Ugly Things

"Well? Last night? Drank five of them then just passed out," he reminded her.

"Whatever," she grumbled but did not drink a fourth one.

In his bedroom, she quickly divested herself of battered old tennis shoes, football jersey and bra and jeans. Then Sage watched as Robin meticulously took off his suit slacks and dress shirt. Her eyes widened at the sight of his seven inch erection.

Her boyfriend Tommy had told her, for a white boy, he was really packing. Tommy had a five inch cock, and told Sage that this was larger than average.

Robin must be on the somewhat freakish side then. His cock was long, and thick, with a beautiful mushroom shaped head. There was a tuft of brown hair that framed the cock, and underneath hung a fur covered pouch that held Robin's large egg shaped testicles.

They kissed, hungrily, frantically, hands touching each other's bodies. Then Robin bent and suckled on Sage's nipple.

"Fuck," Sage hissed.

Her nipples were extremely sensitive; she could often make herself orgasm by tugging and twisting her nipples.

When Robin bit down on her nipple, Sage actually did orgasm, loudly.

Then his cock was pressed to the entrance of her pussy.

"Go slow, I've never..." she moaned, trying to pull him into her.

Losing her virginity did hurt and there was a good amount of bleeding. So she did not orgasm from the first time they made love.

But the second and third time was magic and she had several screaming orgasms as he pounded his fat cock in and out of her pussy. When he rolled onto his back and made her ride him, Sage screamed, cursed, shook her way through orgasm after orgasm.

Then they slept.

Again, Sage cursed at him when he woke her in the morning, kissed him and told him to leave her alone. She squealed when he slapped her naked ass, then gave him a second kiss.

Robin started his day at Boudreaux Ford. Sales were brisk, and the mechanics were also rolling. He kept one eye on the clock, and at eleven thirty, sent Sage a text that he'd be picking her up for lunch.

"Really? You're leaving again?" Jordan asked Robin when Robin started for his car.

"Hey," Robin smiled. "I'm the boss? Not supposed tell the boss how do his job, huh?"

Sage was not ready to leave. In fact, Sage was still in his bed, still nude.

They made love, although Sage laughed when Robin called it making love.

"You call it whatever you want," she laughed. "Just fuck me."

At one thirty, he pulled her out of his bed and ordered her to dress. Then he took her to Dusty's for lunch.

After lunch, he drove her to her home. Again, everywhere he looked, it depressed him. If Sage noticed the desolation around her, she did not reflect it as she chattered happily.

Chapter 8

Sage was chatting with Dolly, telling her about Robin, about their passionate night.

The doors slid open and Sage turned to greet the customers.

"Listen up, bitch!" the young man screamed, brandishing a handgun. "Open the fucking cash register!"

Sage quickly hit the 'No Sale' button and the drawer popped open.

While she was hitting the 'No Sale' button, her left foot was frantically pumping on the silent alarm button.

"Come on, bitch, do it!" the young man screamed at Dolly.

Dolly wasn't moving fast enough to satisfy the meth head. He squeezed the trigger, there was a deafening roar, Dolly coughed and slumped to the floor.

"Fuck! See what you fucking made me do?" the young man screamed.

"Oh God, please! I don't want to die," Sage implored, crouching down underneath her open cash register drawer.

"Fuck! Now I got to kill you too!" the young man screamed, training his gun on Sage's terrified face.

"No you don't! I won't tell nobody!" Sage begged.

Just as he was about to squeeze the trigger, his face exploded in a mass of blood and bone. Sage heard the roar a nanosecond after the young man's face disappeared.

The rest of the night, Sage talked with the police, talked with Junior, sobbed over Dolly's life threatening injuries

And then Robin was there. She collapsed into his arms, sobbing and wailing; she'd almost died. There had been a gun pointed right at her head. The young meth head had been prepared to pull the trigger.

"She doesn't work here anymore," Robin firmly told Junior.

"I understand," Junior nodded somberly.

Robin drove the whimpering Sage to his house, undressed her and put her in bed. In the morning, he did not wake her, just quietly got ready for another day at work.

Robin met Sage's family. Fremonte earned himself twenty bucks by standing outside and keeping people away from Robin's Mustang.

Sage met Robin's mother. He said she was forty four, but in honesty, April Boudreaux looked nearly sixty. Her face was wrinkled and sagging, veins were visible underneath the pale skin on her face and her hands.

April's hands shook horribly, until she had her first drink. As soon as April managed to down her glass of St. Elizabeth's Premium Whiskey, her tremors lessened.

"Man, boy, love her yeah," April teased. "But how you find you one shorter t'an me huh?"

