Admirable Faith

He released his son. Brandon staggered, hand at his throat.

"Just lucky that red headed cunt's not interested in pressing charges," Gary spat at his son.

-.—

The bodies of the Moore family had been too badly burned for an open casket funeral. The Reverend James McCall arranged three photographs he'd had of the three members on small easels. He spoke of God's love and forgiveness, praised Bill, Juanita, and Paige Moore for being good, God loving people, praised the attendance, praised the tithing of the Moore family.

Mercedes sat, staring at the high school photograph of Paige Ellen Moore, stared at the almost mocking smile of her former classmate.

"You helped to ruin me, Paige Ellen Moore," Mercedes thought bitterly. "Because of you? No good, God-fearing man would ever desire me."

Then she lowered her head and fought against the tears of bitterness that threatened to spill. With a small nod, Mercedes raised her head and looked at the photograph again.

"I forgive you," she mouthed silently. "I forgive you; I do not want to carry the weight of resentments around."

"How are you?" William Walters asked quietly, taking a seat next to Mercedes.

"Oh! Mister... William! It's, I, what are you doing here?" Mercedes asked, surprised at seeing the man.

She also felt a little flushed as the man sat next to her. She could smell his cologne, a hint of musk, of wood notes. She could also smell his sweat; she found his scent to be warm, inviting.

He was a handsome man and she peered into his warm brown eyes for a long moment. Then she flushed bright red and pulled her eyes from his.

"Just like you, I'm paying my respects," he said quietly, his warm voice sending shivers up and down Mercedes's spine.

"Mr. Walters," Yvette said crisply.

He nodded in greeting to the harsh faced woman. She tried to feign disinterest; Yvette Scott likewise thought William Walters was an attractive man. She stoically faced the podium where Reverend McCall was imploring the few patrons to praise God for His benevolence.

After a few more moments, the Reverend did remember that this was a work night for most in his congregation and dismissed them. Most remained, chatting quietly amongst themselves about the tragic loss.

"Mrs. Scott," William smiled over Mercedes's head at Yvette.

"It's MS. Scott," Yvette said, flushing slightly.

"Hmm? Oh, yes, yes, of course, Ms. Scott," William said. "I, Mercedes had come in for an informal interview; I'm sure she told you of that?"

"Hmm? Interview?" Yvette asked, looking at Mercedes quizzically.

"Anyway, she did quite well; I'd really like to talk with her some more about the interview," William stated, gently touching Mercedes on her arm

"Oh?" Yvette asked, her attention focused on her hotly blushing daughter.

"It's, I haven't eaten yet; came straight from work. Have either one of you ever eaten at the Bombay Café? In Two Alliance Square?" William asked.

"No, no, I haven't," Yvette agreed.

"Meet you there," William said and walked away.

He stopped and spoke with a few others and even nodded politely to Reverend McCall. The reverend pretended not to notice the former member of his congregation and feigned interest in something Mrs. Sattler was complaining about.

On the twenty minute drive from the Church Of Golgotha to the parking lot of 2 Alliance Square, Yvette grilled Mercedes about the interview. Mercedes protested that she had indeed told her mother about the interview, had even printed up the resume right in front of her mother.

"Well, what was the job for?" Yvette asked.

"I don't know," Mercedes admitted.

"Pretty hard to do a job you don't know," Yvette snapped.

At the small Indian restaurant, William pushed in Yvette's chair, then pushed in Mercedes's chair as well. Then he pointed out the dishes he liked on the menu.

"Anyway, Stacy, our receptionist? She's been with Walters since we opened seven years ago; I used to be a Texas State Troopers but after took a bullet to my chest, missed my heart by millimeters, opened Walters Security," William said, tasting his mango iced tea.

"Oh!" Mercedes gasped, horrified that William had been shot.

"But Stacy has decided that she'd like to take on some case management and you know what? Anyone knows our business? It's Stacy," William smiled as Mercedes's hand fluttered over his hand.

"Lentil soup, there is lime wedge in bottom," their waiter announced, placing three cups in front of the patrons.

"Ms. Tripp said you type eighty five words a minute and Reverend McCall says you're punctual, always willing to work," William smiled as Mercedes gingerly fished her lime wedge from her soup.

"That's my girl," Yvette beamed with motherly pride.

"So, I'd like for you to consider being our receptionist; twelve an hour, full benefits after your ninety days are up, matched four oh one," William continued and sucked on his lime wedge.

