want any, but I can have hers'," Tom said.

"You're getting a small piece of apple; it's made with that Splenda," Tammy kissed the top of Tom's head.

"I'll have that," Tara called out.

"Chocolate," both Trevor and Travis called out.

"Y'all are so rude; Stephanie's our guest and not a single one of you let her go first," Tammy fussed.

"Chocolate, if there's enough of it left after Trevor and Travis get theirs; Miss Tammy, really, I can't help?" Stephanie said.

"No, if I let you help, you'll see that I really bought the pies at Early's," Tammy laughed.

After pie and coffee, after Tammy and Tom showed Stephanie a photo album of Trevor as a 'bad' boy, after Travis left to go to a friend's house, Trevor and Stephanie prepared to leave.

"All right, where's Kristina?" Trevor asked.

"I don't know, Mom?" Tara said.

"I don't know; I thought you had her," Tammy said.

"Told you," Tom smiled.

"All right, come on, give us the baby," Trevor smiled.

"Baby? What baby? Tara, you have any idea what they're talking about?" Tammy said and grabbed at Trevor as he darted for the stairs.

"You sure you had a baby with you when you got here?" Tara asked Stephanie.

"Seriously, you two ever need a baby sitter, you just call us, okay?" Tammy smiled as Trevor came back down the stairs, holding Kristina in his arms.

"They had her in Mom's bed, completely surrounded by pillows," Trevor said as Tom, Tara, and Tammy insisted on hugging Stephanie and Kristina good-bye.

"Love you, boy," Tom kissed his son.

"Even if you are a lawyer," Tara agreed, also kissing her brother.

"Hey, hey, children's ears!" Tammy protested and kissed her son.

"So, let me see this couch your sister's talking about," Stephanie demanded as they pulled out of the driveway.

Chapter 10

Stephanie agreed with Tara; the red suede couch was one of the ugliest pieces of furniture she'd ever seen. Looking more like a bean bag on steroids, the monstrosity dwarfed the small, tidy living room. The den and kitchen and dining room were just beyond the small living room and Stephanie wrinkled her nose at the drab furniture that Trevor had in the den. The dining room table

Looked more suited for a 'first apartment' than for a grown man's home.

"Just looking at your face..." Trevor gave her an embarrassed smile.

"Trevor Anthony Williams, you have a beautiful home," Stephanie praised his modest two bedroom wooden structure. "But your furniture sucks. Hard."

She kissed him softly, looked around and shook her head.

"Please tell me the bedrooms are better," she said.

"You tell me," he said, pointing to the hallway.

"O. M. G.' were you planning on being a bachelor forever?" he heard her say as he was showing a completely disinterested Kristina the backyard she would play in, pointing through the sliding glass door.

"All right, when do I get my money?" she asked as she returned to the den and joining him at the sliding glass door.

"Vickers, Vickers and Dumas should have already posted it to the First Union account we set up for you," Trevor said.

"One room," Stephanie said, holding up a finger. "Let me do one room and you see how you like it. Okay?"

"Sweetheart, you can do all the rooms," Trevor smiled and kissed her.

"Don't tell me that; you might hate my taste," Stephanie smiled, looking around. "God, what room needs it the most?"

She walked away and a moment later, he heard her on her phone.

"O.M.G., you weren't kidding; it is hideous! No, no, I told him one room; you've been here, which, yeah,

That's what I thought too, okay, if she comes, I do get my baby back, right? Tara, quit laughing, I mean it, and I'm not kidding."

"My new best friend is coming to get me; you need to empty out your bedroom," Stephanie ordered.

"Fine, me and Kristina will..." Trevor laughed.

"Miss Tammy's coming to watch Kristina while Tara and I go to O'Neil's," Stephanie said. "You make sure that woman doesn't get anywhere near the doors with my baby, you hear?"

"Okay, seriously, what do I do with..." Trevor asked.

