Chapter One Hundred-Three

What’s the difference between you and a mosquito? A Mosquito will stop sucking after you slap it.

After a proper begging, involving three “pretty pleases with a cherry on top” and each of us kissing Griff AND his brother – we finally got our bathing suits back. We also had to promise to wash the redneck family’s muddy pickup truck, but on the plus side we had several hundred dollars of their money!

Nothing makes you appreciate having even a bathing suit that you are popping out of like being completely stark naked in front of people.

“Good lord, is it always like that?” Mom tried commiserating with me while we got dressed afterwards.

“Oh no, it gets way worse,” I chuckled back and mom stopped grinning when she realized I was serious. I let the issue drop and we walked out to the sidewalk to wash the family’s pickup truck and look for our next grift.

“The problem with doing grifts like that one is that now you set the bar so high – everyone will be expecting something to top it,” I heard O.J. tell my brother as he walked over to get Savannah and Crystal for their turn as the focus of his next little scam.

“You ladies did good,” Odd-Jobs popped my mom on the butt and asked skeptically about one part of the grift, “He stopped you from popping pills?”

“I was trying to think on my feet and I remembered a Lifetime Movie about a pill popping stage mother,” my mom shrugged off the criticism of one of the details from the grift, without looking offended he had swatted her ass.

“Think less Oprah and more Blake Shelton,” O.J. offered the advice reminding her that it’s “always Sir out here – always!”

“Yes sir!” my mom answered dutifully and Odd-Jobs chased after Savannah and Crystal to line them up for his next grift. Odd-Jobs didn’t usually run grifts – but he decided to try his hand at a few big ones in the pool area and my Aunt and cousin groaned that it was their turn to be the center of attention. “I have a great idea for you two – wrestling!”

“Who the hell is Blake Shelton?” my mom asked sincerely of me after he left as she picked up a soapy sponge to begin washing the blue Ford’s oversized tires.

“A country music singer I think – you will pick it up, I am surprised you handled it so well, Mom,” I still felt awkward around my mom and the pain from the tennis balls pounding my body. The intense humiliation only made me physically aware of my discomfort. I kept popping out of my suit – and having to adjust it because of frequent nipple slips, but she ignored it and didn’t say a word.

“I can genuinely say the same thing about you!” she observed and asked, “Why is it we have to call them Sir even when no one is listening? Is that just to feed their vanity?” mom asked while she washed down the truck.

“They want us to get into the mindset – not break character, so we have to show respect for our so-called betters all of the time,” I felt a little strange explaining it to my mother so plainly.

“Bullshit,” mom sounded skeptical. “If that’s the case then why have us pretend to be out of control, shallow rich-bitches who speak rudely? It doesn’t make sense – how can we be both?” she knotted her brow.

A man drove by honking his horn and cheering us. My mom flipped him off as he went by. “See? I can flip him off but I have to call him sir? That makes no sense?”

“That is part of the grift,” I realized it did kind of seem like a dichotomy. “We are these shallow, out of control characters – but we’ve been caught in our lies and mistakes and now we have to follow their rules – but we can’t follow them too well. We have to goad them into wanting to spank us or teach us a lesson, but be willing to accept that lesson,” I felt like I was explaining just the way my Aunt and cousin had, when they started these games in front of the trailer on Glory Hill a week ago.

My mom felt her face and then rubbed her boob, “Those tennis balls really hurt – you have been putting up with this all week?” she looked concerned at me.

“Trust me – that was the first time anyone ever chucked wet tennis balls at my head – and Conner will have some payback coming his way when this is all over!” I was half-joking but I saw my mom took it the wrong way.

“You can’t do that!” she insisted, “Conner is just trying his best here in an impossible situation. I’ve never known my son to be that forward or cruel – but I am positive that is an act – right?” she looked perplexed.

“Definitely!” I assured her, then wondered how much of it was the real Conner, before adding, “I wouldn’t really hold it against him – what happens at the Semen Hole – stays at the Semen Hole!”

“Semen hole?” my mom scrunched up her face in disgust.

“That’s the locals’ term for the Seminole Community Center,” I grinned.

