Chapter 32
More Object Lessons -- and Velma Gets a Visitor

Nora was ready when Nate wheeled up in front of the mansion; she climbed in, and Nate headed for the hospital. Nate was pensive; after a quick peck on her cheek, he was quiet for several minutes.

Finally, Nora opened up with, "Was the job that bad?"

"No, it was okay. Nothin' super-duper, but a lot better than nothin'." He sat quiet for a moment, then, "I'm wonderin' if I done wrong..."

"Why? What happened?"

"Well, it's complicated. I don't want you to tell your Daddy and have him land on the guys at work with both feet..."

"Are they doing something wrong?" Nora asked, concerned.

"Well, uh, no. Well, it would be, normally, but it didn't feel wrong in this case..."

"C'mon, Honey -- out with it. We'll try to keep Daddy out of it."

"Okay, well, the warehouse manager is doin' his secretary..."

"Really?" Nora shook her head. "Well, he's not hiding it very well if you found out on your first day..."

"They ain't hidin' it. Everybody knows -- in fact, the secretary likes to have two..."

"Nate..."

"Whoa! Don' go too far, here! Lemme finish!" Nate waved his hands.

"All right," Nora replied suspiciously, "Keep driving..."

"The secretary is a slut -- I ain't callin' names, here, SHE says she is!" Nate insisted. "An' she likes to, well, suck a little dick while the boss does her..." He held up a finger to forestall an outburst from the thunderclouds gathering over Nora. "She didn't get mine..." This backed things down quite a bit. "I never touched her, but..." Nora was waiting him out, but her expression was skeptical. "Okay, she likes to be watched, an' she likes to be told how skanky she is. I was there, and she asked me to, so I turned on my rap an' let her have it, 'bout as nasty as I could think of. It was only after she cum like a racehorse I got to thinkin' that maybe that was sex?" The question was punctuated with a nervous glance.

"You didn't touch her?"

"Uh uh. Made a point of tellin' her I was taken an' off limits -- polite, of course."

"So, you watched while she did what, exactly?"

"She was takin' it doggie-style an' blowin' a dude at the same time."

"And she asked you to call her dirty names?"

"Yeh. I rolled it up inta some wild shit, bein' staked out nekkid in the 'hood with 'Slut' tattooed on her tits an' takin' on whoever showed up, three at a time. 'Bout then she started to blow..."

"What does this woman look like?"

"Big, dark-haired Italian-lookin' bitch, thirty-five or forty. Not your movie star -- even porn flicks -- except maybe just on eagerness to please..."

"Uh huh." Nora could see Nate's problem; she couldn't decide whether she was mad or not, herself... "It was sex, Nate. After a fashion. I'd be very angry if she'd... serviced you..."

"I didn't touch her!" Nate insisted. "I told her no offense, but I had better at home and wasn't about to fuck it up!"

"I believe you." Nora rubbed Nate's back, feeling the dense muscles. "I honestly can't decide whether to tell you never to do it again or not... Does it seem likely she'll ask?"

"Mebbe," Nate grunted. "It seemed like it was the icing on the cake..."

"Was you being black part of it?"

"Well, it coulda been. But black dicks ain't new to her -- she was suckin' one."

"Oh?"

"Yeh. She only fucks the boss, but she's sucked mosta the dicks in the place, and 'bout half of 'em are black..." Nate shrugged.

"Okay." Nora thought about it. "This could go a bunch of ways -- I'm not sure how I feel about it. If she asks, you can talk nasty to her again -- don't volunteer! -- but if you let her suck you off, and I'm not standing there, obviously approving, I'm gonna be real mad!" She eyed him a moment. "And I reserve the right to change my mind about this at any time!"

"Okay." Nate wasn't dumb -- he was STILL in the doghouse.

"You told me, though, and that's big." Nora pecked him on the cheek. "And it WAS an... odd... situation. You're off the hook, for now..."

Nate's mother was in rare form when they showed up: "Huh! I figgered you wasn't comin'. I'm goin' NUTS in this fuckin' place!"

"Sorry, Mama -- I had to work."

"You WHAT? Since fuckin' when?"

"Since 'bout four o'clock. Got a job in a warehouse, loadin' and unloadin'."

"It fuckin' pay anythin'? This place is gonna be expensive..."

Nate shrugged. "Twelve-fifty. Don' worry 'bout this -- you're insured, since Nora's Pa decided you was."

"I wonder what the fuck THAT is gonna cost," Tabitha grumbled, flashing a glance at Nora. "You got any idea, Girl?"

Nora shrugged. "None. I'm surprised that he interfered at all; I think the reason was that you kind of implied that he was your protector, then Rodday ignored it. Daddy doesn't take insults well. That and, well, you're family..."

Tabitha gave her a jaundiced look, "Until YOU say otherwise..."

Nora turned an eye on Nate that told him that this evening's escapade wasn't over, and replied, "As long as Nate remembers to keep his... dick... where it belongs, we'll be fine..."

Tabitha sniffed something. "An' where's that?"

"In me!" Nora took the dare.

Tabitha chuckled. The girl had pluck! She'd expected 'In his pants!' "Boy, you in trouble fer sumpthin'?"

"Uh, sorta, maybe..." Nate sensed that he was being cornered. "I didn't fuck nobody."

Nora amplified, "The secretary at Nate's new job likes group sex. And she likes being talked nasty to and humiliated. Nate talked nasty to her."

Tabitha's head swiveled, "That's sex, Boy."

"I kinda figured, afterward. During, it was jus' runnin' my rap."

"You gave her what she wanted, an' she came -- right? If it'd been a business transaction, she'd owe you for it."

Nate nodded. If Mama said it was sex, it was. She'd know...

Tabitha looked at Nora and amplified, "Some johns just want to watch you play with yourself while they jack off." Nora went pink. "Sorry, Baby, I keep forgettin'..."

"It's okay. Daddy has been educating me. I know he gets off on dominating people, with or without sex..."

"You mad?" Tabitha asked.

"Uncomfortable. I know he didn't realize, until after. And he DID come to me with it right away. I'm not thrilled, but..."

"Too fuckin' late, right?"

"Yeah."

"What'd ya tell him ta do nex' time?"

"I told him that he could talk dirty to her IF she asked -- but if he did anything else without me standing there..."

"That was broadminded of ya," Tabitha opined. "Most gals woulda said, 'No, but FUCK no!'..." She turned a glare on Nate, who threw up his hands.

Nora smiled ferally. "Well, I might want to watch, sometime..."

Tabitha chuckled. "He's your first, ain't he?" Nora nodded. "An' I'm pretty sure 'bout the other end..." Nate nodded, too. "Ordinarily, I'd be tellin' ya both to try a coupla things so ya could tell love from sex -- but sometimes, that jus' muddies the water..."

"I think Daddy will be pressing for that, at some point," Nora offered.

Tabitha nodded. "Be up-front wit' each other." She flashed a glare at Nate, "You unnerstand, Boy? That don't mean afterwards!"

"Yeh," Nate nodded. "I got it."

"You get an opportunity, an' you cain't clear it with Mama," Tabitha's look identified Nora as 'Mama' -- not herself, "you keep your dick in your pants!"

"Yes'm."

"Awright." That subject closed, Tabitha moved on, "Why am I still here?"

"I dunno," Nate responded. Nora threw up her hands.

"I ain't got nuthin' life threatening," Tabitha declaimed. "Even insurance don't allow ya ta hang around takin' up valuable bed space. What the fuck? Call your Daddy."

Nora shrugged and went to the phone in the room. Flipping open her cell, she looked up the stored number and dialed it on the room phone, since cell phone use was not allowed on the ward.

"Wilson."

"Daddy?"

"Yes, Daughter?"

"Daddy, Nate's Mama wants to know why she's still in the hospital."

Armand ruminated a moment. "Give her the phone."

