Chapter 42
Various Incidents of Voyeurism

"Why don't you see if you can tease another erection out of me, my dear? Position yourself so you can see, and I can use my hands on you..." Armand murmured as he punched combinations on the video selector. Boris's bedchamber wasn't exactly a highlights site... Neither was Ed's sitting room, where he surprised Ed and Velma sitting on the couch sharing a blanket! "Whoa!"

"Ohmigod!" Sharon gasped, looking up from her handful of Armand's cock as she settled in on hands and knees beside him. "When did THAT happen?"

Armand chuckled. "Within the last week -- I guarantee it! I said something to Ed the other day after eavesdropping on Velma. I'd no idea that she was frustrated..."

"Ed's a little old for her, isn't he?"

"Beggars can't be choosers, on either end," Armand chuckled. "Velma's horizons are EXTREMELY limited by her weight and shyness, and Ed's social skills are similarly limited. Let's roll this back and see how they got there..." Armand rewound the take to the point where Ed answered his door and rolled it forward from there, being sure to catch the dialog. "You getting this?"

"Mmmm," Sharon released Armand's now solid erection with a pop. "This isn't their first time."

"Right -- but it looks like the second. IF it comes off..."

"It will," Sharon posited. "Let's see how they get under that blanket." Armand scrolled along, slowing for dialog. Sharon tittered. "They're hilarious!"

"I guess he visited her a couple of days ago. Maybe we can find THAT later..." Armand hit the big beer spill and slowed down for the whole show.

Sharon cracked up. "That was ingenious! I didn't know Velma had it in her!" Armand scrolled through to her return. "Oh, my! That's just as good!"

"Okay, we'll come back for the whole show," Armand chuckled, "But I bet we're missing Boris and Leticia..."

"Mmmmm, Boris and Natasha?" Sharon quipped, and returned her oral attentions to Armand's erection.

Armand chuckled, and went back to hunting among the cameras. In a moment, after a couple more false starts, he got it...

Boris was already at work between Leticia's splayed thighs. He'd lost no time at all; Leticia was in full submissive mode, and had herself in place, waiting, when he entered the room. Instead of crawling immediately between her thighs, though, Boris had grunted, "Play with yourself, little one! I have nothing here to get you wet." In the meantime, he'd knelt up on the bed beside her head and presented his cock for more sucking.

Leticia was beside herself. Masturbation in front of the big man was embarrassing, to say the least, but the reasoning behind it made good sense. Boris kept controlling her, this time by sliding his big, hard paw under head, cradling it, but driving her onto his erection. "Da. You suck good, little slut! But Boris fill your pussy, this time, nyet?" He started mauling her right nipple with his other hand, sending mixed flashes of pleasure and pain shooting though her. "Push in two fingers, little one -- open yourself up for Boris..." Leticia moaned, and wet, sloppy sounds began issuing from her crotch. "Do not cum! You cum on Boris, little slut, or you do not cum at all!" He looked toward her crotch to gauge her progress, "You are ready, then?"

Leticia thought so! She'd been damp, anyway -- getting two fingers going hadn't been hard, and something about his jamming her head onto his chubby cock kept bringing rushes of wetness... "Mmmm hmmm!" she agreed, augmenting her gurgle with eye contact.

Boris knew better. When the Boss brought in women, Boris usually settled for sloppy seconds, because his thick length was difficult for a woman to take in unprepared. Leticia's two slim fingers wouldn't prepare her fully for something with more normal girth, never mind HIS cudgel -- but then, he wanted her to know he'd been there, anyway. "Make it very wet!" he admonished.

Leticia made every effort to soak it with saliva, but she wasn't exactly practiced. Boris extracted himself from her mouth and circled to between her legs, threading his forearms under her shoulders and lifting her legs. "Now you take Boris! Now you feel a man!"

