Chapter 15

Saturday, Aug 25, 8:34 pm

Throwing a bar rag over her shoulder, Karen turned with a smile from the customer who had just complimented her. Shorter than she, the odd little personality he exhibited was cute. Plus it looked like he came from money...

It was a busy night, as they had been for the last two nights since Sarah pulled a no-show. Skinny-ass bitch, she better not get her last paycheck. They had been fucked the last two nights; with business as usual or better and short one bartender. Karen had to get behind the bar a couple of times herself (which she inwardly loved). The only thing good out of that mess is how the goof, Tom, was quiet lately. Obviously has a thing for toothpicks.

As she moved through the crowd, she spotted Bill Partridge entering the bar. He had an ugly scowl on at the moment as he stalked across the room. She tried giving him a smile (a small part of her still believed he would actually leave his wife and kids and marry her) by moving in his way, hands on her hips.

Saucily, she said, "Where have you been?"

The look he gave her, his head slowly rising as he came to a stop should have scared her, would have scared most women who had a good grip on what was real. She was instead perplexed.

The moment stretched out. Then Bill grabbed her arm and tugged her along to his office. Stumbling a moment, Karen followed as she could, blushing hard, having a general (barely) idea of what he had in mind.

"That smells delicious," Bill said, standing near Sarah's left rear side as she stood over the stove.

Smiling, Sarah beamed. It did smell good; she had outdone herself.

Coming down the hall, Trisha was about to comment on the smell when she saw Bill and Sarah. She stopped.

Glancing over her shoulder, Sarah smiled at Bill. "Good thing you like, Italian, huh?"

"Love Italian. You any good with lasagna?"

Wrinkling her nose as she turned her attention back to the stove, Sarah said playfully, "Wait and see, Prof. Meanwhile, get some plates down from the cupboard" Make yourself useful as well as ornamental, she thought.

"Need a hand?", Trisha asked as she entered the kitchen.

"Uummmm ... drinks and silverware," Sarah answered, carrying the pot of pasta to the sink.

Trisha crossed the kitchen and reached up past Sarah to the cupboard, as the young woman poured the pan's contents into the colander in the sink. Grabbing three glasses, she smiled at Sarah as she drew them down. Sarah smiled back, as she turned the cold water on to rinse the pasta.

Entering his office, Bill shoved Karen in and shut the door. The music from the jukebox thumped into the room, the din of conversation in the bar mixing with it.

Karen turned, her large breasts still bouncing a bit under the blouse of her dress. "Bill, we're busy out there. This really isn't the-"

Bill's back hand caught her across the face.

Karen staggered, lower lip swelling already. Whirling her head back towards him, she glared with shock and anger.

Bill's other hand, balled in a big meaty fist, caught her hard in the stomach. Karen bent over, a loud wet 'whoosh' of air and spit expelling from her mouth. She felt like vomiting.

Grabbing a fistful of Karen's thick blonde hair, Bill bent her up and back, forcing her backwards over his desk. Once again things on the desk were sent flying as Karen began to struggle. The grip on her hair was strong, however, preventing her from going anywhere.

Bill's other hand shoved under the hem of her skirt, groping her cunt through her panties.

Breathlessly, Karen gasped out, "Bill! God, what the hell?! You don't have to ... fuck, I've never denied..." The rest was a loud his as Bill pushed past the leg of her panties and shoved three fingers into her dry cunt.

Punching his arm up and inwards, he drove another finger in, broken finger nail raking at her soft flesh, pushing, driving, feeling her cunt tearing in spots ... as he tried to shove his hand into her.

Karen twisted, turned, tried to escape the pain ripping through her body, her pendulous breasts shaking back and forth as she moved. God, but it hurt, more than anything she had ever experienced. She couldn't move far, his fist balled up in her hair.

A high pitched scream came when he curled his thumb in towards the palm of his hand ... and shoved. His fist shoved up into her cunt, stretching her, tearing her. She could actually feel ripping down there, and vomited a small spray into the air, feeling some of it rain back down on her face. His watch, god ... the rings on that hand, gouging, ripping.

Looking down at her, biting his lip with the intensity of the moment, Bill watched her expression and felt his cock throb.

And then he began to fuck her with his fist. The watch tore at her lips, her labia; the rings ripped the lining of her cunt. Blood flowed, as they both grunted with each thrust.

