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*Author’s Note: Any and all persons engaging in any sexual activity are at least eighteen years of age.
Just a flash story; a rather dark, sordid little flash story.
Lilah’s divorce from Derek went through with no trouble; he did not want anyone to find out he’d been hiring young black studs to fuck his pretty blonde wife. And even though the ink had not even been dry on their marriage certificate, Lilah still received fifty thousand dollars from Derek.
She now had a college diploma, and a teaching certificate, but absolutely no employment history to speak of. A recruiting agency found very few prospects that were suitable; Lilah was not about to teach at an inner city school in Detroit, or Chicago, or Philadelphia, no matter how good the starting salary might be.
“Stephanie, may I call you Stephanie? Stephanie, I’ve got three little girls,” Lilah told an agent with the recruiting agency. “And I’m not about to put them in any situation that’s as dangerous as that. You can understand that, can’t you, Stephanie?”
But still those offers kept coming.
The principal of McKenna High School, her high school when she’d been a student had retired. But Lilah called her anyway.
“Lilah, Lilah Quentin?” the woman said, voice still just as strong as it had been fourteen years earlier. “Of course I remember you. Selfish, self-centered little cunt; thought her shit didn’t stink, thought the world owed her something. And how can I help you?”
The woman burst out laughing when Lilah told her she’d become a teacher. Lilah hung up and continued to search for a job on-line.
“Stepping Stone, Louisiana,” Lilah mused. “Where the hell is that?”
“Louisiana’s between Mississippi and Texas,” Hannah, her twelve year old daughter informed her.
“I know where Louisiana is; I meant where Stepping Stone is?” Lilah snapped, resisting the urge to slap the spoiled brat.
“Oh, we don’t like when our daughter’s a smart mouthed little bitch?” Lilah’s mother asked.
“Yes Mother, I know, Mother, I was a horrible child, Mother,” Lilah snapped.
“And not much of an adult either,” her mother said. “Might remember whose house this is, Dear.”
“And I’m grateful you’re letting us stay here,” Lilah spat the words out.
Lilah googled Stepping Stone and saw that the nearest large city was Alexandria. The next largest town was two hours north, Monroe Louisiana.
“God, it’s in the middle of nowhere,” she said.
“And you said that about Matthew, North Carolina when I moved here,” her mother reminded her.
“No, Mother, really, it is in the middle of nowhere,” Lilah insisted. “Nearest town is Alexandria and Alexandria’s not much more than Matthew is.”
Lilah shrugged and sent the school administration her resume and stock cover letter and continued her job search.
The following Monday, buried among the emails from the recruiting agency stating they’d found her the perfect job in Washington D.C. and Baltimore, Maryland and Detroit, Michigan, was a response from John F. Kennedy High School, in Stepping Stone, Louisiana.
“Go Cougars,” Lilah laughed as she read the email from Mrs. Abramson.
But now she had a very difficult decision to make. Spoiled brats or not, Hannah, Robin, and Shannon were her children. Leaving them here, their father would get custody of them. Knowing Brandon Durst, the man would probably try to sue her for child support. John F. Kennedy High School was offering her twenty eight thousand a year, plus health and dental and a matched 4O1K plan. According to the email, there was even a single wide trailer she could rent for three hundred and fifty dollars a month. The trailer had been vacated by the previous History teacher.
If she took Hannah, Robin, and Shannon, she could only imagine what Hell they would make her life, and the lives of their teachers at David Treen Elementary School and Lindy Boggs Middle School.
She called Linda Smith, her best friend and the two women met for coffee.
“Honestly?” Linda said. “I mean, please don’t get me wrong; they’re my goddaughters, you know I love them to death, but go. Go. Let Brandon put up with those snotty little bitches he helped bring into this world. You can get them on holidays and on summer breaks.”
She fired the recruiting agency, citing their shoddy performance as the reason, sent an acceptance email to Mrs. Abramson, and called Brandon Durst.
“Well, I uh, see, I been…” Brandon stammered when Lilah said she would be relinquishing primary custody of their daughters.
“What, Brandon?” Lilah snapped. “You been bitching and bitching child support’s killing you and you been bitching and bitching that you never get to see them.”
“Yeah, but I’m kind of seeing this woman, I mean, shit, Lilah, they hate Shaquisha and truth is, she wanted to kill Hannah last weekend,” Brandon casino şirketleri said.
“Welcome to my world, Brandon,” Lilah said.