“These people!” my mom shook her head in disbelief, “Downtown there is a shopping center with a Shoe Warehouse, but someone altered the letters and now it says, “Ho Whorehouse – it’s been like that every day we drove past,” she laughed at the absurdity.

“I don’t think that would have flown at the Loop, huh?” I mentioned the posh outdoor shopping center in our home town and mom chuckled in agreement.

We were able to talk like that between grifts and Odd-Jobs liked to remind us, “Just 47 more exactly like that one and you can call it a day – you can join us down at Outback Steakhouse tonight!”

My mom didn’t see what the big whoop was about a chain restaurant, but she wasn’t aware that here in the Buckman that was considered THE elite steak house for very special occasions.

We did four grifts over and over for the rest of the morning. I will give you one example of each because they were all pretty much variations of the same thing. We had to vary them up so that pool goers didn’t catch on we were running the same grift – but we repeated what worked and evolved what didn’t so that we almost always made money!

They kept us paired up for the most part and each grift took about 20 minutes to execute – not counting the follow up sex if there was any.

Oopsie (punish the bitch)

Hey, Aren’t you Baby Doll

Who is Hotter?

You have to ask my son!

“Oopsie” follows a rather simple premise that our trick is going to pay for the privilege of getting justice. We flag in someone with a bit of sweet titty cheesecake; smiles, giggles, flashing a little skin and a lot of hooting and hollering. It felt like being at a pep rally for the football team as we flagged guys over.

We would offer to wash their car for next to nothing and in the process promptly break their antenna or scratch the paint – something fairly minor.

At this point, we would beg forgiveness BUT we had to make sure not to beg too much. We had to seem like we knew we were supposed to be sorry – but not really be sorry. Careless, stupid, shallow, forgetful – and only apologizing because we were being watched over by the men. One of whom would show up right about this point as if he were just passing by and checking on us.

It was usually my brother and he would ask what happened here. If the man was nice enough to forgive and forget – my brother would say that really wasn’t good enough. If the man was pissed – that worked in my brother’s favor because he would seek justice for the man.

My brother established himself as clearly on our trick’s side. He would say how he had enough of our carelessness and we were costing him more money than we were making.

“What’s the difference between you and a mosquito? A Mosquito will stop sucking after you slap it!” he had a handful of cruel jokes at our expense. The good part was we were allowed to sass right back but unfortunately we always had to let him get the last word in during these exchanges. It still felt good to fire off some zingers about how mosquitos are the only thing that would suck him for free!

It would be very easy for the trick to feel sorry for us. Accidents do happen and some of them were so laid back that even with what we had done – they would be willing to overlook it, “Hell, my cousin owns a body shop – he’ll fix it for free, no harm done,” but we didn’t want the problem to be solved so easily!

That is when we’d throw a temper tantrum and blame him for all our problems with money - while making sure it sounded like we are just being defensive.

“What are you going to do? Spank our asses? I’d pull my pants down right here and let you if you had the balls – but you don’t!” was the magic phrase and the turning point in the grift.

“I don’t have the balls to do it – no, you are right there,” Conner would talk to us like petulant children and ask the nice trick if he had time to teach us a lesson and would he be kind enough to do it.

Naturally, the smile would tell us he would be happy to keep the two women folk in line.

The challenge here was how to get him to pay for the privilege – after all, this was because we damaged his car and shouldn’t we be paying him to fix it?

We had more than a few ways of begging a contribution in return for turning our ass over to the trick for punishment, but the one that always seemed to work involved one of us saying, “I’ll bet this guy could give me 20 swats and still not make me tear up!”

My brother would take the bet on his behalf and then ask for the stakes. “The cost of the damage to his car!” we would say naturally.

Conner pointed out we spent all the money we had on getting our nails done, fancy clothes, and all the while let the bills go – so that’s why we are down there washing cars in the first place. Conner would plant the seed or just come right out with the counter-offer, “If you lose the bet – then you suck his dick!”

We would refuse right off and that would offend the man – “You ‘d suck every other guy’s cock – his cock’s not good enough?” Conner would challenge us. At this point, the trick would be convinced this was all his idea and that Conner was just negotiating.

