Four Corners
Copyright© 2023 by Jake Prescott
Chapter 18
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 18 - Four Corners, in the middle of central Iowa, was a world unto itself. Truck stop and diner. An unincorporated village of 800. Over 12,000 acres of prime farmland. A destination restaurant - Chez Claire. A strip club, Pink Pussy, with private trailers in back. All owned and managed by a 52-year-old woman named Claire Stillman, and her two children - Willow and Luke. Paid sex has always drawn organized crime and invited betrayal. Claire was seasoned, tough, and strong-willed. Would that be enough?
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Teenagers Coercion Consensual Reluctant Lesbian BiSexual Heterosexual Fiction Incest Mother Son Daughter Bestiality Masturbation
Martin used two of his regular guards to drive the SUV to the private airport. Security video would show the car arriving, then leaving five minutes later. A third guard would follow to bring the team back home.
When Mateo didn’t show up, Delgado would track the vehicle to Four Corners and away. What he would believe had happened, how he would react — all of that was unknown.
Claire, Willow, and Luke drove directly to the stockade. The driver had been secured somewhere else; Mateo was the only occupant.
He stood up from the cot and whistled, “Hey, I liked you as a blonde, but this is better, more natural. You going to a lot of trouble, make my dreams come true, Claire.”
She had to smile; still a smartass even in these circumstances. She gazed at him for several moments, and was surprised to feel a twinge of regret at his fate. No matter how deadly, he was still so young. Then she turned without a word and led Willow and Luke out. They’d seen what they had come to see.
It was three hours before Delgado called. “Claire, Claire, Claire.”
“When do I get my delivery?”
“Claire, this is unlike you. Very unbusinesslike.”
They danced back and forth, Delgado accusing, Claire denying.
“Look, Señor Delgado, Mateo came, we paid, he left. Want me to send you the security footage?”
A long silence. “What did he say, Claire?”’
“You actually think I paid him myself? Dream on.”
Back and forth, back and forth.
“Delgado, I paid for five coños, and I want them. When will I get them?”
He sang, in a surprisingly good Johnny Mathis imitation, “Until the twelfth of never and that’s a long, long time.”
Click.
Claire sighed, “He’s crazy.”
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