They again met in front of a judge who approved transferring primary custodial care to Brandon. Shaquisha could not leave quickly enough. The judge also ordered Lilah to pay seven fifty a month in child support to Mr. Durst.
Stepping Stone, Louisiana had a grocery store and a liquor store. Mrs. Abramson made sure to point out the liquor store’s hours of business.
“We actually get all the high school children from Turning Point and East Turn, as well as Stepping Stone,” the woman said as they toured the small cinderblock building. “You will be the History Teacher, as well as the Homeroom Advisor for the senior class. This year we have a record number of students in the twelfth grade. There will be twenty nine students; seventeen females and twelve males.”
They paused in front of the classroom and Mrs. Abramson produced a key and handed it to Lilah.
“After you,” she said.
There were thirty desks, five rows of six desks each. There was a dry erase board behind a large wooden desk. On the desk were four cardboard boxes and Mrs. Abramson clapped happily.
“Oh, the new books came in!” she cried and ran to open the boxes.
“If you don’t mind my asking,” Lilah said as they examined the boxes of books. “Why did the last History teacher leave?”
“Passed away,” was all the older woman would say.
Lilah made sure the classroom was again locked up then went to the single grocery store. The cashier was a woman that appeared to be in her seventies; she still sported a beehive hairdo and chatted pleasantly as she slowly, meticulously rang up each item.
The manager of the trailer park, an attractive brunette woman, came over and helped Lilah unload her groceries as a late summer thunderstorm had suddenly popped up.
Lilah’s single wide trailer was neatly furnished, functional, sturdy furniture. The closet in the main bedroom was empty, but the closet in the second bedroom held some women’s clothing. Lilah had not had time to look through any of the drawers; she was in a hurry to get to JFK High School, for her meeting with Mrs. Abramson.
“Thanks, uh, Dianna, right?” Lilah said, as they carried the last two bags from car trunk to small kitchen.
“Dinah,” the woman smiled, not offended that Lilah did not remember her name, even though they’d just met two and a half hours earlier.
“Here, let me get you a towel; you’re soaked,” Lilah said. “Don’t want you catching your death of cold.”
She went into the bathroom that adjoined the main bedroom and grabbed a towel from the cabinet. Returning to the small kitchen, she saw that Dinah had already pulled off her sodden sundress. The woman stood, nude, except for her platform soled sandals.
The woman’s breasts rivaled Lilah’s 36 Double D breasts in size. Lilah’s areole were half-dollar sized and her nipples, when fully erect, were fat little thimble sized.
Dinah’s areole were silver dollar sized and her nipples, which stood out, erect and proud, were almost thumb sized.
Lilah kept her blonde thatch trimmed to a neat triangle, but Dinah’s brown forest reached from navel to upper thighs and stretched from hip to hip. Even as thick as the woman’s pubic jungle was, Lilah could see that Dinah’s fat pussy lips hung down out of the thicket, two dark pink meat curtains.
“Um, uh, here,” Lilah stammered, handing the smiling woman the thick towel.
“Thanks, Sugar,” Dinah smiled and quickly rubbed herself down. “But, you got yourself all soaked too.”
She reached out and unbuttoned the first button on Lilah’s blouse.
“Let’s get you out of them wet things,” she said.
Lilah had never been with another woman; even when she was in high school. Valerie and Nadine, two of the cheerleaders had enjoyed each other, even though both girls were dating boys. Valerie had flitted from football player to football player in high school, while Nadine was engaged to a mysterious young man that was in the US Marines that no one had ever seen.
Once, when they were away at a Quarter Finals football game in Tallahassee, Valerie, Nadine, and Lilah had shared a motel room. Lilah watched, fascinated, sickened, titillated as Valerie and Nadine licked, sucked, and finger fucked each other to orgasm. Valerie had offered to do the same for Lilah, but Lilah had not been bold enough to get off her motel bed and join them on the other motel bed.
Dinah kissed Lilah as she helped the blonde out of her wet blouse and bra, then toweled the exposed flesh.
Lilah felt an odd, slightly uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach, but did not back away as Dinah slid her skirt and panties down her slim legs.
“Oh, what a pretty pussy,” Dinah complimented. “Hate this prissy little bitches shave it casino firmaları all bald; just unnatural.”
She then toweled Lilah’s hips, buttocks, and legs, kneeling in front of Lilah.
Then Lilah moaned as Dinah’s tongue snaked out and licked at Lilah’s slit.
