Chapter 13

I had no clue or intimation that Friday morning would start off the entire worst weekend of my entire life! I woke up with three lovely beautiful women in my bed as Anne-Marie's two kids were shouting into our bedroom that their mom was going to be late to work unless she busted her ass and got herself going! Since none of my women knew how to close a bedroom door for privacy, her children had probably gotten an especially graphic look at me busting (or at least fucking) their mom's ass while she was on all fours eating Amy's cunt, as Kathy was underneath eating hers and licking my balls.

The sight of three naked women then dashing about in a panic getting dressed and grabbing something for breakfast before heading to work was also probably rather educational for a pair of teenaged kids but they seemed to be accepting the peculiarity of the situation rather well. I'm not sure how nudist or naturalist families do things, or how the kids adapt and begin to think of naked bodies in non-sexual ways, but since none of my three lovers tended to wear much for clothing in the house, I supposed we were all soon going to find out. If Anne-Marie and her two children were going to move into the completed house with us starting today – and this was something that hadn't been officially established as far as I was concerned, or at least that decision hadn't been made or confirmed by me!

"There is a private party tonight, so we'll all be home late." Amy quietly announced as she firmly hugged me and nibbled my right earlobe into submission. "There's another one Saturday night, but I've already told them 'No' for that one."

"But you need to do tonight's?" It wasn't really a question. Amy just sadly nodded and hugged me even harder.

"Here is the money for the building inspector and the trucker payment too." She said pulling out a large envelope of cash from her oversized handbag. "After tonight, we'll have the rest of Jason's money, and then a bit to live on for awhile, even if I only dance one or two nights a week from now on."

"No more private parties." That wasn't a question either.

"No my love, hopefully never again!" Standing upon her tiptoes she kissed me goodbye and scampered off quickly so that I couldn't see the tears building in the corners of her eyes. She must have hated doing what she was doing, but her love for me wouldn't allow her to act otherwise, but perhaps now the end of this awful period of our lives was nearing an end.

Just one minor miracle at a time please!

It was after the women had left for work and I was left holding the envelope with $25,000 cash that I started to once again feel the world collapse upon me like the weight of a dark star, with dense darkness devouring all of the light and happiness around me. I knew exactly how Amy, Kathy and Anne-Marie had earned that money, and what they had done to make this remarkable sum in less than two weeks and holding this cash in my hands just made me feel like a pimp, selling off the women I loved for cash. I wanted to burn the money, but it was needed today to bribe a crooked housing instructor instead and the rest to pay a nearly equally crooked pair of truckers. Evil money going towards more necessary evil. What good could possibly come from it?

Once again I was certain that I was unworthy of the love of the three women who had each decided to share my life for reasons that completely escaped me. I wanted nothing more but to sell the house or even just abandon it, to pack up the truck and just drive off, before I could ruin their lives forever.

Even paying off the smirking crooked inspector his ten grand bribe and getting our final approval permit to occupy the house didn't relieve much if any of the gloom I was feeling. Paying off the cash that my lovers had stripped and sucked and fucked for to give to this goddamn weasel just gnawed at last bit of self-respect that I had left! I wanted to shoot the bastard right then and there, empty a whole fucking magazine into him, reload and then put one into my own stupid head for getting my beautiful lovely women into the cesspool their lives now were!

I so wanted to do it ... but that would be much too selfish. I owed my lovers more than I could ever hope to repay ... but I would try, even if it took me until the end of my life!

My house was done! Restored and the repairs legally approved for occupancy, all ready to now move in. I ought to have been ecstatic! This was the moment that we'd been living for, for months of hassles, horrific debt, and not to mention mental wear and tear upon several of my best friends, particularly Garry who had selflessly shared his house with us to the extent that we'd virtually taken it over as if it were our own!

Now, all of our stuff could move from his spare bedroom and garage and into our own home. We wouldn't have much furniture, but at least we'd all now be on our own. Things had to start getting better! But why didn't I feel this relief?

I could just feel trouble surrounding me on all sides, and even as I started to move our king sized bed frame over into our new upstairs third floor master bedroom, the tightness in my chest only increased and the sense of foreboding stayed with me for the entire day!

