Johnson, Johnson & Lambert

"Then I did this," Stephanie said and turned to grab the headboard railing. "Had to make sure it'd hold for when I was riding you cowgirl."

.Then she flopped on her back, grabbed the headboard again, then spread her legs wide and stuck her feet against the railing.

And if I've been a very bad girl and you need to tie me up so you can spank me," she suggested.

"And have you been a bad girl?" Trevor asked, voice strangled.

"No," Stephanie smiled, shaking her head no as she lowered her feet back to the bed.

"No, Baby, I've been a very good girl," she said, crawling over to him.

She kissed him softly.

"Yes, you've been a very good girl," he agreed.

"Now, come on, let's make the..." she said then smirked as Kristina let a cry escape.

"Well, you can make the bed while I get Miss Kristina her bottle and change her diaper," she said. "See? If you'd had clean sheets? We'd already be finished. Now you just have to wait."

"You mean, you'd be finished," Trevor bragged as he began to put the sheets on the bed. "I'd still be just getting started."

"Oh ho, baby, don't let your mouth write no checks your ass can't cash," her giggle floated down the hall.

Chapter 11

"Well, you're in a good mood," Frances DeSalvo said as she carried her briefcase through the lobby.

"Got a date in..." Cindy looked at her cheap wrist watch. "About three hours."

"Oh boy!" Frances smiled.

"Yeah!" Cindy enthused, stretching her hands above her head and bouncing in her seat like a child. "Been a whole week without any cigarettes and David's taking me out to celebrate!" Cindy laughed happily.

"And what about pot?" Brandon Johnson sneered as he struggled into his suit jacket.

"Eight, almost nine months; remember? I passed the last two piss tests," Cindy snapped angrily as Brandon opened the glass door of the office.

"Don't listen to him; he's such an ass hole," Frances encouraged Cindy. "But a whole week? That's terrific."

She walked to the glass door.

"I wish my momma had quit when she could," Frances said. "Got only one lung, on oxygen, and still

Sneaks a smoke whenever her nurse isn't around. Believe that?"

"Wow, doesn't even wait until five o'clock anymore," Parker sneered as he watched Frances drive out of the lot.

"Think she and Brandon had a meeting; he left right before her," Cindy lied, knowing they did not have a meeting.

"Huh? Oh? Oh, okay, then," Parker conceded.

While Cindy was watching the second hand on her cheap watch tick off the seconds until she could see David Torres again, Dianne St. Charles was sitting in Sylvia Hooperstein's comfortable office, seething with rage.

"And how much more of this bullshit are we going to have to listen to?" she finally interrupted Greg's litany of complaints.

"Dianne, Greg let you speak; he gave you more than thirty minutes," Sylvia gently corrected. "You haven't even given him five minutes."

Dianne glared raw hatred at the woman. She'd picked Sylvia Hooperstein because she recorded and watched the woman's daily broadcast on Channel 12, the local independent television station in the Greater DeGarde area. She just knew, if anyone would see her side of the marriage, it would be Sylvia, who espoused the empowerment of women on her show, 'Empowerment.'

"But all he's saying is a bunch of bull shit!" Dianne shrilled.

"Dianne, again, please let Greg have his say. Marriages are not all one sided you know," Sylvia said gently.

"Even if it's just lie after lie?" Dianne spluttered.

"I'm not lying," Greg finally spoke up. "You don't like it because you don't look too good, but I'm telling the truth and you know it."

"Well, instead of telling everyone what a cold bitch I am, why don't you tell her about you fucking around with that little slut?" Dianne hissed bitterly.

"Greg? Is that true? Were you unfaithful to..." Sylvia asked gently, but her face betrayed her displeasure with Greg St. Charles.

"Yeah, I did, and you know what? She knows how to fuck. At least she didn't just lay there and say 'what's taking you so long?' At least she didn't say 'you forgot to put the seat down, no pussy for you,'" Greg spat. "Blow jobs? Fuck yeah, Stephanie sucked dick. And fucking loved every drop of sperm I gave her."

"I think we've..." Sylvia said, looking positively disgusted.

"Know what, Dianne? Go ahead, get the divorce. Want the house? You keep the fucking house, you miserable God damned cunt. Sat here and listened to you bitch and bitch and bitch about what a piece of shit I am. Well, I'm that fucking terrible, then why the fuck would you even want to stay married to me, huh?" he snarled.

Greg stood up.

"Thank you, Dr. Hooperstein; I seriously doubt if I'll ever see you again but have a nice day," Greg spat.

"But..." Dianne spluttered, shocked.