“Bed or couch?” Dinah asked.
“Bed,” Lilah moaned and the two women walked into the bedroom.
Lilah entered the bedroom and crawled onto the bed. Dinah crawled in right behind her and grabbed Lilah’s hips.
“Oh!” Lilah gasped as Dinah’s tongue wormed into her sweaty anus.
Dinah slurped noisily as she tongued Lilah’s anus, then flattened her tongue and dragged it up and down Lilah’s light pink pussy lips.
Lilah shuddered as the attractive woman forced her tongue into Lilah’s pussy, then groaned when the woman found her small clitoris. She jerked when Dinah also jammed a finger into her spittle wetted anus.
“Shit!” she cried out in her very sudden, surprising orgasm.
Dinah sucked the essence from Lilah’s pussy lips before again licking and thrusting her tongue into Lilah’s pussy. She added a second finger to Lilah’s anus and began corkscrewing them in and out while continuing to tease Lilah’s pussy and clitoris.
“Shit!” Lilah screamed as a second orgasm racked her body.
Then Dinah urged Lilah onto her beck and kissed Lilah’s gasping mouth. Dinah kept her two fingers inside of Lilah’s ass while the two women kissed, large breasts rubbing against large breasts.
Lilah could taste herself on Dinah’s lips and tongue and found her taste to be quite exciting.
“Love a nice tight ass,” Dinah complimented as she continued to fuck Lilah’s ass with her fingers.
Then the woman swiveled around and straddled Lilah’s face.
Lilah looked up in the semi-darkness as Dinah pressed her very wet pussy down.
Dinah’s pussy had a very strong odor, as if Dinah had not washed it in a while. Lilah fought down her revulsion as she licked and sucked the heavy pussy lips that hung down.
“Aw yeah,” Dinah encouraged as she bent to tongue Lilah’s anus and then Lilah’s pussy.
Lilah licked and sucked Dinah’s hairy pussy until the woman stiffened, then grunted as she squirted Lilah’s face with her orgasm.
“Aw yeah, going love having you as a tenant,” Dinah said as she rolled off of Lilah’s face.
Later, still nude, the two women sat at Lilah’s small kitchen table, drinking coffee. The thunderstorm had passed and the sun was out, turning the minimal rainfall into steam.
“Whenever you see Louisiana in the movies? They always showing us sitting on the porch, drinking iced tea,” Dinah said. “Shit yeah, we drink plenty iced tea, but I bet we drink a whole bunch more coffee.”
“Same thing with Florida,” Lilah agreed. “And North Carolina. I honestly can’t tell you last time I had iced tea.”
Dinah looked through the blinds over the large kitchen window and nodded wither head.
“And there’s our very own beauty queen,” Dinah said disapprovingly.
Lilah watched as a young woman climbed the ladder into the trailer park’s above-ground swimming pool. From behind, the girl had a phenomenal body, and had a very succulent looking ass, highlighted by her black thong.
Her hair was long, reaching down to just above her thong, and was a lovely shade of reddish blonde, strawberry blonde.
Then the girl turned around to walk down the ladder into the pool. She had a beatific smile; the water nice and cool in the brutal summer humidity.
Her breasts were large, barely contained by the scraps of black bikini, and her pregnant belly stuck out; she appeared to be about seven or eight months pregnant.
“Renee Walker,” Dinah spat, her dislike quite evident. “Nineteen years old, and that’s already her second baby.”
“Poor girl,” Lilah sympathized, knowing what it was like to be a young lady and pregnant.
“Wonder if that’s her brother’s baby, or maybe her Daddy’s,” Dinah suggested and Lilah looked shocked.
“Oh, come on Honey,” Dinah laughed. “Around here? Pumpkin ain’t a vegetable, it’s a past-time.”
Lilah thought about that for a moment, then smiled and shrugged.
Dinah looked out the window again as the pregnant girl got onto one of the blow-up mattresses and lazily floated around the small pool.
“Would just love to fist fuck that smile right off that little bitch’s face,” she said.
Again Lilah looked shocked. Dinah smirked.
“Oh, just you wait,” she said. “You’ll find out; she’s in your eleventh grade class.”
“Thought you said she’s nineteen,” Lilah asked.
“She is,” Dinah shrugged, a movement that made her large breast jiggle. “But, long as she’s in school? Government sends her a nice fat check.”
Then they heard a cell phone chime. Dinah reached for her sundress and pulled her cell phone out of her pocket.
