THE VOODOO DUDE

Chapter 9

By Earl DeVere

(MMFg, voy, mast, Mgg, oral, Mg)

Frank & Evie skinny dip with Paul & Allie where Frank photographs the girls nude....

Chapters | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 |


Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyrighted 2020 with all rights expressly reserved by its author unless explicitly granted.


Warning: This is just a story. Please do not try this at home.

Standard Disclaimer: This story contains sexually graphic and explicit material and as such it is not suitable for minors. If you are a minor, please leave now as it is illegal for you to be here. If it is illegal for you to read or view sexually explicit material in the community you view such material, please leave now. This story and characters are purely fictional and any resemblance to events or persons (living or dead) is purely coincidental. If you are offended by sexually explicit stories, please read no further. If you are offended by stories featuring group sex, bisexual situations, incest, sex between minors and adults, or any other situation, please check the story code before reading the text. These stories are just that, stories, and do not promote or condone the activities described herein, especially when it comes to unsafe sexual practices or sex between adults and minors.



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I was up, brewing coffee, when I heard Charlotte say, "Come on in and have breakfast with me, Hank. And maybe a little prickly pear wine to help you wind down."

I quickly threw on my bathrobe. Then, I moved my typewriter out of the way and invited Hank to sit at the head of the table.

"How do you like your eggs, Hank?" she asked.

"Over easy," he replied.

"Cook us up some breakfast, Frank."

"Yes, ma'am. Right away, ma'am," I replied, bowing and backing away.

"Stop it!" she laughed. "Frank is definitely not the subservient type. I'm not a good cook. He is."

Hank sat at the table, and had two cups of wine while I fried up bacon, hashbrowns and eggs.

"I can't believe that y'all are friends with Bongo Joe. I thought he was just an urban legend," Hank said. "This doesn't taste alcoholic at all."

I set his plate in front of him as Evie came out of our bedroom, naked, and wandered sleepily to the bathroom. She didn't close the door before sitting on the toilet and peed. She was directly in Hank's line of sight.  He stared at her, mesmerized.

She realized he was there, and smiled at him. It wasn't one of her enticing, alluring or provocative smiles. It was just a friendly smile of acknowledgement.

The toilet flushed, and he shook his head, as though awaking from a trance. "I... I'm sorry. I didn't mean to stare."

"That's okay," Evie said. "I didn't mind. You liked watching me pee. And I liked having you watching me while I was peeing."

"No! I…" he paused, looked at me, then at Charlotte, then at Evie. "Yes. I confess, I did enjoy watching you pee. I couldn't look away."

"You're up early," I said. "You usually sleep like the dead until 10."

She shrugged her shoulders, "I had to pee. I'm going back to bed."

"I'm sorry," Hank apologized. "I don't know what came over me. I just couldn't stop staring."

"No apology necessary," I said.

He picked up the cock-and-cunt cup and stared at it. "Maybe this wine has more of an effect than I thought."

"It's sneaky shit," I laughed. "It sneaks up on you. It short circuits your filters, and makes you honest. It frees you to be the real you, and not the you that you want people to think you are."

He set the cup down and pushed it an arm's length away. "No more for me."

"Your breakfast is getting cold," I said.

We finished breakfast in relative silence.

"Thank you for breakfast," he said, walking toward the door. "It's past my bedtime." He froze in mid-step as he passed the bedroom door. He stopped and stared at Evie, who was lying on her right side, asleep, with her right hand covering her pussy, facing the door.

Again, Hank seemed to be in a momentary trance, unable to look away.

"She is beautiful," I whispered. "No one could blame you for staring. It's not gawking, it's more like admiring and appreciating a work of art."

"Yes. Yes. That's exactly how it feels; like admiring a painting or sculpture."

"Would you like a closer look, Hank?" Charlotte asked.

Hank nodded, and we walked into the bedroom together.

"Walk around the bed," I said. "Get a view from all angles."

He walked around the bed, looking at her from behind and admiring our daughter's delectable derriere. His hand went to the bulge in his sea blue pants. He gave it a squeeze before becoming aware of what he was doing. He jerked his hand away, and looked at me.