"Ooh wee, had do me some looking yeah," Robin's own accent thickened considerably as he talked with his mother.

"But Smit? T'at ain't no Cajun name no," April continued. "You even know how cook?"

"Yeah," Sage said and pantomimed dialing a telephone. "Hello, Domino's?"

After draining her second drink, April tried to show Sage how to cook. Sage was terrified of the heat, and when the frog legs started jumping in the cast iron skillet, she nearly fainted.

"Man! T'at just t'em nerves yeah," April tried to reassure the girl. "T'ey taste just like chicken."

"T'en why we ain't eating chicken?" Sage asked.

"Can't go giggin' me no chickens," April said.

"Mother, really!" Robin laughed. "Ain't no way you went giggin' no."

"Shush!" April giggled. "She don't know t'at!"

They ate lunch, and April managed to down four more drinks before Robin and Sage left. During the lunch, Sage also managed to down three drinks. So she was feeling happy and amorous.

"You uh, you see why I don't like it too much when you drink?" Robin asked.

"Huh?" Sage asked.

"I mean, I know she looks fine, but you see how drunk she got?" Robin continued.

He wiped at an angry tear.

"Love her, but she drinking herself to deat' yeah," he said.

Seeing how upset he was, Sage did make a concerted effort to curtail her drinking. The problem was, when she had one, Sage developed a thirst for a second drink. And a second only warmed her up for a third.

Sage's thirst grew worse when she skipped drinking altogether. The cravings were intolerable.

Over time, Sage did learn how to cook. She also learned how to clean. Her mother never cleaned the small apartment, unless someone spilled something. The act of scrubbing a toilet, or a tub or sink was foreign to Amy Smith, so she never passed this skill on to her daughters.

But Sage could see that Robin did clean his house, so she learned how to clean. She actually read the directions on the bottles of household cleaner and did exactly what it said to do on the bottle.

What?" Sage screamed at Robin when he came home and wanted sex. "I been cleaning all day, I cooked you supper and you want fuck too?"

"Yeah, Sage, women been cooking and cleaning and fucking since the beginning of time," Robin laughed.

"Well, it stopping here," she grumbled. "You get you a choice yeah. You can have you some smothered steak, or you can have you some pussy."

"Either one got rice or gravy come with it?" Robin asked.

"Aw you ass hole," Sage laughed and kissed him. "I love you yeah."

"And you been around my momma too much yeah," Robin commented. "You wasn't no little Cajun girl I met you no."

Chapter 9

Vernon Flahey was a neighbor of Robin Boudreaux. The forty year old man had not liked Arnold Prentiss, And Arnold had not liked the perpetually stoned immature frat boy.

The man had won five hundred thousand dollars on a lottery scratch off. He used ten percent of his winnings after taxes to go around to the various convenience stores and gas stations in the St. Elizabeth and St. Ann parish area and buy ten more scratch off tickets at each stop. The gamble paid off; he won two hundred thousand more after taxes and bought a house and a vintage 1974 Lincoln Mark IV. Since then, Vernon eked out a living doing sales on EBay.

This left the man far too much time on his hands, so he often had parties at his three story home, in his twelve person hot tub, in his large lagoon style swimming pool.

Vernon had never invited Arnold Prentiss to his parties, but he had made a point of inviting Arnold's wife, Terri. The young woman never did attend, but Vernon invited her whenever he saw her.

When Robin moved into his father's home, Vernon shoved his bulk into a pair of skimpy swim trunks and waddled down to the house. He welcomed Robin to the neighborhood and invited the young man to his house for a party.

Robin did attend, saw the thirty or forty young, scantily clad bodies cavorting around. One girl who said she was a dancer at Elegante, gave Robin a blow job. A very handsome young man who said he was a dancer at The Hammer also offered Robin a blow job.

"Unless you'd rather shove that big monster up my ass?" the young man said hopefully.

"Uh, no, that's all right," Robin said.

Vernon invited Robin to more parties, but Robin declined. The sexually amoral behavior had been disconcerting enough. The copious amount of drinking and drugging that Robin had observed just did not sit well with him. But it didn't stop Vernon from asking the young, handsome Robin to his house.

Vernon waddled down to the Boudreaux house and knocked on the door. He was having yet another get-together and had invited dancers from The Hammer, Elegante, Mickey's, and Conquistador, a new male strip club in Pinoak.

"Uh huh?" Sage asked, looking at the pudgy man.

Vernon smiled at the short maid Robin had hired.

"Hey, Sweet Cheeks, Robin around?" he simpered.

"Nope; he's at work," Sage said.

