Vodka: Pecan Pralines

Author's Note: This story has been posted to Literotica. Com with the full knowledge of the original author, JimBob44. No part or whole of this story may be reprinted in any other format or on any other web site without the express written consent of the original author.

Any and all persons engaging in any sexual activity are at least eighteen years of age.

This story has been edited by myself, utilizing Microsoft Spell-Check. You have been forewarned; expect to find mistakes.

**..**

Wanda Biggs blinked at the price of the Nulough's Brown Sugar Vodka. The fifth of Nulough's Caramel Vodka was priced at four dollars and ninety nine cents, but the fifth of Brown Sugar had a price tag of one dollar and ninety nine cents. On the shelf below the fifths, the half-gallon bottle of Nulough's Brown Sugar Vodka was selling for two dollars and ninety nine cents whereas the half-gallon of Caramel was selling for seven dollars and ninety nine cents.

"Is this right?" Wanda called out.

Wanda was not surprised that the old man ignored her. Most people tended to ignore her. When they could not ignore her, they regarded her with contempt and disdain, treated her with scorn and ridicule.

Wanda had a pretty face; big brown eyes, waist length thick, wavy light blonde hair, a cute little nose and pouting lips. She also had a double chin; she packed one hundred and eighty pounds on a five foot, three inch frame.

With an exasperated sigh, Wanda approached the thick window and stood before the old man. Finally, he looked up from whatever he was watching on his computer monitor and nodded curtly to the obese blonde.

"The um, Nuhh loff's vodka? The brown sugar one? It really only one ninety nine for a fifth?" Wanda asked.

"Pronounced 'New Lows.' You drinking that shit, you've reached new lows in your drinking," the old man gave her a garish smile, revealing a mouth of missing teeth and rotted gums.

"Cute," Wanda laughed. "But seriously; the brown sugar?"

"Yeah, yeah, can't give that one away. People like the Apple, the Peppermint. But the brown sugar? Shit's been sitting on my shelf for months. Just want get it out of here; free up the shelf space for something else," the man agreed.

Wanda bought all eight fifths of the brown sugar as well as the five half-gallons. It took three trips to carry her largess to her car. Then she wandered the aisles, wondering what to mix with her stockpile of alcohol.

"Hey, we also got some Iron Barrel in the brown sugar," the old man offered.

Wanda shuddered violently at the thought of whiskey. Ronald Biggs, her father had drank Dewar's Scotch. When she was younger, just a chubby little girl, Ronald would pull Wanda into his lap and let her 'sneak' little sips of his scotch. He would cuddle her and squeeze her and tell her what a pretty little girl she was.

Wanda had been shocked, horrified to discover that her father had actually been attempting to groom her. He'd already groomed Wendy, Wanda's big sister, was already fucking Wendy when their idyllic life suddenly came to a screeching halt. Ronald was arrested and suddenly people were calling her and her baby sister and her mother horrible names, even throwing things at them.

Wanda shuddered again and continued searching for something that would mix with vodka. She was about to resign herself to simply mixing the vodka with diet cola when she happened on an end of the aisle display.

"Oh, this, I bet this would be good," Wanda mused, looking at a quart bottle of Mark's Pecan Praline Liqueur.

There were four one quart sized bottles of the Pecan Praline liqueur so she bought all four bottles. Finally Wanda decided she had spent enough money at the package store and left the establishment.

"Honey, you'd be a real pretty girl you just lost couple hundred pounds," the old man muttered, watching Wanda's buttocks wiggle and jiggle out of his store.

"Gee! Why didn't I think of that?" Wanda Margaret Biggs muttered to herself as she exited the store into the brutal biting winter wind.

After her father's arrest she and her sister and their mom left the greater Oakleaf, Texas area. For a while, they even resorted to using their mother's maiden name. Wanda discovered that Little Debbie and Dolly Madison and the Keebler elves didn't call her horrible names. Sarah Lee didn't curse her and she was always welcome at Pepperidge Farm.

