My Second Piece of AssChapter 12 Meeting Ollie
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My Second Piece Of AssChapter 26: Jousting With Ollie free porn video
When I made the phone call to let Ollie Pettersen know I was coming I did not know what to expect. My plan was to look for an opening and jab. Ollie's plan, I soon discovered, was to jab and then look for an opening.
There was not an empty parking space on the lot. Had it been planned?
"Key," a man in a brightly colored shirt and loosely tied necktie said as he motioned for me to stop.
"I'm here to see Mr. Pettersen," I offered, unwilling to give up my car keys.
"Everyone's here to see Mr. Pettersen. Give me your keys."
"I'll wait here until it clears out at bit."
"It ain't gonna clear out. Give me your keys. I'll watch your car."
I handed the man my keys and walked toward the showroom, beginning to get nervous. Where would my car be if I needed to get away quickly? Where would my keys be?
The glass at the front of the building had been replaced but the crack at the end was still covered with duct tape. As I entered the door I could hear the unmistakable sound of my engine being raced. The car and its driver were headed for the far end of the lot where a second exit would take them into traffic.
A salesman pounced on me the moment I entered the showroom. I told him I was there to see Mr. Pettersen.
Ollie must have heard my voice. "Randy," he said cheerfully from the door that led into the two offices I had inspected the night of the break in. His was the smaller of the two.
"Can I get you something to drink? Mildred, get this gentleman a coke," he said to the woman behind a counter in the larger office. She looked pleasant in a guarded way.
"Looks like you're busy out there," I said, referring to the lack of parking spaces and the fact that my car had been driven off someplace.
"We're selling everything on the lot today," he spoke confidentially. "There's something about the fall of the year. The new models come out and when people find out the prices they come here, ready to deal."
I thanked Mildred for the coke and Ollie told her to close the door.
He looked menacing behind the desk, all pretence of a congenial meeting having disappeared.
Ollie had had over two hours to prepare, more notice than the Clantons and McLaurys had at the OK Corral. Yet, his barrage of accusations centered on my inappropriate behavior toward his family. According to him, I had damaged his daughter's reputation merely by being seen in her company. He praised the ability and insight that Julita had exhibited in discovering my intentions and devious mind. He said she was glad to be rid of me.
While on the subject of Rosita his back teeth locked together and the blue vein in his forehead puckered. "My neighbor got the wrong impression but I explained that you are a family friend and you were there because of an emergency. We both know better. You're not a family friend and you are not to come near my house again."
He had forgotten or was ignoring my vow to exclude Huley and Rosita from the subject I had come to address. By spewing his despair at having been duped by my behavior, he was deflecting any guilt he may have felt for the despicable act he had committed.
Before I could reiterate why I had come to his office that afternoon Ollie Pettersen launched another salvo. "Wipe that smirk off your face. You have nothing on me."
I looked toward the closed door, yearning to leave him stew in his own self-pity. But his man had my car. Anything I said now would be something already said, repeated from our two telephone conversations. "You're right; I have nothing on you unless you have a conscience."
"Oh, please, don't lay that on me. That slut deserved everything she got."
I had promised myself that I would keep my temper in check. Otherwise I would be stooping to his level. But I let him find my weak spot. He saw that he had me pinned against the ropes. I stooped to his level.
"That would mean that if any of the females close to you, your mother, Clarisa, Rosita..."
"Stop! Don't mention them in that context." He rose to his full height, shoving his chair to the wall behind him in the process. I stood also.
"I was wondering how you would advise them, to give in to the gentleman or take the burn."
"Get out!" He was in my face, ready to pounce. "I'm warning you, the women in my family are off limits to you. Tell your slut sister I'll get the authorities to shut that place down."
He had played his trump card. He had me. Opening the office door he motioned for me to walk ahead of him.
As we approached the counter in the outer office I turned, "Mr. Pettersen, which neighbor told you he saw me coming out your front door at five A.M. on Sunday morning?"
Ollie was turning to return to his office. He stopped in his tracks, glared at me and with as much composure as he could muster, said it was Mr. Spencer. Ollie motioned with his right hand to indicate it was the same neighbor who I had seen trying to quiet the dog.
"Oh, really?" I nodded thoughtfully.
For a second I saw his jaw drop but he recovered quickly and turned to his office.
Mildred had her head down, concentrating on her work as if she had not heard my comment about leaving the Pettersen home at five A.M. on Sunday morning.
"It was nice to meet you Mildred. Now I'll have a face to place with the voice when you answer the phone."
Mildred's smile quickly changed to a stunned look when we heard Ollie say, "Mr. Tucker has no reason to telephone here." He closed his office door.
There was no one in the showroom and I was relieved to see my car parked near the door. The keys were in the ignition. As I drove out of the lot I spotted four empty parking spaces. Had that many cars been sold in the short time I was there?