"Twelve? An hour?" Yvette asked, mouth open in surprise. "Well now! I've been with Deubler Furniture and Appliances for six years and I'm making, well, that's not important. Wow, Mr. Walters, that's quite generous."

Mercedes had her legs tightly clamped together. His warm brown eyes, his manly scent, his handsome face; she wondered how she'd be able to work, day after day around William Walters.

"When would you like for me to start, Mr. Walters?" she finally asked, voice coming out in a squeak.

"Told you, call me William," he smiled. "You'd come in on Monday, fill out the application."

"Told me to call you William BEFORE I was your employee," Mercedes quietly pointed out.

"But I'm ordering you to," William quietly stated.

"Yes sir," Mercedes said, lowering her eyes.

William almost smiled. But with Yvette staring at him, he did not.

-.—

Stacy trained Mercedes, showed her which button did what, helped her navigate the email system, then turned the girl loose. On Friday of Mercedes's first week, Stacy took the two week vacation she and her husband had saved up for, truly leaving Mercedes alone on the phone system.

"Doing okay, Mercedes?" Bob Bennet, one of the field operatives asked, walking through the waiting room.

"Yes sir, Mr. Bennett," Mercedes agreed. "Hello, Mr. Faulkner."

Behind the beautiful red head's back, Bob pantomimed burying his face between Mercedes's ample breasts. John Faulkner chuckled lightly. Both men had innocent faces when Mercedes glanced behind herself.

"Gentlemen, and I use that term very loosely," William smirked at his two field operatives.

"Who you calling 'gentlemen?'" Bob asked.

"And who you calling 'loosely?'" John asked.

"Mercedes, how are you doing?" William asked gently, lightly resting a large hand on her shoulder.

"I, I'm, yes sir," Mercedes spluttered, feeling the heat of his hand on her shoulder.

"God damn, girl's got it bad for you, Boss," John chuckled as the trio entered the small employee lounge.

William just smiled and poured himself a cup of coffee.

"Might have it bad, but damn, she cannot make coffee," William said after taking a sip.

William made a fresh pot, poured himself a fresh cup, then reminded his two employees that Walters Security was a place of business; might they have some business to attend to? He finally unlocked the door to his office and entered his sanctuary.

"Mister... William? Gary Ellis on line three," Mercedes said quietly when William answered his phone.

"Mercedes? I'll be out; did you bring lunch today?" William asked as he walked through the lobby.

"I uh, I yes sir, Momma made a pot roast yesterday so I got um, I made myself a sandwich," Mercedes stammered as William again gently touched her shoulder.

She actually let out a squeak when his hand rubbed down from shoulder to back, just above her bra strap.

"Man, that sounds good," William smiled. "With a little bit of onion? Bell Pepper?"

"Onion, but I didn't put any on my sandwich," Mercedes managed to say, even as his large hand lightly caressed her back.

"Makes my breath kind of stinky," she whispered.

"Solution for that," William smiled, digging in a pocket. "Open your mouth."

Mercedes did as ordered. William gave her a spritz of breath freshener. He chuckled when she jerked slightly.

The errand for Gary Ellis did not take long and William returned just as Mercedes was switching the phone system to auto-attendant. He smiled and told her he would join her for lunch, if that was okay with her.

"I uh, Yes sir, I, I would like that," Mercedes blushed.

"You know, you're so cute when you blush like that," William smiled widely.

"Oh! Stop that!" Mercedes said, hiding her face with her small hands.

The next Friday, just as she was preparing to shut the phone system down, William called Mercedes into his office.

"So, plans for this weekend?" he casually asked.

"No sir," Mercedes said. "I mean, got church on Sunday, but..."

"So, if I was to ask you, would you join me for dinner? At oh, I don't know, The Gearbox?" William asked.

"The... Where... I uh, I heard their waitresses are almost naked," Mercedes whispered, beautiful eyes wide.

"Uh huh. And if I said that's where I want to go? Would you accompany me?" William asked, searching her eyes.

"I yes sir," Mercedes agreed.

"On a date?" William pressed. "A social, boyfriend dash girlfriend kind of date?"

Mercedes's face had been red during their exchange. At William's almost forceful words, she swooned slightly. Unable to speak, she finally nodded her head in agreement.

"Maybe some other time," William chuckled. "Tonight, I've got reservations for us at Tokyo Gardens. You like Japanese?"

"I, where they cook? Right in front of you?" Mercedes gasped. "I've never, I heard that place is expensive!"

