Tuff as Nails

Deborah Nicole Bertrand may have had a 5.0 GPA, but public speaking was not her forte. Finally, she mercifully concluded her mumbled monotone delivery and bolted from the podium.

"And our Salutorian, Ezekiel, Aaron Richards, or as most of you know him, Tuff," Principal Savoie announced.

"Deborah, thank you for those uplifting words; I am sure we will all remember and treasure your encouraging message," Tuff said. "Principal Savoie, teachers of Baylor Lake High School, thank you for giving us the tools that we will need as we go forward into our lives. Parents, families, friends, thank you for encouraging us, for inspiring us, for challenging us, and some of you? For threatening us with grievous bodily harm to do better."

He let the laughter die down.

"It worked, didn't it?" a man yelled out and there was more laughter.

"Yes sir, it worked," Tuff agreed. "You know? Some of us already know what we want to be, some of us already have aspirations, and know what it will take to achieve our goals. Some of us have hopes and dreams, and some of us have no earthly idea what we're going to do, where we'll wind up when we walk out of those doors, those large, open doors right there. But we do know, we've been given the tools. We've been given the tools, but it is up to us, each one of us whether or not we'll use those tools. Class of Two thousand twelve? I implore you, I beseech you, I challenge you. Pick up your tools, use your tools. Thank you."

"Great speech, but you're still a big giant homo," Brent Roberts whispered to Tuff when Tuff sat back down.

"Takes one to know one, bitch," Tuff whispered back.

The two young men laughed quietly and nudged each other with their broad shoulders.

Finally, Principal Savoie seemed to realize that people were not there to listen to him drone on and on. The diplomas were handed out, special awards were presented, then the students and families were allowed to file out.

"Mr. Richards, Mr. Richards? Over here," an older man in a dark charcoal pinstripe suit called out as Tuff tried to hustle his mother toward her 1984 Delta 88.

"Yes sir?" Tuff said politely.

"Harry Kendricks," the man introduced himself, hand outstretched.

"Oh, yeah, the shit for brains keeps calling my boss and making me lose hours," Tuff said. "Stick that hand back in your pocket unless you want me to break it off."

Harry Kendricks stared, open-mouthed at the young man that dared to speak to him in such a manner. He dealt with captains of industry. He dealt with heads of states, business men, military leaders, despots, dictators. No one dared speak to him in such a rude, condescending manner.

"Ezekiel Aaron Richards!" Marie hissed, outraged.

"Well, its true, Mom," Tuff said. "Remember? February? Had to cut the cable? This is the ass hole called Ricky and had me lose twelve hours then."

"I uh, well, I'm sorry, I uh, I didn't realize," Harry stammered.

"Of course you didn't realize," Tuff snapped. "Stuck up pieces of shit like you? Y'all never realize that your selfish, self-centered actions have consequences. Oh, not for you. You just keep on doing whatever the fuck you want. But it's people like us that pay the price for your actions."

"I did not raise him to talk like this," Marie apologized to the now quite upset man.

"Go ahead, Mr. Kendricks. Stick that hand out again," Tuff said. "I dare you."

"Best of luck in your future endeavors, Mr. Richards," Harry said, turned and walked back to where his daughter and wife stood.

"Is he coming to the party?" Britney asked hopefully.

"Not a snowball's chance in hell is that young man coming anywhere near your party, Honey," Mr. Kendricks admitted.

"Tuff! Hey Tuff," Deborah Bertrand squeaked.

The pudgy girl's face beamed, even through the layers of acne. Tuff smiled warmly at the girl and she blushed hotly.

"Thank you so much for what you said about my speech," Deborah gushed.

"Welcome. It was a beautiful speech," Tuff said and hugged the girl.

"So, who wrote it for you?" Tuff teased and she squealed.

"Listen, we uh, I, I mean, we, Britney invited us all to her house; you going?" Deborah asked hopefully.

"No, but y'all have fun," Tuff said.

A few other students shook Tuff's hand. A few even wanted pictures with him. Many asked if he was going to Britney's party.

"Dude!" Pack said. "She's got a pool!"

"Pack, you won't even get in a bathtub and you're telling me you'll get in a pool?" Tuff teased.

"Aw, your ass, homo!" Pack laughed.

Then he surprised Tuff by hugging him tightly.

"Man, love you, hear?" Pack said.

"Love you too," Tuff said, suddenly feeling a great sense of loss.

Home again, he removed the gown. He carefully folded the polyester material and mortarboard and put both into their plastic bags. The tassel, he hung on the mirror over his dresser.

He removed his slacks and hung them. The dress shirt, he had sweated in, so it went on top of the washing machine. Then, dressed in ragged tee shirt and his Baylor Lake High School gym shorts and battered flip flops, Tuff doused himself in mosquito spray and climbed on top of the trailer.

