Chapter 2

Jackie’s pussy was covered by a dense thick carpet of blonde curls. When she spread her legs, Daphne could see Jackie’s light pink inner lips, plump and shiny with Jackie’s excitement. Using her hands, Daphne forced the older woman’s thighs apart and brought her face close to Jackie’s furry crotch. The scent wafting from the older woman’s pussy was overwhelming; she needed to taste the woman’s nectar. Flattening her tongue, Daphne dragged her tongue along the puffy lips from bottom to top. Then using her fingers, she opened Jackie’s slit and delved her tongue into the woman’s honey pot.

Finding Jackie’s clitoris was easy; the woman had a clitoral piercing. The heavy gold ring actually went through the hood of her clitoris and Daphne vreifly thought of how maddening it must be; to have that ring rub, rub, rub constantly against her clitoris.

“Oh dear God, yes!” Jackie cried out and Daphne felt her face become wet.

She lapped at Jackie’s essences while the woman grunted and bucked. Then when the woman settled her magnificent buttocks onto the plush leather seat once more, Daphne located Jackie’s clitoris again.

“Oh, oh dear girl, you, you must stop,” Jackie cried out in a second orgasm.

Franklin heard a soft chime. He allowed his eyes to flicker down from the traffic to observe that the car was in need of refueling. He and his employer had been cruising aimlessly for nearly four hours now and the large automobile was quite greedy in fuel consumption. He looked up and gently eased on the brake pedal as an immature young man swerved onto the highway from a convenience store’s parking lot. The young man seemed to believe that Franklin was at fault and flipped Franklin the middle finger.

“Oh, you wish, buddy,” Franklin smiled tightly. “I was in my truck? Ain’t no way you’d even think twice of doing that shit.”

He pressed the button for the intercom. When the channel was open, he could hear his employer’s cries of pleasure and her odd screeching and squalling music.

“Ma’am, I am stopping to refuel the automobile,” he declared, then cut the connection.

He did not feel comfortable eavesdropping on his employer’s private moments. He did congratulate her on her skillful seduction of the young passenger, even feeling a little twinge in his trousers. But it was a private moment and should be treated with decorum, with respect.

“Even if you are one classless broad, don’t mean I got to be classless,” he smirked as he pulled off of the highway into a gas station.

Stepping out of the automobile, he approached the pump, slid the card in and pressed the correct buttons. Hefting the nozzle from the pump, he began to fill the tank. He looked over when the rear window of the limousine slid down. He fought down the smirk as the young passenger squealed in alarm.

“Hey, Franklin?” Jackie called out, smiling blissfully from the rear seat.

“Yes, Mrs. Zuna,” he said, eyes fixed on her lively blue eyes, not on her nude breasts that were plainly visible through the open window.

“We need to stop off at Rosenberg’s?” Jackie announced as Daphne attempted to cower behind Jackie, hiding her nude body.

“Yes ma’am. Are they expecting us?” Franklin asked as the pump continued to fill the tank.

“Uh huh. I just called them; Daphne quit! He can’t see you. He isn’t even looking at you. Quit,” Jackie said then turned to giggle at her acquaintance’s antics.

“Oh, I can see her just fine,” Franklin thought as he caught sight of ripe breasts and a delightfully hairless mound.

“Very well, ma’am,” Franklin said, turning when the pump clicked off.

He watched the two nude women out of his peripheral field of vision as he replaced the nozzle into the pump. The young woman did have very nice breasts, capped with light brown areolae and hard nipples. Her pubic mound was hairless and pronounced; he was able to see a flash of light pink labia before the window again slid up.

Isaac Rosenberg knew his clientele. Therefore, his boutique was in a modern glass and steel building. Isaac had his nineteen year old son come out every morning, even Sundays and Mondays when they were closed and hose each black glass panel with ammonia and water, then use the squeeze attached to a thirty two foot pole. The exterior of the Rosenberg Building gleamed each day.

His twenty three year old daughter Sarah sat in the small lobby of the building to greet each person. The lobby had very uncomfortable modern chairs for their clientele and hopeful clientele to endure while they waited for an audience with Isaac Rosenberg. The beautiful young woman wore nothing but Rosenberg creations as she sat, the haughty queen of her domain. Those that were on the list were ushered into the belly of the viewing area; those that were not on the list would sit and wait to be granted permission to enter the viewing area. Sarah would make those unfortunate visitors wait for as long as three hours. Depending on their demeanor, depending on how much they groveled, they would either be sent away or finally allowed to enter the inner domain of Isaac Rosenberg.