I smiled and nodded encouragement, and looked down at my right hand, holding the bulge in my robe. "Like admiring fine erotic art," I whispered reverently.

"Very erotic," he agreed, gripping his bulge. He looked at Charlotte, whose right hand was between her legs.

I eased the robe aside and slowly stroked my cock. Charlotte unbuckled her belt, unbuttoned her waistband, unzipped the fly and stuck her right and into her pants.

Hank quickly followed our lead. He pushed his pants and boxers down to mid thigh and stroked his phallus. "So erotic," he sighed.

We masturbated and ejaculated without waking Evie.

I got a washcloth from the bathroom and threw it to Hank. He cleaned up, zipped up, buttoned up, and buckled up.

"Are you going to come for me... I mean, pick me up this evening?" Charlotte asked.

"Yes. Same time."

"You're welcome to have breakfast with us again," I said. "Blueberry pancakes tomorrow."

"Thank you," he said, leaving.

"That was a fun way to start the day," I said.

"You're not finished yet," Charlotte said. "Fuck me."

We fucked. I pounded her hot juicy cunt mercilessly, giving her at least two orgasms. Then, I gave her another one with my tongue. She fell asleep with her final climax.

I cleaned the breakfast dishes, and wrote up an outline of the history Joseph gave me. He could fill me in on the details later. A sketch of Banunu history would be the first part of the series, which would end with the arrival of the US Army deserters, survivors of the San Patricio Battalion, whose descendants would become the O'Mafia.

Evie awoke and said, "That old guy is the one who's going to retire in four months. I like him. He's nice."

"He likes you too."

"I could tell."

"What do you want for breakfast?"

"Wheaties and banana slices."

"What are your plans?"

"I don't know. What are you going to do?"

"Explore the bayside of the island in the canoe."

"I'll go with you."

I put my Tele-Takumar 300 mm lens on my Pentax Spotmatic, and my 50mm in my fanny pack. Most photojournalists use Nikon, but I picked up the Pentax and 50mm cheap at a flea market. The telephoto wasn't cheap.

A narrow inlet from the bay was within a few yards of the employee parking lot. And within minutes, we were in Bahia Esmeralda, hugging the shore and paddling south. We had been on the water less than an hour when I spotted a bald eagle in a tree. I got three shots of it in the tree, and at least one in flight. I wasn't sure about the third and forth shots. I might have been a bit shaky, and the boat was rocking.

"Did you get it?" a man asked.

"Mr. Thomas! Allie!" Evie squealed.

They paddled toward us from the south.

"I'm pretty sure I got at least one, maybe two good shots in the tree. Possibly one in flight."

"I would love to have copies. I'm willing to pay."

"If any of them are any good, I'll give you prints. I'm shooting black and white. But that's not a problem since it's black and white."

"It's a magnificent bird."

"I've never seen one in the wild," I said. "I hope I have at least one decent shot."

"Me too," he said.

Evie said, "I met your friend, Angie, from your dance class. And her sisters; Liz and Suzy." She was looking pointedly at Mr. Thomas when she said, 'Suzy.'

He flinched. I was certain he got the message that Evie knew about him and his preteen paramour.

"She told me about you," Allie responded.

That meant Allie was told about the fucking. Her suspicions had been verified.

Judging from their behaviors, I felt certain that Allie didn't know about her father and Suzy, and that Paul didn't know about Evie's fucking. He suspected, but was uncertain.

"Where did y'all put in?" I asked.

"About a mile to the south. A public boat ramp that was cleared before the jungle was declared a wildlife refuge."

"Let's stay with them, Daddy. Mr. Harris can take pictures of birds for you."

"You point, and I'll shoot," I said cheerfully..

He strained his brain, searching for a reasonable reason to refuse, but couldn't find one. He reluctantly agreed.

Allie seemed to know his reluctance stemmed from my permissive parenting.

We had been paddling slowly southward when Evie said, "Look, Dad, a pond!"

It was an almost perfectly round inlet, about 12 feet in diameter.

"Let's skinny dip!"

"We don't skinny dip," Paul stated adamantly.

"Why not?" Evie asked.