Staring at the constellations, Tuff felt that overwhelming sense of loss again. Then he remembered Melissa Bergeron's words on that cold winter night.

"It's going get better yeah," Melissa said.

Coach Cole Harrison of the University of Louisiana at DeGarde Storm was a vastly different coach than Coach Brighton had been. Cole did not scream, threaten, belittle his players. He spoke to them. He pointed out errors and made suggestions on how they could improve.

His freshman year, Tuff rode the bench. His sophomore year, Tuff saw some playing time. His junior and senior year, Tuff was the first-string quarterback. But because their best record for the four years that Tuff played for the Storm was in his freshman year, when they were seven and four, no professional teams came looking for Tuff Richards.

A few engineering companies did recruit Ezekiel Richards, though. In his senior year, Tuff was part of an engineering team that competed on the world stage. They came in fourth, behind the teams from Japan, South Korea and Norway.

Tuff had thoroughly enjoyed his college experience. Even though he lived in Baylor Lake, he opted to live on campus, in Schaeffer Athletic Dormitory. Even as a lowly freshman, Tuff often had junior and senior cheerleaders willing to warm his bed.

He also enjoyed tormenting his mother with wildly exaggerated accounts of the debaucheries that took place in his dormitory. Marie Richards switched from praying for her own soul to pleading with Jesus to please forgive her son his many transgressions.

Best of all, for Tuff Richards, though, was that there was no sign of Britney Theresa Kendricks. She had gone to Vassar. Their paths did cross, whenever Britney was home for a long weekend, or a break in between semesters.

Once, at a party at Pack's house, Britney showed up with a sneering, posturing young man. Tuff surprised everyone by greeting Britney, and introducing himself to Robert Brown, Britney's date.

"So," sneered Robert. "What are you majoring in? Oh! I'm sorry; that was rather presumptive of me, wasn't it? You are in college?"

"Aw yeah I am me," Tuff smiled, actually amused by the young man's arrogance. "I was majoring in that there alligator fucking, but I switched over to crawfishing; that a lot easier yeah."

"Tuff!" Britney giggled, slapping Tuff's arm playfully. "Robert? Tuff's an engineering major."

"Oh," Robert said, then smirked. "Well, I'm in financing myself. Carrying a three point nine."

"Oh, that mean you smart, right?" Tuff said and walked away.

Britney cornered Tuff in the kitchen, after Robert Brown had consumed one too many St. Elizabeth Lagers.

"You still owe me a dance," Britney slurred, also more than a little drunk.

"Don't owe you shit, Britney," Tuff sighed.

"Yeah you do; I was the queen and you was the king, you supposed dance with me," Britney whined.

Pack laughed out loud. Tuff gave the grinning boy the finger. A moment later, the booming, pulsing music ceased.

Suddenly, 'Nights In White Satin' by The Moody Blues began playing.

"Pack, you ass hole!" Tuff yelled.

"Come on," Britney demanded, molding her lithe body against him.

She had been attractive, beautiful in high school. In the three years since graduation, she had become even more beautiful. Her body was still as perfect as always.

Tuff gave in and swayed along with the music. If her breasts were man-made, they were of an excellent quality. They pressed firmly and molded against him.

Her moist lips traced along his jaw. Her breath was hot in his ear.

Tuff could feel his cock stiffen as she rubbed against him. The song played on and on and Tuff ground his teeth, wishing it would just end.

Then, as the narrator recited the words to some nonsensical poem, Britney kissed Tuff full on his lips. Her tongue wormed into his mouth.

"There," she breathed. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"

"Uh huh, got your dance, stuck up little bitch, happy now?" Tuff asked and left the party.

"Dude!" Pack said a few days later. "Man! What'd you do? You left out of there and Britney just starts crying and carrying on, I mean, shit!"

"Dude, didn't do shit, just danced that one crappy dance with her," Tuff denied. "And, shit, man, just how long is that fucking song, huh?"

After his graduation with a BS in mechanical engineering, Tuff debated with himself; go into Corporate America, or go for a Master's. Chris Dumas of Pilot Petroleum did encourage him to pursue his Masters, as did St. Elizabeth's Distilleries. A few other oil companies wanted him yesterday and even offered Tuff a signing bonus.

Then Kendricks Engineering demanded an interview with him. Tuff was very tempted to tell the sneering voice on the other end to kiss his ass. But, he knew the oil field is a very tightly meshed business. If a worker gets run off of one rig, before that worker's feet touch on dry ground, every company in the industry knows about that worker's transgressions.

