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Outpost (R. Richard)

Outpost by R. Richard

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The company is nicknamed Political People.
The company is now in desperate financial straits. Their only hope is to sell the military base at Outpost a big new contract.
The effort fails and now the wives of the managers have to sell the only thing left with any value.
Things rapidly descend into sexual chaos.

Product type: EBook    Published by: author - self-published    Published: 9 / 2015

No. words: 14968

Style: General Erotica, Cowboys/Western Erotica

Available Formats: Palm  MobiPocket (MOBI)  EPUB  Sony Reader (LRF)  PDF  MS Reader  This book has a format which can be downloaded to Kindle


Thursday night we climb aboard the bus and head back to Outpost. The mood aboard the bus is like that of people who are going to a funeral and the people have just discovered that it's going to be their own funeral.
I sit with Jan and Jewel and they observe the byplay between the PP executives and their wives.
Alicia is Alvin's wife. She's one hot looking babe and, at least according to Jan and Jewel, was attracted to Alvin because she was looking for a husband with money, the more money the better. Apparently Alicia has begun to suspect that all isn't well with Alvin's company and she's questioning Alvin about something. Alicia obviously doesn't like the answers she's getting from Alvin and the situation appears headed toward a major husband wife fight.
Calvin and Bonnie are seated just behind Alvin and Alicia and Bonnie has apparently started to ask Calvin some questions, perhaps the same type of questions that Alicia is asking Alvin. In any case, things aren't going well.
Van and Nanci are also having some sort of discussion. From the body language, it's clear that Van is claiming ignorance of the cause of the brewing fights.
I then think to ask Jan and Jewel, “Do Alvin and Calvin know just how bad the financial situation at PP really is?”
Jewel sighs and says, “Alvin won't give us all of the financial data anymore and he has to know. Alvin and Calvin meet frequently, in closed door meetings, and discuss whatever they discuss. When Calvin leaves one of those closed door meetings, you don't want to talk to him if you can possibly avoid it. It's not official, but yes, they know.”
I then say, “Both Alicia and Bonnie are what you might call trophy wives. Do you think that they'll stay with Alvin and Calvin if the company goes bankrupt?”
Jan says, “I don't think that Alicia is emotionally attached to Alvin. However, I have detected a strong attachment to the kind of money that Alvin once had.”
“Then Alicia might walk out on a bankrupt Alvin?”
Jewel asks, “Where would she find another sugar daddy? If she can find a guy with more money than Alvin, she'll be gone like a shot. However, what with the financial situation back in the city, it's unlikely that she could snag anyone who'll have better current prospects than Alvin.”
“Bonnie seems to be having a rather nasty discussion with Calvin. What do you think about Bonnie?”
Jan says, “The word among the PP ladies is that Bonnie was a call girl. She was hired to entertain some PP customers and somehow wound up snagging Calvin.”
Jewel then says, “Then there's Nanci. Nanci doesn't need money, at least not anymore then you and I need air to breath. Nanci shops only at the most exclusive ladies shops. She has the labels in her coats sewn in upside down.”
I, in all ignorance, ask, “So what? Why would she do that?”
Jewel says, “When a lady goes to the thee-ah-tour (said just that way, with heavy sarcasm,) she throws the back of her coat over the back of her seat.” She then looks at me questioningly.
I smile and say the obvious, “And there it is, the fancy label in the face of the lady sitting behind her. La di da!”
Jewel says, “La di da indeed. Did you happen to notice my, ahem, genuine imported Chinese silk blouse?” Jewel makes a little posing move, nailing the, 'You are inferior, girl' tone perfectly. (Jewel isn't wearing a silk blouse.)
“If PP is actually bankrupt, then none of the big PP executives likely have any money at all.”
Jan smirks and says, “Well, Bonnie could always go back to work at what she did before and make money that way!”
Just as we roll into Outpost, the bus craps out. The driver does managed to roll the inoperative bus into the parking lot of the only decent motel in Outpost.
Jan and Jewel look at me as the bus rolls to a stop. Jewel asks me, “Would you be willing to give two friendly ladies a lift home if the bus problem turns out to be really bad?”
I reassure them, “Of course. You took care of me with the pay and per diem business, I'll be happy to return the favor.”
I then get sufficient information from the ladies to identify their luggage and make a deal to take the accounting ladies back to the city.
The ladies and I then talk to the bus driver about the matter of the ladies' luggage.
The bus driver agrees to let me have the luggage and then tells us, “I'll have to check things, but the last time I heard a sound like I just heard, it was the transmission going out for good. If it's the transmission, it'll be maybe a week to get and install a new unit.”
Jan, Jewel and I share a look like maybe what the Titanic passengers did just before the stampede for the lifeboats.