Boris positioned his blunt glans at her opening. It was puffy, and there was a lot of pink showing in the groove between the dark lips, but... Leticia's eyes widened; what was that thing, a baseball bat? The spongy tip wedged in place and Boris began to force it -- and Leticia knew pain! "Aaahhh!"

"Da. You are surprised, eh? Skinny little slut -- this thing is not for men, nyet? Only for women? Only for fingers and tongues?"

"No!" Leticia gasped. "I have... men..."

"Huh," Boris grunted. "Not many. Not often. This pussy -- no stretch! No problem -- Boris stretch it for you..." He was, too! The blunt head was mostly in and he was rocking back and forth, taking advantage of his foreskin to slide the hard flesh beneath back and forth in small increments, slowly defeating the nibbling muscles of her opening. For Leticia, the pain was already easing as her vaginal muscles lost the contest and began to admit his thick girth -- but there were still several inches worth of territory to be fought over... If she wasn't watching the whole thing, she'd have sworn that he was jamming his fist into her! She'd had longer -- Mr. Wilson topped Boris by at least two inches, and she'd had a couple of boyfriends with some length -- but she'd never seen anything so thick, let alone FELT it... Boris sawed back and forth, slowly claiming more territory, and as the pain dropped away, she became aware of every nerve ending in her lower vagina as Boris's thick club stretched and ironed her inner walls.

Meanwhile, Boris was grunting and grumbling, "Skinny little bitch! Boris should lie on his back and screw you onto him like light bulb! Why you not use this thing? You are frigid, maybe, eh?"

"N-no..." Leticia liked her sex, but since Mr. Wilson there hadn't been a whole lot of it in her life. Being on call six days a week, twenty-four hours a day didn't leave her much time to hunt men -- or, more accurately, for men to hunt her. Mr. Wilson demanded sex, but on an infrequent basis, and usually, he wanted a blowjob -- something about choking her while feeling her soft mouth -- not vaginal sex. In fact... Now that she thought about it, Mr. Wilson had done her the 'normal' way about three times -- and there had always been something else going on -- something that made it NOT normal. Things like retaining a two quart soapy enema with the help of an inflatable butt plug, or simultaneously sucking the cock of some complete stranger -- or worse, sucking the cock of someone she'd known in the old days... No, aside from the identity of the beefy, balding, bearded bear that was in the process of wedging his thick cock into her, this was about the closest to 'normal' sex that she'd been in over a year...

"Hmph. I am not convinced. This fit like a vise, a virgin -- not like woman who likes sex! Boris has to open you up..." Boris grunted.

"It's... been a while, I admit it. Mr. Wilson had the right, but he seldom exercised it. And I was... saving myself..."

"For the Boss, eh?" Boris grunted a laugh. "Loyalty is a good thing, but there are too many women in the dacha -- the Boss does not have time to service them all. And you -- you are perhaps not the favorite?"

"No." The accusation stung; the admission stung worse. However things may have started -- whatever dreams existed in her head -- to Mr. Wilson, she was JUST a maid now. The fact that he used her, very occasionally, was irrelevant -- he did that to literally every woman he came into contact with. The fact that he owned her, lock, stock, and barrel did not make her special -- that was why she was here, doing penance for the belief that she was special and could pass judgment on others...

"You fuck Boris, then. You make it good for Boris, eh?"

Resolution firmed her, "Yes, I'll make it as good as I know how..." The fact that the big bastard's heavy cock was stretching and exposing every nerve in her vagina made it easy to let go, to embrace the situation that found her there, being ridden by him. Leticia arched her back and wriggled her ass, inviting him in deep. As a side-effect, pleasure erupted, and began to build, "Oh, God!"

"Da." Boris was puffing a bit, but he was hitting his mark. "Is good, yes?"

"Yessss..." Boris's pubic bone was now, finally, bashing hers on his jackhammer down-stroke; movements that had started out deliberate for both of them were going on automatic as the rewards started rolling in. Leticia's hips rolled as she rose to meet him.