“Uh huh,” güvenilir casino she said. “Dumb ass husband locked himself out again,” she said and pulled the dress on over her head.
She sloppily kissed Lilah, using a lot of tongue.
“Going love having you as a tenant, Sugar,” she said, then let herself out of the trailer.
Lilah got dressed in just shorts and tee shirt, neglecting to put on a bra. She finished hanging up her clothing in the main bedroom and flattened the boxes. She then put her cosmetics onto the small countertop in the bathroom, and put her shampoo and soap into the shower stall, pushing aside the shampoo and conditioner that Ms. Proust had left behind.
Back in the bedroom, Lilah opened another box and found a photograph album, pictures of her girls. She slid open the nightstand drawer and found four dildos. There was one small one, about six inches in length and as big around as a roll of quarters. There was another one, probably eight inches long and heavily veined. The third vibrator made Lilah wince; it was the circumference of a large juice can, with a large flared cock head.
The fourth one was also eight inches long, and had a harness attached. Lilah wondered about this, until she realized, it was a strap on cock.
She saw some alligator clips and realized they were nipple clamps. There was also a large jar of a desensitizing lubricant in the drawer.
She gathered up the offensive items and dumped them into a small box and put the photograph album into the drawer.
There was a knock at the door and Lilah was seized with a little fear. She hoped it was not Dinah; she had enjoyed Dinah’s tongue and fingers on her pussy and ass, but had been glad for the coffee that purged the heavy taste of Dinah’s pussy from her mouth.
The peephole showed the smiling face of Renee Walker so Lilah opened the door.
“Hey,” the girl happily greeted her. “I’m Renee, I’m be a junior at JFK; God, can’t believe it’s almost time go back, you?”
“Well, hello Renee,” Lilah said. “I’m Ms. Quentin; I’ll be your History teacher.”
“I know,” Renee said pleasantly, happy smile on her beautiful face. “I mean, I was real sad when Ms. Proust died but, hey, you know? It happens.”
The girl’s breasts had to be at least an E cup, if not an F cup, the black triangles of her bikini top barely covering the hard nipples.
“So, um, how far along are you?” Lilah politely asked as the girl took a seat at the small kitchen table.
“Hmm? I don’t know, about eight I think,” the girl said, rubbing her swollen belly.
The girl declined coffee or juice, just sat and chatted pleasantly. Lilah deduced that Renee wasn’t the sharpest knife in the drawer, probably part of the reason she was nineteen and just now entering the eleventh grade.
“Yeah, failed seventh grade,” Renee shrugged, a movement that caused her large breasts to jostle against each other. “Then done it again in the ninth grade; God, that was a hard grade!”
Lilah found out, just as Dinah had said, this was baby number two for Renee. The girl shrugged and admitted she didn’t know what had become of her first baby, a biracial girl.
“Gave it up for adoption,” she said, again shrugging, shaking her heavy breasts.
“And this one?” Lilah asked.
“Shit, already signed the papers give it up,” Renee said.
Mrs. Abramson told Lilah that at least forty percent of the female students would become pregnant at least once before graduation. She also informed Lilah that at least fifty percent of the overall student body would not graduate at all.
“There’s no real incentive,” she admitted woefully. “Even if they could, most of these people just do not have enough money to go to college. They’re in that horrible limbo; too rich for Government Assistance, but too poor to pay for anything on their own. Most of our students are from single parent households and their families owe more to their credit cards than they’ll ever make in a lifetime.”
“So what are we doing, then?” Lilah asked.
Us? We’re babysitting them until they leave here,” Mrs. Abramson said. “At least here? They can get a free breakfast and lunch, and maybe, just maybe, we’ll be able to show one or two of them there might be another way to live.”
“Good God, what have I gotten myself into?” Lilah asked herself later that day as she stopped at the liquor store.
Trying to decide what liquor to buy, vodka, gin, or possibly whiskey, Lilah felt a pang of loss for her former life. The life she’d had before her one-night stand with Michael Bae. One where she was just a mom and a housewife.
“God damn you to Hell, Michael Bae,” she thought bitterly as she selected a half gallon each of no-name vodka, no-name gin, and no-name whiskey.
“Whoa, having you a little party?” the man asked genially from behind his thick bullet-proof glass.
“Yeah, a party of one,” Lilah smiled tightly.
And that’s it; just a quick little flash story, a rather dark flash story. But I do thank you for taking the time to read my stories.
Have a warm and fuzzy day.
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