Tuff as Nails

"Sweetheart, I'm sorry, I am so sorry," Britney whispered. "I just, I just didn't know how to tell you."

She kissed him. She opened her mouth and he sucked her tongue into his mouth.

"Careful, I'm still breast feeding," she whispered when his large hands reached up and cupped her large breasts.

"Still?" he asked, but did back away from her breasts.

The ringing of her telephone broke their kiss. She smiled and dashed to her office.

"Kendricks Engineering, Mr. Richards' office," she intoned. "Dean Simms? Yes sir, please hold."

"It's the Dean of U.L.D. on line one," she called through the open door.

Tuff spoke briefly with the Dean of Student Affairs at the local university. When he hung up, Britney was again sitting on his couch, her business jacket off.

"That hundred thousand dollars we donated?" Tuff asked.

"You. You donated," Britney said.

"Well, there's a banquet Saturday night, seven o'clock," Tuff said.

"Oh?" Britney asked.

"Black tie, of course," Tuff said.

"Oh, but you do look so good in a tux," Britney enthused.

"So, since you're the one made me donate it, you be my date for this shindig?" Tuff asked.

"Are, yes, yes, I'll be your date, shit, you still owe me a dance," Britney enthused, getting to her feet.

"I don't owe you a dance, Britney, we already had that damned dance, remember?" Tuff said.

"T. Dayton's, oh, and I'll need, Tuff? You bring Cheryl Marie home? I've got a few things to do, God, it's this Saturday? They really don't give anyone time get ready, do they?" Britney said as she left the outer office.

"Hello, Mr. Richards, Denise smiled as she took Britney's seat a moment later.

"Hi Denise, how's my second favorite personal assistant?" Tuff smiled.

"Working hard to be your most favorite," she said.

Tuff did not respond to the blonde's blatant statement. At the last check of his bank account, he had enough money to settle several sexual harassment suits, but didn't really want the hassle.

Instead, he closed the door of his office and poured himself a few fingers of Harry's twenty year old Scotch.

"Mrs. Richards on line one, Mr. Richards," Denise's voice cut through.

"Of course; minute I'm about to have fun," Tuff smiled.

"Cheryl Marie's car seat and stroller is in the closet next to my desk," Britney bubbled. "Johnson will be there at six, unless you want to go home earlier?"

"Six is fine," Tuff said.

At five fifty five, Tuff stepped out of his office, wished Denise a good evening, and took both stroller and car seat out of Britney's closet.

Cheryl Marie smiled at him when he scooped her out of her playpen. She gurgled happily when he put her into her stroller and strapped her in.

"Have a good evening, Mr. Richards," the young lady said.

"You too," Tuff said.

"Mr. Richards," John Johnson smiled as Tuff approached the limousine.

"Mr. Johnson," Tuff said.

The chauffeur quickly anchored the car seat and folded the stroller as Tuff buckled the child into the car seat.

Cheryl Marie giggled and gurgled as Tuff played 'Patty Cake' with her. When the limousine came to a halt, Tuff looked out at the familiar sight of his old home.

"Huh," Tuff said when John opened the door.

"And she keeps the porch light on for you, sir," John said quietly as he unfolded the stroller.

Tuff pushed the stroller up the drive, car seat under his left arm. He knocked on the door, always hating the way the doorbell sounded at this house.

"What? Why'd you knock? You could have just come on in," Britney said when she opened the door.

"I don't, I left my keys on the table, remember?" Tuff said.

"Oh. Oh yeah, that's right," Britney said.

She rested a small hand on Tuff's arm.

"Making smothered pork sausage and rice; you staying?" she asked, light green eyes staring up at him hopefully. "I know that's one of your favorites."

"I uh, yeah, sure," Tuff agreed.

"If you say 'welcome home,' Mr. Johnson, I swear I'll hit you," Tuff warned before telling the chauffeur he'd call him when he was ready to be picked up.

"Yes sir," John smiled.

Britney was a good cook, especially when it came to a good Cajun dish. Then she had Tuff help her give Cheryl Marie a bath. Then Tuff read a bedtime story, even though Cheryl Marie didn't understand anything Tuff was saying.

"You staying the night?" Britney begged. "Still got a few of your tee shirts here. Oh, and some boxers."

"No, Britney, but thank you," Tuff said gently.

"Fine, Mr. Richards," Britney teased. "See you at work tomorrow."

"Uh huh," Tuff said as John answered his cell phone.

Home again, Tuff checked all of his suit pockets for anything of importance. He removed his cell phone from the inside pocket. Then, he found two keys in the other inside pocket.