"Because we just don't. It's unacceptable."

"You've never skinny dipped?" Evie asked.

His hesitancy to answer was his answer.

"You have! You've gone skinny dipping before!"

"When, Daddy? When did you go skinny dipping?"

"Your mother and I were hippies in the sixties."

"You went skinny dipping when Allie was a baby," Evie said.

"You and Momma were hippies!?!" Allie asked, shocked.

"Yes, up until your Uncle Kevin died of a heroin overdose," he said. "Your mother turned to religion, and I went straight.  I became a teacher, setting a good example for my students."

Evie chuckled, and he shot her a look.

"Did you take Allie skinny dipping with you when she was a baby?"

Allie saw the look on her father's face. "You did! You and Momma took me skinny dipping with y'all."

Evie said, "You went skinny dipping when you were a kid, too. Didn't you?"

"It was just me and a few of my friends. Just boys."

"Let's do it, Daddy! Let's skinny dip. Momma doesn't need to know."

"Come on, Dad," Evie said. "Let's do it. They don't have to come with us."

We paddled into the pool, and pulled the canoe up onto the grassy bank. Evie quickly stripped and dove in. At its deepest point, the water was a little more than waist deep to me.

I stripped and swam a little.

Allie got naked quickly before her father could change his mind. He reluctantly removed his clothing. Then quickly dove in before the girls could notice his rapidly tumefying penis. Evie noticed, and Allie might have.

Soon, the girls were running, jumping and dancing in calf deep water.

I slinked over to our canoe, got the camera, switched out lenses, and started shooting.

Paul was so entranced watching the girls, that it took him a while to realize I was photographing them.

"Hey! You can't do that."

"Why not, Daddy?"

"Because he doesn't have my permission. He didn't ask for my permission."

"It's been my experience that it's easier to get forgiveness than permission," I said. I didn't have an erection because I was concentrating on focus and composition.

Paul didn't come out of the water, because it would expose his 6 or 7-inch boner. "Take the film out now! Destroy it!"

"No. The eagle is on this roll. My daughter's on this roll. I'll destroy the negs with Allie in them or crop her out, if you want."

"No, Daddy! I want to see the pictures. Maybe I'll even want to keep some."

"No one else will see them. Right?" Paul said,

"The Boudreauxs might. I'll be using The Gazette's darkroom and lab."

"They're really cool people," Evie said.

At that moment, a towboat, the Collette Malloy, pushed a string of full oil barges past on the Intracoastal Waterway.

"Out of the water!" I ordered. "Pull the canoes further up on land."

Paul hesitated. I grabbed his right upper arm and pulled him out. The girls gawked at his erection and giggled.

"Pull your canoe up, or you'll lose it."

The barges' wake rushed ashore as we were pulling the canoes.

"Is it dangerous to be in the water?" Evie asked.

I picked up a piece of driftwood about 4 inches in diameter and nearly 3 feet long. I threw it into the little lagoon. It was waterlogged, and barely buoyant. It washed in with the wake. The wake rapidly ebbed, sucking the driftwood with it. It was sucked out to the middle of the waterway and was briefly sucked under behind the stern of the boat.

"Yep," I said, "It's fairly dangerous."

"Wow!" Allie exclaimed. "How did you know that?"

"I was in the navy for a few years, and after that, I briefly worked as a deckhand on the Collette Malloy." I said. "There's something called the 'Texas Chicken Maneuver' on the Houston Ship Channel. When two ships approach each other, they steer a little to the right. The bow wakes push them away from each other and keeps them apart. Then the stern wakes suck them back to the middle of the channel behind each other after they pass. Pretty cool."

"Ingenious, actually," Paul said, momentarily forgetting about the photos.

"When are you going to develop the pictures, Dad?"

"As soon as we can get to the fire station." I said.

"Fire station?" Allie asked.

"The Gazette's offices and printing plant is in an old fire station," Evie said. "Really really cool!"

"Let's go with them, Daddy."

"Our car is at the boat ramp."

"Come with us," I said. "We can strap your canoe onto my Bronco, and I can take you to your car."

"Let's do it, Daddy," Allie begged.