“Fine – he can do it to both of you! Whichever one loses sucks his cock and if both of you cry, then you both do it!”

We’d act like we’d just got roped into this and didn’t really want to take the bet, but Conner would say it was that or get the money right now for the repairs. The man wouldn’t even be told that if he lost he would be expected to put up the cost of the repair – he’d be told afterwards, “Well – it was a bet, did you expect not to risk anything?”

I was lucky because I could take my bottoms down but mom had to completely remove her one piece and bend over to hold her ankles. We would count out each swat right there at the pool in front of everybody and have to keep from crying out. There were many times I wanted to and my ass felt like it was on fire. I would be begging them to spank me anywhere else and acting like it was teaching me an important lesson.

In the end, we would win the bet but Conner would still let him choose one of us to suck his cock. They always picked me and mom would make a big stink about how jealous she was. I would take him in his truck or in the men’s bathroom and spit the cum into my Aunt Crystal’s mouth at the very end.

After the first couple of those my mom asked me if this was all my Aunt’s idea.

“Yes,” in retrospect it had been. I explained how this all started and how Aunt Crystal did this to catch up on bills.

“This is all my fault,” my mom explained that when they were teenagers she liked this boy and he asked her on a date. “I brought your Aunt along with us and the two of us ate for free and ditched him afterwards. We giggled so hard – that it was fun to get into mischief. I didn’t really think it was that big of a deal but later she begged me to do it to another boy so I picked one who was kind of nerdy and we dined and dashed on him too.”

“That was mean!” I teased with a giggle – Savannah had done the very same thing to a boy the night we went to Rowdy’s and invited the entire family to eat on his dime.

“Well, I ended up marrying him – so I guess he got his payback,” mom laughed.

I wanted to ask about Dad but every time it came up – mom either changed the subject and said she would tell me later or a customer showed up and wanted attention right then.

“Hey aren’t you Baby Doll?” wasn’t so much a grift as it was something that kept happening outside of our control. Even though Mom was pretending to be a stuck-up socialite from the Cherry Lawn Estates – she was known by a lot of locals as a stripper named “Baby Doll”. This grift wasn’t planned - it was just something that sort of happened and we rolled with it every time.

A trick would come up and ask if she was Baby Doll and Mom would act embarrassed and say, “I didn’t want my daughter to know!” she would break the news to me that since her financial irresponsibility she decided to become a stripper and act like it would freak me out.

I would pause and then crack a smile, “Mom, you are the coolest! I wanna be a stripper too! That sounds like fun,” and I would dance around and encourage her to do it as well.

Mom would spin around awkwardly and bend slightly at the knees and I would tease her that she wasn’t much of a stripper.

“You don’t really make your money on the stage,” mom would inform me that there was a champagne room where the real money is made.

“Cool! I love champagne! I’ve not had a proper bottle since Tiffany’s cotillion – you remember the one where Buffy and her were caught eating each other out in the coat room?” I would totally make up a story.

“They don’t sell champagne,” mom would inform me like I was a child and look at the trick. “I can probably sneak away - if you want a private dance? I can do three songs for the price of one and no house fee!”

“THREE for one?” he would say and off they would go to the men’s bathroom. Mom came back with her hair out of place and looking a little rough and wobbly but quickly straighten herself and after kissing the man goodbye – hand the money over to one of the trainers to hold for us.

The Wrestler was one of her ‘regular’ customers and he was completely enamored with my mom. He was already drunk before 11 am. He wore a muscle shirt and sweat pants that barely hid his boner.

He held up a small wad of cash – how he got the money I had no idea. “Do that trick you do with your boobs, Baby Doll!” he begged.

“I can’t sir - not here!” she would look around at the people walking to the pool and back at him; but the Wrestler had been here every day since we started and knew we could get away with just about anything here.

“Destiny!” he declared slapping a twenty down, “Don’t ask nobody – just DO something – you ready? Show me!”

Mom looked around to see who was watching and before he could draw more attention to us slipped her bathing suit completely off. She couldn’t slide it down and there was no other way to flash in the one piece.

She started with her left tit –and then her right, moving them independently. At first, I thought she was just jiggling them, but she was making them move clockwise and then reversed them.