Despite her horrible loneliness and desperate longing for companionship and acceptance, Wanda was an excellent student. In her senior year at her new high school, Wanda was carrying a 5.0 GPA; all of her classes were advanced placement courses. Colleges and universities vied for her attention; Walchester University in Commonstead, New Jersey won that raffle.

"Go Wolves," Wanda thought as she backed her mini-van into her garage.

Sitting while the garage door went down, Wanda looked at the expanse of snow that still covered the ground. Being from sunbaked Texas, Wanda had been thrilled with snow the first few times she'd experienced it. Soon, though, the novelty had worn off. Now, Wanda wondered if enough time had passed; could she move back home? Her mother had passed away; Wanda was sure her mother's heart attack had been brought on by all the trauma caused by their father.

"But I love my house," Wanda whined, opening the door of her mini-van.

The kitchen was large enough to accommodate a table and six chairs. The front room was spacious, housing two full couches, three chairs, two full sized ottomans, several bookcases and a large screen television. The rear room, the sun room housed Wanda's 'Laboratory.' Here, Wanda tinkered with her ideas. One of her ideas was how she'd come to own her own home at just twenty two years of age.

The WMB Food Preparation Station used various interchangeable attachments, all made of flexible silicone. It had two motors; one rotated the attached implements; the second motor agitated the attachment in an up and down motion. The WMB Food Preparation Station was safe enough for a child to use, yet powerful enough to actually slice meats, crush nuts, incorporate wet and dry ingredients to knead bread.

On-line sales were good, until Milt Duhon, a minor television celebrity in southwestern Louisiana said he couldn't live without his WMB mixer. Then Honey Bee, a radio personality in Arkansas said she'd be lost without her WMB. Sales skyrocketed and Wanda sold the licensing to a factory in Aitchel, Ohio.

After putting her groceries away and storing the excess bottles of Nulough's Brown Sugar Vodka in the utility closet in the rear of the garage, Wanda opened a fifth of the liquor and poured two jiggers into a glass. Adding a jigger of the Mark's Pecan Praline Liqueur, Wanda dropped three ice cubes into the glass and carried it from kitchen to laboratory.

Wiggling her large frame onto the solitary tall stool in the room, Wanda took a sip of the drink. A familiar burn started trickling down her throat. A curious warmth radiated outward when the alcohol reached her belly. Wanda knew she was an alcoholic, but as long as the checks kept coming in, she saw no need to curtail her drinking.

"Fuck, not like anyone would care," Wanda spat, downing her drink in one long swallow.

"Girl, go get your real cup," Wanda ordered herself.

She had a twenty four ounce insulated mug. She poured eight jiggers of the vodka and four jiggers of the liqueur into the mug, then dropped a few cubes of ice, plus the partially melted cubes from her glass into the container.

"Hmm. A mug that expands... Contracts when you drink..." Wanda mused as she drank deeply of the alcohol. "Damn, this is pretty good."

Would need to be made out of some sort of plastic that can expand and contract several times without bursting," she mused, scribbling some notes on her pad.

The computer was one she'd assembled herself. No sooner had she punched the button than the unit was asking for her fourteen character password. Wanda typed in her first name, capitalizing the vowels, her four digit year of birth, then her last name, capitalizing the vowel once more.

Leaning against the shelf, Wanda could feel the hum and buzz of her computer against her nipples. Her E cup breasts were capped with areolae slightly larger than silver dollar coins and each rust red areole was dotted with thick nipples that stood out thirteen millimeters when fully engorged. It did not take much for them to become fully engorged; that first spray from her shower, putting on her Ladner Group black silk bra, leaning against the shelf as her computer buzzed and whirred.

She worked on her project for roughly an hour, then gave up; she was no closer to a solution than when she had started. True, there were products that would expand and contract, but the trick was getting any liquid into such a receptacle with enough force to cause the container to expand. And, once the liquid was inside of the container, any pressure exerted against the container would cause the liquid to spurt out of any openings.

