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  • Mr. Worthington's Writer's Block Ch. 02

Mr. Worthington's Writer's Block Ch. 02

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*Author's Note: Any and all persons engaging in any sexual activity are at least eighteen years of age.

**This story has not been edited. It has been run through Spell Check. If reading a story that has not been edited bothers you, please hit the 'Back Space' key on your keyboard.

***

You don't start off at nineteen an hour, Ryan; you work your way up to nineteen an hour," Vanessa Charles snapped at her husband.

Brianna Charles closed the door to her room, shutting out the same old argument she'd heard over and over for the last two years.

They were finally out of Uncle Glen's house, thank God. The man made Brianna's skin crawl. He was fat, morbidly obese actually, with greased hair, a pencil line mustache and piggish eyes. He smoked, so there was always a stench of tobacco around him, stale menthol tobacco.

And Uncle Glen had grabby hands. He would demand hugs and his hugs were gropes of Brianna's breasts, gropes of her ass, and gropes of her crotch. Uncle Glen also did it to Vanessa, his own sister.

Brianna had just turned nineteen when they'd lost their home in Kimble, Louisiana, her brothers Michael and Matthew had just turned sixteen.

Having to make the decision what to take was heartbreaking; there was only so much room in the Buick.

When Brianna's best friend Natalie was twelve years old, Natalie's grandmother had shown her how to do needle point. Natalie did a horrible job of embroidering a pillow with hearts and the message 'I LOVE YOU' and had given the pillow to Brianna. And that had been the one thing Brianna decided she could not leave behind.

Brianna had known she was gay from an early age. She and Natalie Broussard would sit and gossip, giggle about this boy or that boy. But Brianna did not really like this boy or that boy. She really liked, loved Natalie, with her short, plump body and long strawberry blonde hair and angelic face and big blue eyes.

Brianna and Natalie would steal Ryan Charles' naughty magazines and bring them into Brianna's bedroom. Then they'd giggle over the naughty things the guys and girls were doing in the magazines. When they'd come to pictures that would show two girls doing naughty things with each other, Brianna would quickly flip past those. She was so afraid if she paused long enough, she'd reveal her secret to Natalie. And then Natalie wouldn't be her friend anymore.

Then when Brianna's dad lost his job with PC Nation, when they started receiving the threatening letters and phone calls from collection agencies, when their mother let them know they had lost the home, Brianna finally revealed to Natalie that she was gay, that she was in love with Natalie.

Natalie had felt the same way, had felt the same way for years. She was in love with Brianna.

The nineteen year old Brianna and eighteen year old Natalie hugged, kissed, and pleasured each other nearly every opportunity they had. Until they packed the last box into the car, barely leaving room for Brianna or Michael or Matthew.

"I love you too," Brianna said as she now looked at the pillow on the bed in her new room in the trailer.

Matthew had been the first one to find a job. He worked at a local Taco Bell. Michael took a job at a Popeye's Restaurant. Then Vanessa found a job at a Target retail store.

"Gee, why y'all couldn't do this when we were losing our house?" Ryan tried to joke, but it came out as a bitter complaint.

Then Brianna, all five foot two and one hundred and nine pounds of her, found a job at a local warehouse, making twelve dollars an hour. But her father had still been unable to find a job. Every penny Brianna and the twins and her Mom made went to paying Uncle Glen for rent and food, as well as paying back the credit cards they'd maxed out.

And still Ryan Charles had been unable to find a job. Even after his unemployment benefits ran out, he was still unable to find a job.

Natalie had sent the Charles' family the announcement that she was marrying some man, had sent them an invitation to the wedding, and had even asked Brianna if she'd be a bridesmaid. But they didn't go; they couldn't afford it. They couldn't even afford the ninety four dollars for Brianna to take the Greyhound from Jackson, Mississippi to DeGarde, Louisiana.

Finally, the Charles' family actually started to get ahead of their mountain of bills and started saving. And Brianna and Matthew and Michael were allowed to keep fifty percent of what they brought home, Brianna bought a car. A twelve year old Kia, but it was a car, it was her car.

Then one of Vanessa's co-workers had an aunt that passed away. The aunt had a trailer, and the co-worker, the last living relative did not want the trailer, already having a home. She offered to sell it to Vanessa. And still, Ryan had not been able to find a job.