"Attorney is Nicole Banks; with Coutre and Associates," Greg said, opening the door of the office. "You got anything to say to me? Do it through her. Don't text me, don't call me, and don't email me. Bye."

Sylvia was grateful Greg St. Charles did not slam the door; the spring was broken from another client yanking the door too hard.

She looked at Dianne and was surprised to see that Dianne St. Charles looked terrified.

"He was grossly unfaithful to you," Sylvia quietly reminded her client.

Dianne rushed out of the office to see if she could stop Greg from leaving. Through the glass door of the reception area, though, she could see that she was too late. His work truck was already pulling out into traffic.

"Ma'am?" Marnie Vogel, Sylvia's receptionist held out the invoice for that session.

"Great," Dianne sighed and pulled out her American Express to pay for the session.

"I'm sorry, ma'am, Master Card, or Visa; we're not set up to take American Express," Marnie apologized.

Dianne pulled out the Master Card and hoped that Greg had not cancelled the account.

While Dianne held her breath to see if the charge went through, Trevor Williams was preparing to leave his new office. Ethel Youngblood, the receptionist looked up and smiled as he paused to look at the nameplate next to his office door.

"It hasn't been taken down since yesterday," she joked.

"I sent Stephanie a picture of that," he said, still looking at the nameplate. "It's her screen saver."

"Of course it is; she's proud of her man," Ethel smiled.

"Should be," Donald Pellichet said, coming out of his office. "Hell, I'm proud of her man."

"Not bad for not being able to get us paying clients, huh?" Trevor smiled.

"Don't get too cocky, son," Donald smiled. "Like my girl Janet says, what have you done for me lately?"

Trevor drove home and groaned as he saw his sister's car in the driveway.

Trevor had discovered why Greg St. Charles was willing to jeopardize his engagement to Dianne Pratt. Stephanie was willing to do almost anything in the bedroom and did not expect reciprocation. In fact, she'd been shocked when Trevor put his mouth on her pussy. She'd grunted, almost in alarm as he licked and sucked her sweet little pussy to orgasm. Then, when he pulled her on top of him and entered her, she'd stared down at him in awe.

"Just how big is that thing?" she whispered, looking between them where they were joined.

She shuddered through a series of orgasms before she weakly pushed away from him.

"No more," she gasped, then crawled over and gripped his manhood.

"Oh my God; you're huge!" she exclaimed. "And that went in there?"

Then she sucked him until he spurted into her mouth.

In post-coital bliss, Trevor found out that Greg had been Stephanie's first, and until now, her only lover.

"So, how many have you had?" she asked, nuzzling his neck.

"Besides you?" he asked and she nodded her head

Yes. "Well, there was Greg St. Charles and..." He laughed when she slapped him.

"Sweetheart, seriously, there's been a few," he admitted.

"Good God, can tell you're a lawyer," Stephanie complained. "Can't give me a straight answer to a simple question."

He didn't answer, he pulled her onto her knees and had her grip the footboard.

She was able to take more of his pounding in that position And grunted in orgasm when he flooded her pussy with his seed.

"You like me the way it is now?" Stephanie asked as they again cuddled in post-coital bliss.

"What? Yeah, I love the way..." Trevor replied.

"Or you want me to shave it?" Stephanie asked, indicating her triangle of brown curls.

"Shave it? I've, you know what, I've never seen, well, I mean, I've seen shaved pussies in porn, but I've

Never..."

"I'll shave it," Stephanie decided.

And then Kristina demanded their attention.

Stephanie had sent Trevor a text message at lunch, letting him know she'd bought a pack of razor blades and some shave gel and was expecting his help in getting her pussy nice and smooth for him.

But he really didn't think they'd be shaving Stephanie's pussy with his sister there.

"Oh thank God; we're useless when it comes to..." Stephanie admitted when Trevor entered his home.

There was a large flat cardboard box , four slatted sections, and a bunch of screws, bolts and other items on the den's carpet.

"And, what is all this?" Trevor asked, even though he saw that it was a baby bed.

"It's a baby's bed," Tara announced from her position on the floor. "Mom bought it; thought it was just terrible you're making her baby sleep on the floor."

"Her baby?" both Stephanie and Trevor asked.

"And she's not on the floor, I put her on a couch cushion," Stephanie defended.

"A Bachelor's degree in Science, two years post-graduate studies, and you can't figure out..." Trevor teased his sister as he examined the miniscule progress the two girls had made thus far.

"Shut up; I just got here, "Tara laughed.

"And, y'all plan on making Kristina sleep out here?" Trevor asked.