Nora handed off, wordless, to Tabitha. "Yeah?"

"I instructed the hospital staff to put some weight on you," Armand announced.

"Yeah?" Tabitha replied suspiciously, "An' what else?"

Armand rolled his eyes, "All right, they're treating your chemical dependency, too. I don't expect to win that one -- just back you off a bit. But if you MUST play with recreational chemicals, you'll feel better and be safer if you're less wasted. Besides," Armand's voice hardened, "you'll get a lot more johns if you don't look like a skeleton with a couple of saggy bags on it's chest."

Tabitha cackled. "I see you ain't tryin' ta reform me. There's gotta be cheaper places, though."

"True. But you're harder to get at in the hospital; if Pinkham is more of a fool than I think he is, you're safer, there."

"Wit' the people you got runnin'? You probly got a safe place ta stash me where I can get three hots an' a cot -- an' whatever you're pumpin' inta me ta clean me out..."

Armand considered this. "You're probably right -- but I didn't want you to feel like I was making a prisoner of your scrawny ass." The rough talk was deliberate; he knew Tabitha would appreciate it. "I'll send Matheson around in the morning, and we'll see what makes sense."

"Good! I like him. My pussy's startin' ta itch -- maybe I can get him ta road test it..." Tabitha chuckled.

Armand shook his head. "Tabitha, do you LIKE sex?"

"Well, yeah, when it ain't business," Tabitha replied. "It ain't big, since I get so much -- but I like havin' my clit diddled an' havin' my tube punched when I don' hafta worry 'bout whether the bastard doin' it is havin' a good time... Been a coupla days, now. I'm startin' ta have fond memories."

Armand chuckled. "We should talk sometime -- I'm sure it would be educational."

"Well, I ain't busy..."

Armand, still chuckling, hung up.

Tabitha looked up at Nora, "Your ol' man is a piece of work..."

"Yeah," Nora agreed. "You have no idea..."

"He calls a spade a spade, an' I like that..." Tabitha mused. "Good goddamn thing, since I figger I owe him an arm an' a leg..."

Nora shrugged. "He'll find a way for you to pay. And depending on how you feel about it, it won't be too bad..." She grinned ferally, "On the other hand, if you buck him, he'll get a big kick out of making it painful. It's his way."

"Yeh?"

"Yeah. Ask my mother..." Nora shook her head.

"Ask ANYBODY that lives at your house! Mama, he's got at least one outright slave runnin' 'round nekkid..." Nate blurted.

"That ain't as surprisin' as it might be," Tabitha grunted. "I met a coupla girls who said he broke 'em in -- an' they're specialists, both inta kink..."

"Yeah," Nora sighed. "I'm just learning about it, but Mom -- well, even though they're divorced, he's been using her as a training aid for years... Now that Nate and I are together, Daddy figures it's time I grew up and saw the real world. We moved back in last weekend, after the attack on Mom. For me, it's for the first time, but for Mom..." Nora shook her head. "Daddy makes no bones about the things he does -- there's even a room for it. He calls it 'the playroom'..."

Tabitha nodded. "Well, I don' think he's gotta clue what the fuck he's gonna do wit' the likes o' ME!" She shrugged, then winced. "I don't suppose you went out and got them nipple rings?"

'Fuck,' Nate thought to himself. "No, Mama."

"I did." Nora dug in her purse and came up with a case. Inside was a pair of small gold barbells. She handed Tabitha the box, "They're only plated, but it's all the money I had on me when I went to the mall after school."

"They'll do fine," Tabitha grunted, eyeing them.

Tabitha snapped a glare at Nate, but Nora chopped it off, "Nate was at work -- besides, this was better done by a woman."

Tabitha shrugged and nodded agreement. "Help me get this bandage off, then." She started digging at it, but the clips were around back.

Nora stepped up on one side, and waved Nate into position on the other, "Just raise your arms." Tabitha did so and Nora leaned in, disconnecting the clips, then began unwinding the bandage, rolling it as she went. When it got to the point of being out of reach, she handed it to Nate, who brought it around his side, but didn't roll it. Nora gave him a frowning glance as she rolled up the slack; on the next pass, Nate rolled, too. The dozen wraps were undone in no time, exposing the gauze packings covering the wounds on Tabitha's breasts, and, more important, her needle-impaled nipples. Nora got a look, cradling a breast gently and trying to rotate the needle, then reached in her purse, bringing forth a bottle. "Antiseptic solution." She dribbled a little on Tabitha's left nipple and went to work on the needle again.

"Shit burns," Tabitha grunted, hissing.

"It's the right stuff," Nora replied. "I asked."

"You're doin' fine." Tabitha fished a stud out of the jewelry box and handed it to Nate. "Open that -- I think it screws off."

Nora nodded. "They're not beginner's studs, because the hole size was wrong. Beginner's just click over a ring, like post earrings. We'll have to be a little more careful."

"You done good, Girl."

"We'll see." Maybe the bar was too thick? Nora was worried, but given the size of the needle, which must have been for quilting, or something...

Nate was standing there with it in two pieces; Nora took the stud and put the tip in contact with the not terribly sharp ball point of the needle, and began backing the needle out. Tabitha hissed and shifted a couple of times, but the stud followed the needle properly into her wounded nipple and out the other side. Nora applied another few drops of solution to the wound, then handed Nate the needle and held out her hand for the ball cover, which she then gently screwed on. "How's that?"

"It'll be fine when it stops burnin'," Tabitha hissed. "Do the other one."

Nora repeated the procedure, only realizing as she stepped back that she'd repeated the insertion exactly, rather than doing it mirror-image -- not that you could tell with the design of the studs. Besides, the guy who'd done it had pierced them both from right to left, anyway; to mirror image them, she'd have had to work the eye of the needle through the wound...

Tears were streaming, but Tabitha murmured, "Thank you, Child."

Nora smiled and picked up the wrap, and she and Nate began replacing it. Tabitha grunted, "Try ta do the nips last, and bring the end around so's I can open it. I think I wanta give 'em air..." Nora nodded, and the pair concentrated on covering the puncture wounds on the upper slopes of Tabitha's breasts and those in her ribs underneath. The change in wrappings allowed the clips to be set in Tabitha's left side. "Good. Awright, ya'll run along -- I ain't gonna be worth a shit fer awhile. Thanks fer comin'." As the pair hit the door, she said, "Boy, stay a minute." The look said she wanted to talk to Nate alone, so Nora stepped out to give them privacy, going to the elevator. Tabitha turned on Nate, "Look, you little dickhead! I'm impressed in spite of myself! That's a helluva girl you somehow tripped over, even settin' aside her daddy an' shit -- which I ain't sure I'm all that happy 'bout, anyway! Best you do right by her 'cause it don't look to me like they's better out there! You unnerstand, Boy?"

"Yes'm."

"Keep you're dick in your pants, 'cept when she says it's cool an' you'll be a happy motherfucker! I don' hafta ask if it's good shit, that's wrote all over your goofy face! Best you remember what it's like ta do without, if'n some other bitch waves her twat at ya!"

"Ma! That's my woman! I ain't fuckin' stupid!" Nate howled, stung.

"Well, you'd be the first man that wasn't!" Tabith shook her head. "Go on, get outta here! An' do sumpthin' nice fer her tonight, unnerstand? You're still inna doghouse!"

"Yes, Mama..." Nate rolled his eyes on the way out.

The elevator was just arriving. "What was that about?" Nora asked, as Nate joined her.

"Mama approves of ya," Nate grinned as the pair stepped inside.

The main dinner seating at the mansion, for Armand -- and to a lesser extent, Jason and Sharon -- had been uneventful, with quiet conversation about the status of things. The Wench knelt at Sharon's right, eating nothing and hoping that someone would think to feed her later; at one point, Armand looked up and wondered aloud why he had an overseer. Sharon's response of, "I don't know, Armand," brought a grin, but Jason pointed out that the Wench needed a training Master. "She'll get fat and lazy and be useless for her primary function in Sharon's care..."