Brianna hated her job; she was the only white woman there. Other than the owner/manager, she was the only white person there. She'd been hired on as customer service, as well as inventory control. If a truck came in and said they had two hundred boxes of spark plugs, it was up to Brianna to verify that there were two hundred boxes of spark plugs. If a truck backed up with an order for three dozen air filters, Brianna made sure that they got three dozen air filters. Not three dozen and one air filters.

. It was hot, sweaty, dusty work in the summer and it was cold, sweaty dusty work in the winter.

Because Brianna was attractive, with long brown hair, big brown eyes and sweet round face, Brianna was approached every day by truckers, by the men that worked on the floor, by the clients that came in to the office. Because Brianna also sported Double D breasts, these approaches were quite often very crude.

Zebadiah, however, was simply unwilling to accept Brianna's polite refusal. The coworker would corner the girl whenever he could, thrust his crotch against her, grab for her large breasts, and accuse her of being racist.

"You just don't want no date with me 'cause I'm black, that's it, huh? Ain't it?" he sullenly accused, poking a finger into her face.

"No, I don't want a date with you because you're ugly," she snapped back, close to tears.

"Zebadiah, what'd I tell you about that shit?" Ollie Smith, the owner/manager called out.

"Mr. Smith, I quit, you hear?" Brianna snapped. "I have had enough of this shit."

"Zebadiah, grab your shit; you're out of here," Ollie said.

Ollie did not want another sexual harassment suit on his hands; the last one had nearly bankrupted him.

So it had been an uncomfortable day at work, with the other employees glaring at her for getting their buddy fired. Then after work, Zebadiah had attempted to follow her. She managed to get away from the angry man by pulling into a grocery store parking lot, then pulling back out and circling the block.

Now, safely at home, Brianna looked at the needlepoint pillow on her bed.

"I love you," Brianna said again to her pillow before stripping out of her sweaty clothes and grabbing her tattered terry cloth robe from her closet.

"Honey, didn't that Natalie girl marry some Oscar Worthington?" Vanessa called out as Brianna left her bedroom, shower bag in hand.

"Oscar, yeah, Oscar Worthington; why?" Brianna asked before sliding the door of the small bathroom open.

"I was reading the DeGarde Weekly on line earlier and it said that an Oscar Worthington of Kimble died, brain aneurism, but it can't be the one Natalie married," Vanessa answered.

"What? Why not?" Brianna asked, feeling that lump in the pit of her stomach at the mention of Natalie.

"Says he was fifty two years old and Natalie's what? I mean, y'all are the same age, right?" Vanessa said.

"And don't be taking no two hour shower in there, huh?" Ryan demanded.

"Do you mind? I'm talking to her," Vanessa snapped.

Brianna slid the door shut, shutting out their latest argument.

"I mean, it does say he was survived by a wife, a son that lived in New York and a daughter that lived in Lowridge, Texas," Vanessa continued. "Maybe it's the son; did Natalie move to New York after she got married?"

Seeing that Brianna had gone into the bathroom, Vanessa switched to her favorite past-time, reading out loud the on-line listing of jobs that were available in Jackson, Mississippi.

Ryan fell back on his favorite past-time, denouncing each job as unsuitable for him.

While Brianna was sluicing off that day's sweat and grime, while Mr. and Mrs. Charles were arguing about employment in Mississippi, Natalie Worthington numbly walked through her Kimble, Louisiana home.

It had been the Charles home; Oscar Worthington had purchased it from the bank that had foreclosed on it.

Oscar had hired Natalie to work as a domestic servant; it was either work for him or go to jail. In the year that they worked together, he fell in lust with her, craving her sweet pudgy bottom. She quite willingly gave him access to her rear.

Then she fell in love with him and he fell in love with her.

They'd made slow, gentle love, Natalie on her hands and knees, Oscar's thick cock sliding in and out of her greased rectum. He had rubbed her swollen belly and her breasts, and just as he came, he pinched her clitoris, and Natalie had screamed in orgasm.

Then she'd showered away their juices, chattering happily to Oscar through the open bathroom door.

He laid there, a beatific smile on his face. But Natalie knew Oscar had left her.

An aneurism. The Medical examiner, a young woman had assured her that Oscar Worthington had suffered absolutely no pain at all.

"You two just finished making love?" she gently asked Natalie. "He didn't suffer; he went with a smile on his face."

Natalie slipped out of the black maternity dress, unhooked the black lace bra, the one Oscar had picked out for her, and then kicked her black pumps into the closet. She slid the smoke colored pantyhose down and off; the garment had just about drove her out of her mind, bunched up under her pregnant belly, throughout the simple service, but Oscar had loved her in pantyhose.