The drive home was not a fun trip. I was defeated. His threat to have the authorities close the brothel down was the blow that brought me to the mat. His tactics had made me hit below the belt, something I had promised myself I would not do. It was a technical knockout.
Personally, I did not care if the brothel closed. But Laura would care and Mr. Waite would care. If my actions were the reason for the closure of the brothel it would put me in an unfavorable liaison with Mr. Waite. What's more, it would test my relationship with Laura.
Would Laura abandon me? Should I tell her of Ollie's threat? After all, I was doing it for her, something she had asked me to stop. How would she take my disregarding her request and in so doing, place us all, Mr. Waite, Laura and the other employees of the brothel in jeopardy of losing investments and income. In my case it could mean losing Laura.
I spent a lonely stressful night. There were no messages and the phone did not ring. I looked at the package from home and recalled my family's pleas to come home and buckle down. I recalled Laura's request for me to wait until she was with me to open my birthday gifts.
I considered calling Mr. Waite and telling all. How would he take my indiscretion? Would he come to my defense or would he turn on me and say my youth and inexperience had bothered him from the beginning? Would he reconsider giving me the contracts? What would I tell the guys? They depended upon me to secure enough work to keep them busy.
A bad dream woke me. It was 2:37 A.M. and I was wide-awake, the dream vivid in my mind. A giant with Ollie Pettersen's face had little Brenda Sue under one arm and Rachel in the other. Ralph was no match for the giant. With a twirl of its right arm Rachel went flying and the free hand reached for the third rung of a ladder. Jimmy was making an effort to stabilize the ladder but with one jerk Davie went toppling to the ground. Mr. Waite was on the giant's back and Laura was screaming, "Not my ass, not my ass!" Ollie was laughing, a cigarette between his lips, when I woke.
I busied myself with math, science, history, English and back to math, none of them capturing my full attention. I was lost in the company books when my alarm clock rang at six A.M. I worked at my desk for another 45 minutes before starting the water for my shower. I had an eight o'clock class. I would be early.
Filled with self-doubt, I drifted from one morning class to the next between daydream and half slumber. Was I in the dream? Was that me off to the side, laughing... and lighting a cigarette? Was that Aunt Clarisa's bare ass in front of me? And her smile beckoning to what, screw her, burn her? The end of class bell shook me to attention.
Katherine Simmons would not let me pay for her lunch. We sat at a table for two, her with a sandwich and me with the Friday special, fish and chips. She looked around us as if she was looking for eavesdroppers before she took a bite of her sandwich.
"I read the papers from that assignment for Sheila last year. If you mind your grammar and turn in a clean paper you will be assured a C. Anything kinky, like what you are suggesting, will earn you a D, if that. Sheila is straight laced and has her own set of standards." Katherine Simmons paused, watching me for several seconds before taking another bite of her sandwich.
"Before I got the idea for the morality angle I was honing in on the use of lead in eating utensils," I offered.
"Don't do that!" Katherine's alarm caused the table to shake. "It's her favorite. If she sees us together or if she gets a report that I was talking to you she'll know I told you that."
"Is she really that paranoid?" I asked, not knowing if I had used the right word. According to Katherine's description, Mrs. Davenport was beginning to sound weird to me.
But she hadn't heard me. Katherine's eyes were upon Huley who was closing in on us.
"This didn't take long," Huley began with a captious chime in her voice. She was glaring at Katherine, ignoring me. "You latched on to him three seconds after I dumped him. You're welcome to him. Take it from me, he's no catch!"
Huley was gone, having turned and stomped back in the direction she had come from.
Katherine laughed and I laughed with her. To her credit she made no comment. I noticed she had finished half of her sandwich. I had not touched my fish.
"She knows what she wants," Katherine answered my question about Sheila Henderson Davenport being paranoid, continuing where we had left the conversation before Huley's interruption. I admired her effortless ability to maintain concentration. Huley's appearance had left my mind blank.
"I'm glad you're telling me this," I said. She was saving me from making a blunder that would have devastated my grade point average.
She was rising to her feet, lifting her food tray with the remaining half sandwich. "Call me over the weekend. My dad, Cecil is in the book." She walked away, leaving me alone at the table, my fish getting cold.
I didn't turn to look but I was sure that Huley had witnessed what had just taken place. Huley, I suspected, was taking solace with what she perceived to be her doing, making Katherine flee.
On Saturday, I threw myself into my work. Charles and I compiled the dismantling schedule for the large antique house. I wondered if he detected that something was on my mind. By noontime, we had a list of tasks that each of us would be responsible for. He went back to work on the picket fence and I left to make my rounds at the houses the crew was working on, the paint store and to call upon prospective customers.
I wondered if I would catch Katherine Simmons at home on Saturday night. She had said to call her during the weekend. She had not specified a time.
"Sheila has her spies. If it gets back to her that I was talking to you she'll hold it against you," she said, explaining the reason for her abrupt departure the day before.
"I was concerned that Huley unnerved you."
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