Buy y'all some wine?

"You not there in two minutes? I'm starting without you," Charlotte threatened, pulling her tee shirt up and off.

Colt looked at her thin freckled arms, thin pale shoulders with small spattering of freckles across her throat and upper chest.

He let out a small groan, looking at Charlotte's small breasts and hard pink nipples. Each breast was the size of a medium sized lemon half and attached to her torso. Colt's erection was immediate, looking at her beautiful flesh.

She stomped to the bedroom, unsnapping and unzipping her blue jean shorts as her flip flops slapped the linoleum floor.

"Be right there, Colt said and drained his beer in two gulps.

He rinsed his mouth with tap water, not wanting to kiss Charlotte with beer on his tongue. He stripped his own shirt off, then trotted to the bedroom.

"Oh, no ma'am," Colt said, entering the darkened bedroom. "You put them lights on. I want see every square inch of you."

"Why?" Charlotte asked. "I'm not that pretty."

"You not, Charlotte, who told you you're not pretty?" Colt asked, clicking on the bedside lamp.

"Everybody," Charlotte said, shrinking underneath the sheets.

"Everybody's full of shit too," Colt said, stripping off his blue jeans.

He pulled the sheet and blanket up and off of her thin frame. She flailed her thin arms, trying to cover her small breasts, her thin wisps of pubic hair from sight.

"Damn, woman, first time saw you? Thought you were perfect," Colt husked, sliding onto the bed.

He pulled her to him and kissed her. She ceased struggling and returned his kiss. He nudged her lips with his tongue and she opened her mouth.

"But now? I know you're perfect. Charlotte, you're not pretty, you're beautiful," Colt husked, large hands rubbing over her back, combing through her long hair, rubbing her shoulders and arms.

"Oh," Charlotte sighed.

"Damn, I want kiss every square inch of you," Colt said, kissing her thin neck.

When he reached her small breasts Charlotte arched her back. She shuddered in a surprising orgasm when he began to gnaw at her hard nipples.

"Oh," Charlotte moaned when his mouth covered her wet pussy.

Colt licked and sucked Charlotte to two orgasms, then kissed his way back to her gasping mouth. He kissed her lips then drove his throbbing erection into her pussy.

"Jesus!" Charlotte screamed at the top of her lungs.

Her pussy clamped down around Colt's cock, her thin legs wrapped around his narrow waist. Her face scrunched in a powerful orgasm that had her frozen, locked in place.

"Aigh!" she then screamed and shuddered violently.

"Aw fuck," Colt groaned and emptied his load into her tight pussy.

A few moments later, Colt withdrew his limp cock from her sloppy pussy. He staggered into the small bathroom and found his father's threadbare washcloths.

"Oh," Charlotte moaned as Colt gently sponged her pussy clean of their combined juices.

"I, that, Colt, Was I good? I was good, wasn't I?" Charlotte asked, voice high with desperation.

"Baby, you were unbelievable," Colt whispered, pulling her close.

She kissed his face almost frantically. Colt laughed and held her tightly.

They fell asleep, holding each other. It seemed like moments later when Charlotte woke Colt by jostling him. He watched as Charlotte bent her head and took his cock into her mouth. She looked up into his eyes when he moved her long red hair out of the way.

"I want to watch you," he whispered.

Charlotte did not like the taste of semen. But she dutifully swallowed his load. After he finished spurting his load, Colt pulled Charlotte up to straddle his hips.

"Tired of always having to do all the work while you just lay there, la de dah, think I'll paint my fingernails while you sweating and slaving there," Colt teased her. "Here, you do the work, huh?"

"Ugh!" Charlotte cried out as Colt drove himself into her pussy.

She shuddered in a mild orgasm when Colt wormed a spittle wet finger into her rectum. She gasped and panted as he fucked his finger in and out of her anus. His large cock filled her pussy deliciously; Charlotte did wonder if she'd ever be able to take the thick member into her anal cavity; he was large.

"Ugh!" she cried out as a second orgasm began to well up in her guts.

Again, Colt used a washcloth to clean her. Then he turned off the bedside lamp and they slept.

The next day, Colt went to see the nightclub his father had passed down to him. He did not tell any of the employees he was coming. He simply punched the address into his phone and followed directions from Kimble home to Elegante, in Elgee, Louisiana.

The exterior was a gray cinderblock building, very much in line with every other building in the commercial neighborhood. There was an adult bookstore on the corner, a pawn shop directly across the street and a barber shop that looked as if it had been there for decades.

"Hey Sugar," a horse faced Latin woman smiled when Colt entered the building.

