Chapter 7

After that, of course, we fucked again; I made Karen blow me for a while, sitting in my office chair, but I didn't shoot in her mouth. Instead, I hauled her up and took her to the bedroom to finish the job. I had her squat over me and I worked her with a vibrator until pussy juice dribbled from her and she made hot noises around my dick. "Okay, you got yours," I told her, "Now work it -- I'm timing you! You've got three minutes -- if you're such an expert, you should be able to get me off in that time -- and if you can't, you're gonna sleep in the basement!"

My intent was to get her to fail, but she turned the intensity way up, gobbling me right down -- and she might not have made it in time, but I was so distracted I didn't notice! I blew my nut wedged in her throat with her nose snuffling my balls -- tough to complain about a lack of commitment under those circumstances. I was tired, anyway -- better to chain her up in the basement when we both could enjoy it. I hauled her ass against me and went to sleep.

Friday morning I sent the Moffat clan home and headed out to do some serious business for once. I visited the bank, my bookkeeper, my property manager, and drove by a rental to make sure things were looking good. After that, groceries, lunch, assorted other errands and home by three. After I put the groceries away, I went over to hit up Michael. "How did it go?"

"Killer! Mom's suffering -- THAT's for sure! I need to find a way to get a look in her room, but I KNOW she was doing herself like crazy!"

"Well, that's cool and all, but it doesn't get her where I want her," I muttered. "What about Heather?"

"No guess," Michael muttered. "She's just too secretive."

“Well, I'll lay off for a couple of days, I guess, so you guys can come over again, eventually.”

“Cool. I'll rag her,” Michael replied. “She hasn't admitted why we've been forbidden to go over again.”

As things turned out, I had to change tactics for the third time in twenty-four hours. At about a quarter to four, I got a telephone call. “Cletus?”

“Yes. Who is this?”

“It's Amy.”

“Amy!” I was genuinely pleased. “I was afraid that your tiff with Heather would end our association!”

“Well, you know how it is -- I know the ropes at work and we really hit it off and she needs a role model...” (I snorted at this) “And her mother is being a twat again, so I CERTAINLY wasn't REALLY the cause of the problem...” Amy giggled.

“I gather she's not standing there.”

“Nope. She's talking to her girlfriend Kate, I think.”

“What about?”

“A sleepover -- at your house.”

“Never gonna happen,” I replied, “Jean won't stand for it.”

“We're gonna make her,” Amy replied. “Do you REALIZE how HOT it is?”

“Well, yeah, I've heard rumors...” I chuckled. We'd actually gotten a two day respite -- all the way down to the mid-eighties -- just enough to make today's 105 unbearable. “How do you plan to manage this feat of black magic?”

“We're gonna put it all together -- five or six of us -- then we're gonna spring it on her. When she complains, we're gonna want to know why...”

I laughed. “She won't tell you -- but Michael will if you ask him. He'll probably enjoy it.”

“Want to share?”

“Let Michael tell Heather. I've been fucking women on the back deck -- and Jean's been watching and jilling off.”

“Oooooo! I LIKE that! That'll be PERFECT when we make her be the chaperone and keep an eye on old Evil Cletus...” Amy cackled.

“I wish you luck!”

“She'll be between a rock and a hard dick!” Amy laughed.

“Well, I'll play if you can swing it -- normal rules for the pool, though!”

“Yeah, we'll need to give you your eye-candy!” Amy giggled.

“What are YOUR plans?”

“Girl fun.”

“Yeah, that works. Who gets spillover?”

“Michael?”

“He would no doubt be forever grateful,” I mused. “That reminds me -- if Heather is still talking to Kate, have her call me.”

“How well do you know Kate?” Amy asked archly.

“Well enough to know that she's a soft target -- and that properly read in, she'll help you,” I replied.

“She hasn't beaten me to you, has she?”

“No, but her momma has.”

“Oho! Got to go -- I'll want to catch Heather before she hangs up!”

“Don't forget permission slips!”

“Right!”

I went out to buy more air mattresses. While I was at the store, Kate called. “Hi.”

“Hi. I hear you've been invited to a slumber party.”

“Yeah...”

“At my house.”

“Uh huh. Your idea?” she asked.

“Nope, but I'm going along. Heather's new friend Amy wants to see if she can get in her panties and loosen her up. You should probably help, if you can get away with it. And while you're at it, you might go through your list of girlfriends for one who is susceptible -- and who has a little sister who is, too.”

“Oh! For Peter? Good idea!” Kate cooed.

“Yeah. Not fair for you girls to hog the place -- I'll stock the basement with hard dicks.”