Another twenty, “I love you –SINNCERELY!” and the Wrestler implored her to show him more.

“People are watching, Sir!” mom implored, but despite the fact she had picked up a small audience of looky-loos she’d turn around and just at that moment begin to move one butt cheek and then the other, independently. She stood on her toes so that her calf muscles tightened and literally winked her naked buttocks at the wrestler as her crack opened and closed.

“Va-Va-Voom! Now that is a woman!! Can you do that?” he asked me.

I shook my head that I couldn’t and he dismissed me, sounding just like a wrestler giving a hyped pep talk to his fans, “You wouldn’t even know how to try!”

“Show me the tongue!” he slapped down another twenty and mom seemed even more resistant. She was already naked and moving her tits and ass at the same time while at least a dozen people watched her in broad daylight – what could the tongue do to add to the humiliation?

Mom let her tongue dart out like a snake when he added another ten dollars swearing, “You gon get got!!! BAM!”

It was long like my Aunt Crystal’s tongue – but certainly nothing to be all that embarrassed about.

Odd-Jobs had already made her show me her tongue ring but as it danced out of her mouth it took on an odd almost artistic quality – like it was part of her and an extension of her body.

I noticed a trace of silver reflecting light as she let her tongue slide out again in the most provocative way and began working her tongue in and out – folding it as she did and kissing the air.

The crescendo of her performance came when she made her tits, ass, and tongue all move in perfect harmony with the music and I was finally able to see again that she had a tongue ring – shaped like a tiny dick!

I was shocked –and mom looked mortified as she realized there was no way Conner or I could ever unsee her little performance and cock-shaped tongue ring! She was definitely much freakier than I could have ever imagined.

There was a little round of applause when the song ended and my mom’s performance ended. The Wrestler was satisfied declaring “Vintage!”, as he made his way stumbling back to the blue V.I.P., tent trying not to spill his beer.

Mom got dressed and looked at me sheepishly, like she had just been caught in another dirty little secret.

Conner coughed – he had watched the whole thing.

“Vintage, mom,” he quoted as she turned around to see the look of satisfaction on his face, “Vintage.”

The third kind of grift was called Who is Hotter? Mom and I would find a nice older gentleman and stage an argument about which one of us was hotter. “Who has hotter knees, Sir? Can you settle an argument with my skin and bones, daughter?”

We usually reserved this grift for a hard-sell that was there with their wife.

Mom picked up on these grifts rather quick and would try to put him on the spot to answer. Usually the man would answer something diplomatic about how he couldn’t, but we would badger him until he made a decision. “Well then who has the better butt?”

If he said something about not being able to tell, it was our opening to say, “Well feel mine – bounce a quarter on it – go ahead, bounce a quarter!”

Once we had him feeling our boobs and inner thighs – he was usually excited enough to see what else we would show him. This grift worked best if Ted or Catfish ran it because they could pretend to be fed up with our vanity and pestering the customer.

The nice gentleman would say how it was quite alright and he appreciated how friendly we were.

“Oh they are friendly alright,” Ted would say if we’d stop showing our asses and washed cars we wouldn’t be in the poor house and how he should put us out on J street to turn tricks.

The man would usually stand up for us and we would have to say something about how Ted was just jealous and why couldn’t he leave us alone.

“Fine, you want to teach your daughter to be a whore? I’ll make you a whore – you’d like that wouldn’t you?” he’d demand.

“I wish you would!” my mom would answer stubbornly as if he didn’t dare and then Ted would offer either of us or both and the prices. “Her daughter – I’ll make suck your cock! But you can do anything with this older whore,” he’d say.

“Uncle Ted – that’s awful! I would never do that –I’ve only done that for my boyfriend Ryan!” I’d say.

“Done what? Say it – sucked a cock? And Ryan? Pussy Boy over there looks like he likes men more than women. He probably sucked more dicks than you little girl!” Ted would insist I say ‘suck a cock’ and I’d try to sound like I was very inexperienced.

You would think men want expert cock-suckers but hearing I had only ever been with one guy – would make their ears perk up.