"No; we pulled the dresser out; there's just enough room in our room..." Stephanie said.

"Then why are y'all putting it together out here?" Trevor asked and grabbed a few sections of the bed.

While Trevor teased his girlfriend and his sister, Cindy St. George was in her bedroom, drying her long honey blonde hair.

"Mom; what you think I ought to wear?" she called out over the blow drier.

"What? Can't hear you over..." Myrna said.

Together, they selected a simple, nice outfit.

Cindy was struggling into her panty hose just as Jack answered the door.

"She about ready?" David asked.

"Yeah, but she's still going to make you wait; women like doing that shit," Jack joked and invited the man into the living room of the small house.

"Shut up; I do not," Cindy said, entering the room.

"All right, let me see," David said.

Cindy breathed into his face, then huffed several times onto his face, shoulders and chest. Myrna and Jack stared at them as David laughed and Cindy smiled a satisfied smirk.

"There! That's breathing all over you, okay?" she said.

"Okay; congratulations, one whole week," he said and kissed her.

They left the house and Cindy smiled as Brian, one of the neighborhood boys stood and gawked at David's Db5.

"Miss Cindy, that your car?" the eleven year old boy asked.

"It might be," David answered before Cindy could say anything.

"No, silly, that's David's car," Cindy smiled.

"David, this is Brian Fourcade; he lives right down the street."

"Miss Cindy used to baby sit me but I'm too old now," Brian said.

"Damned shame; I don't think I'm too old for her to baby sit me," David smiled and opened the passenger door.

"Bye Brian," Cindy smiled as David closed the door.

"See you later Brian," David smiled and the boy sapped a few feet away, not sure how much room the car would need to drive away.

David did put on a little bit of a show for Brian's benefit; screaming away from the curb and power-shifting to the stop sign then screaming away from the neighborhood.

"That made his day," Cindy smiled.

"Guy used to date this cute little red head down the street; think her name was Candy or Brandy or something like that," David smiled as he brought the speed down. "Anyway, he drove this gorgeous Alfa-Romeo. But he was this total dick about it. I got too close to it one time and both he and Candy or Brandy or whatever her name was just yelled at me and told me to get away from it."

"What dicks!" Cindy agreed.

"Anyway, I swore I'd never be a dick like that; I mean, good God, it's just a car. It gets scratched? You paint it. But I mean, Brian wasn't any threat to the car, or to you or me, so why not give him a little thrill, right? "David smiled.

They pulled up to Side By Side steakhouse and David helped her out of the automobile.

"Yes sir, Mr. Torres," an attractive young woman seated them in an intimate booth.

"Hello, Mr. Torres," the waitress greeted them.

Cindy's eyebrows shot up; there were no prices on her menu. She was savvy enough to know that this meant the prices were not cheap.

David told her that he normally got the T-bone steak and Cindy knew enough about steak to know that the T-bone was usually a more expensive cut.

"But you get whatever you want," David smiled. "A whole week? You earned it."

"Thank you so much," Cindy smiled happily.

"I mean it; that really, I mean, oh God, I remember my first week without a cigarette; I was ready to kill someone, anyone, it really didn't matter who," David smiled.

"I think I know what you're talking about," Cindy laughed.

After the meal, after coffee and dessert, David asked Cindy if she'd like to go to Foxtrot's, a local nightclub that played Big Band music. He frowned as her face fell.

"I uh, I can't," she admitted. "See, I'm um, I'm on probation, possession of cocaine. I pled out,

No contest, but if I get popped I'm looking at least three to five years."

"So, don't drink," he shrugged. "I mean, that's what..."

"But you have to be at least twenty one get in and I'm only twenty," Cindy said.

"You're how old?" David asked.

He burst out laughing and squeezed her hand.

"I could have sworn you were at least twenty five," he smiled. "I mean, you look so mature, so professional sitting at that desk."

He squeezed her hand again.

"Then come to find out my youngest is older than you?" he laughed again.

"Your... How old are you?" she asked. "You're what, thirty five, thirty six, right?"

"Fifty three, will be fifty four next Thursday," he admitted.

"Oh," she said, staring at the table.

She looked up and tried to force a smile to her face.

"So, I uh, I guess this is it, huh? I mean, seriously, what would you want with a kid like me, right?" she asked, a tremor in her voice.

"And what would you want with some old geezer like me, huh?" he gently asked.

"I don't know, I mean, I don't think you're an old geezer, I mean, God, you make me laugh and you make me feel good about myself," Cindy admitted, a tear running down.