“Um, gee, thanks...” I could tell that she was worried about what might happen if temptation overcame her. “What about Mom?”

“She gets in nice and late,” I replied. “She can leave her clothes on until she reports to me -- then, depending upon what is happening, we'll find her some entertainment.”

“Okay, I'll tell her.”

“Bye!” I hung up and went back to party planning and purchases.

I got home before Jean, which gave me an opportunity to be a fly on the wall using my directional microphone when Heather and Amy and Kate and some girl named Gina and her sister Joy and some OTHER girl named Holly let go on her. Not being able to tell anyone just WHY she'd made my house off-limits again made her come off as a total bitch -- and there were too many other girls present, frankly, to get away with it. Fobbing the whole thing off on me looked doable, so she tried it. “Have you even spoken to Cletus about this?”

“Amy called him -- right Amy?” Heather replied.

“What did he say?”

“He said it was all right with him if it was all right with you!”

“I think I'd better call him...”

I waited until the third ring to pick up. “Hello?”

“Cletus? It's Jean. Did Amy call you about some crazy sleepover idea?”

“Well, yeah -- I mean, it's hotter than Hell again, you know -- I can see them wanting to keep cool.”

“What are you going to do with a half-dozen teenage girls trooping around your house?” Jean asked.

“Stay out of the way, I figure,” I replied. “Besides, they said something about you being around to chaperone...”

“What?”

“Well, nobody's gonna be any too excited about me hosting a bunch of young girls alone! I figured I'd park Michael and Pete in the basement so they didn't suffer -- it's fully finished... You can keep an eye on me to make sure I don't drool on 'em too much. I think it's a grand plan. I laid in some drinks and chips and burgers and stuff -- might as well whoop it up...”

“And adult swim?”

“Just how many teenage girls do you think I can catch and fuck at one time?” I asked, “Especially with you dragging me back? It won't hurt 'em to get wet in public -- we can keep the boys off 'em. It's good exercise -- gets the juices flowing.”

“They don't need to have THOSE juices flowing!”

“Yeesh! Not EVERYBODY is shut off, you know!” I complained.

“No kidding!” Jean rasped.

I chuckled. “You noticed, no doubt, that I've only corrupted the older generation.”

“Well... You and that Jacuzzi...”

“You're welcome to tell 'em it's off limits, but it might make a couple of 'em happy.”

“Cletus! You're a horror!”

“Yep. Put your suit on and get your fanny over here so you can defend the youth of America from me...” I hung up.

Even Heather knew her mother was screwed. “We're in!” she yelped. The resulting uproar was impossible to shut off by denying everything; Jean started trying to apply damage control. “Cletus won't let you over there without permission slips!” Everybody had one. “He'll call to confirm these! In fact...” Jean called -- which legitimized everything. What an idiot... As for adult swim, the girls all knew, even if their parents didn't -- and there was such a thing as going too far... Jean was stuck -- and probably the worst of it was she had to face me, knowing what I knew...

It was a quarter after six when everyone came trooping in. Heather would no doubt be in trouble for presenting her mother with a situation she couldn't get out of, but that would happen later. For now, she was all smiles -- and given the fact that she probably knew why I'd been put off limits, she had a weapon to use in defense, if not attack. I played genial host, arranging things, showing the girls the setup, handing out sodas and such. Dinner would wait until it was cooler -- eight-thirty, probably. Karen dropped Pete off and he and Michael hung back, watching the girls with hungry eyes and talking among themselves. I wandered over and gathered them up. “Okay, we're kicking this off low-key,” I told them. “Michael, did Heather ask you why her mother has been balky?”

“Yeah,” he grinned.

“Did you tell all?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. Right now, your mama is the enemy -- but she's slipped up and we may be able to pin her ears back. You guys need to show some restraint during the early going; Amy will probably be a ringleader and drive stuff your way. Take what you're given and don't get too grabby or greedy, so your mama doesn't feel like she has to step in, and it'll pay dividends. I'm gonna stick you guys in the basement -- there's a TV and a DVD player, and I stuck some porn on the shelf. Cover your asses and don't do any fuck-buddy stuff until everything quiets down -- but keep an eye out, because I hope to feed you some pussy, so you won't have to fall back on each other.” Both of them gave me this look that said they weren't sure they wanted female company, so I grunted, “Trust me -- it's worth it. Save each other for a fall-back plan. That way you KNOW you're gonna get SOMETHING and it'll help you handle other shit.”

“Okay.” Pete nodded. Michael took in this evidence of cooperation and cocked his head, then nodded, too.

Jean pounced as I was leaving the boys. “What was THAT all about?”