Fortunately for Mercedes, Yvette was working at the Sweet Oak's Deubler Furniture & Appliances. She did not have to endure her mother's anger; Mercedes had a sneaking suspicion that Yvette was jealous of Mercedes's new job, jealous of Mercedes's proximity to William Walters. She also did not have to chance Momma's forbidding her from going on the date with William Walters, a man easily twice Mercedes's age.

Mercedes saw that her closet was quite sparse with choices. She had a few slacks, a few blouses, and she had dresses. She'd already worn her nicest dresses for her day at the office and Tokyo Gardens was far too nice for slacks and blouses.

She finally selected a nice dress in cream coloring, found a brand new pack of pantyhose and put on her nicest bra.

"Well now, don't you look nice," William complimented when she answered the door.

"Thank you; you look very handsome," Mercedes murmured.

The patrons of Tokyo Gardens sit on large cushions at a low slung table. The cooking surface was in front of the guests and a chef knelt and cooked the meal. There was much clattering and clanging, much fancy knife work.

During the presentation, during the chef's quite noisy demonstration, William ran his hand up and down Mercedes's back, from underneath her bra strap to just above her buttocks. Mercedes's attention was divided between the loud, boisterous cooking and the warmth of William's hand.

"Is that pantyhose?" William asked as the chef quickly diced their vegetables.

"Yes," Mercedes replied.

"I detest pantyhose," William smiled. "For at the office? That's fine. But when we're on a date? You will wear stockings, garter belts. Agreed?"

"Yes sir," Mercedes murmured. "I'm sorry. I didn't..."

"Mercedes, you didn't know," William said gently. "It's fine. We'll correct that when we leave here."

Then his lips gently touched hers. Mercedes wished she'd thought to put a panty liner in the crotch of her pantyhose; she could feel her excitement oozing from her womanhood.

William applauded quietly, but Mercedes applauded enthusiastically when the chef finished preparing their meal. They ate, both approving of the meal.

"That was so good; thank you, William," Mercedes murmured as they left the restaurant.

"You are welcome," William said, gently pinning her against his car.

Again, she could feel her excitement flooding the gusset of her pantyhose as he kissed her lips. Mercedes could feel his hard, muscular body as he pressed against her.

Silksations was a lingerie shop. Mercedes blushed a bright red as she looked at the intimate apparel on mannequins around the small shop.

"Thirty two, E," she mumbled when the shop's clerk asked her what size bra she wore.

"Again, Mercedes, pantyhose is fine for the office, but when we're on a date?" William whispered, his breath hot in her ear. "You will wear stockings, garters."

"Yes sir," Mercedes agreed quietly.

In the small fitting room, the sales clerk assisted Mercedes in hooking the corset

"Wish my Daddy would buy me some of this stuff," the girl cheerfully said. "Even with my discount? Can't hardly afford some of this, I swear."

"He's not my Daddy," Mercedes mumbled, but smiled.

The corset formed a small shelf that pressed her breasts up. It was positively obscene; her hard nipples were fully exposed in the black garment.

"The panties?" Mercedes asked, pointing to the small scrap of silk as the sales clerk began preparing the stockings.

"They go on after you hook the stockings up," the girl said.

"Hmm? Why's that?" Mercedes asked as they rolled the stockings up her slightly chubby legs.

"In case you have tinkle; can just pull them down, don't got to unhook this, unhook that," the girl explained.

"Plus that," the girl whispered. "My three boyfriends? They love it when I'm just wearing mine and my stockings and nothing else."

"You are a sinful Jezebel, a shameless whore," Mercedes wanted to scream at the girl.

How dare she, how dare this strumpet, this brazen harlot actually boast about having not one, but three lovers? How dare this, this, this slut smile proudly when speaking of enjoying the attentions of men that she is not married to?

"Judge not," Mercedes quietly chided herself. "After all, you are in this store, hoping to earn the favor of a man you are not..."

Tears sprang to her eyes as Mercedes reflected; she was a fallen woman. Her pure flesh had been soiled. William knew this; he'd sat and viewed the soiling, the sullying of her flesh with her. He'd seen images of her being used.

"Looks nice," the sales girl said, breaking Mercedes out of her reverie. "Want your man come in and see it?"

"I am... Yes, please," Mercedes agreed.

"She'll take it. I want that in red, pink, um, Mercedes, you like leopard print?" William declared as he stood in the small cubicle.

"Yes sir!" the sales girl said enthusiastically, already thinking of what she'd spend the three percent commission on.

"And this garter belt, and these stockings, and these, what are these called, shelf bras?" William continued, putting some more garments onto the counter.