"Put it on the carport; O'Neil's will take it away," Stephanie assured him.

Tom, Tammy, Tara and Travis crowded into the house a moment later; Tom and Travis being pressed into helping Trevor.

"God, Trevor, please tell me you got free sunglasses with that couch," Tara smiled as she grabbed the car keys from Tom's hand.

"Love that recliner, though," Tom said.

"You should; it's yours," Trevor smiled.

"Is that where it went?" Tom asked. "All right, you ready to roll up your sleeves?"

"I am so glad Trevor asked you out," Tara enthused as they got into Tammy's BMW.

"Actually, I asked him out," Stephanie admitted.

Tom , Travis and Trevor did make fairly quick work of taking the pressboard furniture out of the bedroom while Tammy 'and Kristina' sorted through Trevor's closet, trying to tell Trevor what clothing needed to go to the landfill.

"Mom, that's my U.L.D. Sweatshirt; they're burying me in that, you hear?" Trevor smiled.

And a half hour later, Tara sent Trevor a text, telling him to get the hideous couch out of the living room.

"Hey, how y'all doing?" a large, burly black man with a shaved head asked as he and his helper wrestled a queen sized frame and headboard into the room.

"Aw, that's a cute baby; hi sugar pie," the helper smiled.

"Thanks; she's mine," Tammy said.

"Miss Tammy, she is not," Stephanie said as she came in, carrying an overnight bag and some more supplies for Kristina.

"Wait until you see what we got; you're going to love it," Tara assured her brother.

"Yeah, it really is some nice stuff," the bald headed black man said.

They were quick, efficient, and polite. While Trevor and Stephanie argued over who would tip the two men, Tom slipped them a twenty dollar bill each and thanked them for their service.

"You two can quit now; they're gone," Tom smiled.

"But all that hard work made me work up an appetite," Tammy smiled.

"What hard work?" Travis hooted.

"Hop Kim's?" Tom asked, already herding everyone to the door.

"That really is a nice couch," Trevor admitted.

"I really hope you don't mind," Stephanie said, suddenly feeling very unsure of herself.

"Look at that couch," Trevor demanded. "Looking at that couch, it make you say, 'ooh, I can't wait to put my cute little hiney on that couch'?"

"Yeah, but my hiney ain't little," Stephanie giggled.

"Then I don't mind you got that couch; I want your cute little hiney all over that couch," Trevor said and gave her a kiss, ignoring the honking horn outside.

The Williams obviously ate at Hop Kim's a lot; they knew to order four main dishes and they all sampled from the Dishes, trying a little of this and a little of that. They also made sure to get their own orders of egg rolls and their own cups of soup.

Stephanie was hemmed in the middle of the large round table. Her best friend was on her left, and her boyfriend was on her right. Normally, she would have felt boxed in, trapped, claustrophobic. Instead, she felt warm, happy. She felt like she was a part of this group.

While the Williams were eating an early supper, Cindy St. George smiled as she read the text message he just received from David Torres.

"More than half way there, my ass," she smiled. "I still need to get through today.

"One minute at a time," he responded. "Coffee?"

So Cindy St. George got to ride in the Astin-Martin a few days early.

David impressed Cindy by pulling up, and actually getting out of the car. He came up the walkway, and met Myrna and Jack, and chatted with them.

"Yeah, kind of a little gift I gave to myself when I got divorced," David admitted when Jack mentioned the sports car.

"Really? Only gift I got myself was Myrna," Jack joked.

"Mighty fine gift," David smiled. "And she doesn't require constant tune-ups either, I'll bet."

"You'd be surprised," Myrna laughed.

"Anyway, we're just running up to Jitters for coffee," David said, shook hands with Myrna and Jack, and held onto Cindy's hand as they left the house.

"Let me smell that breath," David said when he got behind the wheel of the car.

Cindy had, of course, brushed her teeth the moment David said he was picking her up, but she still felt a little funny breathing into his face.