“Fine – I doubt he would go for it, but we really need the money and I mean bad. My mom and I blew it, we should have paid the rent, electricity, and they are right – we even stole from the house fund. If you won’t tell anyone here – I’ll suck your cock – and I’ll suck it right,” I’d plead.

Ted would add, “Damn right – and if she doesn’t – I’ll have her whore of a mother come finish the job! You’ll back me up, man? I wouldn’t ask if we were not desperate. We can keep this between us, right? Just bros?” Ted would say.

Naturally, 9 times out of 10 they would pay and pick me!

Mom didn’t say anything to me at all about the blowjobs. It was as if she pretended I went to the bathroom and came back. She didn’t say a word about me kissing my Aunt Crystal’s mouth and seemed to be in denial.

On our third or fourth grift she had a chance to talk to Delilah.

“So you are from Cherry Lawn, too?” mom asked politely.

“Yeah – but don’t say that so loud!” Delilah teased and it turns out we only lived a few streets away. My mom had heard of Mrs.Waxerman – the local gossip who was always stirring up shit or complaining to the home owners association about something or another.

“That is her – but we are a bit different as of late,” Delilah’s freckled-face and cute smile broadened.

“So how do you know Ted?” mom asked her while we tried to hose down a car and flag in another to take its place.

“I never met him until yesterday,” Delilah explained, “My step-dad was driving past and found out y’all needed help. He offered me up and here I am,” the way Delilah made it sound, even I was kind of shocked it happened like that.

I wanted to explain that I had talked to Professor Hooker several times before then, but he barely knew me and didn’t know Ted at all – so that really didn’t change things.

“You didn’t get worried about what you’d have to do or freak out?” my mom looked worried for her.

“Not at all. It was my duty and my step-dad had a good reason! “ Delilah answered sweetly.

“Yeah, but I mean – do YOU mind? Are you getting paid?” my mom asked skeptically.

“Oh no!” Delilah chuckled, “I am never allowed to handle money – neither is my Aunt. Money is the root of all evil and in the hands of the seed of evil it can bring nothing but ruin and idolatry. I am just happy to serve and be put in my place,” she answered with a very positive, fresh attitude.

“I know they got cameras everywhere and ears everywhere – but it’s just us girls now,” my mom was convinced Delilah was playing one of the roles we were assigned, “Are you just messing with me?”

“No Ma’am, I enjoy the discipline – and this treatment. I’d rather not deceive the men, but the female condition is one of lies and deceit; so I am doing nothing but exposing my true nature as a viper and a jezebel. If you’ll excuse me – I think that man wants a blow job and he is calling my name, please forgive me...” and off she skipped towards a 57 year old construction worker with her pony tails bobbing.

“I’ve met the strangest people since we came here,” mom confided in me after we were alone. “You should meet Angel’s sister some time. She won’t stop talking about her problems and all her drama – and if you listen and give her even the least bit of encouragement she’ll get drunk on vodka and follow you around the club,” she laughed.

“I never expected her to undress and stand out on the lawn – her father has some crazy ideas about his daughters!” mom was polishing a door handle as she talked to me.

“Yeah – I don’t know where he got THOSE ideas from,” I shook my head and polished right along with her – wiggling my ass.

The third grift was the simplest of the three and it was reserved for outrageous cat-calls from men. If they shouted “show us your hooters!” we’d whip our tits out real fast and holler at them, but if the request was something other than that – we’d try this grift.

If a guy just boldly asked to fuck one of us, or for us to suck his cock – even if he yelled it across Seminole Boulevard Mom would yell back, “You’ll have to ask my son!” or I would yell, “You’ll have to ask my brother!”

This would usually make them do a double take and grin – raise their eyebrows and drive off but 2 in 3 of them would pull over and see if we were serious. Those were our targets – cash money.

“Yes sir – I would love to do (this nasty thing) with a total stranger,” we’d say. Then we’d look at them hopefully and lick our lips – really seeming like depraved nymphomaniacs who were down to do anything for the sheer pleasure of it. It didn’t matter how painful, disgusting, weird or even impossible – the answer was always, “Yes, YES! Many times over YES!”