"Remember your juice from school?" Wanda sighed.

A third drink emptied the first fifth of Nulough's Brown Sugar Vodka and Wanda argued with herself, finally talking herself into fixing herself a meal before opening the next bottle of vodka.

Plus that; there's a bath calling your name," Wanda smiled.

Working quickly, she assembled four warm black bean tortilla wraps, using the spicy homemade salsa and guacamole she'd made with her WMB Food Preparation Station. She had a tortilla press, but her corn tortillas tended to fall apart before she was finished eating.

After her dinner, Wanda meticulously cleaned her kitchen. Growing up in Great Oak, Texas, Wanda had seen her fair share of giant cockroaches. She had no desire to invite any creepy crawly critters into her sanctuary.

"There you are. Who's Momma's big boy, huh?" Wanda cooed, pulling her waterproof vibrator from her bedside table.

Stripping out of her clothing, Wanda took a moment to look at her flabby body in the mirror. Her breasts were enormous, capped with very large areolae. Her belly had a substantial paunch to it; her navel was a large tunnel in the center of the fat. Her hips were wide, leading into very thick thighs. Her pubic mound was capped with a thick forest of blonde fur.

Her ass jiggled and shook as she turned to look critically at herself. With a sigh, Wanda entered the dimly lighted bathroom.

A solitary nightlight gleamed from the outlet just above the long vanity. Above the glow of the nightlight, Wanda could just make out her reflection in the long mirror as she piled her long, thick hair `on top of her head.

Twisting the tap, Wanda began filling the tub with nearly scalding water. She dropped a bath bomb of vanilla into the tub and the room filled with the aromatic scent of artificial vanilla.

Laying back against the molded backrest of her tub, Wanda began by twisting the vibrator's base to maximum speed. She teased her sensitive nipples, back and forth, back and forth with the tip of her vibrator. She then trailed the vibrator down between her breasts, over her belly and toward her wet folds.

And with a 'BBZZzz-zz-zz--zz' the vibrator died.

"Fuck!" Wanda yelled out.

These were fresh batteries; she'd changed them two nights ago when she'd noticed the vibrator was losing intensity. Twisting the base on and off produced no results. With a huff, Wanda dropped the offending toy onto the bathmat and took matters into her own hands.

After a less than satisfying session, Wanda dozed lightly. When the water was too cool for pleasure, she sluggishly used her left foot to kick the drain lever upward.

Sunday morning, Wanda staggered from her bedroom. She knew most of her neighbors would be scandalized if they could see the very cute baby doll top and matching thong panties she'd worn to bed. Wanda did not wear the pretty and intimate apparel for her neighbors; she wore them for herself. Being a big woman did not mean she could not enjoy sexy clothing.

After two waffles and four sunny side up eggs with six pieces of thick cut bacon, Wanda returned to her bedroom. Her first act was to make her bed. Then she grabbed the non-functioning vibrator and brought it to the laboratory. Disassembling the unit showed her that the motor was burned up.

"Seventy nine ninety nine for this fucker to just burn up?" Wanda sniped. "Damn cheap piece of junk."

Looking at the old schoolhouse clock she'd hung up in the room, Wanda decided it was far too early in the day for a drink. Instead, she decided to see if she could improve on the motor's design. As she made notes and calculations, Wanda did notice that her hands shook horribly.

Turning to her computer, Wanda's left breast knocked the notepad to the floor. Bending to retrieve the notes, Wanda saw an older sketch she'd made, thinking of a commercial grade WMB Food Preparation Station, one that would be for restaurant usage. The prototype was ready; she had an appointment in four days to demonstrate the WMB PRO to the factory in Ohio. Right now, the lawyers were haggling over each tiny screw and flange that would go into the production of the WMB PRO.

"Dual motors," Wanda mused, picking up her notes.

"And more powerful," Wanda said, sneering at the point zero three horsepower motor from her vibrator.

"No, no, not ten horsepower; God! Could kill someone," Wanda laughed out loud as she pulled up the specs of the simple motor.