"Yeah, Dad," Evie said with a heavy hint of innuendo, "Let's Do It."

Allie giggled.

The girls wouldn't allow us to have a leisurely paddle to the parking lot inlet. We strapped the Coleman to the Bronco, drove to the boat ramp, transferred the canoe to Paul's '76 Blue Dodge Aspen Station Wagon. Then we drove to the fire station, where the entire Boudreaux family was present.

The clatter of the AP teletype, and the acrid odor of a facsimile machine made me feel at home. "It was installed yesterday," Abigail said. "It's wonderful. I don't know if I'll ever get used to the racket."

"Newsroom background music to my ears," I said. "I want to process and print some photos."

"For the Gazette?"

"No. Personal."

"Have at it."

Three of the eagle photos were good..borderline excellent. One perched, one spreading wings, and one in flight.

Several photos of the girls were excellent; perfectly focused, perfectly composed.

"You made us look beautiful!" Allie said.

"I didn't *make* you look beautiful. I merely captured your natural beauty."

"You are a flannel tongued devil," Abigail laughed. "And an artist. These really are works of art. They look like cavorting Nereids."

"What's a Nereid?" Allie asked.

"A sea nymph," Paul explained.

"Nymph?" Evie asked. "Like in nympho?"

Paul cleared his throat nervously. "Well, yes. Since nymphs were portrayed as cavorting with satyrs. And satyrs were lustful mythical creatures."

"Satyrs?"

"Mythical creatures with human faces and bodies, but with goats legs, ears and  horns."

"Yep," Abigail laughed. "They were horny creatures."

"Ma'am!" Paul exclaimed, looking from her to the girls.

"Really!?!" Abigail asked. "Are you honestly telling me that you didn't know about horniness and nymphos when you were their age? And, believe it or not, girls experience horniness earlier than boys."

"Are y'all staying for lunch?" Nate asked. "We're ordering pizza."

"Come look at these photos, Nate," Abigail said. "Our new editor is not just a journalist and photojournalist; he's a fucking artist with a camera."

Suddenly, Nate, Lem, Sol, and young Dwight were passing the prints around, commenting on the quality of the photos and the beauty of the nymphs. It happened so quickly, Paul didn't have time to object.

In the beginning, he seemed to be very uneasy about the activity and comments. The prints were passed to him, and soon, he was commenting and passing them on. There was also a definite bulge in his shorts.

Soon, the Boudreauxs  and I were unobtrusively adjusting bulges, or trying to be unobtrusive for Paul's and Allie's benefit. Then, I caught Paul adjusting his. We made eye contact. He looked guilty until I grinned, and openly gave my bulge a squeeze.

 "Let's get on home, Allie, before your mother starts worrying."

"Evie invited me to sleepover in her cabin."

"Let's clear it with your mother."

"Come on, Daddy. You know she won't let me sleep over until she's met the parents, and have an FBI background check."

"It's not that bad."

She whispered in his ear.

I thought I heard, "pants in the family."

He sighed deeply, shrugged his shoulders, and gave in. "Go ahead. I'll deal with your mother."

She squealed, hugged his neck and bathed his face with kisses.

"Y'all have to keep it quiet until Charlotte wakes up. It may take a while for her to adjust to the night shift."

When we got to the cabin, Charlotte was brewing coffee, and eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

"I need a shower," Evie said. "I feel gritty and yucky."

"Me too," Allie said.

"We can shower together."

"I never showered with anybody else before."

I said, "I'll take a shower after y'all finish."

"Shower with us, Dad."

"The shower isn't that roomy. And I am absolutely certain Allie's parents would strongly disapprove."

"I wouldn't tell," Allie said.

"What's the big deal, Daddy?" Evie chided. "Allie's already seen your cock a couple of times. She's seen it when you had a hard-on. She told me that she liked seeing your hard cock."

"Evie!!!" Allie squealed.

"What? I don't keep secrets from my parents. I tell them everything."

"Really? Everything?"

"Every-fucking-thing," Evie affirmed. "Allie said that she wished she could have watched me suck your cock when her and her Dad paddled away. She said she could tell that I was going down on you, but didn't actually see your cock in my mouth."