"Hey," Colt smiled.

The interior looked very much like the exterior. Faded, gray. There were a few light fixtures that were dark. The carpet had tears and stains in it. The place reeked of stale sweat, cigarettes, spilled beer, even a hint of urine. The sound system was deplorable; Colt couldn't even tell what kind of music was squawking out of the ceiling's speakers.

"Draft?" Colt asked and the woman nodded.

Colt took a seat and watched a tired woman wiggle and wobble. He slid a ten dollar bill to the Latin woman when she put a nearly flat beer in front of him. She paused, looking expectantly at Colt, then peeled four singles off and slapped them down.

"Six bucks? For this?" Colt asked himself and took a sip.

"I'm fixing go on, 'less you might want go in the Champagne Room?" the Latin woman suggested.

"Thanks, but not right now," Colt smiled.

"Okay," the woman said walking away.

Colt sat and drank two beers, watching three women dance. There were a few customers in the place, but one was busily texting, another two were arguing about a football game that had occurred five years ago, another was so drunk he couldn't lift his head from the table.

Charlotte looked up from an early afternoon television show when Colt entered the house. She smiled warmly and Colt couldn't help but smile.

"So? How was it?" she asked, getting to her feet so she could hug and kiss him.

"Depressing as all fuck," Colt said. "I mean, shit, even the neighborhood sucks."

But even as he complained about the bar, the neighborhood, he kept his hands on her. Charlotte shivered as his hands teased her small breasts, her nearly flat backside.

Through Nicole Banks, an attorney with Coutre & Associates, Colt received all financial records, as well as insurance information and tax records of his father's estate. Charlotte proved to be blessed with a head for numbers and pointed out where Elegante, the nightclub could save a few bucks.

"Save a lot more if I just drop a match on the place," Colt said.

"Colt, is it really that bad?" Charlotte asked.

Colt drove her to the neighborhood. As darkness fell, the area looked even more desolate, almost forbidding.

Inside, there were a few more customers. One or two looked at the fresh faced Charlotte with real interest and she clung to Colt. There was an Asian woman and an African-American woman trolling the floor for customers to take to the Champagne Room in the rear of the building.

On the stage, dancing to squeaking, squawking music was an emaciated looking woman. Her age was impossible to tell; her makeup was caked on.

"Oh. Wow," Charlotte said, looking around. "Need me to find those matches?"

"Told you," Colt said, turning to guide her out of the dingy nightclub.

Again, Charlotte pored over the numbers. As decrepit as the building had looked, obviously, there was a market for tired, emaciated dancers, watered down beer and squealing music.

"And your father's life insurance with Young, Colt, how much did Thibodeaux Investments say was in that account?" Charlotte mused, scribbling.

"Thib... Uh, ninety eight thousand, four hundred and some change," Colt said, finding the statement.

"Okay, leave that; we'll probably need it when taxes roll around," Charlotte said. "And fifty from Young, give me your phone again."

Colt moved aside some of the papers so he'd have somewhere to put his can of beer. Charlotte tapped rapidly, read something, then continued to scribble.

"Okay, we close it down, none of them dancers need stick around," Charlotte mused. "Miller's Electronics? Right off fifty two? Whole new sound system, including P.A. will run right at seventeen hundred. Robichaux can rip out that carpet; good God, believe how bad it smelled in there?"

Colt smiled as Charlotte outlined her plans. She kept using phrases such as 'we' and 'us' and 'our.'

"And need to get another name for our place," Charlotte continued, small hands painting in the air. "Elegante might have been all right what? Ten, fifteen years ago? But there's nothing elegant about that place now. And everyone probably thinks Elegante's a shit hole. So, whole new name and..."

"The Shit Hole?" Colt suggested.

"Huh?" Charlotte asked, pausing in her monologue.

"Said we need a new name," Colt smiled.

"Oh. No, not the shit hole; that's terrible," Charlotte smiled. "But, really, what you think of what I've talked about so far?"

"You in charge, Baby. It's your place," Colt shrugged.

"No, Colt. It's our place," Charlotte said. "Oh, I tell you I called my momma?"

"No. What'd she say?" Colt asked.

"Told me I could just stay here far as she was concerned," Charlotte said, looking at his phone again.

"Baby, I'm sorry about that," Colt said.

"I'm not," Charlotte said. "Now, no, no, stupid phone. Hard, as in boner, not hard like difficult."

"What are you doing? You looking up porn on my phone?" Colt teased her and she shot him an impish grin.

"Desire Factory," she suddenly said.

"Hey, you back again?" the Latin woman greeted Colt the following day.