"You little bitch," Tuff couldn't help but smile as he recognized the front door key and the rear door key of his former residence.

He debated on what to do with the keys and finally just lay them on his chest of drawers. Then he readied for bed.

Again, Denise filled in for Britney the next afternoon when Britney left for her appointment at T. Dayton Salon. The blonde girl smiled at Tuff as she crossed her well-shaped legs slowly.

"Mrs. Richards on line two, sir," she said a moment later.

"Yes, Britney?" Tuff asked.

"Car seat and stroller in the closet in my office; I'll pick up a large Supreme from Taste of Sicily's on the way home, okay?" Britney bubbled into the telephone.

"And how you know I don't already have plans?" Tuff asked.

"You don't, do you?" Britney asked, all traces of happiness gone.

Tuff felt a horrible sinking in his stomach. He could hear the hurt in Britney's voice.

"No, no, but Britney, really, you can't just go around assuming, all right?" Tuff said.

"You're right," Britney agreed. "No, no, Sweetheart, you're right."

Cheryl Marie smiled when Tuff bent to scoop her up. He smelled the heavy diaper and brought the infant back to his office, diaper bag over his shoulder.

"Oh!" Denise sighed at the sight of Cheryl Marie. "Is that..."

"Britney's baby, yes," Tuff said, entering his office.

In his private bathroom, he changed the child's diaper. Then, as she sat on the small fuzzy rug, Tuff thoroughly washed his hands.

"Now, let's see if you can make it all the way home before unleashing another one of them turd bomb, huh?" Tuff asked the child.

"Mr. Richards," John Johnson smiled, opening the rear of the limousine.

"Mr. Johnson," Tuff agreed.

Tuff used his key to let himself into the house. He could smell the Supreme pizza, thin crust.

"Wow, you look terrific," Tuff complimented, even though he really could tell no difference in Britney's appearance.

"Really? You like it?" Britney asked happily.

"Yeah," Tuff agreed.

"And were you a good girl for Daddy? Were you a good girl?" Britney fussed over Cheryl Marie.

They ate the pizza. Again, Britney had Tuff bathe Cheryl Marie, had him read a bed time story to the child.

Then, when he left the nursery, Britney stood in the hallway, modeling a sheer camisole top that barely covered her heavy breasts and a pair of sheer panties.

"Sure you won't stay?" she asked, turning and showing him that the panties were a thong.

"Britney, the problem has never been about how beautiful you are, or how desirable you are," Tuff said.

He kissed her. She clung to him.

"Then what, Tuff? What is it, Baby?" Britney asked, begging.

"I, I'll see you tomorrow," Tuff said. "Banquet starts at seven, okay?"

"Tuff, what? What is it? What can I do?" Britney pleaded.

Tuff stepped outside and used his key to lock the front door.

"Mr. Richards," John said.

"Mr. Johnson," Tuff agreed.

The office was empty on Saturdays, but the manufacturing side of Kendricks Engineering was bustling. There were nearly one hundred orders for the KE TR-1 and even more orders for the Britney filtration system. Tuff watched as employees danced a mad ballet, each doing their part to manufacture the KE product line.

Then he stepped back into the office portion of the building. The silence was deafening after the bedlam on the other side of the doors.

According to his calculations, there should be three trucks at the loading docks; two dropping off material, one preparing to transport completed units to the Port of New Orleans. At three thirty, a second truck would be there to transport a load to the Port of Southwest Louisiana.

He stepped out of the rear doors and looked. He smiled as one truck slowly pulled away from the loading dock.

Again in his office, Tuff sat behind his desk. As chaotic as the manufacturing floor had looked, there was an order to it all. As frenzied as the loading docks had looked, there was an order to it all.

As peaceful as it was in his office, with no ringing telephones, no computer humming, no Britney or Denise just outside of his door, it was a chaotic jumble, a complete mess.

Pack was in Brazil, travelling along the Amazon. Brent and Frank were in Montana, hiking Glacier National Park. Deborah was expecting her first baby; she would not reveal who the father was.

There was no one for him to call, to talk to about his problems. His mother would spout some religious chatter, would misquote the Bible. Cheryl, as close a friend as she was, was somewhat biased.

"It's going get better yeah," Tuff muttered to himself.

He poured himself a few fingers of Harry's scotch.

"But when?" he asked himself, not touching his drink. "Huh? When is it going get better?"

He looked at the portrait of Harry. He frowned.

"And what kind of narcissist hangs a painting of himself in his office?" he asked the portrait.