Sharon glared at him, but conceded the possibility. "If her primary function is to be used as a fuck toy, you're probably right."

"That's what it is," agreed Armand, "Isn't it, Wench?"

"Yes, Master."

"Fine." Sharon's glance at the Wench labeled her 'traitor', but the slave replied, "With respect, Mistress, it IS my job. Master has indicated that I am to await your pleasure, something I am more than happy to do, but I'm supposed to be a more general-purpose tool..."

Armand looked amused, adding , "Sleeping with you could be considered training in the female arts, and waiting on you is good practice in servitude, but we need to maintain her ability to pleasure men, too."

Sharon blushed fiercely at the allusion to their tryst earlier in the day, but managed to comment, "Charles managed to provide her daily dose last night..."

Clearly enjoying the exchange, Armand inquired, "Should I ask him to help me keep YOU in tune?"

Sharon opened her mouth to reply hotly, then closed it, mastering herself. Nothing she said here would make her safe -- if she dared Armand, Charles would have her bent over, sliding his cock in and out of her before the night was over. Similarly, if she hastened to deny the possibility, Armand would accept THAT as a challenge -- with the same result. Silence was the safe route...

But Armand wasn't having any: "Well?"

Sharon took a second pass at producing a safe answer. At the end of it -- a pregnant pause of some fifteen seconds -- she replied, "I don't have any real say in the matter."

"What does THAT mean?" Armand pressed. Jason, off-side, was showing his teeth in that Death's head grin of his.

"You will do as you wish, and I will... cope..."

Armand put down his napkin. "This isn't dinner conversation. Let's adjourn to the study. Jason, you may call for Inez, if you wish. Sharon, you may bring the Wench..."

"Felicia?" Sharon glanced over her shoulder.

"I go if Mistress pleases," the Wench replied carefully.

Armand turned from this and directed, "Jason, have Inez bring coffee. We have other matters to discuss, too." He rose and walked out. Jason followed after using the intercom, leaving the women alone.

Sharon turned to the Wench. "I don't know if it's smart for you to be there..."

"Me, either, Mistress -- Master seems to be starting on one of his moods..."

"Why didn't you..."

"... Stand up for myself? Why? Mistress, I WANT to be here! Since I was made a slave, I've been happy -- and absorbing an occasional cock or licking an occasional clit isn't an awful thing to me! We're different in that; I'd be just as happy sucking your clitty while Sir pounded his cock in my ass EVERY NIGHT -- and if it was Master, even better! I'm not going to pretend that I'm here against my will..."

"If you go in there, you're going to end up doing something similar... And so will I!"

"Actually, I imagine that you will get Master's primary attention..." the Wench replied ruefully.

Sharon thought about it. "You'll end up licking me," she stated positively. "He'll want to embarrass me further over this morning..."

The Wench nodded. "Undoubtedly, Mistress." Then she grinned. "The only way you'll win is to be a big girl about it."

"Maybe," Sharon agreed, "but I'm going to avoid the whole thing if I can. Report to Sir."

"Mistress." The Wench inclined her head, rose, and departed. Sharon squared her shoulders and departed for the study.

Armand raised an eyebrow as she entered, indicating one of the plush leather chairs that dotted the room, "No Wench?"

"I sent her to Charles."

"She's had her lesbian activity for the day, then?"

"Yes," Sharon replied, affecting unconcern.

"So how was she?"

"Okay. God knows I needed it, by the time we got around to it." Sharon continued to play the thing off.

Armand sat, pensive. Sharon was carefully not allowing herself to be drawn; he needed to penetrate that. "Any plans to do it again?"

What was the safe answer? "Nothing specific. If I need to."

Armand nodded. Sharon was doing VERY well tonight at avoiding his barbs. Perhaps another tack... "You acknowledge your position here?"

"My position?" Sharon came up short.

"Yes. How would you describe your position in this household -- at bottom."

"I don't understand."

"Categorize yourself. Master, servant, client, employee... slave..." Armand eyed her, amused.

'Shit, shit, shit!' Sharon thought, 'He's going to rub my nose in things!' She thought furiously.

Inez arrived with coffee, sitting it on the coffee table and then pouring and serving first Armand, then Jason, who murmured, "Remove your blouse, Slut." Inez did so, immediately, folding it in a businesslike manner, then turning to serve Sharon, impassive aside from her blush. Sharon took the coffee without comment. Inez turned to leave, but Jason stopped her with a hand, "Stay. Attend me." He pointed to the floor beside his chair, and Inez knelt.

Armand took the opportunity. "How does your position differ from that of Inez, then?"

"Inez is an employee, sort of," Sharon replied.

Armand nodded. "She is my employee, but not Jason's. How does Inez's relationship to Jason differ from yours to me?" He locked eyes with Sharon, who sat, silent, staring back. There was silence for a full minute, then Armand sighed. "Take off your blouse, Sharon."

Belligerence suffused her features; she put down her cup and made to rise. Armand merely continued to stare. Resignation overcame bluster, and she settled back, looking disgruntled. Grasping her blouse at the waist, she flipped it over her head.

"You can be neat, too," Armand admonished, stopping her toss in mid-gesture. "Remove the bra."

"Fine." Sharon folded the blouse, setting it beside her chair, then removed her bra. "Now what?"

"You were telling me how your status differs from Inez's."

Sharon glanced over at Inez; the look she got was... sympathetic. Still, she said nothing.

Jason made the next move, turning to Inez. "Kneel up."

Inez's eyes flashed around the group. "Where, Master?"

"In plain sight. Get out of your skirt."

"Yes, Master." Inez stood and stepped out of her long skirt, an act which left her nude, aside from a certain blush. She was wet, too -- she knew what was coming... She knelt up next to the coffee table, gazing back at her Master.

Armand snapped his fingers. "Dammit, Armand!" Sharon burst out.

"Yes? Do you perceive a difference yet?" Armand's brow lowered. "DO AS YOU ARE TOLD!"

"Shit." Sharon got up and stepped out of her skirt.

"Panties? How many times..." Armand shook his head. "Come here and remove my belt."

Sharon laid down her skirt and came forward gingerly. "I know you like to remove them..." she temporized.

"THIS time, I may remove them with the belt!" Armand ranted.

Sharon's hands shook at Armand's belt. She was over the line, now -- defiance was over. Now she would pay -- and she knew it. "Please destroy them," she implored. "They're really there for your pleasure..."

"Are they?" Armand mused as the belt came free. He held out his hand for it, "Perhaps. Turn around." Sharon did so. Armand reached out and grasped them by the crotch, ripping them away with a single savage jerk, then he stood up. "Go over and bend over the chair. Brace yourself on the back of it."

Nothing could save her now; Sharon did as she was told. Armand didn't make her wait; he stepped up and the belt whistled in the air. Sharon screamed, and a long red mark appeared on her right ass cheek. "No..."

SMACK! "EEEEEE!"

"More..."

SMACK! "AUGH!"

"Panties..."

SMACK! "OWWW!"

"EVER!"

SMACK! "OOOOOOHHHH!"

"Do you understand?"

"Yes! Yes! Oh, oh, oh...." Sharon gingerly rubbed her ass, which was now crisscrossed with red welts.

Jason snapped his fingers and Inez drew her eyes away from Sharon's humiliation. "Come here. Open my pants and suck my cock." Inez did as she was told, gently pulling Jason's trousers to his knees and then leaning in to make oral love to his erection. It was more than just a blow job; one look told you it was a labor of love. Sharon, looking for some kind of distraction from her abused ass, watched as Inez sucked him in and licked and kissed his length. Jason hissed and leaned up so he could maul his slave's breasts.