"Mm-hmm, Nate around?" Colt asked.

"Would be me," a man said, swiveling on his bar stool.

"Hi Nate, I'm Colton Roberts, Vincent's son," Colt said.

"I uh, he ain't never said he had him no kid," Nate stammered.

"No, huh?" Colt said. "Well, got the lease on this place; it's mine now. So, need the receipts, oh, and the deposits for the last two quarters, okay?"

"Uh, yeah, sure," Nate said nervously.

"Nate?" The Latin woman asked. "Uh, what's going on? Thought you said you own this now."

Charlotte pointed out where Nate had helped himself to more than half of the take. Timmons and Duhon, an accounting firm in DeGarde, Louisiana confirmed Charlotte's suspicions and Colt had Nate arrested. He also had two of the dancers and their boyfriends arrested; they were using Elegante's as a hub for their drug business. The other five dancers, Colt gave them a severance package of a thousand apiece. One of the women used her severance package for some low-grade heroin and died the day after she'd been let go.

Beer and liquor distributors found themselves having to negotiate with a hard customer. Colt found it quite humorous; this sweet, soft-spoken slim girl could be a fierce deal maker with the anonymity of the phone.

And after each hard fought battle, she needed him to hug her and tell her she wasn't a total bitch. The hugs and kisses often led to her locking his office door.

"Get that stuff," Charlotte would beg, dropping jeans and panties to the floor.

"What stuff?" Colt would tease as she draped herself across his desk, small brown hole winking at him.

"If you don't know what stuff by now, I see no hope for us," Charlotte would say, pulling her slender buttocks apart.

The first time they'd had anal sex, Charlotte had grunted, whimpered and screamed. His fingers stretching her had been uncomfortable enough, even with the lubrication he'd bought for this purpose. Two fingers had actually felt too thick, too forced. Three fingers had felt as if he was ripping her tissue.

"Ugh, oh God damn," Charlotte had screamed in her throat when the head of his cock pressed into her.

Pain radiated from her anus outward. It was a searing, stabbing pain that pulsed with each heartbeat.

Beads of sweat popped out on her forehead as she felt his blunt head pushing against her tightly clenched flesh. She sobbed, throat raw as he pushed a fraction of an inch into her.

She had her eyes tightly clenched. There was a red haze shining behind her eyeballs as he continued to press against her resisting flesh. She drummed her feet on the mattress as another fraction of an inch pushed into her.

"Ugh, oh God damn, God damn," Charlotte sobbed out when the head of Colt's cock popped past her sphincter.

To Colt, it was a most delicious feeling. His girlfriend's tight, hot hole was strangling the head of his cock as he pushed into her. He could actually feel her heartbeat as he pushed into her.

"Ugh, oh God, Baby, God, this is good," Colt murmured when his cock head pushed past her resisting sphincter.

"Ugh," Charlotte agreed, fingers white where she clutched her bony buttocks.

"I love you," Colt said, pushing another fraction of an inch into her.

"Love. You. Too," Charlotte wailed out.

"Ugh, fuck!" Colt groaned and pumped his sperm deep into her bowels.

"God damn!" Charlotte screamed out as Colt's spurting cock lunged forward.

A curious warmth began to crowd out the pain as she felt his white hot seed pumping into her. The warmth continued to well up inside of her as he jerked and thrust clumsily inside of her.

And, when he pulled out of her, Charlotte felt an odd emptiness in her guts. The odd feeling persisted, even after she scrambled off of the bed, scrambled to the bathroom.

"We doing that again, you hear?" Charlotte said weakly as she stood in the door of their bedroom.

"Good," Colt said, leisurely walking to their bathroom. "You got the perfect butt for it."

Now, draped over his desk, Charlotte indicated the tube of KY Jelly ®. Colt laughed and squirted some of the lubricant onto his middle and index fingers.

The first push was always met with resistance. The moment his greasy fingers would touch her anus, Charlotte would clamp her muscles tightly.

"Ugh, yes," Charlotte hissed as Colt's fingers pushed into her.

Robichaux Construction was quick, but professional. Paul Robichaux hid his amusement as the bone thin red head ordered him around, made demands of him. Directly behind the red head, her boyfriend would stand, shaking his head in amusement as Charlotte bullied the contractor.

Elgee Culinary College sent out a few of their instructors to look over the kitchen area. Looking around at the controlled chaos, one instructor asked if they knew what had happened to that nasty place Elegante?

"Got hit by Hurricane Charlotte," Paul Robichaux snickered, earning himself a glare from Charlotte.