"Y'all really need to be more careful," Charlotte admonished. "We don't want to have Child Protective Services investigating us. They could take you away and put you in foster care." 

"We're safe here on The Island," Evie asserted. "We're protected. It's our magic place."

"Let's not push our luck," Charlotte replied.

"All of the kids in daycare know all about us, and they go home and tell other kids," Evie said.

Allie added, "All of the kids in Isabel Mirrow's School of Dance know. Angie told me and her other friends. I've told friends what Angie told me, and I know that they'll tell other friends."

"Exactly what is it that everyone's been told?" Charlotte asked.

"Evie's Daddy let's Evie do anything Evie wants to do. Any effing thing."

"You can say 'Fucking' here," Evie said. "You can talk to my parents the same way you talk to your friends. You don't have to act innocent."

"They say, 'Evie's Daddy lets Evie do anything that Evie wants to do. Any fucking thing. And Evie's Daddy knows that Evie wants to fuck. Evie wants to fuck a lot.' And, some of them say she doesn't fuck boys. She only wants men fucking her."

Evie said, "You can tell them that Evie's Daddy loves watching other men fuck me, and watching me suck other men's cocks. Evie's Daddy loves licking and sucking other men's cum out of his daughter's cunt and mouth."

"Jesus fucking Christ," Charlotte gasped. "This is so fucking hot. Allie, you can tell your friends that Evie's Mommy is a slut for teenagers. Evie's Mommy wants lots and lots of hard teen cock pumping teen cum in her cunt and mouth and ass."

"Uncle Bernie's fucked me in the ass," Allie confessed in a near whisper. "He's Momma's big brother."

"Have you told anyone else?" Evie asked.

She shook her head. "I think that maybe he told his best friend, Daniel. The way he looks at me sometimes."

"Does that make you angry?" I asked. "That he revealed your secret."

"Kind of, at first. Then, I kind of liked a grown up man looking at me that way, and knowing what I've done. It made me all tingly down there. It made my pussy tingle. I thought about him looking at me that way while I finger fucked my cunt."

She quickly warmed up to talking dirty to adults.

"You get off to a grownup knowing your secret. It pissed you off at first. Then it made you hot, knowing a man knows that your uncle is butt fucking. You like him knowing that you are a nasty girl. Don't you?"

"Yes, sir, I guess I do."

"Are there any other men with whom you want to be sexually?"

She slowly nodded, blushed and whispered, "My Daddy."

Evie said, "I think y'all got a good start today. Y'all have been naked together. I bet he wants to see you naked again. Your mother doesn't like fucking. Does she?"

"I heard Daddy telling her that he wished she would do more than just lay there and allow him to do it to her. He said that she used to love doing it. And she said that was when she was a sinner, and before she accepted the Lord Jesus Christ as her savior."

"That's a shame," Charlotte sighed. "If God didn't want us to fuck, why in hell did he give us such enjoyable genitalia? And, the imagination and the ability to do it in so many different positions? I think we're the only creatures on earth who suck cock."

I laughed, "It would be like me giving Evie a motorscooter, and telling her that she is forbidden to ride it, or show it to anyone, or even tell anyone she has it, and then demand that she get down on her knees every day and thank me for that gift she's not permitted to enjoy. Is that something a loving god would do?"

"Come on, Dad. Get naked. Let's shower."

We took turns standing under the showerhead, rinsing the grit and grime off our bodies. Evie and I soaped up and scrubbed Allie's body, then kissed her all over as the spray rinsed the soap away. Evie supported her while I was on my knees, tongue lashing her pussy.

Her knees buckled when she cried out in ecstasy, but with Evie's arms around her flat chest, and my hands gripping her hips, prevented her from collapsing.

Then it was Evie's turn to be soaped up, scrubbed, rinsed and cunnilinguized, with Allie providing support.

They then soaped, scrubbed, and rinsed me, kissing me all over as the suds washed away. Then, they took turns fellating my phallus. Allie was inexperienced. Evie provided instruction and advice. I held on the sturdy curtain rod for support.

