164 Egg Sandwich Hold the drama please.

When I got to the parking lot, about two hours later, Gwen hurried out after me.  “What the hell was that all about with the social worker?’ she asked.


“To be honest I’m not sure.  She may really be concerned about Cheryl, or she might just be trying to stake out her turf.  Either way, she and Cheryl need to decide what they want to do.” I said seriously.


“I know, we can’t have that woman making noises,” Gwen said.  “Maybe it’s time to cool it with Cheryl.”


“If I cooled it any more, there would be frostbite issues,” I said with a laugh.  “The problem is Cheryl want’s in on our little venture.  If it all goes south, we could all go down, not just me.  She might get her parole revoked,  That would be a terrible thing.  I don’t know, if I could live with myself, if that happened.” I said.


“You know, that might be what the social worker is counting on.  If it is purely personal, she might be playing you.” Gwen said.


“Yes, but can I take the chance?” I asked myself as much as I asked Gwen.


“I don’t know.  That is a decision only you can make.” she said.


“Right, well at the moment all I want is to go home and take a bath,” I said.  Gwen followed me home.  Since she pulled into the parking lot before I reached the entrance gate, I was sure that she made it safely home before I went inside my apartment.


Once inside I ran a tub of hot water.  I had discovered that the small plastic stool purchased at WalMart’s toy section made and excellent leg rest while in the tub.  I could manage to get all of me except the one leg in the bath water and soak the dirt off me.  That leg I had to carefully wash, but even so being up in the air made it much easier.


I had lost a good chunk of muscle from the calf and likely it would never be the same again.  I worked the muscle almost every minute of every day.  Mostly it was tensing and then relaxing the muscle, but I tried to stay at it until it became too painful.  With the lightweight aluminum cane and the constant exercise,I had come a long way, mobility wise, in a very short time.  So far though it was purely mind over matter.  The real muscle rebuild would take much longer.


Moving from the crutches to the cane had been more mental than physical.  I felt that the cane make me more mobile, so the cane in fact did make me more mobile. I was sure that there was no real physical improvement.


After the bath, I dried myself carefully, then sat on the toilet to replace the dressing.  I used a generous amount of Triple Antibiotic Cream on the wound.  The site of the incision was still red, but not inflamed looking.  That part of my calf muscle was not rounded like the other parts.  It was almost sunken.  I could imagine when the swelling went down it would no longer be flat it would be sunken for sure.


When I had the bandage taped into place, I slipped into my gray sweat shirt with the USAF logo on it and white cotton bikini panties.  Then went to checked my email.  I found an email from Lucas.  It contained the names and addresses of more people with whom I needed do follow ups.  I had one email from a person unknown.  I almost deleted it, but decided to check it out first.  Hell, I might have won some sweepstakes, I thought with a laugh.


‘Hello there, just a hi from the Irishman.’ The first line read.  I smiled even though I didn’t want to.  I have a present for you in the mail.  Enjoy and I’m keeping an eye on you.”


“I’m glad someone is,” I said to the empty room.  Well Gwen would be monitoring it or if not monitoring would be checking it in the morning.  I stayed up roaming around chat rooms, mostly ignoring the others.  I was waiting to see, if Cheryl would be storming into my place cursing me and Lindsay Graham.  Poor Cheryl, let her kill just two people and no one would ever let her forget it.  I had to laugh at that image.


At midnight I decided that Lindsay was going to let me tell Cheryl and suffer her wrath.  That being the case, I should at least get a good night’s sleep first.  I knew Gwen would either be watching or would view the tape in the morning, so I lay on top of the covers while I masturbated.  I pinched and pulled the nipples of my small but flabby boobs.  Then I let my hand slip to my clit.  I rubbed it in circles knowing that Gwen would be watching.  No I didn’t want to have sex with Gwen, I just wanted to torment her.


After several minutes I began to feel my muscles tighten involuntarily.  It seemed the right time to slip a finger inside my pussy.  Yes that’s how I thought of it at the time.  I worked my finger in and out as my hips rose and fell rhythmically.  My mind drifted to Martin, the Irishman, and the time he and kate had invaded my apartment.  It was nasty and magical, as I remembered it that night.  I felt the tension reach an unbearable level, then explode and it all drained away like water from a pulsating shower head.  Pulses of orgasm that seemed to go on and on for hours.  Of course it was only seconds but there were a lot of them.


After my muscles finally stopped their spasms, I hobbled and staggered to the bathroom.  I was shaking disoriented and the pain in my leg was becoming a nuisance.  I peed then took a long drink of tap water.  I did it just to get the stale taste from my mouth.  No it didn’t taste like cum, if it had, I would have begun looking for that shrink at preacher’s rehab clinic.  It just tasted like stale pizza and cheap beer.


When I awoke the next morning, I felt sore, but mentally clear.  Masturbation does that even better than most of the sex I have had.  If men or even women realized, they would probably spend more time playing and less time pumping.