"External rechargeable power supply; like an IPad or cell phone," she continued, deciding she could improve the design and function of the vibrator's motor.

"Acrilic? Silicone?" Wanda mused, looking at the various bowls she'd fashioned for the WMB PRO's attachments.

"Pyrex," Wanda stated.

Even as her hands shook horribly, Wanda labored to fashion a mold. She knew she would use a sleeve of acrylic to house the motors. Three! She would use three motors. One would 'agitate' the phallus, creating an up and down sensation even as the phallus itself did not actually move. One would rotate along the walls of the sleeve in a clockwise movement while the third would rotate in a counter-clockwise motion.

"Hello gorgeous," Wanda murmured, sketching out a thick phallus with several bumps along the shaft.

The length of the phallus was two hundred and fifty four millimeters with a circumference of two hundred millimeters. The surface was dotted with one hundred and twelve bumps raging in heights of three point five millimeters to six point five millimeters.

"Point zero five watts?" Wanda mused out loud, cursing her shaking hands.

"Fuck it!" she declared, marching to the kitchen.

Now, with some alcohol stilling her writhing nerves, Wanda was able to work. Fashioning the acrylic sleeve first, Wanda then created the mold, referring to her notes only once. Slipping her magnifying goggles on, Wanda began to assemble the mini-motors that would power her pleasure device.

Looking up, Wanda saw that it was two thirty in the afternoon. Staggering slightly, she waddled to the kitchen, only to discover that she needed to go to the garage for more vodka.

"Lunch. Need to eat lunch," she insisted and made herself two grilled cheese sandwiches. Then she ate a pint of Burns & Burns store brand Mint Chocolate Chip ice cream.

"Need to put some clothes on," Wanda said, looking down at her sexy sleepwear.

After her meal, after a shower, Wanda felt more human. She felt more in control of her faculties. And, after refilling her insulated mug with more vodka and Pecan Pralines liqueur, she felt energized.

Going need to cushion that," Wanda decided as the first motor loudly thumped on the anti-static electricity mat.

She fashioned a second sleeve of silicone that would fit within the acrylic sleeve.

"ANAL!" Wanda cried out.

Wanda's one and only experience with sex had been at the Sigma Rho Iota Fraternity at Walchester University. Someone had pressed a cup of sweet but potent punch into her pudgy hand. Someone had pressed a second cup of the nearly lethal alcohol into her hand and she'd guzzled it. Then she found herself on her back, jeans and panties wadded up on the floor, blouse and bra shoved up around her throat.

Seventeen cocks pounded her raw pussy that night. Twelve of the boys did not bother using condoms. The eighteenth boy had looked at her sloppy pussy, oozing copious loads of semen and flipped Wanda onto her belly. The young man used the semen that had trickled over her anus as lubrication as he pounded her backdoor. Wanda had screamed out in orgasm. Then, when he finished, she demanded another drink.

She couldn't drink for two weeks; she needed to give the penicillin time to clear up the STD one or two of the guests had given to her. When Wanda had been cleared, she sought out the eighteenth young man. The young man pretended he did not know her. He claimed he'd been somewhere else, anywhere else the night of the Sigma Rho Iota party.

Taking a hefty gulp of her drink, Wanda sketched out a cone shaped phallus. The rounded tip had a circumference of one hundred and twenty millimeters and ended with a circumference of two hundred and twenty five millimeters. Wanda deduced a 'T' shaped flange would be practical. A two millimeter wide ridge spiraled from tip to base on a twenty degree incline along the two hundred and fifty four millimeter length of the dong, ending just before the flange. The height of the ridge was four millimeters; Wanda shivered as she imagined corkscrewing the buzzing dong into her bowels.

While she waited for the two Pyrex designs to be ready, Wanda installed the three motors into one sleeve. All three motors were fully charged and Wanda used free standing dials to control the various motors' speeds. She gasped as the devise practically jumped from the anti-static mat.