She wiped at her eye. "I mean, God, I didn't even want to tell you about my probation; I didn't want you to think I'm like this skank," she admitted.

"Ought to see my rap sheet," he shrugged.. "Thank God it's sealed. Juvey stuff."

"Come on, take me home," Cindy sighed.

"Hey, if I do want to see you again, you know, for coffee or something?" he asked as they stood up.

"Then just call me, but why, David? I mean, shit, I'm just a kid," Cindy sniffed.

"Thank you, come again, the hostess smiled.

Cindy let him open the car door for her, and stared at the floorboard of the car.

He got into the car, his cell phone at his ear. A second later, her phone gave a soft buzz from inside her purse.

"Want to get that? It might be important," he nodded toward her purse.

Listlessly she pulled her phone out.

"Hello?" she answered.

"Hey, it's me," David said. "I uh, I was wondering if you'd like to go for coffee or something."

"David, why?" she asked.

"Why not?" he answered. "I mean, I'm sure you think I'm older than dirt, have one foot in the grave and the other on a banana peel, but I happen to be extremely Attracted to you, I happen to like you, I happen to enjoy being with you, and I'd really like to see you Again. So how about it? Can I see you? Can we go get some coffee?"

"I happen to like you a lot too," she smiled and wiped at her eyes again. "I don't think you're older than dirt, and you make me, I mean, I'm with you and I don't think of what a loser I am, I mean, not even twenty one yet and already have two arrests and..."

"So is that a 'yes?'" he asked.

"It's a 'yes,'" she giggled and put her phone in her purse.

"Thank you," she said and put her arms around him and kissed him.

"Thank you," he said and kissed her.

"For...?' she asked.

"For being with me," he said simply.

"My God; does she live here?" Cindy thought as they saw Sally, David's ex-wife sitting in one of the booths in the coffee shop.

They ordered coffee; David nodded as Cindy only added evaporated milk to hers, then sat on the opposite side of the shop from Sally.

"So, you know all about me, know I've been popped twice for drugs, know I'm a receptionist at the worst law office in DeGarde, and I still live at home with my mom and her boyfriend," Cindy said.

"Don't know about your dad," David pointed out.

"He, uh, he's not a part of my life anymore," Cindy said and blew on her cup of coffee.

She looked up, her brown eyes looking into his.

"Haven't lied to you yet; not going to start now," she said. "My dad's in prison. He uh. He's one turned me on to smoking weed and doing lines. Get this shit; actually got all over me about smoking cigarettes though. Got busted with almost a kilo of heroin, judge gave him fifteen to twenty."

"And you don't see him or..." David asked.

"Could we, uh, could we not talk about it?" Cindy asked.

"Sure, sorry," David agreed and they sat in silence.

"So, uh, you haven't told me anything about you; I mean, I don't know how much that car cost, but I know it can't be cheap," Cindy said.

David spent briefly talked about the businesses that he owned. The more he talked, the more Cindy's eyes goggled, and her mouth hung open wider.

"Hello David," Sally said nastily, sneering at Cindy.

"Hi Sally," David said.

"Hi!" Cindy said brightly. "I'm Cindy! I'm David's girlfriend; you must be his mother, right? He said you were Mrs. Torres when we walked in and..."

"I am his wife," Sally snarled, face red with rage.

"David, you didn't' tell me you liked older women," Cindy said innocently.

"I am ten years younger than him," Sally snapped.

"Wow, life hasn't been very good to you, has it?" Cindy said, eyes wide.

"Why you little..." Sally shrilled.

"Sally, we weren't doing anything to you; we're just sitting here enjoying a cup of coffee," David said, getting to his feet to grab his ex-wife if she decided to make any movements toward Cindy. "You're the one came over here looking for a fight."

While Sally was muttering obscenities and threats under her breath as she slammed out of Jitters Coffee Shop, Greg St. Charles was sitting in Red's Sports Lounge down the street from his former home.

It felt good to sit in the warm welcoming atmosphere, it felt good to not have a curfew to worry about. He felt good. Even his mother was losing some of the rancor, when Greg set up a payment plan with her to return the fifteen thousand dollars he'd borrowed to by Dianne's house.

His work phone gave a 'ding' and Greg looked at it.

"Damn it," he said, losing some of the free easy feeling he had.

He'd blocked Dianne's number on his personal cell phone, but had forgotten to block her on his work phone.

"Here, Dude, answer this and tell this crazy bitch this is your phone," Greg said to a stranger sitting to his left. "Tell her you work for St. Elizabeth's Public Utilities, all right? I'll buy you a beer."