Mrs. Jacobs pt2

As Eddie and Damien we’re removing some of the less ‘savory’ furniture, someone knocked on the door.

After a quick look at Eddie, who shrugged, Damien made his way to the door and looked out through the keyhole. It was Mitch, one of his new employees and a very nervous looking Mrs. Jacobs.

Damien opened the door.

“What is it Mitch?”

“Hey there boss man! This customer said she wanted to talk to you. Asked for you by name.”

“So why didn’t you call?” Damien issues a warning in his voice. “You have my number.”

“She said she knew you.”

“You didn’t know that for a fact though.”

He finally had the grace to look sheepish.

“Oh umm. My bad boss man! Won’t happen again! So uhh.. can I go?”

“Not yet. Come inside Mitch... and Mrs. Jacobs.”

Once inside, Damien closed the door and turned to swing a right hook at Mitch knocking him to the floor.

“You will not forget to follow protocol next time. Agreed?”

“Yees srr,” he slurred. He stayed down for a minute.

Turning back to look at his art teacher, he asked, “what can I do for you?”

His teacher was visibly upset and her body was shaking, unaccustomed to the sudden and intense ****.

“I...I just wanted to see if you were telling the truth. I see that you are...I’ll go now.”

“Wait.” Damien walked to her.

“If you come to my house, You buy something. You’ve wasted my time and by extension, you’ve cost me money. So what do you want to buy?”

“I...umm... ok... the usual? I could use about a gram?”

“That’ll be $80.”

“Sure! I mean I don’t have any money with me, so I’ll buy it next time.”

Damien folded his arms.

“No. Next time is next time. This time it’ll be $80.”

“But I don’t have any money right now. I can go to the bank.”

She started edging towards the door.

Damien grabbed her hand and pulled her further inside the house and away from the door.

“I don’t think you’re getting it. It’s $80 for the gram. Or the equivalent of $50 for wasting my time.”

“Equivalent of $50?”

“Sure. Since no product changes hands, an equivalency is doable. My time isn’t quite as valuable as the pearl of course, so $50 equivalency is fine.”

Realization dawned in her eyes. She looked like she wanted to be anywhere but here. A doe facing oncoming traffic at night.

“What would be the equivalency of $50?”

Damien looked at Eddie. “What’re the local whore costs nowadays?”

Eddie stoically answered. “$25 for a blow, $40 for a fuck, $50 for a fuck and cream pie, $75 for anal, and $100 for anal and cream pie. Double pricing for 2 guys, group cost of 600 for up to 10 men, and all night gangbangs are $1000. No holes barred.”

“Too much information man. I only needed the $50 costs.”

Damien turned back to Mrs. Jacobs who was beginning to cry.

“There you have it, $50 equivalency is a fuck and a cream pie. Unless of course you want to waste more time, and I could always fuck your ass instead. Wouldn’t want you to get pregnant.”

Mrs. Jacobs was trembling

As she stood watching Damien for the slightest showing of compassion or humanity.

There was none.

Defeated, she spoke, “Ok. I’ll pay the $50 equivalency.”

“With a fuck and a cream pie?”

“Yes,” She whispered.

“Say it.”

“I’ll pay by letting you have sex with me and cum in me.”

“Ok then.” Damien grabbed her shirt and pulled it over her head. Her hands went instantly to cover her breasts, 32-Cs if he had to guess.

Damien unzipped her pants and turned her around pulling them down and off. He then pulled her underwear down, revealing a well kept but obviously grown out bush.

Reaching around, Damien slid his fingers over the pussy, Stroking her nether lips and slipping a finger inside. Despite herself, she was wet.

Damien unzipped himself and pulled his hard and fully erect cock out of his pants. Mrs. Jacobs gee visibly frightened at the size of it.

“We can’t do this! My husband will notice when we have sex that it’s looser down there!”

“Well I could always fuck your ass.” Up to you Mrs. Jacobs.”

The fear of that monster going up her ass put new terror in her eyes.

“N...no... just please be gentle.”

“Not likely Mrs. Jacobs. This is a business transaction, and I need to teach you not to waste my time. (He also needed her to be afraid of him so that any idea that may cross her mind to find a new dealer is squashed.) He continued, “this will be for my entertainment, not yours. Though admittedly, you may grow to enjoy it.”

With that he turned her around so that she was facing away and pushed her forward Until she fell onto the Hobo Orgy couch, her face smashing into the cum, piss, and possible fecal infested cushions.

Stepping behind her, Damien spat liberally onto his dick and lines it up. With one thrust he was in his art teacher.”