"Loved getting me out of them," she giggled out loud, and then burst into wailing sobs.

Now she was truly alone. Her parents had perished from carbon monoxide buildup in their trailer. She and Oscar had gone over for Sunday lunch after attending their non-denominational church, announced that they were expecting, and two days later they got the terrible news.

Natalie's best friend, her first lover, Brianna Charles had moved to Jackson, Mississippi.

Brianna and Natalie had played in this very house, played dolls, colored in coloring books together, dreamed of fairy tale weddings.

Then when they got older, they'd stolen Mr. Charles' dirty magazines and looked at pictures of naked people and giggled. When they'd get to the pictures of two or three girls doing things with each other, Brianna would always flash past those pictures. This kind of bothered Natalie; she wanted to see. But if she admitted to Brianna that she wanted to see what two or three girls did with each other, then Brianna would have called Natalie names.

Then, just before they moved to Jackson, Mississippi to move in with her mom's brother, Brianna had confessed that she loved Natalie and the two had become lovers.

Brianna had given Natalie the address for her uncle, Glen Patterson. She'd sent her wedding announcement and invitation to that address. She'd received a lovely card from the Charles' family.

But Brianna's birthday card Natalie sent to Glen's address had come back. Someone had scrawled on it 'no forwarding address.'

Natalie's friend, Latasha Weems, had done a few months on a misdemeanor charge of destruction of private property. Upon her release from Kimble Lock Up, Latasha and Miranda Rodriguez, a girl Latasha had met in Kimble Lock-up tried to rob A&A Soaps, a local business. Fortunately for Toni Delacroix, the owner of A&A Soaps, and unfortunately for Latasha and Miranda, two of the employees of A&A Soaps were US Armed Services Reserve Officers. The brick Miranda was brandishing as a weapon and the length of pipe Latasha was brandishing were kicked out of their hands and their legs were swept out from under them. Both girls were now doing six to eight years in Mumphrey's Correctional Facilities for women in Mumphrey, Louisiana.

So, Oscar had been the only person Natalie had left in this world.

On their wedding night, Oscar had broken through Natalie's hymen. The first time had been very painful, but the second time had been wonderful and Natalie grew to love vaginal sex.

When Natalie became pregnant, she still enjoyed loved vaginal sex. But she had craved, needed anal sex. Needed it often.

And then Oscar was gone.

Oscar's son, Robert and Robert's wife Nicole did not come down from New York to attend Oscar Samuel Worthington's memorial service or funeral. Nor did they offer any explanation.

Deborah and Dan Cornell, Oscar's daughter and son in law had come in, had been very polite to Natalie, but had also been quite reserved.

Jackie Bancroft and Phyllis Simpson, Oscar's agent and Oscar's editor, had been unable to attend the service for Oscar. They'd sent lovely floral arrangements, but Natalie would have much preferred to have them there, in person. She would have loved to hear how they'd met her husband, how they'd worked with her husband.

Nude, seven month pregnant belly protruding, Natalie lay on Oscar's side of the bed, put her head on his pillow and smelled his scent.

"Baby, what are we going to do?" Natalie asked her belly, rubbing it softly. "Daddy's gone to Heaven to see God and all the angels; what are we going to do?"

A week later, Parker Johnson, Oscar's attorney, had contacted Natalie to let her know that there would be a reading of Oscar Samuel Worthington's will.

"Guess your parents' going kind of woke him up that he needed to make out a will," Parker mused out loud into the telephone.

Robert and Nicole, Oscar's son and daughter in law, who couldn't be bothered to attend the memorial and funeral services of Oscar, somehow managed to scrape together enough desire and enough money to come for the reading of the will.

Deborah and Dan also drove back in. This time they were a little more receptive of Natalie.

Robert and Nicole barely acknowledged Deborah, did not acknowledge Natalie, Dan, or Parker.

Natalie heard the will read, understood that Robert and Nicole would get nothing, as they'd borrowed nearly three quarters of a million dollars from Oscar while he was still alive. She understood that in a sense of fairness, Oscar had given Deborah the same dollar amount that Robert had borrowed and never repaid to him.

But everything else, the investments, the book royalties, the Hallmark Channel syndications (two of his books had been made into movies) was hers. Their home was hers. His Mercedes-Benz was hers. The beautiful garden in the back yard was hers.

But Natalie was still truly alone.