The truckers, the three independent brothers in their two semi's, arrived late in the afternoon and with belligerent bad attitudes. Yeah, the fuckers wanted their little extra bonus or my two remaining containers full of mom's zombie disaster prep crap were going elsewhere. Typical. They were big guys, about my size, but my friends had them outnumbered, and Garry's collection of day shift cops in uniforms did make the assholes think twice about a more violent standoff. Young Gabe also stood right behind me with a long belt knife very prominently displayed in his belt and he looked every bit the gangbanger. The brothers saw sense and took the promised envelope of 15 thousand in cash, and an extra bonus of a six-pack of cold beer. It was the best offer that they were going to get and they had enough good judgment to realize it. They dropped the two containers off right in the middle of my driveway and drove off. Gas and diesel prices were now just about where they were before the brief Saudi-Iran War started, and they admitted (grudgingly) that they'd had no trouble filling up for the entire route along I-10. More proof that bastards get all of the good luck in life!

With another financial burden relieved, and the very last of our clothing and boxes moved into our new permanent home, I ought to have been elated ... but the relief just wouldn't come. I didn't want to fix our first meal alone in the new house so I drove down to the local Jack in the Box and bought dinner substitute there at the drive-through. Waiting to pick up my order, I nearly had the shock of my life when I was virtually 99.9% certain that I saw my old nemesis, the gang leader Darren Hall right across the street getting something at the opposite McDonalds restaurant. Well, there is no accounting for taste!

I crouched down lower in the truck but I'm pretty sure that he didn't even look over once my way. He was walking back to his own car, a big black SUV and he promptly drove off. He looked like he was heading towards I-35, or perhaps towards the dumpy apartments nearby, but his SUV was gone, out of sight before my order was delivered and I could drive off to follow. The fact that the Houston gang boss was back in Austin (or near enough) was bad news. Just about the worse possible news in fact. I hadn't put the house up for sale yet, so he couldn't be here for that, so that left only less savory alternatives.

Returning home, I surprised to find another contractor waiting for me at the house, ready to make a delivery and even perform the installation. The company name on the van said it all, 'Stagez'. Fuck, how was I supposed to pay for this? I only had about twelve dollars left my pocket from the Alabama trip and all of the stripping and party money had gone to pay off worthless assholes who all needed bullets, rather than their hard earned cash!

"Already paid for in full, including the installation. The buyers name is listed as Amy Hsia-Jones and this is her right address, right?" The driver stated as I mumbled something to them about not having made the order. I confirmed that this was Amy's house (hell, it was more her house morally now than it was mine!) and he and his partner began to unload a lot of equipment and materials and they began to assemble in the front living room of our house a rather complex dancing stage. It was big, professional and it had everything a dancer could ever want, complete with multiple lights and table mounted control console for controlling the lights and even music, not to mention an extremely tall and exceptionally sturdy brass stripper dance pole that was securely bolted to the under floor of the room and then the high ceiling of the second floor. This was professional quality stuff, the same grade used in most gentlemen's clubs and the installers knew exactly what they were doing and had the work completed in about two hours. The pole was mounted so securely that I couldn't feel even the slightest wobble when I grabbed a hold of it and took a token clumsy swing around it myself to test its sturdiness. It was mounted to last and there was enough play and swinging room for even Amy to indulge in her wildest acrobatics without worry about hitting anything, like kicking Garry's big screen TV when she used his pole a bit too wildly.

This was an unexpected addition to the house from the girls, but I was sure that they were planning for a great many happy hours of home entertainment in our own private club! That couldn't help but to brighten up my mood, just a little bit!

That Friday evening I was able to make it to the gun club meeting for the first time in about a month and it felt almost comforting to know that now I had some more friends willing to keep watching my back. Mark knew the whole story about Darren Hall and his homicidal partner Lupe, and treated my probable sighting of the gangsters with the seriousness it deserved. We also notified our neighborhood watch team on duty for tonight and asked (very politely) if they could keep an especially close watch on our area tonight, and they agreed. I was scheduled for another early morning shift on Sunday, so between the entire watch it seemed like we had the weekend nicely covered, and everyone warned about potential trouble!