"Too much, too much," she laughed, rapidly reducing the intensity.

Even at half speed, the device thumped forcefully and twisted back and forth on the mat. Wanda picked the sleeve up and grunted as it shook forcefully in her hand.

"Oh good God!" she grunted as she pressed the sleeve against her breast.

The base of 'Mr. Bumpy' had three thumb wheels to control the speeds of the three motors. The 'T' flange of 'Mr. Twisty' presented a slight challenge until Wanda mounted the thumb wheels on the top of the flange.

Three days later, Palmer Goodwin, Wanda's attorney roused Wanda from a drunken slumber. He relayed the good news; once more, she was a millionaire. The WMB PRO was expected to be the one appliance no restaurant would be without.

"See? Can't be no alcoholic," Wanda assured herself. "Who ever heard of an alcoholic millionaire?"

Looking at the snowdrifts through her bedroom window, Wanda again wondered if enough time had elapsed; she was homesick.

"Oh! Oh, Momma's babies got to be ready!" Wanda decided.

Opening the mold for 'Mr. Bumpy,' Wanda shivered at the beautiful design. She'd incorporated a mixture of pink and brown dye into the glass, creating a more or less flesh colored hue to the shell of the device.

"Oh, baby, Mommy's going have so much fun with you," Wanda enthused as she mixed the epoxy to firmly set the acrylic sleeve into the shell.

Planting a kiss to the rounded tip of the phallus, Wanda set it aside to dry. She then opened the mold to free 'Mr. Twisty' from his confines. She had mixed a glossy black dye into the mixture, knowing the dark color would help mask some of the unfortunate residue that would adorn the device after anal insertion.

The acrylic shell and flange was affixed and Wanda wobbled to the kitchen to make herself two grilled cheese sandwiches. Stalling for time, Wanda also ate a kale salad before fixing herself a drink, her third or fourth drink of the day.

For the second time this week, the power went out. Apparently, a substation somewhere was being overtaxed and had blown. Declaring she'd had more than enough of snow and ice and cold, Wanda grabbed her cell phone and began scouring the Oakleaf Dispatch's on-line Classifieds, looking for real estate in Oakleaf, Texas. Even the lights and heater coming on thirty minutes later did not stop Wanda's search.

Of course, after another drink, Wanda decided she liked her house too much to just throw it away. She fell asleep on one of her couches in her living room, watching a reality show.

"Come on, Sweetheart, Mommy's tired of waiting," Wanda said the next morning as she grabbed Mr. Bumpy.

She knelt on her bed and twisted the thumb wheels to one quarter speed. Even at this low setting, the beast hummed and shook forcefully in her hand. Allowing the rounded tip to brush against her inner folds caused Wanda to gasp out loud.

"Oh, oh mother fucker, mother fucker that, that is good," Wanda groaned as she could feel each and every 'wart' along the shell as more and more of the device pushed up into her.

She had less than one hundred millimeters inside of her before the first orgasm rippled through her. She had one hundred and fifty millimeters inside of her when the second orgasm pummeled her insides. By the time she had the entire beast inside of her, Wanda's insides were jelly. She could just barely summon the strength to work the fat dong from her pussy. Tremor after tremor shook her to her core as she wrested the Mr. Bumpy from her depths.

"FUCK!" she declared out loud, shutting off the powerful dong.

After a few more drinks, Wanda decided to brave the Mr. Twisty. Lying back on her bed, greased fingers plumbing her rectum did get her ready for the anal adventure. Sliding the settings to ten percent power, Wanda pressed the rounded tip against her tightly clenched anus. Pushing as if she needed to poop, Wanda slowly worked the dong into her bowels. Gritting her teeth, she used the 'T' shaped flange to work the powerful beast into her guts. As she thrust the cone shaped phallus into herself, that welcome feeling of being stuff steadily increased with each millimeter. She could feel the raised edge of the spiral rasping against her rectal walls as the phallus entered her.

"Oh fuck, I'm in love," she hissed, sitting up to drive the last one hundred and twenty millimeters into herself.

