The Bloodlines of the Bayou Clans
Caution: This Erotic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Mult, Consensual, Mind Control, Lesbian, BiSexual, Heterosexual, Fiction, Vampires, Spanking, Rough, Orgy, Interracial, Black Female, Black Male, White Female, First, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Masturbation, Sex Toys, Exhibitionism, Violent,
Desc: Erotic Sex Story: Chapter 1 - A missing girl in the Bayou draws Harry Henderson back to the place he vowed he would never return. At least he was being paid double fee for his investigation into the mystery. A short story of 14,000 words that ties in with "The Voodoo Queen" and "Vampire Erotica".
There is a place not far from "The Big Easy" that looks like a retro postcard or a scene from some Hollywood grade "B" movie conjured up by a jaded "Film noir" aficionado after a lost weekend of steady boozing. That was my destination for this new job I just got hired for at double pay for quick results. I had been there once before and was glad to get out in one piece. It was only the promise of double pay and the fact I was stone-cold broke that made me break my vow to never go back to the shadowy place for the remainder of my earthly existence.
My name is Harry. Harry Henderson if you must know.
I was hired over the phone by some slow talking yahoo who sounded like he was auditioning for the role of "Big Daddy" in "Cat on a Hot Tin Roof". At first, I thought it was one of my practical-joking pals from the sleazy bar on the water in my hometown of Mobile, Alabama. I was ready to mess with his mind when I realized he was all serious about hiring me and it was definitely not one of my friends because he used a few fifty cent words that those ignoramuses couldn't spell much less pronounce without tutoring.
The prospect of an all-expenses paid tour of New Orleans was too tempting for me to turn down and later that evening I was on the highway pointed west to the mighty Mississippi. I drove all night and the sun was just rising over my shoulder when I reached the bridge over the river and tuned in at an exit that had a waffle house flashing the "Open 24 hours" sign. The place was crowded for sunrise but then these joints were generally filled with people looking for the solace of coffee and calories at all hours of the day and night.
The waitress was a rough-looking broad with not one but two pens stuck behind her left ear like some parody of Tiffany's baubles with a purpose. Her uniform was stained so it must have been near the end of her shift.
She poured the black brew into a thick cup that had seen better days without even waiting for a reply. It looked like she had reached that point in sleeplessness when everything was on "automatic pilot" and she was locked in for the final approach. I ordered the Omelet special and got a side order of hash browns well done and scattered. Her name tag identified her as Leanne but I bet it was really two words and not just one.
A couple of whores were sitting in the end booth with their pimp across from them with his legs stretched out on the bench like a Roman emperor waiting for some grapes to be peeled. It was really funny but I was careful not to look too long or crack a smile that might be considered as not showing proper respect. The young girl at the counter with the desperate look was probably a runaway and I could see the pimp eyeing her like a side of beef ready to be graded. She didn't even seem old enough to be drinking coffee but I bet she was street-wise on what really counted a long time ago. I kept my hat down low on my forehead like some punk trying to get around the overhead cameras and I was careful to put my back against the wall because you never could tell about these places in the off-hours.
Leanne got relieved by a fat black woman with a no-nonsense look and that practiced air of familiarity that marked her as an "old pro" in the Waffle House game. I paid my tab and went outside to buy a newspaper before getting back into the old Chevy and heading up the road for the meet with the shady sounding southern lawyer who promised a fifty percent advance for the first week. That was a yard plus two "C-notes" and an opportunity for a bonus for successful results.
The tired waitress was sipping on a container of her own coffee and obviously waiting to be picked up by her "no sense of time" ride. To make matters worse it was starting to drizzle with that sort of penetrating wetness that just soaked down to the undies and made one uncomfortable in a matter of minutes. I took a chance and asked,
"You need a ride somewhere? I am heading a bit further west but am in no hurry."
She looked up at me with that look that said it all. It said she suspected me of being a pervert looking to get laid or a blowjob and that she was too tired to even open her mouth. I wanted to reassure her of my good intentions but in all honesty, the thought had crossed my mind.
"I am heading to the patch. It's just down the road a piece and you can drop me off right by the highway. Either my boyfriend is sleeping off a hangover or he never got home at all last night."
I was surprised she lived in the patch. It was a place that law enforcement visited every night because of the drunken parties and the wild actions of the young people taking the new chemical drugs that were everywhere these days. They were so cheap that even people below the poverty line could be full-time junkies without any strain on the wallet or purse at all.
When she got out of the rain into the car, I could not help but notice she had some nice-looking pins even with the flats on her feet for working a twelve hour shift.
"Where are you heading, Mister?"
I realized that I had the advantage of her because of her nametag providing it was providing accurate information.
