HER PLUMP LIPS
(Stick-Up-Man: Part 2)
"Spread my legs? Stick, You don't want me to do that. It wouldn't be fair to you. I have no wish to sentence, even you, to the life I have led this past year."
"What! Talk fast bitch, or I will do you right here on the dirty floor."
Taking off her work slacks, she peeled down to a pair of skimpy white shorts. "Look, as you can see, I'm willing to disrobe and cooperate. But I feel by law, I must tell you that I have crabs--herpes too--it's active. I'm broke out bad. Above and below."
"You lying slut. I don't believe you . . . "
"Don't. But fuck me at either end, and you will have to live with the consequences.""
"You're shittin' me! Show me proof whore! A prescription bottle. Something!"
"No problem. I just had my acyclovir refilled. It's in my book bag. My medical history's there too. In my notebook. It's all in the employee's restroom. See for yourself."
"Stay right here, or do I have to tie you down?"
"Suit yourself . . . "
"I'm checking your bag and eating. And you better damn well be telling me the truth--if you've got a brain in your head--don't try any funny stuff. Stay put!"
"Stick, where could I go? There's only one door, and you'll be right outside of it."
Grabbing the ring of keys off her desk, he jerked the telephone cord out of the wall. Making a face he snarled, "You disgust me! Where is your sense of social responsibility? Haven't you ever heard of safe-sex? Don't you care about the needs of people like me?"
Stomping out he locked the door and headed towards the hot dog machine hoping to feed his bleeding ulcer, buy time before the jig was up.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Heart racing and her breathing labored, Ann fought to control her shaking legs and subdue her terror as she silently rolled the big rug off the trap door that led down to the floor safe.
She'd been down there before. The boss had shown her the whole set up--how to escape from the safe-room's tunnel leading out to the alley--he'd built it after his daughter was nearly raped by a student enraged by his political free speech posters.
Making her way through a thick hedge of thorny bushes, she cut through back yards and made her way three miles away to her Uncle Harry's produce farm on the edge of town.
Frantically pounding on the door, she was about ready to break its side window, when Cormick, a former classmate staying at her uncle's, snuck up behind her and threw his arms around her. He knew it was her. From the rear she looked as good as she had fifteen years ago.
Swinging her around he sang out, "Ann, damn! I was hoping to see you." Confronted with her crazed eyes he cupped her face. "What is it Ann? What in hell is wrong?"
* * * * * * * * * * *
In a panic attack and hyperventilating, she clung to him, trembling and too out of breath to answer. Once inside the house, he led her to the comfy bar in the family room and poured them both big frosty draft beers and set out a basket of peanuts in the shell.
Shaking his head in disbelief he sat on the bar stool next to her and kept encouraging her to talk. Bit by bit she spit it all out as he held her hand and brushed away her tears.
Angry and wanting to pound the shit out of anyone who'd dare do this to his little sweetheart, he was dismayed when half an hour later he felt himself grow hard and shift on the bar stool.
Every time she looked up at him her watery blue eyes locked with his, and every time her mouth formed a word, he wanted to touch her bright red lips and run his fingers through her long corn silk hair. But that wouldn't be right he told himself, he needed to concentrate on the moment, be there emotionally for her in her time of need.
"Ann. I'm pretty sure I know who this Stick guy is. He sounds like that that big shot attorney, who was here years ago at that so-called-political rally at Wolf's Town Hall. You know the old one that sits near that hippy militia settlement near the state forest . . . ? "
"Yeah. I think I do, it was before that bombing in Oklahoma City with that militia guy Terry what's his name."
"Ann. It was all the news here. It finally came out this bird invested tons of money overseas while essentially telling others it was their constitutional right not to pay income tax--that if they ran into any problems--that was HIS speciality to defend them in a court of law. He topped it all off by saying in the next election, he was running for President--needed their support--that if they stood behind him, he'd stand behind them."
"I DO remember THAT. I was sitting up front when one of the guys in camouflage came up and shook my hand and called me the new 'First Lady' thinking I was his wife."
"You didn't know it, but at the time, I was working for the feds undercover. I got it all on tape. I actually got a kick out of it . . . every time the guy looked at you from the podium, he became flustered and lost his place."
Laughing for the first time in hours, Ann nodded her head. "Yeah, IF it's him, he sure has gone down hill. The man I remember was a fit handsome devil. Charismatic. I was positive he had the hots for me when after the meeting he invited me to join him and his friend on his Chicago yacht."
"Well, don't hold that against him, it actually makes him seem less crazy. Did he fleece you out of any money?"
"No. I was looking for investments at the time, but there was too much that didn't add up about him. Philosophically, he turned me off."
Chuckling at her innocence he hugged her. "Philosophically?"
"Yeah. At first he seemed OK, but when I started digging, I found no depth. No heart? No values? Not sure what it was. But when he side-stepped questions, I began to suspect he was on a power trip, that he played to the audience fears. That perhaps he was no better than the enemy he portrayed."
"Sounds like you guessed the guy was a sociopath," he said chuckling, "but what I want to know now, is did you lie to Stick about the crabs?"
"Yeah, I lied. About the herpes too, I HAD to do something. I only prayed he'd take time to eat and drink before he searched my book bag for the evidence and found none."
"Hey, Ann, DON'T apologize, it was brilliant. I applaud you."
"Thanks. With no gun, I used my wits and got lucky."
"Let's stop talking about him Ann. You're safe right now, and I'm going to see you stay that way."
It was a ridiculous promise, yet he would have promised her anything. Sitting there on that bar stool in her sexy shorts, crossing and uncrossing her legs like that was driving him crazy. Worst of all, she kept talking. Talk, talk, talk. All he could do was think of her mouth. Her plump lips. The juiciness of them and how he longed for her to shut-up and feel her suck his cock into her mouth.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
To Be Continued: Stick-UP-Man (Part 3)
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Babe
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