Armand resumed his chair, then snapped his fingers. Sharon glanced around, and he merely raised his eyebrows. Sharon minced painfully over to him and worked at his fly, then pulled off his shoes before coming back to fully remove his trousers; experience told her that Armand didn't like having his trousers bunched around his knees or ankles. As she knelt to take his cock into her mouth, Armand asked again, "And the difference between your estate and Inez's is?"

"None," Sharon murmured quietly before snaking out her tongue to bathe his erection, "None at all." Saying anything else was a total waste of time, and would only result in more pain -- besides, it was true, wasn't it?

"Well," Armand murmured, "there is ONE difference; Inez thoroughly understands her state, while YOU must be reminded almost constantly. But then, since these little contests of wills are a source of entertainment, I am content to put up with them." He relaxed, enjoying Sharon's efforts. "You need to compete with Inez, here..."

Sharon, already willing, redoubled her efforts -- but Armand had an idea. "Go suck Jason -- I want a direct comparison." Sharon looked up, stricken, but Armand was firm, and she was beyond the point of resistance. "Go!" he insisted, "And do a good job!"

Jason grinned and nudged Inez, who knew better than to argue. The two women exchanged embarrassed glances as they passed one another on the way to the other woman's master. Inez knelt up before Armand, who murmured, "Go deep." She pulled back her thick black hair, took a breath and lowered her mouth on Lord Armand's cock.

Armand took the time to taunt Sharon as she reluctantly lowered herself into position, "It's not like you haven't given another man a blowjob before -- I have video!"

"Armand!" Sharon wailed, "I was tied up! I had no choice!"

"Do you have any now?"

Sharon sighed, "No." Gingerly, she began lapping at Jason's cock.

"Grab her by the hair and face-fuck her if she's inadequate," Armand directed. Sharon didn't see the wink that passed between the men; she dove on Jason's cock, sucking energetically. Jason settled back to enjoy it -- he knew without even discussing it with Armand that Sharon was NOT his to do with as he pleased, whether she was allowed to think so, or not; similarly, Armand would observe limits with Inez. But the women didn't need to know that...

There was a minute of relative silence, punctuated by sucking noises. "Well?" Armand asked.

"She's good, but I like Inez better," Jason opined. "I may just be prejudiced."

"Perhaps Sharon is merely better practiced at servicing my idiosyncrasies," Armand replied. "More experience may improve her. While Inez is more than adequate, I enjoy Sharon's efforts a bit more, too."

"Could it be that they're not trying as hard?" Jason wondered aloud. Both women went for depth, lodging their current partner's cocks in their throats. Neither of them wanted to deal with the logical consequences of THAT assumption!

Armand's chuckle rumbled, "No, I don't think so. I think it is mere familiarity..." There was a collective mental sigh of relief, but neither woman let up. "Want to try her pussy?"

Sharon stopped in mid-stroke. What? Humiliation flooded her. He wouldn't! Yes, he would... Jason's hand on the back of her head put her back in gear.

"Sharon seems to think..." Jason began.

"Sharon, are you doing a bit of independent thinking, here?" Armand reproved.

Sharon kept sucking, waving her hand behind her in negation while she polished Jason's knob like it was the most important thing in the world. Maybe he wouldn't...

It was a forlorn hope. "Sharon, get up and settle yourself on Jason's cock," Armand instructed. Sharon rose up and turned around, her mouth opening to protest -- but the look on Armand’s face silenced her. Her shoulders slumped in resignation; Armand was just going to use her and discard her, like all of the other sluts. Her eyes pled as she reached down and positioned Jason's cock, then slowly began to settle onto it.

Jason, uncertain just how far Armand was going, waited until his glans passed her opening before directing, "Inez." Inez hopped right up; if Miz Sharon had to ride her Master, her job was clear. The two women locked eyes as each settled onto the cock of the other; neither particularly wanted to be where she was, and each woman's eyes pled with the other for forgiveness -- but each did what she was directed to do, settling on the cock assigned to her and moving up and down.

Armand let things ride for about thirty seconds, then asked, "Well?"

"Nice, but I think Inez has adapted to me."

"Hmmmm. She's not goofing off, is she?" The question had the same effect on both women as when it was asked during the blowjob; each made every effort to ensure a favorable review.

"I don't think so. Maybe it's the position?"

Armand shrugged. Inez was doing fine, and no doubt Sharon was, too -- it was all part of the game. "Doggie style?"

"Sounds good." Jason swatted Sharon on the ass -- nowhere near the shot that he might have unloaded on Inez. "Up, slut! Doggie style!"

Armand urged Inez up similarly, and got up behind her, flashing a hand signal to move them close together to Jason while the women settled onto their hands and knees. Jason took it up, "Get a little closer, there, I want to watch Inez get off, the slut... Help me get out of these pants and shoes!" Sharon turned to assist, as servicing Jason seemed to be her current function. Armand knelt up, seated himself in Inez, and started to stroke.

Jason toed off his shoes and allowed Sharon to hold his trousers in place while he stepped out of them, then grunted, "All right, let's go!" Sharon dropped and spun, and Jason slipped his cock between her labia. The two women were face to face, a few inches apart when the men took up their action.

Both women were conditioned to orgasm under worse conditions than these -- a little humiliation added spice. The men stroked away, each watching his woman get aroused despite herself as she rode the other's partner's erection. Attempts by each to control her arousal failed, and soon each woman was panting and grunting, each unable to resist the efforts of the man coupling with her -- and the sight of her opposite number's arousal just steepened the slope...

Armand, watching Sharon, sensed the approach of her orgasm, and gilded the lily, "Now kiss, you, two -- french! I want to see some tongue!"

"Ohmigod!" Sharon moaned, but Inez didn't allow her to disobey, plastering her lips against Sharon's open mouth and sliding her tongue through the opening. Sharon, caught by surprise, sucked it instinctively -- and then her eyes rolled up. "Mmmm! Mmmm! Mmmm! Mmmm!" she moaned into Inez's mouth. Inez held her there with a hand to the back of her head, but Sharon didn't care -- she was too busy cumming! The taste and feel of Sharon's wild reaction -- and Armand reaching down and pinching one of her big nipples -- brought Inez off, too, whining through her nose as her mouth was busy.

Armand smiled. "Time to switch, I think..." Jason nodded, and each Master withdrew and plugged into his own slave. The women broke the kiss, glazed; Sharon mewled in pleasure as Armand penetrated her. Inez purred as Jason's cock entered her, and each woman surrendered to the pleasure of her mate's efforts.

Furious fucking ensued. The men had more or less been fooling around; now, they went chasing their own pleasure and the women were dragged along, willy-nilly. Sharon rested her head against Inez's shoulder as Armand pounded her into her opposite number with his metronomic stroke; Inez did the same to Sharon to balance things. The room was alive with grunts and mewls and moans and groans as the four of them raced towards orgasm.

Armand arrived first, grunting and burying himself in Sharon's unresisting tunnel, crushing himself against her pubic bone. That -- and the feel of him pulsing his seed into her -- set Sharon off; she raised her head and moaned loudly, then bit Inez on the shoulder in her passion. Inez took the bite in the spirit it was given, melded the pain with her arousal, and began her orgasm, groaning in tune to Jason's stroke, "UuuUUuuUUuuUUuuUUuuUUuuhh!!" Her clenching abdominal muscles assisted her pussy in wringing Jason's cock, giving him that extra little bit of sensation that brought HIM over the brink, too, emptying himself in his accustomed silence.

Finished, the males backed off and settled themselves in their original chairs; Jason gave Inez a swat on the ass as he passed and murmured "Cleanup time..." and she obliged, crawling forward and licking away the mess, sucking their combined spend from his pubes. Armand murmured, "Sharon," and she acknowledged, also crawling forward and going to work. Silence reigned while the women worked and the men concentrated on enjoying it. When Sharon sat up, Armand murmured, "More coffee?" as if little or nothing had occurred, and Jason muttered, "Inez..." There WAS a pecking order, after all, and Inez was at the bottom. She rose and tried to ignore the juice running down her leg as she reached for the coffee service.