He had bought a suit for his graduation so got out that suit, knotted his tie, and drove his 2001 F150 pickup truck to Kendricks Engineering in Baylor Lake.

"Yes?" a stunning red head with pneumatic breasts demanded when Tuff walked into the reception area.

"Ezekiel Richards, here to see, uh, Mrs. Hebert," Tuff said.

"Mm, mmm, no, no Ezekiel Richards," the woman sneered as she checked her monitor.

"Tuff Richards?" Tuff guessed.

"Oh! Yes sir, right here," the girl brightened. "Please have a seat; I'll let her know you're here."

Tuff met with Chloe Hebert, an attractive woman in her mid to late forties. He was polite, answered her questions, and did admit he was torn between accepting a job, and pursuing his Master's degree.

Then Harry Kendricks walked into the conference room. Tuff kept his face passive as Harry murmured to Chloe. Chloe then wished Tuff well and left the room.

"Mr. Kendricks," Tuff said politely.

"Naw, naw, my friends call me Harry," Harry said jovially.

"Yes sir?" Tuff said, face and voice neutral.

"Ah, uh well now, uh, Ms. Hebert says you might be pursuing your Master's?" Harry asked.

"Possibility," Tuff said.

"Well, son, what would it take for you to sign on with Kendricks Engineering?" Harry asked, trying to sound upbeat.

"An act of God," Tuff said. "Mr. Kendricks..."

"Harry," Harry interrupted.

"Mr. Kendricks, let's not waste each other's time here. I have absolutely no desire to ever work for you. I would rather go back to making nine bucks an hour at the Pak-N-Sak than work for you. I would rather live on welfare than ever take a job here," Tuff said, getting to his feet.

Tuff heard Harry Kendricks yelling something as he left the conference room. He ignored the man as he strolled down the maze of corridors, making his way to the reception area.

"Mr. Richards, please, Mr. Kendricks wants..." the red headed receptionist said, standing as Tuff entered her area.

"Mr. Kendricks doesn't always get what he wants," Tuff said.

ULD was happy to accept Tuff into their Master's program. He began his studies in earnest.

A few days after the interview with Harry Kendricks, Deborah Bertrand called Tuff. Tuff chatted pleasantly with the girl, even as he wondered how she had obtained his cell number.

"Anyway, I uh, listen, a couple of us are getting together tomorrow night, no big whoop, just you know, hanging out and stuff," Deborah suddenly said.

"Know what? I'm about go blind here, yeah, I'll be there," Tuff agreed and got her apartment's address.

Arrow Court Apartments were fairly new, having sprung up along with the St. Elizabeth Parish Trauma Center. Tuff parked in the Visitors space and tried to guess where Apartment 4E would be.

"Hey! You made it!" Deborah screamed, obviously already into whatever alcohol was on hand.

She was still a pudgy girl, but her horrible acne had receded somewhat. Her large brown eyes seemed larger through her thick glasses. She was still dressed in the baggy, shapeless clothing she'd worn in high school.

"Tuff Richards," an obviously drunk Britney Kendricks announced.

"Great," Tuff muttered.

"Hi Britney; where's Robert?" Tuff asked politely.

"Around here somewhere," Britney said, waving an arm to indicate the apartment.

Robert was in the kitchen, trying to impress Deborah's roommate. The young man actually seemed surprised when Tuff greeted him. Tuff had only come into the kitchen to fix himself a drink.

"I was telling, uh, telling..." Robert slurred.

"Sandra," Deborah's roommate supplied.

"Sandra! I was just telling Sandra that the real estate bubble was doomed from the start," Robert said smugly.

"Yeah; George W. Bush tried three times to get Congress to do something about the adjustable rates mortgages and they refused," Tuff agreed. "That balloon, pun intended, was doomed to burst sooner or later."

Robert scowled; Tuff obviously was not as ignorant as he had believed. Sandra took that opportunity to beat a retreat. Robert downed his drink and fixed himself another one.

"Hey!" Britney said, a little too loudly. "Uh, thought you was fixing me one?"

"Did; right here," Robert said, handing Britney a glass.

"Heard you really pissed Daddy off," Britney said, leaning heavily against Tuff. "Bad Tuff! Bad, bad boy!"

"Uh huh," Tuff said.

"But, Tuff, oil field, think it's headed up or down?" Robert asked, gulping his drink.

"Should have heard him, he was so mad!" Britney giggled.

She gulped her drink, looking up into Tuff's handsome face.

"All of y'all, out, huh? I got the bean dip on the table out here," Sandra ordered.

Robert left the kitchen. Britney held onto Tuff for a moment.

"Daddy really wants you work for him," Britney declared.

"Uh huh," Tuff said.

"Oh! Oh! Can I, I want talk to you," Britney said.