I was more than a little concerned, when I went into Helen’s Sit Down.  Nobody in their right mind likes drama with their eggs.  Drama should not be allowed before noon.  I was right to have been concerned, there was Lindsay sitting at one of the common folks tables.  My guess was that parole officer’s didn’t consider themselves cops.  Like she had told me, in her eyes she was a social worker.


I debated the merits of just ignoring her, making her bring it to me.  Then I decided, hell no I didn’t run away from things.  I marched, okay hobbled, to the picnic table where she sat alone.  I was early enough so that most of the 8 AM shift workers were still on the job, and late enough so that the night shift hadn’t headed home yet.  There were a fair amount of people standing at the wall counter, recently installed by Jack and his buddies.  Why they chose to mill about rather and be seated I had no idea.


“So Ms Graham, what brings you out so early?” I asked.


“Why, I’m doing one of my on the job inspections. I make them now and then on a client.” she said.


“And how is your client doing,” I asked.


“Why don’t you tell me?” she asked.


“Why don’t I get breakfast, and I’ll ask her.  She seems to be interested in our conversation.  She doesn’t appear to be too awfully busy, should I ask her to join us?” I suggested.


“Do whatever you see fit,” she said.


“In that case let’s leave it to her,  I’ll be right back.”  I walked to the counter where Cheryl and a coworker were passing out the brown bags.


“Hey girl,” I said to her.


“How the hell do you know my PO?” she asked angrily.


“It looks like she came to the Cop Out last night to meet me or to look for you.  You want to come join us?” I asked.


“You are out of your mind,” she suggested.


“That is likely true,” I admitted.  “So I take it you are not interested in the morning’s drama.”


“No, and you shouldn’t be either,” she demanded.


“You know that running from these things just adds to the eventual energy expended.  In other words nip them in the bud, or they can be explosive.  This needs to get settled and it will be, with or without your input,” I said forcefully.  If I had to put up with her crap, she could join in or live with what Lindsay and I decided.


She shook her head, so I just paid for my bacon egg and cheese waffle sandwich bag.  Then I tottered back to Lindsay, while carrying it and a cup of coffee.  “So it looks as though we will be eating alone.” I said.


“Too bad, it might have been a more revealing discussion with Cheryl,” she said.


“Yes indeed it probably would have been that.  So what is your position at this moment?” I asked.


“The same as last night.  You are a danger to her continuing growth and freedom,” she explained.


“You are married and have children, I bet.”  I said it simply.


“Is that some kind of threat?” she asked.


“No more, no less than yours,” I said.  “To be honest I find all threats unpleasant.  So let’s leave it at this,  No matter what I did, it would have an adverse effect on Cheryl.  Neither of us want that.   I can roll over on you, and you can dream up shit on Cheryl, so we are at a standoff.  The difference is, I care what happens to Cheryl.  I do believe you are the kind of bureaucratic bitch who wouldn’t hesitate to burn Cheryl, just to prove a stupid point.  So I’m not going to fight you on this, but know this as well.  If you do anything to harm Cheryl, all these conversations are on tape and in the hands of the TV producers.  So ask yourself, did I say anything that could come back to bite me on the ass.  Because lady, I promise you, it will be on national TV, if Cheryl goes back inside for any reason. Now I’ll back off and let you two have your fun.  That is unless you say one more fucking word to me this morning.  In which case I will nail your ass to the wall.  You have a good day now.”  I took my brown back, still unopened, and hobbled to the cruiser.


I shed a few tears of frustration.  Yes I was frustrated because I couldn’t just kick the bitch’s ass.  Even more so, because I didn’t know which bitch I wanted to maul first.


I drove the cruiser to the other kind of Mall and hobbled around a mile and a half.  Not even seeing Tiny Dancer in her bright yellow beret improved my mood.  She waved and I managed to return it without giving her the finger.  That was a monumental feat the mood I was in.


I probably should not have done it in the mood I was in, but I tried to interview another of Smiley’s victims.  She was a college kid near the end of her school year.  Campus security showed me to her dorm room.  They also stayed to be sure I didn’t violate her rights, or refuse to leave when asked by her.  Since she refused to tell me anything, I could only guess that it was the presence of the security officer that shut her up.  I felt like I had plenty, and there would be more coming, so I didn’t press her.


I did mention to the security officer that his presence probably intimidated the student.  He then informed me that it was procedure.  Nothing at all he could do about it.


My second try worked out much better.  The young woman had a baby in her arms and was more than ready to testify.  She, like Sarah, had been ashamed that she did nothing to stop the prick, but there was nothing she could do, until I showed up.







About cindypress

sorry it is a mystery.
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2 Responses to 164 Egg Sandwich Hold the drama please.

  1. jack says:

    That guy was a real piece of work. I hope Max takes of him real good.

  2. cindypress says:

    yeah a real sleazy bastard

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