In the meantime, Armand rose and announced, "I'm moving to the couch. You're with me, bitch."

Sharon blinked, rose, followed, and stretched herself out on the cool leather with her head in his lap at his gestured directions, somewhat dazed. 'Bitch' was an appellation that wouldn't thrill most women and Armand had called her that exactly once since the divorce, but it had been a favorite term during their marriage...

Jason moved, too, to a couch opposite; Inez moved the three cups to the coffee table and freshened them, glancing at her Master for disposition instructions afterward. Jason eyed her for a moment and patted the seat beside him; Inez took up a position mirroring Sharon.

Armand, distractedly mauling Sharon's right breast, murmured, "There is the issue of Pinkham..."

Jason collected his coffee cup and sipped, nodding. "The little game we played with his three lieutenants might have been enough -- but then again, it might not."

"Do we know what he's doing?" Armand squeezed Sharon's breast, "Stay awake, I may ask your opinion..."

Sharon came up short, amazed at herself. It'd been nearly two decades since Armand had offered her much in the way of 'normal' intimacy, and she'd settled right in... What was she, nuts? "Can I have my coffee?"

Armand considered, sighed. "Yes. Get a napkin -- you're leaking on the couch."

Jason, watching the exchange, chuckled. "You, too, slut. Plug that leak. Then come back; you're not drinking coffee, and your opinion is irrelevant." To Armand, he said, "As far as we can tell, he continues to move forward, cowing the local whores with the video."

Armand, rubbing Sharon's back, grunted, "I never planned to get into prostitution -- but there is the open issue of what to do with Mr. Adams' mother..."

"It's a mess..."

"I don't know why I got into it, other than the fact that she's Nate's mother. But she's a character; I'll come up with something. Do we have those pictures Scott took?"

"The ones of Pinkham's boys with cucumbers stuffed up their asses?" Jason's eyes lit. Sharon stifled a snort; this was the first she'd heard of THAT...

"Yes. I'm thinking that they should go into general distribution." Armand mused.

"I think we ought to pick Pinkham up and let Tabitha do him with a strap-on -- then release pictures of THAT!"

Armand shook his head. "It'd bring on a bloodbath. What we did was effective reciprocation, but it needs to go public. Pinkham is smarter than the average pimp, but he uses traditional tools to keep the girls in line -- drugs, intimidation. I think there are better ways -- real protection, medical care."

"Sounds like that old Henry Winkler movie where they ran a cat house out of the morgue..." Sharon piped up.

"Ummm, there's an idea..." Jason murmured. "Set up a cat house. Lure the girls off the streets. Leave Pinkham with the low-budget alternative."

"Hard to advertise without inviting police raids..." Armand mused. "Staying a step ahead of the police might leave us two ahead of customers. Still, it's a thought."

"Use a couple of streetwalkers to vet clients and advertise," Sharon offered. "If a john looks clean, she gives them the address..."

"Hmmm," Armand mused. "There would appear to be options..."

The phone rang. It was Tabitha Adams, wondering when she would be getting out of the hospital. Armand returned to the couch, chuckling. "Speak of the Devil..."

"Hmmm?"

"Miz Adams is tiring of the accommodations at County General." He reached around and tweaked Sharon's right nipple. "Go get me a robe and pajamas, and take your things back to your room. Get yourself a robe, too -- Nora and her beau are on the way home." Sharon nodded and left -- she was going to argue about getting dressed? Not likely...

Ten minutes later, Phillippe stuck his head in the kitchen, grinning, "Nora and her boyfriend should be here in ten or fifteen minutes."

"Thanks," Velma replied. "What you grinnin' 'bout?"

"Miz Sharon gave me the message. I passed her in the hall, buck nekkid, carryin' her clothes. Boss is exercising his authority, I figure."

"An' yo' be surprised?" Velma replied. "Woman was MARRIED ta da Boss -- yo' 'spect she ain't broke in?" Phillippe shook his head and ducked out.

The kids came in a bit later, and Velma fussed over them, making sure they had everything. Miss Nora was a nice girl, and young Nate didn't seem to be your average 'hood hooligan, either. Conversation at the kitchen table sounded like it was between two mind-readers; ahh, young love... Velma closed down the kitchen and lumbered off to her room, her mind awhirl with bittersweet romantic visions.

"Hey, Man -- you got any of those nips you like to stock? I need a shot..." Ed asked Phillippe, sticking his head in the younger man's door.

"You don't drink," Phillippe eyed the carpenter suspiciously.

"It's for medicinal purposes."

"You oughta get medicine, then," Phillippe groused, but surfaced a tiny bottle of vodka.

Ed frowned, "Got any whiskey?"

"This is closer to pure alcohol."

"Oh, all right. I'll get ya some when I go out, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah. Get outta here!" Phillippe had just been getting ready to start a porn flick; thirty seconds later, Ed would have caught him with his dick in his hand. On the other hand, if he hadn't been preoccupied, he might have questioned Ed more closely...

Ed went off down the hall, grumbling. Here he had a whiskey bottle for cover, and Phillippe gives him vodka. Damn! THAT could get transparent pretty quick...

Thirty minutes later, he was as ready as he was ever going to be, having used the last few drops in the bottom of the bottle as after shave and the nip as mouthwash. The shot steadied his nerves a bit, too, which was suddenly important; it was one thing to TALK about staggering into a woman's room looking for pussy, and quite another to actually DO it!

Velma lumbered out of her bathroom, having washed her hands to remove the powerful female musk on them from the masturbation session she'd indulged in moments before. 'Dem kids is prolly bangin' like jackrabbits,' Velma sighed to herself, sliding under the sheets. She glanced at her thin cotton nightie lying on the chair, but she was worked up and generating enough heat to raise the room temperature. Her ribs were wet and sticky where her huge jugs lay on them, so she lay down flat on her back and pushed them off-side to drape under her armpits. If she got worked up again, she could always haul 'em back up where she could get at her nipples. Damn that Ed! She'd been hair-trigger for days since he started makin' them noises!

She was still trying to get her mind away from 'crazy shit' and compose herself for sleep when the outer door to her rooms banged open, smacking the wall. A figure staggered through, then turned and pressed it gently closed with the exaggerated care of the thoroughly soused. "Who dat? Ed?"

"It's the Lone fuckin' Ranger, you silly bitch! Wake your big ass up -- I like my women to know I was there..." The dim figure weaved through the sitting room, waving what appeared to be a bottle, bashing it on the bedroom door.

"Ed! Whatchew doin' here?"

"I come ta see if your big ass is softer than my bunk..." Ed replied, dropping the bottle on the night table. He leaned over her, taking in bare shoulders in the gloom, "Huh, I figgered you'd wear a circus tent to bed or somethin'..."

"Ed! You ain't s'posed ta be here!" Velma came bolt upright in her bed, and the sheet fell a considerable distance -- but not enough to uncover nipples...

"Am, too! You invited me!"

"Ah did not! Whatchew doin'?"

"You're right -- it was more like a dare! I'm takin' off my jeans -- I don't sleep in 'em, ya know!"

"Ed, you crazy fookin' bastid! You don' jes' come inta a woman's room an' crawl in bed wit' 'em!"

"What? I gotta kiss you or somethin'? If you're gonna start screamin', get it over with, so I don't have to go huntin' my jeans on the floor..." He stepped out of them and bent to shuck out of his shorts; a stiff probe became visible in the darkness. Velma gazed at it, transfixed, while Ed threw his T-shirt over his head. "Lessee what we got here..." Ed tossed back the sheet and reached for the bedside lamp.

"No!" A hand shot out and grabbed his, then jerked him, off-balance onto the bed. "Ain't no fookin' way you's gonna see me nekkid!" If'n he did, the bastid would run off, Velma figured -- and it was too late for THAT!