Sarah looked up when a handsome, well-dressed African-American entered the lobby. Even though the very sight of the man caused her panties to dampen considerably, she still curled her lip up in a sniff and sneer.

“Franklin,” Franklin said, smirking at the haughty condescension of the receptionist. “Under the employ of Jacqueline Zuna.”

“Jac… Oh! Oh yes, yes sir!” Sarah straightened her posture immediately. “Will Ms. Zuna be…”

“Sarah, she called an order in,” Isaac Rosenberg himself came from the viewing area. “Please get our guest a coffee. Or would you perhaps prefer a tea? Some sparkling water?”

“I would prefer to be given Ms. Zuna’s order. Now,” Franklin said, peaking to these people in the only language they understood; the language of contempt.

“Oh, oh yes, of course,” Isaac said. “We, we are gathering it together right now.”

“You know, Steeples on forty ninth…” Franklin suggested and Isaac bustled through the double doors, barking orders loudly.

Three minutes later, four harried looking young women bustled out, each carrying three or four boxes. Franklin led the procession of well-dressed, young, beautiful women outside to the idling limousine. Opening the trunk of the large automobile, he silently pointed and the four women hurried to place the boxes into the trunk. With a curt nod, he dismissed the assistants and slammed the trunk shut, almost catching the fingers of one girl that was not quick enough.

Entering the limousine once more, Franklin allowed a smile to flit across his face. Damn but that felt good, putting those pretentious jerks in their place.

Exiting the nearly empty parking lot of the Rosenberg Building, Franklin took a hunch and drove toward the Coats; the poorer section of town. The Coats was called the Coats because real estate companies would buy up the lower middle class homes, slap a new coat of paint on them and sell them at grossly inflated prices to families that could ill afford them. When the housing bubble burst, most of these people lost everything, every penny of their investments. And, the mortgage holders would simply slap another coat of paint on and sell them for grossly inflated prices to people that could ill afford them. The cycle merely repeated with no real adjustment.

“Never ending mother fucking cycle of low-life cocksuckers just fucking people over can’t do no better for themselves,” Franklin muttered, averting his eyes as he drove past his Nana’s former home.

“On the other side of the road was his Aunt Sherri’s home. Franklin shook his head at the faded blue door; that door had been blue for as long as he could remember.

“Franklin?” Mrs. Zuna’s voice cut into his thoughts.

“Yes ma’am?” he asked.

“Franklin; three of those boxes? They should have had a red ‘check mark’ on them,” Jackie’s voice said.

“Yes ma’am?” Franklin asked, braking suddenly when a dog ran right in front of the automobile.

A millisecond later, a small girl raced directly in front of the limousine, yelling at her puppy. Franklin looked over at the horrified face of the girl’s mother, who also gave chase.

“Ma’am, if you’re too politically correct beat that child’s ass for running into the street? I will be happy to do it for you,” Franklin mumbled through gritted teeth.

“Yes ma’am; please let me pull into a lighted area,” Franklin asked his employer.

“Okay; take your time,” Jackie said happily. “We’re still…”

The connection was cut short. Franklin ascertained that young mother, child and puppy were safely on the lawn of a dilapidated wooden home before accelerating away. He turned left on the next street and headed toward the parking lot of the neighborhood supermarket.

Pulling into the parking lot of the decrepit, decades-old market, Franklin found a parking space near one of the few working lamps. Looking around the dimly lighted parking lot, he did not see anyone lurking in the shadows, but that did not mean that they were not there. It just meant that they were not visible. He unbuttoned his jacket so that his nine millimeter handgun was visible and opened the door.

Daphne was perched on the edge of the leather seat, legs spread wide. Daphne’s heels were on the seat, bracing herself open for Jackie. Jackie knelt on the floor between Daphne’s spread legs, licking and fingering Daphne’s pussy with gusto. Jackie had also worked two fingers into Daphne’s anus, sending delicious, naughty ripples through Daphne’s body. Daphne ground her teeth, so close to orgasm, but Jackie seemed determined to keep Daphne on the very precipice for as long as possible.

“Oh! Oh God, please,” Daphne whined as, once again, Jackie brought her to the very edge of climax only to edge away again.

She felt the car come to a stop. That odd music kept playing, muffling any external sounds; Jackie had told Daphne what the music was, but Daphne couldn’t remember anything at that moment. All of her feelings, all of her thoughts were centered in her pussy.

“Know what? I think I might be gay,” Jackie giggled, pulling out of their kiss.

“I, shit! I, I don’t know,” Daphne giggled, feeling heavy in limb and in thought.