“I was briefing them on the arrangements and telling them to behave themselves so you don't bust things up,” I replied gruffly. “Nobody wants you to get excited and queer this thing for them. Nobody.”

“Cletus...”

“No, I'm not taking any shit. You behave yourself -- nobody is going to get fucked in the swimming pool. If you want shit to go right, you can set an example, instead of making like the Gestapo. If you were to show the kids that being naked is just being short some clothing instead of an incitement to riot that requires billy-clubs and stun-guns, they might react with a little decorum.”

Jean took the rebuke like a slap in the face. “I -- I...”

“Do you REALLY think I arranged to have a half-dozen young girls over to my house just so I could perv on them and fuck them one by one? How exactly am I going to make that work? Are they gonna line up at my bedside? Who's gonna force-feed me Viagra so I can get through them all? Jeezus, Jean!”

“Well, you're gonna look,” Jean replied feebly.

“Yeah, I'm gonna look. And they're looking forward to it. They're looking forward to having Michael and Pete look, too, despite the fact that they're going to pretend that the boys are hopelessly young and not a serious threat. Some of them are going to be showing skin for the first time to a male -- and they're going to be looking for a positive response. Can't you see that this might be a GOOD thing?”

“You want something from me.”

“You betcha. I want you to skin down and park your cute butt in a deck chair in plain sight and preside over things like the Queen of Sheba. I want you to pretend you're still clothed and not act like your nipples can't stand the light of day or something. The more casually you handle things, the more casually they will and the sooner they'll move on to just doing the usual pool shit.”

“I don't know...”

“I'm not asking you to spread your legs and scratch your twat in public -- I'm saying act ladylike, so the girls have an example.”

“Cletus! My God!”

“Okay, what were you planning? Splashing around with a whistle and a butterfly net?”

“What are YOU planning to do?”

“I'll spend considerable time in the water, because my pecker is less of a target there,” I replied. “But I'll be in and out -- I probably will have to be -- and when I'm out, I'll try not to be a major distraction -- mostly by not drawing attention to myself by wandering around covering my package like I've been kicked in the balls.”

“Why should I put myself on display?”

“Worried about Michael and Pete?”

“Well, some. I'm going to get ogled.”

“One thing I've learned very clearly is that women LIKE being ogled. Handle it as if you're wearing a suit. Being ogled is a compliment -- you can handle compliments, right?”

“Well, yes.”

“You don't REALLY think one of them is gonna fly out of the pool and throw you on your back and fuck you, do you?”

“Well, no.”

“Then WHAT is the fucking problem?” I rasped.

“Cletus, somewhere buried in this situation is a nefarious plan that's going to get you sex from SOMEBODY -- I just KNOW it!” Jean insisted.

“You mean, like, the strip poker tournament later?” I teased.

“WHAT?”

“Gotcha.”

“Arrgh!” She took a swing at me. How come it's okay for a woman to swat a man for something he said, but not vice-versa? Why is it NOT assault and battery when THEY do it, but it IS when WE do it?

“Hey!” Ultimately, I let it ride -- because that kind of thing usually means the woman assumes that she has enough of a relationship with you to 'correct' you. But I took note; one day I would paddle her ass for her -- maybe tonight.

“All right,” she promised, “We'll try it your way.”

“Thank you SOOO much!” I retorted, somewhat miffed, and headed off to collect my assortment of large beach towels.