Ed found himself draped crossways over a considerable mass of soft flesh. "Awright," he mumbled, trying to find a way to lurch up without actually using Velma's body to brace on, "bein' you're so insistent... Got that flour?"

"You bastid." There wasn't a whole lot of heat behind the comment, though. Velma was deep into the realization that there was a hard body draped over her. Was Ed REALLY gonna fuck her? Was he even capable? The rod of hot flesh burning into her hip said he was...

Ed's right hand homed in on the heat source, "Hey, pretty wet down here. You been playin' with yourself?" Palm flat on her springy pubic hair, he wormed two fingers between her fleshy outer lips, finding the hard bump of her clit almost instantly.

"Oooooohhhhh!" Velma moaned at the touch. "Damn you, Ed! Cain't you say anythin' nice?"

"I gotta start now?" Draped across her as he was, the mass of her left breast was actually convenient to get to, hanging off the side of her body like that. You couldn't really see the areola in the dark, but you couldn't miss the stiff nipple! It was a mouthful in comparison to anything Ed had ever dealt with...

"AAAAaaaaahhhh!" Velma was halfway to orgasm already! It was as if the mouth on her nipple and the fingers on her clit were electrocuting her; she was twitching as nerves in the two hot spots made her jump all over... Her left hand came up and held his face against her breast of its own accord, while her right went feeling for the hard, hot flesh at her right side...

Ed had a mouthful and then some, and wondered if the big hand holding him in place was going to smother him -- for a fat bitch she was STRONG! Well, he'd worry when things got bad... He put his mouth on autopilot and started concentrating on the games his hand was playing in her increasingly soaking wet gash. Everything said he was in for one helluva ride... A hot hand wrapped itself around his hard-on and Velma grunted, "Oh, Lordy, that's SOOOO nice..." but he didn't know whether she meant his dick or feelings in general, since she started shaking like she was being jackhammered and went, "AAAAAAAAAAAAWWWWWWWWWW!!!!!"

Yep, THAT was a cum! From the way she clutched his head to her and squeezed his cock like it was going to make it longer and narrower, he figured it'd been pretty good, too! Breaking loose, he wheezed, "Easy, I want to be able to use that thing!"

Velma let go as if the shaft had burned her hand! "It's okay, ain't it?" she worried, breathless from the shockwaves that poured through her.

"Yeah, it's fine. You want it?"

"Uh huh!"

"Roll over and git your knees under ya, then," Ed directed. "I ain't sure missionary is gonna work, but doggy-style will for sure!"

Velma did as she was told, letting the implications of the comment go. Ed knelt up and started probing. "Wrong hole, ya bastid! Down a bit!"

Ed chuckled, muttering, "Another time," under his breath, and shifted lower. There had to be a hole in there... "Damn, I know this thing's been used once..." His cock lodged in an opening that didn't seem big enough, "That it?"

"Yeh," Velma panted. "Hey, what 'bout rubbers?"

"I didn't bring no rubbers. YOU got any rubbers? You ain't on the Pill, or some shit?" Ed got uneasy. "Mebbe..." He started to withdraw.

Desperation put a hand like a steel claw on his right arm. "NO! Don' you go anywheres! You goin' do this thing, NOW! Y'all heah me!" The eyes that locked with his over her shoulder showed whites all the way around the pupils.

"Bein' you insist... Take it easy on my fuckin' arm!" Ed lugged plywood, cement, four-by-four timbers -- but he didn't have a grip like THAT!

Velma backed off, but she didn't let go yet. "Yo' git it in," she muttered. "Ah's jes' offa my red time -- we be safe..." It was the truth, but that was mere coincidence. She'd have told him she was infertile, or had a hysterectomy, or ANY damn thing to get the feel of... ah, yeah, that was it! -- firm flesh passing through the ring at the mouth of her cooze, filling her... "Oooooooohhhhh!"

Ed didn't know it, but his was only the fourth cock to enter Velma's vaginal passage in thirty-seven years! The first time had been back home when she was twelve, when some fool high on ganja had nabbed her in a cane field, fooled by her already oversize titties into thinking she was older. She'd screamed and cried and bled like a stuck pig, causing her attacker to get suddenly paranoid and abandon the attack. The second was at a wild party in her late twenties; she'd been so far gone on rum and pot that she remembered the act vaguely, but not how she felt -- or even who the boy was. Somewhere in the middle, she'd passed out, and tryin' ta find out who done it afterwards was like pullin' teeth... The third time had been 'da Boss', and it had been almost like a doctor visit; he'd brought her into the playroom, had her slip down her panties, put her in a chair with stirrups, flipped up her skirt, and penetrated her, dry, wearing a rubber. He wasn't there long -- she didn't think he even came -- it was just an exercise in making her understand that this wasn't just any old job and she might have to put up with some shit. 'Da Boss' did all of his female servants, and she was no exception -- end of story.

But Armand HAD hung out in there long enough for it to stop hurting and become VERY pleasant; later, picking up on his habits from the conversations of some of his other conquests, she decided that he'd deliberately left her hanging without an orgasm -- a sensation she discovered on her own with the help of her fingers. Over time, it became obvious that a good fuck was something that many women would go to some lengths to obtain, and that men were even more adamant about it -- but while disinterest had turned to curiosity and morphed to craving, opportunities hadn't really picked up...

All Ed knew was that Velma was ungodly tight for such a big bitch... "Jeezus! Don't ya ever use this thing?"

"Whatchew think? Yo' seen a line outside 'a my do'? Pipe down an' move dat ting -- oooh! Holy Jeezus! Gawd!" Ed had bottomed out, and Velma was experiencing new things! So THIS was how it was supposed ta be!

Ed was gritting his teeth to keep from blowing. Ol' Velma's twat was hot and wet and fit like a glove, producing instant over-stimulation. Who'd have thought that the silly bag of jell-o had a pussy like that? Damn! Pulling back out was even better than sliding in; Velma's cunt fought every step of the way, clutching him around the ring where the head of his cock met the shaft. "Damn!"

"Sumpthin' wrong?" Shit, he wasn't gonna stop, was he?

"Nope," Ed grunted, starting the second full stroke, "Just surprised, is all." The second stroke went faster, but was just as good; Velma merely seemed to be conforming to his shape.

"Surprised?"

"Damn nice in there..." Ed was getting rolling, now. "Spread your knees a little, an' drop your head, so's I can bang your clit better."

"Oooooohhh! Take all you want -- Ah got's plenty..." Following instructions brought instant benefit. "Hunh... Hunh... Hunh... Hunh..." Velma started getting that feeling she got when her l'il nubbin got hard and she couldn't keep her fingers away -- but there was somethin' added, the sweet feelin' of havin' somethin' soft an' hard at the same time slidin' back and forth in there, touchin' places that hadn't BEEN touched before... "OoOH shit! Ah'm -- OOOOOHHHH! -- Gonna... EEEEYAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!!!" Velma shook like a wet dog, muscles jumping, while bright colored lights flashed before her eyes.

Ed hung on for the ride; control was out of his hands for the moment. In fact, it was out of his hands in more ways than one -- he couldn't keep his nut in the presence of all that frantic activity! He hauled himself against Velma's jiggling ass and let her pussy -- which was going nuts -- milk him dry, "NNNNNNNNnnnnnnggggggggghhhh! Damn!"

Velma felt the first pulse, and suddenly her whole attention was on the feel of 'dat ting' as it swelled and shifted and hardened even further and squirted jets of cum in her cooze. It was like something urgently important was occurring, something monumental, something she didn't have a word for, something that eclipsed what was inarguably the most incredible orgasm she'd ever had. It seemed as if her whole consciousness was plugged into the lining of her cooze, feeling the impact of every drop while Ed poured spunk into it.

