Multiple Units #102

Tim released her hips and grabbed her small breasts in his large hands. Pam let out another squeal as Tim cruelly pinched her nipples.

"I, oh Jesus God, God damn, oh, oh!" Pam screamed in orgasm.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck," Tim chanted as his sperm bubbled up, then squirted deep into her bowels.

"I don't want to do that," Leah again affirmed as Tim pulled his slimy cock from Pam's bowels.

"Ack! I, ack, oh Jesus," Pam grunted as Tim's cock slipped completely out of her raw guts.

Tim ducked into his bathroom and twisted on the shower tap. He grimaced in disgust as he cleaned his soiled cock. Anal sex was very pleasurable, but it was also very messy.

Exiting from his bathroom, Tim saw that his two guests did not seem to realize that the fun was over. Neither girl seemed to realize that it was time to go.

"I uh, hey, I hate to be a dick about it, but mm, I got a shit load of paperwork I need to get done here," Tim lied.

"Huh?" Leah asked, sitting up.

"Yeah, I mean, when your business partner kills himself, the God damned government wants to know all about it," Tim warmed up to his lie. "And, if you're three days late? There's a huge ass penalty with it."

"I, uh, oh, okay," Pam said, voice hoarse.

The two girls dressed in their bikinis again. Tim pulled on a pair of micro-briefs and stared at the two girls as they just stood, looking at him.

"What? Waiting for me to tell you I love you or something? God damned stupid little bitches, just fucking go," Tim wanted to scream.

"Well, I uh, I guess we, we'll see you later," Pam finally said.

"Yeah, this, this was, y'all were, y'all were great," Tim said.

"Yeah, I uh, see you," Leah said as the two girls wandered toward the front door of the apartment.

At the door, Tim gave each girl a soft kiss and affectionate hug. Then he opened the door and the two girls stepped out of his apartment.

"Jesus Christ, bitches be clingy, huh Bobby?" Tim muttered.

"You, my man, are a grade-A dick," Tim said, fixing himself a stiff drink.

*.*.*

Two weeks after the funeral, Tim sold the business, 'Short Moves' to two of his employees. Without Bobby there, what had been fun was now just a job. And Tim wondered how much longer he could stand and be polite to a demanding, petulant customer before he snapped and pounded the little fucker into the ground. He'd come damned close on a few occasions.

Tim hired Short Moves to put his furniture into a storage unit, cleaned his apartment and dropped the keys into the mail slot of the manager's office. Then he drove to Oxmore, North Dakota and signed on with an oil company drilling in the North Dakota field. He was sure, when winter came, he would move on, but for now, he was enjoying the hard physical labor.

Maybe in time, he'd forget about Bobby, forget his guilt over not being able to prevent his friend's suicide.

While Tim was sweating in North Dakota, Pam was sweating in the small apartment she and Leah were sharing. Leah was in the bathroom, getting ready to leave for work; Pam was off today.

"I'm late. Oh God, I'm, I can't be, oh God, please, I can't be fucking knocked up," Pam prayed feverishly.

"Okay, bathroom's all yours. See you," Leah said, leaving the bathroom.

"I uh, hey, uh Leah, you, you wouldn't..." Pam started, then faltered, terrified to give voice to her fears.

""Yeah, yeah, I know, get you a Big Bayou lottery ticket on my way home," Leah said cheerfully.

Leah kissed Pam quickly on her lips and left the apartment.

The last one had paid five hundred dollars; they'd celebrated by making love. Then they used that money to pay the rent. And had enough left over to take themselves to Benito's Fine Italian restaurant.

"A good ravioli; that, that'll make you feel better," Pam thought, actually smiling.

Leah lost her easy smile the moment she closed the door of their apartment. Her period was three days late. Her period was never late. And, her boss was making noises about cutting hours; they were approaching the slow season for movies and movie-goers.

"And that fucking Tim just up and moved out," Leah thought as she walked past Apartment #102.

The apartment manager claimed she had no information about the former tenant of Apartment 102. And, since neither Leah nor Pam could remember the handsome man's last name, they had no way of looking him up on the Internet.

"Guess I'm just fucked," Leah said, fighting against the angry tears that threatened to spill.

The End.

**..**..**

**Author's Notes: I write these stories for my pleasure; I post them here for your enjoyment. I thank you for reading my stories.

I especially thank those that take the time to leave comments, good and bad. I also thank those that take the time to rate my work, those that take the time to 'Favorite' my words.

Tim Douglas, as well as Bobby Marchon are characters introduced in 'Week of the Big Five-Oh!' in the Mature category.

The true victims of suicide aren't the deceased; the true victims are the survivors. Those family and friends that stand at the gravesite wondering what they could have, or should have done differently. Those feelings of failure linger on for many years.

Have a swell day. And some of you, have a swollen day.