"What are we doing now?" Tuff asked.

"In private," Britney whispered loudly.

Britney pulled Tuff into a bedroom, closed and locked the door. Then she sat on the bed.

Her short skirt rode up, revealing her neatly trimmed bush of pink blonde pubic hair. Her pale pink lips peeked out, slick with her moisture.

"So, uh what'd you want to talk about?" Tuff asked, looking at her pussy.

"Bad Tuff!" Britney said, giggling. "Bad, bad Tuff."

Then she pulled the short dress up and off.

Her breasts were large orbs on her slender chest. Each globe was capped with a large light pink areole and a hard nipple. Her belly was slightly concave, with a cute little tunnel of a belly button.

"Want make love?" Britney asked. "Or you wanna fuck?"

Tuff smiled and made her squeal when he grabbed her by her ankles, pulling her buttocks to the edge of the bed. He knelt between her splayed thighs and kissed her mouth hotly.

"Oh!" she moaned into his mouth.

His arms went around her, pulling her tightly to him. Then he released her mouth and trailed his mouth down her throat.

"Oh, Tuff!" Britney moaned.

Her breasts were not store bought; they were natural. Tuff gently cupped and massaged each in his large hands. Then he bent and traced his tongue from the outer rim of her left areole, circling the crinkled flesh until he reached her hard nipple.

"Yes," Britney sighed, arms around Tuff's neck.

He repeated the same with her right breast, then made her squirm as his teeth nipped at her heavy breasts.

"Oh God yes," Britney moaned when Tuff suddenly looped her thighs over his broad shoulders.

She squealed and squirmed when he blew his hot breath across her puffy lips. Then she stiffened and groaned as he lapped up and down her lips, tasting her essences.

"God damn yes, oh fuck!" Britney screamed in orgasm when Tuff bit down on her clitoris.

Then he stood, unhooked his jeans and dropped them to the floor. Her legs were still on his shoulders as he positioned the head of his cock to her slick pussy.

"Ugh!" she screamed as his fat cock gained entry.

Her eyes opened wide and her mouth hung open in a silent scream as Tuff jammed all eight inches into her snug pussy.

"Oh my fucking God," Britney squealed as Tuff began to pull out.

Soon he had a rhythm going and Britney just lay, head and shoulders on the mattress, back and ass suspended as he hammered in and out of her. She whimpered, whined and moaned. Then she screamed again and her already quite snug pussy clamped down on his thrusting cock.

"Ugh! Aw shit," Tuff grunted and pumped his seed into her.

"God damn, that was unbelievable!" Britney enthused as Tuff's semi-flaccid cock slid out of her stretched, raw pussy.

Tuff gave her a soft kiss to her smiling lips. Then he pulled his pants up, cinched his belt and left the bedroom.

Deborah smiled a drunken smile when Tuff thanked her for inviting him. Robert was too busy trying to impress a bored looking Sandra to really notice him. The three or four other people just nodded when Tuff told them good-bye.

Seven weeks later, Tuff's cell phone rang. The area code was one he did not recognize, but he had been waiting on some source references for his thesis.

"Hello?" he asked.

"I'm pregnant, you mother fucker," Britney Kendricks sobbed into the phone.

"Well, congratulations; how's good old Robert feel about that?" Tuff asked.

"Dumped me soon as we knew for sure," Britney sniffled.

"Oh," Tuff said, waiting.

""That's all you got to say? 'Oh'?" Britney sobbed.

"Well, what am I supposed to say?" Tuff asked.

"How about 'I'll marry you,' or 'I'll do the right thing?' How about 'I'll support the baby?' How about any of that?" Britney screamed.

"What? Why in the fuck would I marry you? And why would I support Robert's baby?" Tuff asked. "And uh, hey, quit screaming in my ear, huh bitch?"

That afternoon, Tuff walked toward his pickup truck. A Mercedes-Benz sat next to the truck. When he unlocked the door of his truck, a muscular man opened the passenger door of the Mercedes-Benz.

"Mr. Kendricks wants to see you," the man growled.

"Good to know," Tuff said easily.

"Get in," the man ordered.

"No. I'll follow you," Tuff said, almost amused.

Someone inside of the car said something. The man nodded to Tuff, got back into the car and closed the door.

Tuff followed the Mercedes-Benz to Kendricks Engineering. They circled around the building and parked in the rear of the building. Two men got out of the Mercedes-Benz, both quite muscled, both wearing dark suits and dark glasses. One proceeded them, the other stepped behind Tuff and walked behind toward a steel door. The first man punched a number into the keypad and the door clicked.

Entering the building, the trio walked down a corridor, footsteps ringing on the concrete floor. Another door, another keypad, another click. Then they were in a large office.