A groan escaped her as she thought of Perry. His evil face swam before her eyes as she thought about taking him, and she fell back on her ass and rubbed her burning clitoris as hard as she could. "Rrrrgghh!" Another wave of unbelievably intense pleasure washed over her and she fell back on her back to writhe upward against her two hands, one parting her labia widely, the other probing and scratching and rubbing within her lovely hot cunt. Chuck wanted that cunt, and she knew exactly why. Perry wanted it too, and though she didn't want to think about him then, she found she couldn't help it as wave after wonderful wave of pure pleasure was hers, and she muttered, "Fuck me! Want to be fucked. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck."
Chapter 4
On Friday Laura worked at a fast, steady pace all day, wanting to clear her desk before leaving on her vacation, even though that was a hopeless task. By four o'clock, she'd accomplished a great deal. She was just about to stretch the kink out of her neck and go to the pilot plant for the day's data sheets when Perry Coleman entered the office.
The charts were in his hands and he was smiling so shyly that he looked like a different man. "I know you've been hitting it pretty hard today, Miss Dandridge, so I thought I'd save you the trip out there."
"Thank you, Perry," she said, surprised and very pleased that, without warning, their relationship had suddenly fallen into the proper place. She was still wary of him, but willing to give him a chance to start again with her. Even if his present demeanor was a facade, it was far better than his attitude in the past, that past which she was willing to forgive and forget.
But he wouldn't forget it. He said, "Say, I'm just real sorry about getting wise with you yesterday. I didn't mean it and I shouldn't have said it."
"It's all right, Perry. You're forgiven."
"I was just sore, and I was afraid of losing my job."
"I understand. Jobs aren't that easy to get now."
"Especially for a guy like me," he said with a rueful grin. "And that other thing, with that woman, you know that'll never happen again."
"I'm sure," she said, and picked up her glasses and put them on, feeling her cheeks warming. "That was… very bad."
A grin tugged at the corners of his mouth, but he said,' "It sure was. And I sure am sorry. Right now, this is worth more to me than just about any woman," he said, and picked up his paycheck from her desk. "I've got to save some money and make something of myself before I start thinking about women again. It was a woman who got me in trouble before."
"It was?" she asked, fascinated, for she'd never heard about any of the details of his crime. "What was she like?"
"To tell you the honest truth, she looked sort of like you. But she was a lot different, of course. For one thing, she was a stripper."
"And she looked like me?" It was embarrassing, and also a little titillating. "Where did you know her?"
"Everywhere. I followed Patsy all over the country. I'd have done anything for her. As it turned out, I did five years for her, but that's another story. You cashing your check today?"
"No, I wait till Monday and go into town on my lunch hour.
"You don't cash it at the Happy Hour? They only charge you a buck."
"No. I've never been there." She'd heard of it, that watering place for the blue-collar workers as a rule, and young executives and engineers out for an occasional lark. "My father used to go there once in a while."
"But you've never seen it? You ought to, really." Looking at his check as he carefully folded it, he said, "You wouldn't get in any trouble there. It's really a nice place. If you wanted… well…"
"Yes?" Was he going to invite her there? Incredible.
"Well, I was thinking. If you wanted to cash your paycheck, if you wanted to sort of see how the other half lives, well, I'm going down there pretty quick and I'd see that all the boys treated you with respect. If you wanted to…"
Thank goodness it wasn't a direct invitation, for she'd feel bad about having to refuse it now that he was trying to be so nice. She smiled and said, "I'll think about dropping by. But there are a few things I have to finish up here first."
"I'll hang around there for an hour. I'll keep an eye out for you if you decide to drop by, Miss Dandridge."
She breathed a sigh of relief when he left. It was so nice to be called Miss Dandridge instead of the usual Laura. And it was nice to know that she'd handled the situation properly and had made him see the error of his ways. It gave her more confidence in her future as an executive. She thought about it some more as she worked, recalling the success her father had enjoyed in handling men. It was because he'd made it a point to know their personalities and their personal problems, their family life and the way they thought. And it wouldn't be so bad at the Happy Hour. Even without Coleman's dubious protection, none of the beer-drinking men would dare accost a secretary. If she went right away, before they all got roaring drunk, she could have a good look at the place, perhaps hear more of Perry Coleman's probably fictitious story, and cash her paycheck too.
Putting on her coat, she felt as if she was going on an interesting but dangerous tour of a ghetto. Outside, a soft summer rain was falling and as she drove through it she knew she wouldn't turn back. Seeing all the cars haphazardly parked around the rambling frame roadhouse, however, gave her pause. She might have changed her mind and driven right on if she hadn't seen Perry's car parked under the big locust tree, but then she parked her VW close to the road and wound her way through the cars, closer to the beckoning sounds of music and laughter.
The place was smoke-filled and raucous, and thick with people and smells. But it was exciting. She could feel as well as hear the beat of the juke box music as she stood in the doorway, looking over the heads of the rollicking workers, done with another week of toil. Miniskirted waitresses wended their way through the packed tables, carrying trays of beer, and three bartenders were being kept busy filling glasses and pitchers with the foamy brew. Laura was a bit taken aback by the vibrancy of the whole scene, and it startled her when Perry spoke close to her ear.
"I've got us a table over here," he said.
No one tried to grab her when she passed, but a lot of heads turned, and she was relieved to be able to sit down in a corner, all but out of sight.
He grinned broadly at her, looking younger than he usually did, and better too in jeans and sport shirt instead of his usual coveralls. "I'm sure glad you could drop in, Miss Dandridge. Would you like a beer? They've got it in bottles."
If anything, she'd planned to have a coke, but she was charmed by his offering her a bottled beer, as if it was the champagne of the Happy Hour. He beamed when she accepted, and he called the waitress over. She was pretty in a common sort of way, and of course, she knew Perry Coleman.
He said to her, very proudly, "Annie, this is one of my bosses, Miss Dandridge."
Laura smiled her best and said, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Annie. But I'm not his boss. I'm just a secretary."
"She came down to cash her check. Would you do it for her, Annie? And bring us a couple of beers. Draft for me, bottled for Miss Dandridge… the best."
The place was fascinating and so was his story. It was hard to concentrate on both at once, but as she sipped her beer, she got the general picture of both. The men there were all spending an appreciable amount of their week's pay, money which they needed to keep their households going. But it was well spent, for they all needed a chance to blow off some steam. Everyone did, and at times that included her. And Perry had done a terrible thing in counterfeiting that money, but he'd done it in the name of misdirected love and even people like Perry Coleman were susceptible to love. Just as she was.
She thought she could feel her second bottle of beer, and that was strange, for she'd been able to drink two or three beers with her father without having any ill effects. Listening to his story, looking around, she decided she was feeling more of the excitement of her surroundings than she was of the small amount of alcohol she'd had. She was glad she'd come. It was good to feel this kind of excitement now and then, and good to see how other people lived. And when he asked her about herself, she found he was a very good listener and she enjoyed telling about herself and her ambitions as she drank her third beer.