They settled in the living room; Bill in his chair, Sarah and Trisha on the couch. Trisha turned on the movie, seeing a smile on Bill's face as Jackie Brown started up on the DVD player.

Both Sarah and Trisha had their dinner on the coffee table before them. Bill, with apparent experience displayed, balanced his on his lap. The quirky movie soon had the three of them enthralled.

Bill tore away her panties, noting the droplets of blood on them. Karen's body shook with pain, though his fist was gone from her cunt. She was hurt down there, and didn't know how badly.

Looking at her panties, a slow smile crossed Bill's face. "You've bled for me, Karen." She moaned in response, being to weep. "Let's see if we can get some more."

He dropped the panties and reached for the fly of his pants.

Karen felt the motion of his hand lowering, and pistoned her right leg back, kicking out at him. Her foot caught him in the chest, making him stagger back, slamming against the door to his office. The framed pictures of him with his kids fishing, the family vacation to San Diego, bounce against the wall to either side of the door.

Pushing up onto her feet, swaying with nausea as she felt a warm sticky substance run down her inner thighs, Karen snatched a hold of the desk lamp near her hand. As she lifted it sharply to strike at her employer, Bill moved quickly forward, knocking the lamp out of her grasp. His other hand gripped her throat.

The lamp fell to the floor, casting large shadows in one half of the office but leaving the other half in near dark.

Turning while gripping Karen's gagging, gasping form, her nails raking his hands, he shoved her to the floor hard enough to stun her. Standing over her, panting, his cock as hard as it was when he raped Sarah, he looked down at Karen. She lay on her back, one knee up, the other akimbo. Her upper half of her body was in the dark; the lower half was revealed in the odd light from the lamp. The blood on her thighs looked almost black in this light.

He dropped to his knees, grabbing her ankles.

Trisha sighed as she shoved her near-empty plate back. The girl could cook. That spaghetti was better than any she had had at fine restaurants. She lit up a smoke, her attention briefly turned from the movie. Sarah sat to her right, now finished with her own dinner (barely had enough on her plate to call it a meal) and was watching the movie. Past her, Trisha could see Bill, still eating and watching the movie too.

She could sense what the two of them were going through. If she didn't know better, she'd say they had already fucked. The electricity between the two was so alive, one could feel it just being in the same room. She looked past Sarah, watching Bill twirl his spaghetti on his fork, expertly lifting it up to his mouth without spilling a drop. The man had eaten wayyyy too often in that chair. Smiling inwardly, she wondered once more what it was about the man that made her desire him so. She loved him, in her own way, but didn't believe the two of them could ever live together. He was too hard to put up with for too long. He knew it, and so did every woman he had ever tried living with.

Karen cried out as her employer and lover wrenched her legs wide apart, so far apart he almost twisted the legs from their sockets. Then he shoved up, and fell on her. She felt his cock probing, shoving, finally finding her bloodied cunt, and ramming deep inside her. Not as large as his fist, it still made her ache freshly, as he buried his cock in her with a grunt. Her knees, both in bad shape from her volleyball playing in highschool (one operation on the left, three operations in the right) were pressed hard against her breasts.

Barely able to see Karen's face in the shadow of the room, Bill fucked her hard and fast, pummeling her cunt. When she cried out in pain, he throbbed inside her. Her body shuddered both from the force of his fucking and her own uncontrollable weeping.

Hands gripping her tightly under her knees, he pressed down on them, driving the quivering legs against her body, using them as levers to fuck harder. His weight was massive on her, driving her breath out with each lunge.

His cock, sawing in and out of her torn, bloodied cunt, was so swollen, so thick. He fucked faster, his cum building quickly.

Karen could tell by his breathing that he was getting close to cumming, and she thanked God ... let it be over with, let him shoot his fucking load and get the fuck off of her, she had had it, there was no way she was putting up with this anymore, fuck the job, fuck him.

His lunges were harder, causing louder gasps of pain from the woman. Fingers sinking into her legs, he grunted a thick, wet grunt, and fired his cum up into her cunt. Karen could feel the thick tool pulse as it spat wetly into her pain filled sex.

Sarah was leaning to the side on the couch, her legs curled up and an arm under her head, resting on the arm of the couch. The movie was funnier than she thought it would be, and she liked how DeNiro played such an off beat character.