He grabbed the portrait and took it off of the wall. His first thought was to throw the painting into the dumpster behind the building. Then he carried it down the hall.

When Sierra would come into work on Monday morning, she would see the portrait of Harry James Kendricks perched on the wall behind her desk, greeting their employees and guests as they entered the reception area.

At six thirty Saturday evening, Tuff smiled as he stepped out of his condominium. John Johnson was there, hand on the door of the limousine.

"Good evening, Mr. Richards," the driver said. "You're looking very nice tonight, sir."

"Thank you, Mr. Johnson," Tuff said.

He entered his home and smiled at the sight of Cheryl's slightly large backside as the grandmother knelt on the floor, fussing over Cheryl Marie. The woman looked over her shoulder and smiled widely.

"Well, Ezekiel, don't you look handsome in your tuxedo," Cheryl praised.

"Thank you," Tuff said. "You're the baby sitter tonight?"

"You know it," Cheryl said. "And Britney says 'Sleeping Beauty' is Cheryl Marie's favorite bedtime story; it's the one her Daddy reads to her all the time."

"Uh huh," Tuff agreed.

"You ready?" Britney asked, coming into the living room.

"Wow," Tuff said honestly. "You look, that is just beautiful."

Britney smiled and twirled so that Tuff could get the full effect of her little black dress, her expertly applied make up, her elaborately done hairstyle.

"Now I see what all the fuss about 'little black dress' is about," Tuff said and Britney smiled happily.

At the banquet, Tuff and Britney mingled, talking with the faculty, the other guests. Tuff did purse his lips slightly at the sight of Robert Brown.

Robert Brown was the escort of Professor Ashley McLean, head of the English Studies. The fifty year old woman was stuffed into a black dress that was at least two sizes too small. When she raised her arm, it revealed that shaving was not a priority for her.

After the meet and greet portion was out of the way, Dean Robert Simms did make a small speech about the generous donation of Ezekiel Aaron Richards to the University of Louisiana at DeGarde. Tuff stood and gave a small bow and wave.

"No, no, Mr. Richards, a few words, please?" Dean Simms encouraged.

"I uh, well, any organization is only as good as its employees," Tuff said. "Some of our employees have children. Their children are too young for school, and since leaving them duct taped in a closet is till illegal in this state..."

He let the laughter die down. Britney sat, beaming up at him proudly.

"My personal assistant," Tuff said, looking down at Britney.

He looked at her beautiful face, her light green eyes. Her pride was evident, her smile was genuine as she looked up at him.

"My wife suggested that we have a nursery for those employees. Our own daughter is only six months old; we too are benefiting from this nursery. And it's a good feeling, knowing that we can walk down the hall, stick our head in and see our Cheryl Marie," Tuff said.

He felt Britney's fingers touching his hand. Tuff looked down and saw the tears in her eyes.

"Now, I've already pointed out, an organization is only as good as its employees. So, we at Kendricks Engineering are donating one hundred thousand dollars to the Education Department here, to make sure that U.L.D. has the best employees. So that they can keep churning out the best of our employees. In our nursery, in our engineering, in our sales team, right Robert?" Tuff continued.

"Right, Tuff," Robert said, after recovering from his surprise.

"Dean Simms, Kendricks Engineering is committed, to our employees, to our community, to our neighbors and our friends. As our neighbor, as our friend, please let Kendricks Engineering know what we can do for you," Tuff concluded.

Britney leaned her head against Tuff's shoulder when he sat down.

"I love you, I love you so much," Britney whispered into his ear.

After the meal, after the dessert, Britney walked over to the young man quietly playing a piano. The man was just playing dinner music, some background ambiance.

'Nights In White Satin' began to softly play.

"May I have this dance?" Britney quietly asked Tuff.

She had not demanded the dance. She had not declared that he owed it to her. She quietly asked if she could have a dance with him.

"They are playing our song," Tuff agreed.

A few people looked on as the young couple stood, gently swaying to the tinkling melody. Some joined them in the very small area.

Just as she had done at Pack's party, at their wedding, Britney molded herself against Tuff. Her lips sought out his jawline. Her breath blew seductively in his ear.

He held her lush body against his. She hummed the words of the song as they held onto one another.

"A hundred bucks you play that again," Tuff said to the young man when he played the last notes of the song.

The one time Tuff left Britney alone, Robert made a bee-line for her. He bragged about his sales for the month, and asked her pointedly if Tuff was still 'pouting,' leaving her alone in that big empty house.