My attorney friend, Jefferson Howe, had also recently joined our gun club, the better to meet with witnesses and residents willing and ready to be added to his lawsuit against the HOA, of which he had some surprising recent news.

"Gone, the lot of them!" He laughed. I filed a discovery motion with my old pal your local JP Henricksen and they ignored it, just like I figured they would. I then cited contempt of court and he gave me a court order to go in and seize all of their financial records. Which was what we'd really wanted all along! So we arrived there this Tuesday morning and found the HOA office all padlocked up. We cut the lock and found the office stripped to the walls. Literally, it was bare to the fucking walls! Out in back we found a 55-gallon steel drum with a lot of ashes inside, suggesting that everything they didn't take they then burned. No computers, no files of any kind, not even any desks or filing cabinets left! Officially, Lilia and her husband the Village Mayor are off on summer vacation, on a two week cruise or something and completely out of contact. No cell phones on their vacation, supposedly. Henricksen has filed a flight warrant on the both of them, but unofficially between you me and those paper targets downrange, they've already also stripped every single Ranger Heights Village account bare and they've skipped for good. This is major fraud territory, and the Sheriff's investigators are now handling the case. I don't think anyone will find the money, or even how much there ever was, and now I've got no one left to sue! Shit! I've filed a lien against their house, for all of the good that's worth. Housing values are still shit and if the Sheriff's office finds any more victims of fraud involved, then those creditors will have a stake in that last remaining physical asset too. If you take over the HOA, then fuck I'll probably now have to sue you, because you'll be the one holding the empty bag! So don't! Want to be the Village Mayor instead? It seems that the position is abandoned and vacant!"

"Why the hell not! I guess the smart thing to do would be to decertify the entire HOA and give whatever powers they usurped over the years back to the mayor's office. Heck it's not like we need a whole lot of administration or over-zealous reasons to keep fining residents and collecting crazy annual user fees. I guess the village treasury has been looted empty too? Is the county Sheriff handling that investigation now too? I can't see lazy old Max Crosslin finding even his own backside without outside help!"

"Yep, the village accounts all seem to be cleaned out too, and yeah county is handling the investigation. Their inquiry is going to take a few months probably, and the results are very likely going to be so ugly that no one with any sense would want the job, so I'll get the pump primed to get you into the new mayor's seat as soon as possible. I'll find whatever paperwork needs filing and get it ready for you to sign. Then I'll have Henricksen order a special village election for early November, will that be soon enough? Fast enough to get our paws in with something of a plan, but too quick for any of the old guard to get organized enough to take on your band of Young Turks. I assume your first official act will be to fire the current police chief Max and appoint your friend Garry?"

"That's a no-brainer! The very first thing after I take the oath of office and they hand me a pen and something to write upon! The other deputy chief Bernie's a bad egg too and probably has been enabling the old regime so the sooner we clean house, and thoroughly, the better things will be in the long term. Sorry about losing your new boat."

"It happens. Besides, unless I can snag the title to that abandoned house ... hell, it's damn near a bloody mansion, then I'll have to bill the village for a lot of billable hours spent upon this case. However, I'm sure my friend the new mayor will approve all of the necessary expenses, once there is something in the treasury again!"

Unfortunately so, but that was just part of the cost of sweeping out all of the bad rubbish so we could start over new and hopefully better this time around.

Being home all alone in the new house was just too depressing, so I killed time most of the evening over at Garry's and we watched a pair of Friday night college football games on cable with increasing disinterest. Garry was happy to get his entire house back (and some privacy) again, especially since Teresa would be moving in all of her things starting tomorrow. She was about ten years older than he was, but they made for a decent couple and the current arrangement was convenient for both of them. Teresa had just had her slutty young and equally blonde daughter move out away from home to live with her boyfriend, the county neighborhood watch boss and my friend Mark Ingram, and they needed the extra space. Garry wasn't in love, he just liked to get regularly fucked and having someone living with him to do the laundry was also an added bonus. Teresa had her own motives, namely getting laid herself and not having to live alone now that her daughter had moved out.