When it was over and Ed's muscles unlocked and he let go of the death grip he had on Velma's heavy shanks and straightened up, she murmured, "Dat's it?"

"Well, yeah," Ed grunted, a bit embarrassed. "I usually last longer, but it's been a while, and I didn't expect your pussy to work it like a vacuum cleaner... Lemme get a snooze in and I can go another round, probably," (he hoped -- it'd been a pretty impressive nut). "Second time'll last longer."

"Lemme up, then," she countered. "Ah gotta go ta da bathroom. Yo' don' want me layin' 'round wit' a cooze fulla yo' drippin's." Funny, the dead feeling that settled in her chest when she said that...

Ed unsocketed his shrinking cock. "Awright. Don't take all night -- I'm gonna have to pee, too."

Velma, backing off the bed stopped, "How yo' know dat?"

"What?"

"Yo's gonna hafta pee?"

"It's how we clean out the tubes, after..."

"Oh," Velma's grin was barely visible in the gloom, "Ah getcha."

Ed, washed out, collapsed on the bed and watched her go -- not that he could see a damned thing in the gloom. With relaxation and recovery came buyer's remorse -- what the fuck kinda fool fucks a woman who works and lives in the same house he did? Now that the little head was momentarily taken care of, the one with the brain in it started up and wanted accountability. What kinda stupid bastard fucks a three hundred fifty pound woman? God knew what she looked like without clothes; she damned sure didn't want him to know -- the bathroom light hadn't come on until the door was firmly closed. Add to that the fact that she was black, and from some damned island place, and spoke English like Aunt Jemima... What the fuck was he thinkin'? 'I probably oughta run, not walk, outta here...' he thought to himself, but nothing moved. 'Besides, I gotta work with the woman -- no sense pissin' her off,' he temporized. 'We'll go another round, and I'll go back to my room and if she gets all cow-eyed, I'll tell her some tale and let her down easy.'

Velma sat on the toilet, letting what felt like a pint of Ed's goo drip from her, wondering if she was going to laugh or cry. The preceding few short minutes had been the most amazing thing she could ever remember having done -- but it was over, and Velma doubted that there would ever be a rematch. Some instinct kept telling her she should be hanging on to the stuff seeping out of her -- which was jus' fookin' CRAZY! Like she wanted ED's kids? Of course, on second thought, ol' Ed wasn't THAT objectionable -- an' he WAS jus' 'bout the only bastid ta climb between her legs and leave a load... Bein' two of the others definitely didn't, and she wasn't sure about the third, he might BE the only one! One thing was certain -- if she got stupid and started makin' sweet noises, he'd run like Hell -- IF he wasn't gone already... Sighing, she collected a wad of toilet paper and wiped herself, got up and gave herself a quick look in the mirror -- what parts she could actually see. Turning off the light, she staggered out through the open door, blinded.

The bedside lamp clicked on. "It'd help if you could see..."

"Holy Jeezus! Turn dat ting off!" Velma made for the bed at a dead run. Crossing the bed, she reached for the lamp, but Ed swatted her hand away.

"I gotta see where I'm goin'," he argued, wrestling her arm as she made a second attempt. Fuckin' woman was STRONG -- maybe he WOULD end up chained to the headboard!

Velma, realizing that fighting him naked was giving him exactly what she didn't want, stopped and slid under the sheets. Ed got up and swaggered off to the bathroom, making it obvious that HE didn't care if SHE saw his scraggly grey chest hair, his skinny shanks, or his slight paunch. "Leave the damned thing on until I get back -- I don't wanna knock something over, or break a fuckin' leg..." He clicked on the bathroom light and arranged himself in front of the toilet, pissing on automatic while he mentally reprocessed Velma's frantic dash across the room and visuals from the lamp fight. Okay, so, she was a hippo, all right -- she'd managed to jiggle in the damnedest places on that run! Ed grinned to himself. Funny how much less objectionable that was after you'd soaked your pecker in a woman... Tits hung to her waist, but, damn! They were the size of a couple of small watermelons -- whaddya want! How the fuck was somethin' like that gonna stick straight out? Big rolls under that, and he still hadn't SEEN her twat -- she'd run hunched over -- but from tussling with her he realized that what was there wasn't ALL jello. There were strong muscles in there...

Velma, the sheet drawn up to her neck, listened to Ed's stream hitting the bowl -- a sound she'd really never heard before. 'Damn, dat ting can shoot!' It seemed that much odder that it hung limp when he came out of the bathroom moments later -- did peeing wear it out? "Howcum you're all limp?"

Ed looked at her like she had two heads. "Can't pee with a hard dick..." He stood there, scratching his head. "You ask questions like a fourteen-year-old. How many men you been with?"

Velma knew instantly that if she wasn't careful, Ed would be off like a shot. She broke off her wonderment that that thing could blast away a solid stream of water when limp and answered carefully. "T'ree -- fo'," she replied. "Some of 'em wasn't memorable."

Ed absorbed this, drawing the correct conclusion -- at least part of Velma's sex life had been conducted while dead drunk or high. He grabbed the sheet, "Well, lemme under there..." He fought the urge to jerk the thing down, knowing that it would only lead to fear and embarrassment on Velma's part. Someday, though, she was gonna have to show him the whole package... Shit! Where did THAT thought come from? This little bout was undoubtedly it... Ed's pride had taken a beating from his quick finish -- but she HAD gotten HER nut, and it had apparently been a big one. Still, if he wasn't memorable, either, it might make the future easier on them both... Velma controlled access with a thick arm, granting it, but not displaying any more flesh than necessary. Ed slid in and she snapped off the light while he was settling himself against her.

"Dat ting gonna get hard agin?" she asked.

"Yeah," Ed rumbled, "It'd probably be easier if I had a quick nap, but it'll probably pop up if you give it some entertainment. Gimme a tit..." Hands and mouth went questing.

"Whuffo'? Uhhhh! Oh! Dat!" Ed's lips locked on a nipple and resistance to the idea disappeared. Something about what he was doing with his lips and teeth made sparks fly...

Ed reflected that a kid would have no trouble finding THIS nipple -- it was probably full baby-bottle sized when erect! The quiet groans and movement told him that Velma wasn't exactly despising the attention... "It'll perk up faster if you play with it a bit..." -- like moaning, squirming women didn't give it a jumpstart...

Velma felt around gingerly and found Ed's already rising member. "Mmmmm," she murmured, feeling the thing growing and stiffening in her hand, "dat's nice!"

Ed, assuming she meant his nipple work, went groping for the other. The woman did NOT have soft hands -- cooking and such HAD to be some work -- but surprisingly, that didn't seem to be a problem. The firm, muscular grip of the hand that instinctively jacked him felt just fine...

Velma found the head of Ed's cock to be amazing -- it was SOOOO soft and rubbery, but smooth and almost frictionless... "Yo' be drippin'..."

"Ain't pee -- it's lube. Pre-cum..." Ed unlatched to mumble. Didn't the woman know ANYTHING? Something about that bothered the back of his mind...

Velma verified this. Yeah, piss wasn't slick, like this stuff... "Oh. Ummmmm..." Her attention drifted elsewhere.

"Uuuuuhhhh!" Ed groaned. Velma's thumb was doing this dance on the head of his dick, and the thing was approaching the hardness of an iron bar. Time to play in the wet spot... He shifted his hand downward, hunting her twat by the heat it was giving off. "Spread 'em."

Velma's knees opened wide to grant clearance past her heavy inner thighs, and three fingers began sliding up and down her damp slot, spreading juices already forming there. "Lordy, lordy..." What was SOOO good about having somebody else's hand there? Her nubbin was all hard even before Ed's middle finger started pushing it around, wiping back and forth over it, bringing waves of pleasure... His finger slid on down and seated itself in her hole, and she felt a wash of wetness rolling down from deep inside to prepare her for the larger invader to come. "Agghhh... SOOOOO good..."