Simply running her fingers over her clitoris was enough to cause Wanda to shriek out in climax. Flopping back against her mound of pillows, Wanda reached between her legs and increased the speed of the first motor, the motor that pulsed and pounded against the tip of the phallus.

"Oh God. Oh dear God," Wanda wheezed as she felt a monumental orgasm welling up in her guts.

After two more drinks, Wanda decided to try both Mr. Bumpy and Mr. Twisty together. Once more stuffing her bowels full of Mr. Twisty, Wanda steadily increased the power of the anal toy until her vision was blurred. Then, she turned her Mr. Bumpy on and hurried to drive the beast home.

Coming to, Wanda giggled weakly; apparently this was more than her senses could handle. Groaning, she reached between her legs and flicked the thumb wheels until her Mr. Bumpy silenced. Then she gripped the end and worked the thick member from her splayed pussy.

"And big like I am? I can't handle it? There's no way an itty bitty little thing like my sister would ever be able to survive," Wanda mused as she began to work the Mr. Twisty from her guts.

"Okay," Wanda said, grimacing slightly as she cleaned her toys. "Three models. The classic will have a single motor. The, the, hmm, the Step Two will have two motors and the Dominator, no, no, the Beast will have three motors."

After a drink, Wanda designed two sizes; the Brute was fifty millimeters less in circumference and twenty five millimeters shorter in its length. The Monster was what she held in her two hands; a full two hundred and fifty millimeters in length and with a hefty girth to it.

She also decided to make silicone and Pyrex models available. Wanda had taken some Business Administrative courses as well as Statistics Analysis courses. Setting a price point of $149.99 for the Monster Mr. Bumpy in flesh colored Pyrex; the Brute model was $139.99. The Monster Twisty was $139.99 and the Brute Twisty sold for $129.99. Across the board, the silicone models carried the same price tag per model.

Wanda contacted Palmer Goodwin and sent him the prototype of the BiggsToys web site. Just as he had done before, Palmer again stated that Wanda needed to move her laboratory from her home, especially if she would also begin manufacturing.

"No, no; you need to find someone that will manufacture this; like I have any time to work on any of this?" Wanda said as she typed out her response to Palmer's email.

Through his contacts in Aitchel, Ohio, Palmer found a small replacement windows manufacturing plant that had just declared bankruptcy. With the 'go-ahead-from Wanda, Palmer and the grandson of the owner struck up a deal. The grandfather decided he'd had his belly full of seventy and eighty hour work weeks so left the business to his grandson. The father, presumably the next in line to inherit the factory had decided years earlier that he had a calling to join a monastery in Slovenia. Renouncing all earthly goods, including his twelve year marriage, the man became a monk.

(The grandfather smirked; his son had flown first class from Aitchel, Ohio to Slovenia-so much for fully renouncing all trappings of wealth.)

The first two months, sales were sluggish, limping along. Then, seventy three days after becoming BiggsToys, Charles Chalmers was contacted by Johnathon 'Moose' Savelle, the owner/operator of Their Private Saddles, a furniture company in Jack's Creek, Louisiana. Using Palmer Good win as a liaison, Moose and Charles arrived at a deal and Charles had to hire nine more people to his labor force, including a very cute, very bubbly red headed pixie named Donna Dayton.

Wanda continued to tinker with various devices. One she had high hopes for was electric nipple clamps. The idea had come to her when she watched a young man help another motorist in the parking lot of the local supermarket. When the first young man touched the two battery clamps together, there was a brief shower of sparks and Wanda felt her pussy grow wet.

Abandoning the sketches and equations for the moment, Wanda went to the kitchen. The bottle of Nulough's had less than a jigger of vodka in it so Wanda went to the utility closet to fetch another bottle of Nulough's Brown Sugar vodka.

"Damn it!" Wanda cursed, seeing that the closet contained no more bottles of her vodka.

"What? What the hell?" Wanda asked herself when her jeans refused to zip up, refused to button.

