🥵…the front door opens…with…great…anticipation…🥵

WTL9Jw8.jpg [https://i.imgur.com/WTL9Jw8.jpg]

On the other side is the world’s hottest man and the source of “inspiration” behind The Prince of JungleCLUBS, Witty LeDoux, Witty LeDoux, in the sweaty flesh~💦 He’s single, and that’s all you need to know right now~💦

st6XGkF.jpg [https://i.imgur.com/st6XGkF.jpg]

“Mornin’, sugah~💖” Faith is single too, very single…

This is the latest in Faith’s Flirting Strategies, referred to as “Okaa-san Mode” because Faith makes herself look like an “okaa-san” because Faith wants to become an “okaa-san”...with a little bit of help…😏…

“Is that a ‘pallet jack’ in your pocket, or are yew just happy to see me~?” Faith fires off a wink like a gunshot. *WA-BAM*

*MISSED* “Huh-hiya-Faith! Ha, I wish I had a pallet jack in my pocket, whew, it’s murder this morning…” Witty’s knees buckle, and he feels like his spine will give out. “Can I drop these for a sec?”

“Of course, sweetie~🔥” Faith takes a drag from her cigarette and blows smoke. But only if yew drop those pants for a sec~🔥 She licks her lips.

*squeak* *squeak* Cherry takes a drag from her cigarette and blows smoke, too, mousey style.

The boxes shield Witty’s nostrils from the assault of sleazy smoke.

*THUD* Witty lets it drop and wipes sweat from his forehead. “It ain’t gonna get any easier. I got twelve more stops to go…” He points back to the loaded cart behind him on the sidewalk. Witty pulls out a receipt from his chest pocket. “And this…” He craaaaaaacks his back up. “...is for yer dad…”

Faith contemplates if she’s brave enough to ask him to leave the receipt between her boobies…no she definitely isn’t brave enough…so she’s frozen in place…

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

Witty takes the initiative, takes Faith’s hands, and gives it to her.

dxLzXgx.jpg [https://i.imgur.com/dxLzXgx.jpg]

“...the…umm…heat’s getting to ya too, huh?” Witty laughs awkwardly.

But not as awkwardly as Faith, failing to release his hands. “Oh, yes, it is, sugah~🥵” Faith is very single and very smitten.

*char* “Umm…be careful with that receipt…”

*char* “Be careful with my heart~💘”

Witty doesn’t get it, but whatever, he has boxes that need lifting, unfortunately. *craaaaaaack* *snaaaaap* He lifts with his legs, not his back, yet his back still manages to absorb all the pressure somehow. “Alrightyyyyyyyy, want me to bring them inside or…” Boxes are tilting, ready to tumble, as Witty watches the top of the stack.

*shut* *lock* Faith pulls in the door. “Silly boy, right here on the porch is fine, very fine~❤️‍🔥” She takes a moment to inspect Witty’s 🥵pallet jack🥵 while his view is obscured. I need the heat to get to me more~🔥 Way more~🔥 Faith fans herself with her hand.

“Ha, ha, uh…you could have told me that before I picked these back up…ha…oh boy…” There’s hidden resentment in Witty’s laughter.

There’s no resentment in Faith’s lust. Keeping Witty’s face/view distracted/hidden to “get a better look at the goods~🥵” is a common country girl strategy around these parts. Works every time.

“Anyway…………………gotta run!” Witty’s spine may soon pop out and stake him in the ground.

“Wait!” No, Faith won’t let this opportunity slide yet. Hell no. “The delivery boy deserves a nice tip~💖” She puckers up and is ready to reel this one in, hook, line, and…

Sk9aIHd.jpg [https://i.imgur.com/Sk9aIHd.jpg]

…stinker…Witty is already gone…the receipt charred like the fading light of Faith’s poor sweet maiden’s heart…

“K-kiss me yew fool~💖” Faith smooches sweet nothingness. “...I’ll give yew a raise if yew tackle may to the floor, big boy~💖 Come on, let’s test the lift on yer pallet jack and make a nasty HR violation~🥵” She slowly opens one eye. “…💔…” Now, it’s clear to her that Witty is gone, but it will never be clear to her how shameful her dialogue is.

…Faith lets the winds of embarrassment, stale cigarette smoke, and a broken heart set the mood for the scene…oh and Faith forgot that the windows are open…

“Is that…*sniff* *sniff*...ARE YEW SMOKING OUT THERE AGAIN!?!?” Bishop provides some emotional direction. “WHAT DID I SAY ABOUT SMOKING IN MY HOUSE!?!?”

“I ain’t smoking in the house, Pa!” Faith launches her cigarette away, turns, and pouts. “...boys…*hmph*...men…” She opens the door in a snap and slams it shut in another snap.

…

…

“HEY! MY RECEIPT!!!” Bishop’s voice rattles the whole humble home from roof to floor to floor to down deep in the cellar!

-CHAPTER END-