"Well, Leanne, I am due over in Marion up by the Bayou turn off but not until later this morning. Got some business with folks up there and should be in this area for the next week or two. By the way, my name is Harry and I am from up around Mobile way although I am originally from New York City."
She slid forward in the seat and I could see how lean and flat her stomach was under the uniform. That really impressed me for someone who worked in a Waffle House. I imagine if I worked there, I would have already gained fifty pounds putting down the waffles and the hash browns.
She lit up a cigarette without asking me but that didn't bother me at all. I didn't mind getting a little secondary smoke once and a while after having quit cold turkey almost twenty years ago. I opened the driver side window without saying anything and she frowned at me like I was disturbing the peace. I figured it must be getting tough for smokers nowadays with all the new rules and regulations which made it easier to light up some weed instead of a Marlboro Light.
The sound she made when the first puff of smoke emitted from her unadorned lips was a cross between a sigh and an automatic being cocked under duress. There was frustration and satisfaction all wrapped up together like a Christmas present under the tree on a snowy Christmas eve. Then she grinned like a Cheshire cat and threw her ankles up on the dashboard letting her uniform scoot back and giving me a gratuitous shot of her knees. They were the sort of knees that should have been walking down a runway instead of slinging hash in an all-night diner.
It made me sort of curious about what other secrets were hidden under that innocuous uniform with the ketchup right over her pussy mound. When I saw Leanne start to play with the loose strands of her dirty blond hair I figured right away that she was interested in a lot more than just jumping into the sack to go to sleep. We pulled over at the crossroads where the cutoff turned into her trailer park and she turned sideways facing me with her feet resting right in my lap nudging my big boy with playful enthusiasm. Either the thought of available cock or the two cigarettes she had sucked down with fateful abandon had invigorated her libido or she was putting on a hell of a tease for an almost stranger.
"My boyfriend Jackie is probably sound asleep so there is no point in rushing home to the asshole."
It didn't sound to me like Leanne and Jackie was in danger of being accused of being a pair of love bugs and I wondered how long that would last. Her uniform was hanging down now because her knees were raised and I could see all the way up to her panties which were decorated with the silly smiley faces of yellow on a black background. Yellow and black was a very arousing color combination for me ever since I had screwed Gloria Winters up in Maryland on a Preakness Race weekend that contributed to a "Triple Crown Winner".
All I could think of was getting those panties for a keepsake after I gave Leanne a nice nighty-night fucking on the soft leather seat.
I entered Leanne's mouth with my tongue just seconds before my dick said hello to her pussy and she hung onto me for dear life because I was sort of enthused what with the panties and the fact I hadn't been laid for almost a week and that was a record for me that I sure didn't want to repeat. It was one of those slam bang thank you ma'am screws that drained you of all your juices and left you with a sense of wondering what came next.
We shared one of Leanne's cigarettes and it calmed me down to the point that could drink in the sight of her pretty boobs standing up perky and erect for a dame in her mid-thirties and still tight as a drum.
When she asked me,
"What the hell are you doing down on the Bayou at this time of the year?"
I understood exactly what she meant because it was out of season for hunting or fishing and there was not much else to do there except if it was illegal or depraved.
In all honesty, I had no specific answer I could give her because the client's business was confidential and I could not for the life of me think up some cock and bull story to cover my investigation to find a missing girl. I changed the subject by pushing her head down to my lap and she got interested in licking me up into a hard enough cock-stand to move to round number two.
This time we went a lot slower and it was a lot better for her because she was the type of female that seemed to generate lasting orgasms that simmered when we weren't moving and exploded when we started up again. I allowed my fingers to get busy with her rump and was delighted when she didn't object or push my hand away. I could tell right away she was an anal broad ready to take it up the Hershey highway on the spur of the moment without any complaint or reticence about it "not being nice".
I wondered if old Jackie was tapping that ass in addition to her pussy but even if he was, it didn't seem like she was with the program so I was certain that was a failed relationship and one that she was ready to shit-can at any moment. I even toyed with the idea she might want to move up to Mobile because there were a lot of Waffle Houses up there to keep her busy when we weren't busting moves on the four poster bed.
Leanne didn't want me to go any further down the road to the trailer park and I figured she didn't want any curious neighbors getting in on her business. I could easily respect that sort of caution. She gave me her number and I planned to call her for a repeat performance right after the business arrangements were made and I could get hot on finding the girl that the bayou people were hot to find.
The sun was up now and the heat would start building until it reached that point where all outside activity slowed down almost to a standstill and people started looked for air conditioning to make it through the remainder of the day.
It looked to be a hot day on the bayou.