"You be wantin' a little dick, then?" Ed husked. Obviously, he was good to go... At this rate, she might jerk him off...

"I be wantin' DAT dick..." Velma squeezed it gently, feeling it pulse, alive, in her hand. "Ah don' think it's... ooooohhhhh... little..."

"Flattery will get you fucked..." 'Jeezus, when did I become a fuckin' wit?' Ed wondered to himself. "Okay, if we're gonna do it like this, you gotta bring your knees up to your chest..."

"Ma chest?" Velma responded, surprised. "Dere's shit in da way..."

"Outside of them," Ed chuckled. "The higher and flatter the better, so I can get all along here..." His hand stroked the flat plane of her vulva from her clitoris almost all the way to her asshole.

"Yo' gotta help," she hissed. "Tuck 'em between..." Velma tugged at his hard-on.

"Okay." Ed rolled over onto his knees, shaking his head in wonderment. Who'd have thought that tits could get in the way? He reached down and grabbed a jiggling globe in each hand and pressed them together.

Velma levered her knees up and grabbed them, trapping her jugs between, "Lahk dat?"

"Yeah..." Ed knelt up, staring at what little of his partner he could make out in the dimness. Squeezed between her legs like that, those jugs might stick up far enough for him to chew a nipple, once he was settled in... Maybe he'd get her one of those corset things to hold them up... What? He shook his head. 'I'm drifting into la la land...' By then, though, his rubbery tip had found her hole and anything more that what was happening at the current moment disappeared from the consciousness of them both as he sank into her buttery depths.

Buttery. Yeah, that was it -- warm butter, over a surface that fit like a soft glove. Pussy was a wonderful thing, and THIS pussy was some of the best he'd ever sunk his prick into. Probably because it was here, now, but... He bottomed out, mashed against the hard knot of Velma's cervix while his pubic bone ground against hers, trapping her clit between.

"Go slow..." she moaned, writhing. Ed's pole was ironing every wrinkle in her innards, and she loved the feelings that action was providing her; instinctively, she knew that when he sped up, some of it would go away. She wanted a kiss, but he was bolt-upright, far away... They'd never done that, and might never get around to it -- but that wasn't something she needed to worry about now...

Ed backed off slowly, shifting his stance so his hands joined hers at her knees. He took in a breath and inhaled an incredible aroma. One whiff left him fully energized! "Damn! Nothin' like the smell of wet pussy!" Again, he sank his meat into her quaking tunnel, while she moaned, "Oh, Gawd!" in aroused embarrassment.

The slow penetration thing only worked for a few strokes before she loosened up enough to accommodate him; there was no complaint when he shifted gears and picked up the stroke. Instead, the silly twat started constantly moaning, "Ooohhh... Ooohhh... Ooohhh... Ooohhh..." and snapping her head back and forth. Well, he was hissing and grunting like a steam engine, too, for that matter; whatever the outside looked like, her insides were USDA Grade A Number One Premium Fucking pussy! Ed's most recent partner had been the Wench, the previous week -- and, frankly, he never expected to experience better -- but Velma's twat had a certain luxuriousness to it... It was just better shit, no question about it!

Velma was in Heaven! Ed was filling her chock full -- topping it off with a crash against her nubbin -- about once a second! Her titties were rolling up and down on her chest -- if it wasn't for the knees trapping them, they'd be all over the place! If Ed went wild on her, she'd probably end up with two black eyes, but for now, things were just FINE! She shifted her fingers, and suddenly Ed found that they were intertwined with his -- which was the closest they'd come to intimacy, sex notwithstanding. Her grip signaled urgency, so Ed jacked it up a bit. Velma instinctively started this thing where she arched her back on the out-stroke and hunched, lifting her pelvis to take him in -- something that added a surprising layer of sensation for them both -- and her moans became really urgent as the summit came into sight. "Ooohhh! OOOHHH! OOOHHH! OH, GAAAAAWWWWDDDD!!!" The mountain was a volcano, and the top of Velma's head came off as it erupted, producing a fireworks display and an earthquake.

Ed held on while Velma shook like a leaf, thrashing, her pussy nibbling at his cock. It was good -- no, GREAT -- shit, but Ed wasn't done yet. When she went slack, he picked up his previous stroke, pistoning in and out while she moaned, "Ohhh, Lawdy, Lawdy.." breathlessly and her hands rubbed his face, neck, shoulders, ribs, chest -- whatever she could reach. He lowered himself as low as he could get and whispered, "Did ya like that? I got more stretch in me this time -- let's see if you can make it again!"

God, she wanted a kiss! He was sooo close... Her hands came up and captured his head and she lifted hers to press thick lips against his, immediately pushing her tongue into his mouth. Ed froze in shock, but got a grip and returned it, dueling with her tongue. But being cramped down like that interfered with his stroke, and she couldn't keep her head elevated, anyway, so they locked that way only briefly before she released him, again interlacing her fingers with his at her knees.

Ed continued to pound away, having set an effective pace. For a while, all Velma did was shift her head back and forth and breathe harshly through her nose, but then she started making noises again, "Ooohhh... Ooohhh... Ooohhh... Ooohhh..." Ed grinned to himself; she tightened up, too, and her hips started flexing again -- he was gonna give her two! "Aaahhh! Ooohhh! Umm! Ooohhh!" Her eyes started rolling around, and Ed decided to ice the cake, applying more power to the stroke; Velma's grip on his fingers threatened to break one, her eyes rolled up, and she wailed, "OOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAWWWWWWWHHHHHH!!!!!" shaking like a leaf, pulsing, jiggling, back hunched and hips lifted to take everything he could deliver.

For Velma, Ed's tool was a magical thing, its blunt head bashing against her knotted cervix while its shaft massaged her tunnel and his wiry pubes abused her nubbin. She didn't have to work to obtain those wonderful shockwaves that raced through her -- she didn't see how she could avoid them! As her third climax of the evening with Ed thundered down on her (the little pops she got from nub-rubbin' before didn't even count!), she hung there, a receptacle, urgently awaiting her fulfillment. This one didn't sneak up on her; she watched its approach, spread, waiting, while it crept slowly within reach, fueling her anticipation before the final stunning rush! The shockwave flooded over her, leaving her only conscious of wave after wave of pleasure that precisely matched Ed's stuttering stroke -- for Ed couldn't keep things steady in the face of the clutching and milking Velma's twat was putting out!

When Velma collapsed the second time, Ed knew he wasn't going to make it to three; that dance her pussy did on him while she came had him too close! "I'm gonna get mine, now!" he grunted, "I got the knees -- hold onto your titties!" Velma obeyed listlessly -- then got serious about holding her jugs in place as Ed set up a shattering pace, pounding her like a jackhammer while he grunted, "Yeah! Yeah!" through gritted teeth. Then he started to jizz her, grinding himself deep while his pole pulsed -- and Velma got ANOTHER quick, flashing cum from the feel of his jism blasting against her cervix from his already pressing cock. It took no imagination at all to picture it shooting through the tiny opening there and into her uterus -- and something about that caused her to quiver in release all over again!

Ed was done; he was fifty, and most of his sex life had been solo shots with hookers, or, when he was much younger, the occasional one-night stand with some desperately drunk cunt after a bar hunt. Twice in one night wasn't a miracle, or anything, but it was more than he'd managed in over a decade -- well, except for the Wench's blowjob practice... Ed was wasted; he all but flopped onto those soft titties, going boneless. Velma let go of her knees, which put her feet on the mattress, and hugged him to her, rewarded by his turning his head and lackadaisically sucking at her neck, promising himself he'd get up and get out of there in just a sec...

The soft snore in her ear did nothing to upset Velma -- it'd be hours before she came down from THIS plateau. She held him and cooed, and delighted in his damp, sweaty weight, while slowly drifting into dreamland herself...