The crummy little Outpost motel into which I was forced by economic circumstances is just across the road from the bus. It's now bail out time. I hop off the bus and go over and get my car and my luggage. It has begun to snow heavily. I fear the worst and take the car over to the big service station across the street and make a deal with the manager to service my car for my trip back to Big City. Of course my trip will also take the accounting ladies and their luggage back to Big City. A $20 tip to the service station makes sure that my grungy station wagon will not only be serviced, but also parked where I can get out to the main highway once the snow plows have done their work. (A $20 tip might get only a curled lip in a fancy, schmancy Big City restaurant, but I can see by the face of the service station guy that it's big money, out here in Outpost.) I then get the accounting ladies' luggage out of the bus and into my car. (The bus driver is so angry that he just ignores me and I don't have to tip him. A penny saved is a penny earned.)
There's to be a company 'victory party' at the Silver Dollar Saloon next to the good motel and also near to the service station. What in the hell we're celebrating I haven't the tiniest idea. There's not a ghost of a chance we have won anything. However, there will be food and shelter from the snow inside the Silver Dollar.
With the car and luggage situation settled, I walk over to the Silver Dollar and I'm damn near run over by a very angry Alicia, the CEO's wife, as I walk in the door. Alicia is followed out of the ladies room by my two accounting lady pals.
The accounting ladies and I then go and sit over in the far corner of the room. From a more or less safe distance, we watch Alicia confront Alvin. The exchange is short, load and nasty.
The accounting ladies have told me that PP is bankrupt. More important, the accounting ladies have just found out, from Alicia, that Alvin is also personally bankrupt. The final hope for Alvin and the company had been the three contract presentations that were to have brought in new money and it's now obvious that the presentations have failed miserably.
The accounting ladies have also found out that, since the Silver Dollar has already accepted the PP credit card, they'll serve us dinner, however, no drinks. The Silver Dollar Manager lady has told the two accounting ladies that the credit card company will cover a bad debt for supper, but not for booze.
I look around the place and discover that tonight's crowd at the Silver Dollar consists mainly of me and the accounting ladies, the rest of the PP people and some cowboys who have just finished some sort of wild rodeo in a nearby arena and they're gonna howl tonight!
The three of us finish our supper and we would have left, except that the snow plows haven't yet cleared the way out to the highway and there's no place else to go. The Silver Dollar people clear the table and we ask for a round of drinks that we'll pay for out of our own pockets.
Our waitress finally arrives. It turns out that the girl is dressed in just a Western hat, garter belt, fancy lace top nylons and very fancy stiletto heels. Her name is Alicia. Yes, she's that Alicia, Alvin's wife. Since Alicia has been trained in the procedure by the cowboys she's just served, I let Alicia pick up my tip from my hand with her pussy lips!
The two accounting ladies are speechless at the sight of Alicia, the CEO's wife, picking up a tip with her pussy lips.
I tell them, in exaggerated man of the world style, "All in all, Alicia had good labia, not the best I have ever felt in the Silver Dollar, but good labia."
The ladies scrape their jaws off of the table and gape at me.
I lecture them, “You need to wait and watch, the best is yet to come.”
Jan asks me, “Do the waitresses here, ...?”
“The waitresses in the Silver Dollar also dance. If the customers want a more personal experience than dancing, the waitresses also do that sort of thing in the back room, for a fee.”
Jewel says, with heavy sarcasm, “How awful for a stuck up bitch like Alicia to have to work as a Silver Dollar waitress, dancer and whore. However, picking up tips will get her pussy warmed up for her later work!”
After Alicia finishes serving her tables and picking up tips with her pussy lips, it's time for her to dance.


Great story with a very slow start but necessary to build the sense of revenge at the end. The story teller doesn't do revenge or anything else but he watches the unfolding of degradation on his tormentors. The nudie bar scenes are great. 5 out of 5 (qubert)

Author Information

I spent my early years in the part of Los Angeles known as the South Central. I was known as Whi' Boy, which was sufficient to identify me in that place. I'm a skilled kung-fu player, using a system that I learned from a Korean I knew only as 'Pak.' It would be easier to tell you the places that Pak wasn't wanted by the police, rather than the places where he was wanted by the police. Pak's kung-fu system, augmented by some bits and pieces from some Chinese practitioners is quick and effective, or I wouldn't be alive today. My early education was mostly obtained by stealing books from the public library [I always returned them and the Librarian even began to provide me with reading lists.] I did go to high schools, but I never really learned anything there. I eventually graduated from the University of California at Los Angeles, UCLA, with a degree in mathematics.

I write science fiction and erotica.


Publisher Information

This story has been self-published by the author

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