"Oh. Well, he comes home, tell him I'm having another party tomorrow, about eight, nine tomorrow night," Vernon said.

He then looked at the tight tee shirt, the short shorts Sage was wearing.

"You come too," Vernon invited.

"That's tomorrow?" Sage asked.

"Uh huh, right down the street, pink house, all right? Bring your own bathing suit," Vernon invited, then turned and waddled away.

Robin acknowledged he'd heard Sage when she mentioned about the fat neighbor's invitation.

"Saturdays? Sage, Saturdays are insane at the dealerships; no can do," he said.

But he did make an effort to get home early that Saturday evening. Ten thirty was early for Robin Boudreaux.

"Sage? Sage?" he called out when he determined she was not in the kitchen, or the bedroom, or the bathroom.

He had a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. Getting out of his suit, Robin dressed in comfortable khakis and pull over shirt and walked down to Vernon Flahey's house.

The music was blaring, so he just walked in.

There was no sign of Sage in the front room, or the kitchen, or the back deck.

In the hot tub, Robin found Sage. She was sitting on the lap of one male dancer while a second male dancer played with her heavy breasts.

"Sage," Robin barked.

"Hey! You made it, let me go, that's my boyfriend," a drunk and stoned Sage giggled, pushing the dancer's hands away from her breasts.

"Hi Baby!" she cried out as she climbed out of the hot tub, her bikini top fluttering loosely.

She tried to kiss Robin but he backed away from her.

"Oh oh, Robin's mad, why you mad Baby?" Sage asked.

Robin helped the suddenly contrite Sage find her purse and her shoes and wrap and they walked home. Robin walked with purpose while the short legged Sage had to hustle to keep up with him.

The entire time, she kept trying to talk.

"I don't want you ever going back there, hear?" Robin exploded the minute they stepped into the privacy of his home.

Sage burst into tears; she had never seen Robin angry before and it frightened her. And in her chemically addled brain, she felt guilt and remorse, even though she didn't know what she felt guilt and remorse for.

They kissed and made up shortly afterward. Then Sage helped herself to more vodka and then felt more guilt and remorse because she drank and Robin didn't like it when she drank. Even though alcohol made her feel quite amorous.

Robin forgave her as she sucked his cock to ejaculation. He forgave her as she showed him the mouthful of sperm, then swallowed it. He forgave her as she straddled his erection and begged him to fuck her hard.

A few weeks after the party, April came over to Robin's house to teach the young woman some more recipes. Already quite drunk, April parked her car half on the driveway, half on Robin's manicured lawn.

Together, April and Sage did a hot water cornbread and a meatball stew. And April drank Robin's whiskey and urged Sage to join her.

Vernon again wedged his bulk into a swimsuit and waddled down to Robin's house.

"Hello?" Sage asked.

"Hey, having another little get-together my place tonight," Vernon said. "About nine, bring your own bathing suit."

"Man, I had me t'ing t'at small, wouldn't be walking around in no swim suit me," April whispered to Sage as the man waddled across Robin's lawn toward his home.

"Well, Robin don't want me going t'ere no," Sage said.

"What? Robin tell you what do?" April asked.

"Well, no, but he don't like t'at man no," Sage said.

But after a few more drinks, Sage decided Robin had no right to tell her who she could and could not be friends with.

April left the house around nine o'clock, having to close one eye to be able to see. Sage got into her string bikini, found her tiger print wrap and walked down to the Flahey house.

When Robin came into the house, he found Sage, again sitting on the lap of the one dancer while the second dancer played with her breasts.

But this time, they weren't in the hot tub. They were on the leather couch in the living room. And the three were nude.

A drunken Sage screamed in orgasm as the dancer's large cock filled her pussy. Robin could see sperm liberally coating Sage's lips and chin as she sucked on the cock of the second dancer.

"Like father, like son, I guess," Robin said sadly and left the house.

Once home, he found the jewelry box, opened it and looked at the small rose gold ring with the two one carat emerald stones flanking the one and a half carat diamond stone.

The rose gold was pink, like her hair, and the emeralds were to match her green eyes.

"Yeah, like father, like son," Robin said again heavily. "But hey, Dad? Least I didn't marry her before I found out what she was like, huh?"

THE END

**Author's Note: I write these stories for my pleasure; I post them here for your enjoyment. I thank you for reading my stories.

Virgil Arcenaux is a character from 'It's Hard To Find A Good Plumber.' Many of you objected to that little weasel being able to fuck up a good relationship with no consequences. Really? I always thought being a friendless weasel with no ambitions or hopes was punishment enough.

Have a super swell day.