We had to make them really believe their particular fetish just happened to be the one that would make us orgasm and only if they were there to watch, participate, or have it done to them! It didn’t matter how young or how old – every guy seemed to have something from feet to butts to the smell of a pussy that turned them on in some weird, unusual way. The only constant was that they all seemed to have a secret fetish that most women wouldn’t let them indulge.

Once they thought they had a willing and kindred spirit – we broke the news that they would have to ask Conner. “If you had seen me on Friday – I would have just done it and said fuck it,” Mom might whisper conspiratorially to the trick adding, “but – I’ve been put on a short leash after fucking up repeatedly and being an irresponsible piece of shit – so it’s strictly formality – but you have to ask my Son Conner if it’s alright.”

They would rarely ask why, but it was important for the grift that we establish why it was up to him. If they saw Conner as the roadblock they would just tell us to ignore what the ‘little dork’ thought and come away with them to do whatever it was we pretended we wanted just as badly as they did.

This grift we didn’t have to think up anything on the spur of the moment. We’d just say yes to everything, Conner was the one who acted as the limiting factor and voice of reason. He would consider if it was going to take a long time, be risky, take us away from the pool, or just be too gross – and reject it right out of hand.

“You fart heads are HERE because you spent all our money on stupid crap and expensive colognes, and make up! Fad diets to make your fat-twinkie filled asses smaller so you can wiggle them in every man’s direction for your perverted pleasure – wrapping him around your fucking pinky fingers! Well, We don’t have any god-damned electricity and are fixing to get evicted!”

“So?” we’d say, playing the oblivious rich-bitch who thinks she doesn’t have any consequences and we can just pay with credit cards.

“You MAXXED out our credit cards with facelifts, facials, pedicures, manicures – everything is gone. You need to focus on washing cars! Hard, Honest work!” at this point Conner would pretend to get an idea and suggest to the person they could help us out for a ‘contribution’.

He would go back and forth with the person and I really grew to appreciate my brother’s ability to negotiate. He would never start with what he wanted them to choose. I was so naturally naïve and honest I would have started with my best offer and probably worked down from there.

“Tell you what – I’ll let them sit on your face for five minutes,” he might say.

“No, I want thirty minutes – and I want to be able to finger their asses, and lick them – and really explore,” the trick would repeat the disgusting little fantasy we agreed to right off.

“Please Conner? Pretty please?” we’d beg and flutter our eyes. The more we begged and sounded like we wanted to do it – I think the more he realized we really didn’t.

“I can’t spare thirty minutes!” Conner would demand and tell us to shut up, “You aren’t helping! Can’t you see this guy holds all the cards here? You’ve got us so far up shit’s creek without a paddle that I am willing to let you out of the deal! If Dad finds out you did this – he is going to have ME out here washing the trucks!”

Invoking my father would make my mom uncomfortable, but she didn’t let on to the trick. I’d notice a wince or a distant look but she would roll with the story and say, “Mike does not need to know – this will just be between us. We are all friends here – right? You wanna be my friend don’t you Sir?” she would flirt with the trick and remind him with a wink, “What happens at the Semen Hole – stays at the Semen hole!”

Conner would do at least four rounds of negotiations. The trick was usually so emotionally invested in doing this with us – he was willing to even pay more. I think on at least one occasion a nice old gentleman who just wanted to suck our titties drew out the negotiation because he enjoyed the exchange between Conner and him while we implored Conner to let us do it right there in the parking lot.

“There is kids around here – you two little skanks would love it but I won’t chance it,” Conner would reluctantly agree to let us do it in the V.I.P. area or the men’s bathroom. I felt bad for any guy trying to actually use the bathroom because now, with 8 girls working at the pool, there was usually at least one of us in there.

It was almost lunch time and things had gone fairly swimmingly until Tyga Haislip came over and asked to see us kiss. I hadn’t actually had to play with my mom until this point.

I looked over at the wanna-be rapper with fire in my eyes. I had kissed Crystal and Savannah many times – but I felt this was a little too far. He took the look to mean I was super excited over the idea.

“Hey Mike!” I heard Ted offer a hearty welcome to someone behind me. My eyes widened in absolute panic! I was caught flat-footed with a sponge and my nipples popped out of my tiny bathing suit.