"William, I cannot, my mother will see these shameful things," Mercedes hissed.

"Then we'll keep this at my place," William said, pulling her tightly against himself. "You'll change at my place."

Mercedes could feel something poking her insistently in her soft belly. She gasped when she realized, it was William's manhood.

"Yes," she hissed.

"I love a woman that says 'yes,'" William smiled and kissed her again, even sliding his tongue into her mouth.

"Now, wear slacks or jeans tomorrow," William ordered as he backed his car into the small driveway of her mother's home.

"Yes, William," she said. "Um, why do you back up when you park?"

"Same reason I drive a piece of shit car," William smiled.

He indicated the Ford Focus with a wave of his hand. Mercedes shrugged; she'd not thought it was a piece of poo car.

"It's a crappy little car, everyone's seen one everywhere, doesn't get any attention, makes it easy to trail someone," William explained and pointed to the front of the car. "But, that engine has been modified; it puts out almost six hundred horsepower. This shift here? I can switch from front wheel to rear wheel to all wheel independent drive."

He opened his car door, after giving a quick glance around at their surroundings. He walked around to Mercedes's door, eyes still sweeping the landscape.

"Backed in? I can get out in a hurry if I need to," he smiled, helping her from the car.

His kiss at the door made Mercedes moan into his mouth. She clung to him, feeling his rock hard manhood digging into her belly. She could feel his muscular torso pressed against her breasts.

"Pick you up about ten, okay?" he murmured into her ear and kissed her again.

"Yes," she breathed.

William then slapped Mercedes on her buttocks. It was a hard, stinging slap. Her beautiful hazel eyes opened wide, her cupid bow mouth formed an 'O' and she felt the crotch of her pantyhose become soaked.

William smiled and kissed her again, then turned and walked to his car door. Before opening his door, he turned and nodded his head.

Mercedes stood, watching as he drove away. For a long moment, she fought to control her breathing. Then she opened the door and entered the house.

In the morning, Yvette was very unhappy to hear that her daughter had a date with William Walters. Yvette's unhappiness grew when she heard that this was in fact a second date for William and Mercedes.

"Tokyo Gardens?" Yvette complained.

"When I get my first paycheck, I'll take you there," Mercedes promised, buttoning her nicest blouse.

Grumbling, Yvette opened the door for a smiling William Walters. She politely made small talk while Mercedes finished brushing her long red hair.

"And when can I expect her to return?" Yvette snapped as William took Mercedes's hand.

"Hmm, about five. Then she'll need to get dressed; we have reservations at Geno's for six thirty," William said.

"Geno's?" both Yvette and Mercedes asked.

"Yes; don't like Italian?" William asked.

"No, no, I love Italian," Mercedes quickly amended.

"Great; you'll love Geno's," William smiled.

Their first stop was William's home. Mercedes gawked at the three story home on Roberts Drive, gawked at the gleaming white bricks, the rich mahogany doors, the sparkling brass fixtures. Even the three car garage was spotless as they pulled William's nondescript car into the bay.

"Ferrari," William answered Mercedes's unasked question as she gaped at a gleaming black sports car. "And a Harley-Davidson Fat Boy," he said when she saw the modified motorcycle. "That's our ride for today."

"A... Motorcycle?" Mercedes squeaked, full cotton panties becoming soaked, even with the panty liner she'd put into the crotch.

"Come. Your outfits are in the second bedroom," William ordered, ushering Mercedes into the house.

She again felt her crotch become sodden with excitement when he gripped her wrists, pinned her arms behind her back. Held in his powerful grasp, Mercedes walked up the flight of steps.

On the bed was a black lace half-cup bra, a black lace thong, black lace barter belt and smoky gray stockings with seam trailing from heel to black lace cuffs. William released her hands and left Mercedes to dress herself.

Mercedes was oddly off-balance as she removed her clothing. She neatly folded her bra and plain white panties, wondering where she should put them. She finally decided to stuff both into her purse.

Remembering to save the panties for last, Mercedes watched her reflection in the mirror as she dressed. The bra left her hard nipples fully exposed, as well as much of her areolae. The black garter belt perched above her full, soft hips and the dark stockings seemed to slim her slightly pudgy thighs. The black thong panties covered her sprigs of carrot orange pubic hair, covered her puffy inner lips. Mercedes shivered as she felt the black scrap separate her two pale fleshy globes.

It almost seemed to be a shame to cover her ensemble with the plain blouse and khaki trousers. Finally, she put her leather loafers on her small feet, then left the bedroom.