When I got back, it was clear that the girls were antsy -- Amy, in particular, kept eyeing her watch. I put the towels out by the pool and came back in -- and it seemed that we were all awaiting the witching hour... It was too late to swim any amount of time without drifting over into Adult Swim, so I decided to take the bull by the horns. Clapping my hands, I announced, “Ladies! If you would gather in the TV Room, I'd like to discuss a few things!” I picked up Jean with my eyes and they all trooped in. I waved the boys forward, too, and settled them off-side in the room. “All right -- I assume that you're all aware of the most notorious of the house rules?” There was general assent. “Well, for anyone confused, I'm going to spell it out again. In a very few minutes, it will be seven p.m. -- at which point, the Adult Swim rule goes into effect. For those of you who don't read the fine print, that means all swimming will be in the nude. Note that I said 'nude', not 'nekkid.' The whole reason I do this -- despite rumors to the contrary -- is that I'm a naturist, and I believe that the human body is a beautiful thing in all of its variety, and that you should be unself-conscious about operating in the skin you were born with, instead of acting like not being covered from neck to toes in cloth is somehow dirty. How many of you have piercings and wear body jewelry?” Amy and Holly raised their hands. ”I assume you did this for display purposes -- you want your body parts to be seen and enjoyed. Every one of you is wearing something that exposes skin -- why? Because you want to be seen and admired and have people pay attention to you. Nudity is no more than an extension of this NORMAL desire to display oneself -- it's just a full-body display. The purpose is for you to become comfortable with your body. This...” I doubled up and locked my knees together and pretended I was trying to cover titties with one arm and my privates with another, “... isn't sexy -- it's scared and ashamed. When I look around me in this room, I see NO ONE who should be scared and ashamed.” At that point, I had everyone -- even Jean. “Now, I have asked the gentlemen present not to act as if they're in a strip bar, in order to reduce your initial embarrassment -- unless, of course, you WANT that kind of attention...” I grinned. “In fact, let's talk about that. How many of you are under the impression that strippers are hookers?” Several hands went up. “That's a myth -- propagated mostly by women who don't know any better because they've never been to a strip bar. The reality is that strippers SELDOM engage in sex with their audience -- financially, they have no need to, because they're well paid and even better tipped. Strippers also perform a public service by providing men who have no sexual outlets -- and many times no emotional outlets -- with visual interaction, conversation, and perhaps a soft touch. They keep lonely guys from becoming so frustrated and alienated that they do terrible things to women as revenge for the damage done to them. Frankly, prostitutes perform some of the same services, despite the abuse other women heap upon them. Are you aware that there are highly civilized countries in Europe where prostitution is legal -- and taxed? WE made prostitution a crime -- largely because a certain segment of the populace feels threatened by the idea that men might be able to obtain sex fairly easily.” I pretended innocence, “Gee, I wonder why that would be true?” I got a giggle or two. “Frankly, I think all you girls should go to a strip club some time -- and look around. What you'll see is a bunch of very lonely guys relaxing -- and many of them will be looking at YOU, because you're NOT a 'professional' and you're open-minded enough to be there! Now, I've heard the argument that a lot of married men go to strip bars, and that's a terrible thing. What does that signal? Anyone? It says his wife isn't giving him something. That something may be sex -- but it may just be someone sympathetic to talk to. It may be spice in his life. Basically, if you feel threatened by women in a strip bar, you need to look at YOURSELF and ask your man what you aren't giving him!”

I waved a hand. “Sorry, I got off track. One thing guys get in strip bars is a visual celebration of the female body denied him just about everywhere else -- except naturism. If a guy wants to see womankind in all of its infinite and beautiful variety, he either has to sit in a bar and pay an arm and a leg for drinks for the privilege, or he can go to a nudist resort -- except they are few and far between, because our Puritan ancestors were EXTREMELY hung up and the cycle has perpetuated itself to this day. Europeans are a LOT more open about sex than we are -- even the British, who gave us some of our hang-ups, have shaken theirs. The point here is that exposing your body is only as dirty as you pretend it is -- or the person looking does. Yes, it's sexy -- so? Some people will tell you that lingerie makes you sexier, because it obscures things while hinting at them. You CAN -- and SHOULD -- be able to go nude without feeling that you're inviting being sexually molested. Unfortunately, places where this is possible are extremely limited. My house, however, is one of them. Now, I'm not going to tell you that sex doesn't go on here -- but I WILL tell you that it isn't just because you hit the old swimming hole without a suit!”

“Swimsuits aren't a condom -- they don't provide any magical protection from being molested in the pool,” I continued. “You can pull aside the crotch of a swimsuit pretty readily, if you like. And of course, there's the 'accidental' loss of a strap that occurs occasionally...” I quoted 'accidental' with my fingers and got a giggle. “Some swimsuits follow the lingerie pattern and are an incitement to riot in and of themselves, as I'm sure you're aware...” I got another giggle. “Obviously, if you're wearing something like that, you WANT attention -- why not just go whole hawg? Never mind...” I waved it off. “I know the answer -- plausible deniability. You can wave a red flag in front of a bull and then say innocently, 'Oops! It's my jacket...' But, you know, sometimes the bull charges anyway... You're just as likely to get molested in a swimsuit as you are nude -- at least in MY pool!”

I glanced around. “Okay, knowing the rules, how many of you are NOT planning on swimming? Raise your hands...” A couple of the girls looked around, but they weren't raising their hands -- too much peer pressure. “Let's talk about entry and exit strategies, then. I don't care how you get there -- you just must be nude within a minute or so of hitting the water. Some girls wear their suits to get in, then remove them -- which is okay, but I think it's dumb to get your suit wet for ninety seconds. I provide big beach towels -- you can get undressed under them and shed the towel at the pool's edge. This is perfectly acceptable -- and some girls like it better than stripping at the edge of the pool. Last but not least, you can take everything off at the pool's edge -- with or without bump and grind music -- your choice!” I grinned and got a nervous giggle. “Actually, if you WANT bump and grind music, please notify me in advance, so I can set up for it. I'm taking the guys outside now -- I know they flat don't care, one way or the other, whether they hit the water in trunks or not -- it's a guy thing. You girls discuss how you want to do things and send someone out for however many towels you need.” I waved at Jean. “They're all yours to ruin as you like...”