I felt the pressure building. "I'm goin to cum!"

My daughter took my cock in her mouth, moved her head back and forth while sucking hungrily.

"Oh, Baby!" I moaned, ejaculating into her mouth and down her throat.

After my final ejaculation, she stood, and we kissed. Her tongue pushed some of my semen into my mouth.

"How does it taste?" Allie asked.

Evie kissed her. Allie kissed back, and they embraced passionately, their lithe bodies undulating against each other.

Watching their kiss made my erection resurrect.

Evie broke the kiss, and looked at my stiff cock.

"Allie, do you want to watch my father fuck my pussy. I really love having someone watch us fuck. It's so hot because it's a huge no no for daddies to fuck their daughters. If I could have only one man fucking me, it would be Daddy."

"Yes," Allie agreed. "It's so hot. I wish my Daddy would fuck me."

"It will happen soon," Evie said. "I promise."

Allie laughed,  "I don't really believe in that VooDoo stuff."

"Believe it," I said. "If Evie wants it to happen on this island, it will happen."

"Do you want to believe that your father will fuck you very soon?" Evie asked.

"Yes, of course, I want to believe. I want Daddy to fuck me. Daddy doesn't believe in superstitions. He says all religions are superstitions. There are no gods or demons or heavens or hells. Belief in anything supernatural is a superstition."

Evie pronounced, "Your father will fuck you before sunrise Monday, if you allow it to happen. Joseph says, Follow your urges. Be honest. Believe in luck, and believe that you are lucky,"

 "I do believe in luck," Allie said. "And I've been very lucky since I met you on The Lagoon the other day. Ever since I saw you and your Daddy naked together, I've wanted to be naked with my Daddy. And today, that happened. You're my Lucky Charm."

"People eat their Lucky Charms," Evie giggled. "Eat me."

Allie didn't hesitate. She dropped to her knees, grasped Evie's hips, and buried her face in Evie's crotch.

Evie pushed her away. "Eat your Lucky Charm after you watch my Daddy fuck my pussy, and fill it with his lucky cum."

"Lucky cum?" Allie giggled.

"Yes," I said. "It's lucky to be filling my daughter's hot cunt."

"Fuck me, Daddy."

Hearing Evie say those three words is almost enough to give me an orgasm. It causes an instant and abundant flow of pre-cum.

"On your back, Daddy. I want Allie to watch your cock fucking my cunt."

I got onto my back, and she straddled me.

"Hold Daddy's hard cock, Allie. Guide it into my pussy."

I bucked and writhed like a wild stallion, as she bounced up and down like a wild rodeo cowgirl.

Allie whimpered and moaned, watching us and madly rubbing her engorged clit. "Fuck her, Mr. Harris! Fuck Evie! Fuck your slut daughter!"

I felt the burning sensation and pressure of my building orgasm, and rolled Evie over onto her back. I rammed my cock in and pounded hard and fast until cum erupted in spasms.

After the last cock quiver, Evie pushed me off. "Eat your Lucky Charm now, Allie. Eat my Daddy's cream pie."

Allie dove in, and hungrily gobbled up my hot fresh semen.

"That is so fucking hot!" Charlotte exclaimed.

I had forgotten she was home.

"I'm going to run down to the gate to see if I can call the Cavenders and see if it's okay to bring Evie's friend along."

I got hard again watching Allie.

After thoroughly cleaning Evie's vagina, Allie took my cock in her mouth. Evie gave her cocksucking instructions. She depleted my semen reserves.

Charlotte returned. "The gate guard was afraid to call the Cavenders. The employees have strict instructions not to disturb the Cavenders on weekends. I convinced the kid (he's a 19-year-old seasonal guard and weekend guard) to give me the Cavender's number. I called. Fred answered. I apologized for disturbing them, and asked about bringing Allie along for dinner. He said that any friend of Evie's is welcomed at his table at any time."

"He doesn't even know me," Evie said. "I don't think he's ever seen me."

"I'm certain Francy has told him all about you," I said.

"That gate guard was cute," Charlotte said. "I caught him looking me over and undressing me with his eyes."

"Don't," I said.

"What?"