"I just brushed," she admitted.

"Yeah, like brushing ever covered up nasty ass cigarette smell, huh?" David smiled and gave her a quick little peck on her lips. Good, good, no nasty ass cigarette smoke."

"So, is this a date or what?" Cindy demanded as the small car screamed down the street.

"I picked you up, I met the mom and dad, you breathed all over me..." David said and whipped the car around a corner.

"Breathed all over you?" Cindy screeched.

"And I got a little kiss; yeah, sounds like a date to me," David said and pulled up to Jitters Coffee shop.

"I did not breathe all over you," Cindy protested as he helped her out of the low slung automobile.

"But I'll forgive you if you give me another kiss," David hinted.

"I did not breathe all over you," Cindy said again after giving him a quick kiss.

"Oh? Then you're going to have to show me what breathing all over me looks like," David smiled as he opened the door of the coffee shop for her.

Cindy ordered her coffee like she always had, with a squirt of peppermint syrup and a squirt of raspberry syrup, and evaporated milk. David ordered a regular coffee and agreed to try evaporated milk instead of his usual half and half.

While they took their seats, Cindy noticed a woman glaring hotly at her as she moistly exited the shop. The woman appeared to be in her late thirties or early forties, very well dressed, with an attractive figure.

"That would be Sally, my ex-wife," David smiled before Cindy could ask.

"Wow, she always look so pissed off?" Cindy asked and made a face as she took a gulp of her coffee. "Oh my God! This is nothing but sugar!"

"Yeah, my taste buds totally changed when I quit smoking," David chuckled. "Let me get you another coffee; what you want?"

"Let me have a sip of yours and see," Cindy asked.

"That's much better," she agreed.

"Take it; I'll get myself another one," he smiled.

"So, why'd your ex-wife..." Cindy asked upon his return.

"That old thing of 'I don't want you, but I don't want nobody else to have you either,'" he shrugged.

Cindy St. George worked in a law office, had seen several divorces occur, and had seen the immediate aftermath. More than once, she'd had to sit and hold someone's hand as they sobbed over the loss they'd just suffered. Even the winners didn't look like they'd won anything when they left Johnson, Johnson and Lambert.

But David Torres had her laughing as he recounted his own divorce.

While David was making Cindy snort with laughter, Greg St. Charles was staring at a text message from Dianne's cell phone. He had tried, repeatedly to text her, but he had been blocked. He tried leaving messages, but again, he'd been blocked. Emails were bounced back to him.

Yet, it looked like Dianne had cooled down, was wanting to reconcile.

Of course, she was demanding that they go to counseling. And that she be allowed to select their counselor. And, no, he could not move back home just yet.

Dianne was so satisfied with herself, she almost felt like masturbating. She continued to send text messages to Greg whenever she thought of some other demand to make and continued to delete his responses.

What Greg St. Charles had to say wasn't important.

Satisfied that the balance in Dianne's world had been returned to how Dianne deserved it, Dianne fixed herself a dinner of kale salad with chick peas and nuts and berries.

As Dianne was crunching through her dinner, Trevor was in his bedroom, admiring the wrought iron headboard and footboard of his new bedroom suite. Tara had laughed about how Stephanie had tested the bed at the store.

"Your sister said these are the best; they're a hundred percent Egyptian cotton; oh! Oh, these do feel good; here, feel these," Stephanie enthused as she carried the sheets, still warm from the dryer into the bedroom.

"Tara said you tested out the bed at the store," Trevor smiled.

She blushed hotly, but smiled.

"Yeah, and she laughed at me," she admitted.

"Show me," he said.

"Okay," Stephanie agreed and kicked off her low pumps.

She got onto the bed on her knees and grabbed the rail of the footboard.

"First I did this; make sure it'd hold for doing it doggy style," she said, blushing even hotter as she shook the footboard hard.

"Holds pretty good," Trevor said, his cock getting trapped in his jeans and briefs.