She smiled; the baby had just kicked, as if to say "Hey, Mom, you still got me."

A thought came to her and Natalie got to her feet and waddled into Oscar's office.

The computer monitor sprang to life when she accidentally nudged the mouse and Natalie remembered; Oscar had been working when she'd called out that she was in dire need of an ass fuck. He'd come in, seen that she'd already greased up her anus for him and had obliged her need.

She knew to hit Alt and S on the keyboard and then started reading what he'd written.

'To Where the Sun Sets' was set in an unnamed stretch of Texas during the late 1880s and involved the daughter of one cattle baron and the son of another cattle baron. The two were to be married and the two families would join land and cattle. But the son of the widowed cattle baron was a shiftless ne'er-do-well that had eyes for a town prostitute and cared little for his betrothed.

Slowly, over time, though, the widowed father found himself falling for the sweet, naive girl.

Oscar had just reached the end of a chapter, the evening before the wedding, when he'd actually typed in, "My beautiful wife needs a little of the old sodomy, so be right back."

Natalie giggled as she read her husband's last note and glanced at the ceiling.

"I love you, you silly man," she smiled.

Then she exited out of the word document and went on-line.

Natalie again smiled. Under his 'Favorites' Oscar had saved several sites about pregnancy and parenting. Then she smirked; he'd also saved a link to someplace called 'Pregnant Fuck Sluts.'

She located his local directory, typed in the criteria, then waddled, still nude, to the bedroom again. She found her cell phone and went back to the office. She tapped out the phone number and made an appointment for Mr. Reynolds to come to her home the following day, then clicked on 'Pregnant Fuck Sluts.'

A few movies of pregnant women being fucked by multiple partners made Natalie shrug her shoulders. 'To Where the Sun Sets' had actually turned her on more than watching an either pregnant or just chubby Asian girl getting pounded by three large cocks.

Four days later, In Jackson, Mississippi, Brianna Charles was angrily counting a shipment of car batteries. Three of the pallets would be going to several auto parts chain locations and another pallet would be going to a local repair shop.

Ollie smith had shrugged his shoulders and told Brianna that he'd fired Zebadiah Montrose. Beyond that, he had no responsibilities to her as an employee.

Last night, Zebadiah had actually cut Brianna off as she pulled out of the parking lot. Brianna waited until Zebadiah got out of his rusted Mercury and approached her car, and then she floored the accelerator, aiming right for him. Zebadiah had narrowly avoided being run over by jumping onto the hood of his own car. But Brianna knew it wasn't over.

Brianna verified that they'd not been shorted on this shipment and nodded to Curby that he could load the first pallet. She had to jump back; he almost clipped her with his forklift.

Curby and Zebadiah were close friends; it had been Curby that had gotten Zebadiah on at the warehouse.

"Hey, Brianna, come here, huh?" Ollie called out.

Brianna also had to watch for Bear as he loaded the boxes of motor oil onto a truck; he veered wide and she narrowly avoided him by stepping behind shelving section.

"Hey, got some guy here see you," Ollie said.

"God damn, Ollie, you didn't fucking see that?" Brianna screamed at him. "Both Curby and Bear almost fucking hit me!"

"Got to be careful out there on the floor; told you that first day you started here," Ollie shrugged.

An obese man, almost as large as her Uncle Glen sat in Ollie's office, sweating despite the window air conditioning unit blowing cold air directly on him.

"You Brianna Charles?" he asked, mopping his face with a wet handkerchief.

"Yeah, who you?" Brianna asked and ground her teeth as the man's eyes did not go above her breasts.

"Looking for Brianna Dawn Charles, born October first, nineteen ninety four," the man said. "God damn, it always so hot?"

"Should see this place in July," Brianna agreed. "Some of them pass out gets so hot in here."

He clicked a picture with his cell phone, tapped out a number, and then hit 'Send.'

"Um, so who are you?" Brianna asked.

"Reynold Reynolds; I'm a private Investigator," the man said then smiled when his phone chimed.

"Yes ma'am? It is? You're welcome; it's what you paid for, hang on," the man said then held the phone out to Brianna. "Someone wants to say 'hi' to you."

"Hello?" Brianna said, grimacing; she was sure she could feel the man's sweat on the cell phone.

"Hi, oh my God, hi, it's me, it's Natalie," a laughing crying voice said.

"Hey, Ollie!" Brianna screamed as she stepped out of the office. "Fuck you, I quit, chicken shit mother fucker."

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