"Don't fuck coworkers."

"There's no superior-subordinate relationship there," she said. "I read the regs."

"Maybe there's no specific prohibition. It's just good practice."

"Yeah, Mom. Don't get your meat where you get your bread."

"What!?!" Charlotte laughed.

"I heard our principal saying that to a teacher last year."

"And you knew what it meant?"

"Duh?"

"Do you know something I don't know?" Charlotte asked, looking me in the eye.

"Yes, I do. And I can't tell you."

"O.K. then," she said, and dropped the subject.

We all got spiffied up for dinner in the Emerald Room... reservations and appropriate attire required. Although Allie was nearly a year younger than Evie, she was slightly taller and thinner. Evie's dresses fit, but were a tad short, exposing a lot of Allie's long legs.

Charlotte wore her uniform, since she would be going directly to work after dinner.

The Emerald Room was a large windowless space with soft green lighting. Tables were spaced well apart. Heavy green velvet drapery covered the walls, or what I thought were the walls. There were several private alcoves of varying sizes behind the drapes.

Inside the Cavenders' alcove was a round table and a circular booth. Evie and Allie were seated on either side of 70-year-old Fred. Francy sat between me and Evie. Charlotte sat beside Allie.

"The Emerald Room specializes in French, Deep South, Cajun and Creole cuisines," Fred said.

"Deep south?" I said. "Chicken fried steak. And it better be good if you don't want a shitty review."

Fred laughed. "I like you, Frank."

The meal was perfect. The price tag was outrageous.

"I'd have to take out a bank loan for the 20 percent tip," I said.

"Our chef's family operates The Soul Kitchen downtown. Same quality, easily affordable prices," Fred said. "Downtown, he's known as Bayou Bobby. Here, he is the highly respected Chef Robert." (pronounced Row-Bear).

After dinner, Fred told the waiter to call Agent Ballard to pick up Charlotte and the girls.

"I had hoped to see your famous bikini," Fred said.

Evie turned on her coquettish charm, and replied, "It's too bad employees and their families can't use the swimming pools."

Fred chuckled, "Tomorrow morning, Agent Ballard will deliver two purple and gold wristbands, which will allow you permanent access to all of the resort's facilities. Don't tell anyone that you are in any way related to an employee."

"What if someone asks?" Evie said.

"No one will ask. Those wristbands indicate that you are my personal guests."

"Cool!" Evie squealed, hugging his neck and kissing his mouth. Allie kissed him also.

The maitre d' announced Agent Ballard's arrival.

"How about one more kiss before you go?" Fred begged.

Evie again hugged and kissed him. The kiss lingered longer than before. Allie kissed him passionately. When Evie kissed him one more time, his left hand squeezed her left buttock.

"You are a dirty old man," she whispered in his ear, before kissing him passionately.

After Charlotte and the girls left, Fred and Francie told me their story, with Francy happily rejecting Fred's urgings to skip over the naughty parts.

Fred joined the Navy at the age of 17 in 1923 to become a cook. He wanted to be a chef. He was a cook 2nd class, when he left the navy in 1947. Had he reenlisted, he would have immediately been promoted to Cook 1st Class. But, like me, he despised the military. He got what he wanted out of the navy and got out.

He was immediately hired as the saute chef at a fancy San Francisco restaurant. He rented a room in Francy's mother's boarding house, and took a part time job as a fry cook in a cheap diner, so he could save money for his own restaurant.

Nine year old Francy fell in love with him, and used her mother's master key to get into his room and climb in bed with him.

The sous chef at the restaurant was offered the chef's job at Emerald Isle Resort the following year, and asked Fred to join him as his sous chef.

Francy's mother allowed her to accompany Fred, "She had no choice, really," Francy chuckled. "She knew that if she didn't let me go, I would run away from home and hitchhike across country to be with him."

"The job turned out to be a fucking nightmare," Fred said. "Angus Drumph was the general manager. General mismanager. He was a cheap asshole, trying to cut corners everywhere. This was a high class, high dollar place, and he was letting it go to seed. Andre quit, leaving me in charge of the kitchen."