"So, yes, bar food, sliders, wings, nachos, but with a little pizzazz, not just your usual greasy food; think any of your students can handle it?" Charlotte asked.

"Bar tenders?" Colt asked.

"I'm working on it," Charlotte snapped. "People? Think any of your students can handle it? Or do I need to go to New Orleans?"

"Oh, no! We'll send you; how many do you need?" one instructor hastened to assure the woman.

"We're open from four 'til two," Charlotte said. Split it into two five hour shifts, how about we start with two on each shift and go from there?"

"Bartenders?" Colt asked again.

"Pinoak School of Mixology on Barcelona, Colt," Charlotte snapped. "I'm on it."

"Hey, no need to be a bitch, huh?" Colt snapped and Charlotte's head whirled around.

Her pale complexion became even more pale. Her brown eyes filled with tears.

She dismissed the instructors from the culinary school, then pulled Colt into his office.

Charlotte leaned against Colt and sobbed, broken-hearted. Charlotte had watched her mother, an unhappy woman, drive husbands and boyfriends away with her unfriendly behavior. Charlotte herself had been driven to the point of fleeing with the first young man that showed her any affection.

Colt finally kissed Charlotte's self-recrimination away. She clung to him as he pulled her onto his lap.

"Just that, Sweetheart, you really got to remember, this is OUR deal. This isn't just Charlotte's deal, this is my deal too," Colt reminded her.

"But if I do good, you won't get rid of me," Charlotte gave voice to her deepest fear.

Nicole Banks, Colt's attorney with Coutre & Associates helped Colt draw up the legal documents. It spelled out in very specific language that Charlotte was half owner of 'Desire Factory.'

"Desire Factory?" Nicole asked.

"We're building hard ons, one cock at a time," Charlotte said blatantly. "But we can't put that on the sign, can we?"

"And desire factory it is," Nicole nodded. "Ever think of going into marketing?"

"Barely managed graduate high school," Charlotte smiled.

"And, to doubly make sure what's mine is yours and what's yours is mine," Colt said, and in front of their attorney, Colt got down on one knee and proposed to Charlotte.

Charlotte's mother shrilled that she had known Charlotte was knocked up. Charlotte's declaration that she was not pregnant fell on deaf ears. Charlotte's mother also claimed she did not know how to get in touch with Charlotte's father.

"Oh, and them two little bitches, my shit don't stink you used run around with?" her mother snarled.

"Anna Lynne and Terri?" Charlotte guessed.

"Uh huh, well, they ain't so high and mighty now," the woman said gleefully. "They're both pregnant, both of them running around, big old bellies sticking out to there."

"Huh," was Charlotte's response.

Their wedding ceremony was a simple one in the courtroom of Judge Marie Robichaux. When Charlotte asked if she was any relation to Paul Robichaux, the horse faced woman smiled and declared that Paul was her son.

Ads were placed in the local newspapers of both St. Ann and St. Elizabeth parishes, as well as on-line. Elgee sent over seven of their recent graduates to interview for the job of short-order cooks and Charlotte dismissed two of them without speaking a word to them.

"Hmm?" Colt asked.

"Way they was looking around, like they were afraid they was going catch something if they touch anything?" Charlotte snapped.

When the proposed menu was discussed, another took herself out of consideration. The woman declared she had not studied and slaved at Elgee Culinary College just to make hamburgers.

Pinoak School of Mixology sent over four recent graduates. One was a muscular African-American man with a shaved head. His handsome face beamed as he quickly, deftly demonstrated his skills.

"Okay, you're hired," Charlotte said. "Shit, half our girls will be following you around, I swear."

"Uh huh, and unless they got a dick? I don't even want know about it," Elwood smiled.

Clair Richards reminded Charlotte of Anna Lynne. She was an attractive, self-confident woman with an impish smile and loud, boisterous personality.

Carmen Trent was a Latin cutie that didn't look old enough to drive, much less be behind a bar. Her smile was a dimpled one and she was quite flirty.

Charlotte would have hired Annette Bergeron to be a dancer; the bartender exuded sexual energy. Her voice was low and husky and her smile was a sultry one.

"And uh, don't tell Elwood, but I do got a dick," Annette said, looking at the handsome black man and licking her lips.

Miller's Electronics showed Charlotte and Colt how to operate the DJ equipment. They also showed the two how to access the surveillance equipment, how to keep an eye on everything that was going on in their club.

Two dozen hopefuls showed up to audition as dancers. Charlotte had already familiarized herself with state, city and parish regulations concerning dancers. She made sure each dancer knew the rules and regulations as well.