"Robert, that's my wife you're trying to horn in on," Tuff said easily from behind Robert. "Now, why don't you go talk to Dean Mouton about the hydraulics pumping station he's working on? It could mean some sales for you in Afghanistan."

"We, we're not in Afghanistan, are we?" Robert asked.

"It'll be your new sales territory I see you around Britney again," Tuff warned.

"My hero, come protect me from the big bad wolf," Britney teased as she wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders.

Before he left the banquet, Tuff had secured a promise of a contract for Kendricks Engineering to do the manufacturing and the sales of the hydraulics pumping station. He had talked with Dr. Whitehead about holding a contest among the architecture graduate students to design a new facility that would be manufacturing the hydraulics pumping station. He had promised another donation to the Mathematics Department.

The piano player gasped when he emptied his tips jar and saw ten crisp one hundred dollar bills folded together among the five and ten dollar bills.

"It was a good banquet, Mr. Richards?" John asked as he opened the rear door.

"It was wonderful, Mr. Johnson," Britney enthused.

John looked at her for a brief moment. He had known the young lady for nineteen of her twenty three years. Just like her father and her mother, she had always called him 'Johnson,' never 'Mr. Johnson.'

"A very productive evening indeed, Mr. Johnson," Tuff agreed.

The men bumped fists, then John closed the door of the car.

"Now, how you do that?" Britney asked, holding out her fist.

Tuff showed her how to do an appropriate fist bump. She practiced on him the entire ten minute ride home, to her house. She laughed happily and kissed him.

John opened the door and smiled. He looked, surprised when Britney held out a fist. He smiled and the two bumped fists.

"Good night, Mr. Johnson. Thank you," Britney said.

"You are welcome, ma'am," John said.

"Good night, Mr. Johnson," Tuff said, giving John a fist bump.

"Good night, sir, and welcome back, sir," John said.

"That will be all for tonight, Mr. Johnson," Tuff quietly said.

"Again, sir, welcome back," John quietly said.

Cheryl came out of one of the guest bedrooms to ask Britney how the evening had gone. But when she saw Tuff approaching behind her daughter, she smiled and shut her door.

They both looked in on the sleeping Cheryl Marie. The infant did not stir when Britney gently ran her hand over her back. She continued to breathe softly.

"You are, please, you are staying? Please?" Britney asked quietly.

"Sent Mr. Johnson on home," Tuff admitted.

Britney wrapped her arms around Tuff, pulled him tightly, and kissed him. It was a scorching kiss, a passionate kiss.

Britney pulled Tuff from the nursery to their bedroom. As she pulled him, she hummed, 'Nights in white satin, never reaching the end...'

In the master bedroom, Tuff saw his New Orleans Mardi Gras coffee mug sitting on what would have been his nightstand. He also saw that there were three pillows on what would have been his side of the bed.

"I've been looking all over for that mug," he said.

"Been right where you left it," Britney said as she struggled to get to her zipper.

Tuff reached out and unzipped the dress. Then he pulled her against him. She sighed in contentment as she felt his muscular chest against her back, felt his powerful arms around her waist.

She wiggled her backside, feeling his erection pushing at his trousers. She gave another sigh when she felt his lips graze her ear.

Then he pushed her dress down. It puddled at her feet, leaving her in only thigh high stockings and four inch heels. She twisted in his arms and pulled him down for another scorching kiss.

"Fuck me, just fuck me," she whispered.

His jacket, cummerbund and tie joined her dress on the bedroom floor. His shoes, shirt and trousers were kicked into a corner of the bedroom.

"Oh, Sweetheart!" she cried out as he drove himself into her wet pussy in one thrust.

He pounded his cock in and out of her pussy. She wrapped her stocking clad legs around his narrow waist, pulling him tight against her.

"Oh, shit, shit, oh God, here it, ugh!" Britney grunted in orgasm.

"Whose pussy is this?" Tuff demanded.

"Yours, baby, that's your pussy," Britney grunted, another orgasm welling up in her.

"Whose ass is that?" Tuff demanded.

"Yours Baby, you want to fuck your ass?" Britney asked, then shook and shuddered through a second orgasm.

"Whose mouth is that?" Tuff demanded.

"Yours, Tuff Ezekiel Aaron Richards," Britney gasped and groaned. "All of me is yours, all of me."

With a groan, he emptied his balls into her tightly pulsing pussy.

"Give it, oh God yes, give it to me!" Britney screamed as she felt his semen flooding into her pussy.

After he caught his breath, Tuff reached down and pulled his black socks off of his feet. Then, he pulled Britney against him. She lay, her pretty head on his chest, fingers lazily running along his flesh.