Jean grimaced. “After that discourse, I'll seem like the Wicked Witch of the West if I go around instilling fear and loathing in them...”

I just looked at her. “I won't stop you if you feel you must.” I nodded at the guys and we headed out. As I was hitting the door, Amy yelled, “Cletus?”

“Yes?”

“Can you have some bump and grind music available, just in case?”

I laughed. “Sure. I'll come up with something.” I'd been kidding; this was going to take some scrambling around. “Hit the water, guys -- I have to hunt down some music, it looks like.”

Michael grunted, “Probably a waste of time. Mom will shut THAT off.”

“Your mother really doesn't have a grip on Amy,” I informed him, “and she's an ally. You never know.” Michael shrugged and nodded.

I had maybe ten minutes, so I hunted down “Simply Irresistible” and “Hot Legs” -- they were the best I could think of. I queued them up on the MP3 player and piped the output to the deck, wondering if I'd just wasted the time, then threw on my towel kilt and headed outside to plop on a deck chair. “Guys,” I told the boys. “Polite applause might work for the ones just going into the water, but you can get noisy if somebody wants to show off. Understood?” I got nods; the guys would play ball. They had everything to gain and nothing to lose.

A couple of minutes later, the girls trooped out, led by Jean -- who wore a towel, and gracefully divested herself of it and settled into a chair as serenely as I could have hoped. Heather followed, dropping her towel and moving into the water as quickly as the temperature allowed. I clapped politely, and the boys followed suit; Heather blushed furiously, but smiled. Jean gave me a look, but we'd kept things decorous.

Amy was next. Jean frowned, which kept me from being surprised when Amy said, “Cletus, did you find any music?”

I evinced surprise, “Um yeah - it's not perfect, but...”

Start it, please?” I did so, and turned back to look. Amy was still fully dressed under the towel, which she dumped immediately as the song started.

It wasn't a professional striptease -- it was more just getting undressed -- but Amy took her time getting out of her blouse and waggled her chest when her bra came off and turned her back to the pool and bent to pull down her panties. The guys clapped and whistled for her. Jean thought it was horrible, I could tell, and Kate got out of line and left; I wondered what THAT meant.

Holly, a rounded redhead with an incredible number of freckles and one of those odd noses with the bulb on the end and a dimple on top, went next, just doffing her towel and descending as Heather had. I'd cut the music when Amy hit the water, so she got her polite applause; I reined the boys in with my eyes.

Gina came next. Gina and her little sister were both tall, husky brown skinned girls with that odd shape that allowed them to stand with their knees together and their feet apart. Gina was a tad bigger than Joy -- and a lot braver, it seemed to me; she compromised by throwing out her chest and wiggling it a bit as she entered the water after merely doffing a towel, displaying fine set of brown-nippled breasts. The guys took their cue from me, and I saw no reason not to reward her with a bit more enthusiasm.

Joy kept her head down, getting out of her towel and into the water more or less in record time, giving off a little shriek from the impact of the water temperature on her rush. We responded in the expected subdued manner.

Kate reappeared, fully dressed and carrying her towel. I wondered if that meant she was going home -- but instead, she said, “Cletus, is there any more music?”

“Sure,” I agreed, and triggered 'Hot Legs.'

I was amazed - Kate actually danced! Oh, it wasn't a pro strip, either, but she strutted a little and waved her blouse and her titties jiggled and she made some moves that left Jean aghast and us males ecstatic. Amy applauded as much as the guys did -- and Heather and Gina joined in, too, although they were obviously shocked at a couple of Kate's more dramatic moves. I got a GOOD look at Kate's little furburger -- and I wasn't positioned well, being more or less behind the stage. Once she was in the pool -- and she took her time -- Kate turned a big smile on me and said, “Great choice in music!”

“Thanks!” I chuckled. I glanced at Jean, but she was still composing herself. “No one has been hurt, here,” I noted quietly.

“Yes, yes -- I was just surprised...”

“They're already settling down,” I pointed out. The girls were gathered in their location -- carefully selected to keep them chest-deep -- chattering, and the guys were in the shallows, watching them and talking among themselves. I stood and waited a second or two to allow anyone who was going to look to get themselves organized and declared, “I don't do music,” dropped my towel and proceeded in my usual stately manner into the pool.

I got applause.