Bringing her mouth down to Daphne’s drooling pussy, Jackie finally relented, granting Daphne the much needed orgasm. Daphne howled out in pleasure, grinding her balld pussy against Jackie’s face. Finally satiated, Daphne’s heels came to rest on the floor. Her head lolled back and she gasped for air.

“We need to; you said you live right up here?” Jackie said, fumbling around for her bra.

“Yeah, Fourteen ten Bradshaw; right behind the supermarket,” Daphne agreed, looking around as the limousine came to a stop.

“The Ichabod’s on Stallworth’s,” Jackie verified, looking through the tinted windows at the run-down façade of the supermarket.

“Uh huh; you ever had the Ichabod’s chocolate swirl ice cream?” Daphne asked, looking at the grocery store’s main entrance.

“I, I haven’t had Ichabod’s in what? Twenty, twenty five years?” Jackie tittered, looking through the rear window as the trunk opened.

With small flashlight in hand, Franklin located the three packages. He gave a nod of acknowledgement to Isaac Rosenberg; the three packages had been grouped together. Remembering the order that the four assistants had ferried the Rosenberg packages to the trunk, the red checkmarked boxes had been the first to be placed into the trunk.

Slamming the trunk closed, Franklin approached the rear driver’s side window. He assumed his employer would be at the driver’s side, rather than the passenger side. His hunch was correct; Mrs. Zuna lowered the window, smiling a beatific smile as she held out her hands for the boxes. Seeing the nude girl sprawled on the seat next to the passenger window, Franklin handed the packages to Mrs. Zuna, one at a time. Glancing back at his employer’s face, Franklin could see the sparkle in the woman’s eyes. His tactic of delaying the transfer of packages had been noted by the woman.

“Nope. She ain’t stupid,” Franklin smiled as the rear window slid up. “Absolutely without class, but not stupid.”

“Okay, here, here’s the panties,” Jackie said, opening the first box. “Oh! I swear; once you’ve worn Isaac’s panties? You’ll never want to wear anything else ever again.”

Daphne was not sure what kind of cloth the panties were made from but her crotch and buttocks felt as if they were draped in a breath, a soft, soothing breath.

Bra?” Daphne asked when Jackie opened the second box, revealing a short red cashmere halter top.

“Bra? You don’t wear a bra with tis,” Jackie said, showing Daphne that the garment was a halter top.

The lounging pants were also fire engine red cashmere and Daphne shivered as she slid the buttery soft material up her legs. The waist was cut low and the and the top ended just below her full breasts, leaving her cute belly bare. The third box was a pair of red leather sandals.

“Like I said, just a casual outfit, you know, for just lounging around in,” Jackie said, gently running her manicured fingernails along Daphne’s exposed back.

“Uh huh,” Daphne said, marveling at how soft and comfortable the clothing felt against her skin.

“When you hang it; use the cloth covered hangers; they’ll be in the flat box,” Jackie counseled.

“Wash this in gentle cycle?” Daphne asked, admiring the ensemble.

“You’re kidding, right? Dry clean, Sweetie,” Jackie said as Franklin parked in front of 1410Bradshaw Road.

“I uh, oh, okay,” Daphne said, trying to remember where a dry cleaner’s might be located.

They sat in an uncertain silence for a long moment. Jackie swept the empty boxes from the seat onto the floor and leaned over to kiss Daphne.

“I, I’m so glad we stopped to pick you up,” she whispered and kissed Daphne again.

“I, you kidding? I…” Daphne agreed.

“Oh! Oh, give me your phone number,” Jackie demanded, fishing her cell phone from her purse.

“I, aw, aw shit, damn it,” Daphne said. “My phone; Noah’s got my stupid phone.”

She gave the woman the phone number; hopefully she’d be able to retrieve her phone from Noah. Jackie added the number to her list of contacts, then happily kissed Daphne again.

“Franklin?” she asked, punching the intercom button again.

“Yes ma’am?” Franklin’s voice cut through a lively jazz tune.

“Please help Ms. Brown with her packages,” Jackie ordered.

“Of course, ma’am,” Franklin agreed and the connection was cut.

“Shit; thought my Nana’s neighborhood was bad,” Franklin muttered, glancing up and down the street before opening his car door.

Opening the trunk, he retrieved the four largest boxes, then slammed the trunk shut again. Then he patiently waited by the edge of the driveway.

Daphne and Jackie kissed again. Then, slowly pulling away, Daphne put her hand on the door handle. She felt like there was something she should say to the beautiful older woman, but could not think of anything.