I got the unspoken impression that if a younger (and willing) woman came along into his life that some sort of sharing agreement had already been negotiated between them. Good for him, I supposed. Having multiple lovers is very sexually rewarding, but it can also be mentally exhausting treating all of the women with equal attention and affection. I was still worried that eventually my own women would start choosing sides and that two of them would pair up against the third, creating unrest and rivalry ... and feminine drama that I wanted to avoid at all costs. I hadn't seen any signs of it yet, but with three women sharing one man, I was very afraid that this might eventually occur.

Kathy was after all rather mentally unstable and prone to breakdowns under stressful situations, and the last month of dancing and whoring to pay our bills couldn't have been easy for her. Trixie the Slut seemed to be poised for a major breakout but somehow Kathy was keeping her irresponsible alter-ego under control. I had to think that this was solely due to Amy's gentle and patient understanding and constant moral support, but our own lovely Asian lover had insecurities and significant emotional needs of her own. It had been her decision to share her physical body with strangers to fulfill our overwhelming financial needs but I was terrified at what the psychological cost to her might be. She was already the most emotionally needy of my lovers and it had been clear this morning that she hadn't wanted to leave my side at all, for any reason, pressing financial requirements or not!

Anne-Marie was the wild card, and I barely knew her yet even as sexually, or emotionally as a person, let alone a partner. She too seemed to have her own demons, mostly of sexual repression now utterly released as she'd become a complete libertine, sharing both the lover of a man and home, and whoring her body right by Kathy's side, and determined to enjoy every pleasure and debauchment available to her! Was it all still a game to her, living an internet porn fantasy and attempting to outdo even the antics of Trixie the Slut? This couldn't help Kathy's limited self-control, seeing her friend suck and fuck without the slightest apparent care in the world! Still she had enough personal regard and commitment to me to give over the entirety of her club earnings for our needs, holding back nothing for herself. She made a good salary, I assumed, as a licensed pharmacist, but raising two teenaged children alone had to be a financial strain. She was willing to commit to our relation enough to explain the rather peculiar sleeping arrangements to her children and she had even prepared them to accept me as their acting step-father. This did suggest a deeper emotional commitment than I had perceived, but then again these days my head was still pretty much up my ass.

I didn't deserve the love of any of them, let alone all of them, but it was past time that their physical lovemaking was reserved for us and us alone.

Before returning home around midnight to my dark empty house, I did clarify with Garry that he/they still had freedom of use rights with Trixie the Slut. He hadn't bagged either Amy or Anne-Marie yet, but they'd been ogled naked often enough and we'd certainly watched each other's sexual activities just about daily. With Lumpy and Ella driving up to visit us for the holiday weekend, I was sure that the sleeping arrangements were going to get a bit more complicated, assuming an outright orgy didn't occur!

I still wanted to keep Amy all to myself, but since Anne and I hadn't discussed anything formally concerning our relationship, or even future sleeping arrangements, then she was still technically a free agent and could fuck whomever she chose as far as I was concerned.

This was the first night that I'd been home all evening alone waiting for them to return from the club since they started to work parties at the club's private VIP room, and more significantly, an evening spent being whores, serving the sexual needs of strangers and I wasn't really sure how I would really react to greeting my lovers returning home with cunts recently well-used by other men. Hopefully with condoms, but probably not. Men that rich and powerful usually made their own rules and conditions. I certainly had zero grounds for any complaint or rapprochement; they were doing this for me, because I couldn't provide for my lovers what was needed to keep this roof over our heads.

I brooded upon this for several more hours, becoming more miserable, dejected and depressed by the moment. I was nothing tonight but a pimp waiting for my brood of whores to return to me with their earnings. Sure they were upscale dancers, working the most prestigious gentlemen's entertainment club in the city, displaying themselves for the most well-heeled clients and VIPs, and serving their needs upstairs in the exclusive private club. Any one of those men could provide my lovers anything and everything that I could not! Bank loads of cash, flashy cars, expansive mansions, designer gowns and all the bling to go with them. How could they prefer me over those more successful men, the elite of the capitol? Why were they debasing themselves nightly just to support me? One of the biggest losers that any woman could find?