"I cannot... I need to get on a treadmill or something," Wanda told herself as she slipped on a floral print Mumu.

The first package store did not have any Nulough's Brown Sugar vodka in stock. The second package store had only two half-gallons of the sought after elixir but had no Mark's Pecan Praline Liqueur. A third package store had three half-gallons of the Nulough's Brown Sugar vodka and nine quart sized bottles of the Mark's Pecan Praline Liqueur.

Wanda felt nothing as she blew through a red light. The old woman had Macular Degeneration and a suspended license; she should not have been behind the wheel of her beloved Cadillac. But at three times the legal limit, Wanda should not have been behind the wheel of her mini-van.

Upon learning of his client's death, Palmer scoured his files, searching for any indication of whom Wanda might have left her business to. He was overjoyed when he found no indication of any will; he hoped to pick the business up as an uncontested receivership.

Graham Puellar dashed Palmer Goodwin's hopes when he showed the New Jersey attorney that Wanda Margaret Biggs had indeed prepared a last will and testament eight months prior to her passing. The document had been registered and was currently filed with the Oakleaf County Courthouse.

"Any and all properties have been bequeathed to Whitney Margaret Biggs, eighteen year old sister to one Wanda Margaret Biggs; including all intellectual properties," Graham Puellar intoned.

**..**

In her small suite in the Grand Walchester Hotel, Whitney pulled her redden eyes from the well-stocked but very pricey minibar when her cell phone chimed. A simple text message with a phone number was on the screen. Recognizing the area code as an Oakleaf phone number, Whitney called the phone number and learned of her deceased sister's last will and testament.

Deciding that her black dress from her sister's funeral would suffice for a meeting with the two attorneys, Whitney gave in to temptation and grabbed a bottle of Iron Barrel Whiskey from the hotel's minibar. Lying on the bed, Whitney drank straight from the bottle as she idly flipped through the vast expanse of television stations available. She did think briefly of checking her email; she'd let her five professors know her only living relative had passed away and she needed to attend to her sister's matters.

"Fuck it," Whitney said out loud and took another slug from the bottle. "Shit will still be there tomorrow."

At the meeting the following morning, a severely hung over Whitney learned how her sister had been able to pay for Whitney's exorbitant tuition at GW Norris University in Eastblanc, Nebraska. Whitney had first thought to attend Connelly College in their home state but Wanda had immediately nixed that idea.

Looking around at her sister's home, her new home, Whitney decided she'd transfer her two semesters' credits from GW Norris to Walchester and begin attending Walchester the next semester.

"God," Whitney breathed, overwhelmed with both the crushing loss and her sudden wealth.

"Wonder if she has any whiskey," Whitney mused, searching Wanda's kitchen cabinets.

The End

**..**

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

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

Wanda Biggs, her baby sister Whitney Biggs and their mother Peggy are briefly mentioned in 'Vulgar Display of Power' in the Incest/Taboo category. Actually, Wanda and Whitney are mentioned but not named in that tale. Ronald Biggs, their father, and Wendy Biggs, the eldest daughter are primary characters in that tale.

Milt Duhon, the first chef to endorse the WMB Food Preparation Station is the primary character in 'On Channel 12' in the Loving Wives category. He does make sporadic appearances in other tales centered in the greater DeGarde, Louisiana area.

Honey Bee, the on-air radio personality that endorsed the WMB Food Preparation Station is a major character in '92.9 KITN, The Kitten That Roars' in the Lesbian Sex category.

Johnathon 'Moose' Savelle, the owner/operator of Their Private Saddles, is the primary character in '101 Avila Road' in the Toys & Masturbation category.

Graham Puellar, Wanda's attorney is briefly mentioned in 'Dance on Your Knees Pt. 02' in the Interracial Love category.

And as the proprietor of the liquor store tells Wanda, Nulough's is pronounced New Lows. If you're drinking this slop, you've reached new lows in your alcohol consumption. And, certainly you should not drink and drive.

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