The resort operated short-handed, and Fred filled in at other positions. Then one night, he was working the switchboard, and overheard Drumph and someone else planning to abscond with resort funds. Fred went to the O'Mafia with the information. He begged them to make him the GM, and to invest more money in the operation.

Drumph disappeared and was never heard from again. In addition to embezzling funds from the resort, he had huge gambling debts.

Fred took over operation of the resort. The only scrimping he did was on himself and Francy. They went for more than a decade receiving no salary. They lived in a small room and ate in the resort's least expensive restaurant. Their only luxury was room service breakfasts on weekends. Young Francy was given more and more responsibilities. Fred traveled around the country, trying to attract convention business.

One evening when Fred was filling in for a sick bartender, and Francy worked as a cocktail waitress, a customer offered her money to go to his room with him.

"Fred was pissed. He was going to kick the guy out. Then I told him how much I was offered, and that we could really use the dough," Francy explained. "Then, I was selling pussy on a regular basis to keep the pace afloat. We both bemoaned it as a necessary evil. There were the prostitution arrests in Dallas and New Orleans."

"I really felt awful about her having to do that. But she was willing, and it was the only way we could see to get out of debt."

Francy sighed, "Then, one day, we realized that we had made it through the rough patch. I didn't have to sell pussy anymore.  We celebrated. The more we talked about how glad we were that I no longer had to prostitute myself, the more I missed it. One night, I said, what if you pimped me off just for the fun of it."

Fred added, "Once in a while, on a slow night, I'd give the bartender a paid night off, and fill in for him. Some conventioneer or travelling salesman would ask about women. I'd call Francy in our room, and tell her I was sending a man up, and to show him a good time. And, sometimes, she'd come to me and say that she was going up to a guest's room to show him a good time. And she'd hand me the money he gave her."

I asked, "It was still a resort for the super wealthy then?"

"Yeah. But that ended in the mid 50s, when they could jet set around the world. And, Vegas opened up. I saw the writing on the wall, called travel writers, and offered them free weekends, casino chips, escorts... including my lovely wife."

Francy said, "We lowered the room rates, and became a middle class tourist destination overnight."

"Then in '57 the Texas attorney general and the Texas Rangers shut down gambling. The O'Mafia saw it coming after the crackdown on Galveston. They had already made investments in Nevada."

Before I left, Fred said, "Tell your sexy daughter and her sexy friend that they're especially welcomed at the bungalow swimming pool. It's always the least crowded, and it's the one I use on Sunday mornings."

I walked from The Emerald Room to our jungle cabin, and encountered Charlotte and Hank along the way. "How'd it go, Babe? Did you get some good stuff?"

"Great stuff."

The radio crackled, "Main Gate to Unit One."

"Unit One," Hank said into the mic.

"A Mr. Paul Thomas is here. He says his daughter is spending the night with an employee's daughter in the jungle. He needs to talk to her."

"Direct him to the employees' gate. We'll meet him there."

"He says he wants to take her home. A family emergency."

"We'll bring her to the employee's gate."

"I wonder what's up?" Charlotte said.

"Hop on," Hank said. "We'll go get her."

We went to the cabin, where Allie cleaned up quickly and put her bathing suit on.

Paul was outside of his car, pacing when we arrived.

"What happened?" Allie asked. "Is Momma alright."

"Your mother decided to become a missionary. She's going to some Central American shithole to spread the good word. She'll be leaving tomorrow after the morning service, and wants us to be there."

"Are you O.K. Daddy?"

"Me? Yeah, I'm fine. She just wanted you home her last night in the states."

"How long will she be gone?"

"Three months, maybe longer."

She hugged him. He couldn't see the broad grin on her face.

She hugged Evie, who whispered, "It's happening."

They left. Evie and I walked back to our cabin. I told her about the Bungalow pool.

We fucked, and fell to sleep together.

End of Chapter 9

In Chapter Hank photographs Frank and Evie naked in bed, and Frank meets the birthday boy. Mr. Cavender fucks Evie in the pool...

LINK TO CHAPTER 10

Link to other stories by Earl DeVere

RETURN TO TORRID TALES OF THE TABOO


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