That's where Armand and Sharon found them, just getting their rhythm... From Sharon's perspective, Boris's big belly should have gotten in the way, perhaps, but it seemed smaller, somehow, despite his position atop Leticia. The side view that the bedroom camera afforded showed Boris driving himself into Leticia like a machine, at a measured pace that was nonetheless probably twice a second. Leticia reached up and grasped his shoulders, obviously using the leverage to arch herself and provide him with better penetration. Armand murmured "Hmmmm," and punched a couple of buttons, and the display shifted to a dead-on view of the actual coupling taken from somewhere beyond the foot of the bed. Armand zoomed it some, but the whole thing was pretty anonymous; you couldn't really see Boris's cock, just his heavy balls slapping Leticia's ass. You could see that ass rising, though, the thigh muscles flexing... Sharon started waving her hand, and Armand sighed, rolling his eyes. "Just use your hands, then, so you can talk..." She'd either have to spit regularly to maintain lubrication or let it dry, but her commentary WAS contributing to his enjoyment...

"Back it off a little, please," she asked through puffy lips. Armand exercised the control and the frame began to widen. "There! See that? See how her toes point and her hips flex? She's enjoying it! If he thinks he's hurting her, he's wrong..."

"I don't think he does," opined Armand. "I think he's just... mastering her. If she enjoys it -- especially if it is against her will -- that's a powerful tool. Another shot?"

"Mmmm, please. This one isn't any too revealing." Sharon had the presence of mind to be VERY careful with her ex-husband; irritating him was counter-productive, and this evening, here, in this bed, was their closest approach to equality in decades. This moment was very special, and she would do whatever she must to preserve it.

Armand shifted to an overhead shot from the vicinity of the head of the bed; apparently, he had mastered the list of assets available. Leticia's head was going back and forth every few strokes, her eyes glassy, her nostrils flaring to her hoarse breathing. Her nipples were elongated spikes protruding above crumpled areolae, their bittersweet chocolate color heightened by their tension. Her hands clutched Boris's hairy shoulders rhythmically. As they watched, her lips drew back in a rictus, and she rotated her head to the front. As she tilted it back, her eyelids began to flutter as her eyes rolled up, "Oooooooohhhhhh!!"

"Yeah, she's enjoying it, all right," Armand chuckled.

On screen, Boris puffed, "You like? You must... be the... real woman... now! The bull rises... and you must... take... his charge..." Boris was losing it -- it had been years since he'd let himself go fully with a woman -- even whores, whom he considered unworthy of his seed, usually got it, but not the full release of his inner tension that went with it. That, he held back -- they didn't deserve it, and he didn't trust them; besides the power of his full release might cause them fear or injury, and he'd be vulnerable while he recovered, afterward. Boris had a bit of berserker in him, and this was where it released itself. He pretty much figured that he could let go here, now, with the little negress, and not only fulfill his own needs, but those of the Boss, too...

Intelligent response was impossible for Leticia; she was there, triggered, surging and clutching, her eyes rolled up while the shock waves tore through her, "Ohgodohgodohgodohgodohgod..." She was just beginning to come down off the peak when Boris shifted gears.

Leticia's completion stripped all control from Boris; the rumble in his throat matched the roaring in his ears as he suddenly almost doubled the power of his strokes, hammering Leticia at an incredible rate! Keeping up with him was starkly impossible, so Leticia clutched herself to him, tensing and lifting her hips to provide him the best angle while his hands seemed to be everywhere at once. He was no longer leaning on them, but was using them to pull her nipples and drive stubby fingers into her hair at the sides of her head -- then they were gone and tracing her flanks. Leticia tried to lace her fingers behind his neck, but he was too broad, and the effort got in the way of his hands -- and all the time his cock kept pounding, pounding, pistoning in then igniting the spark from her clitoris as his pubic bone hammered it and driving the outstroke. They were a crazy engine, revving higher and higher... Then he PICKED HER UP in his big hands and held her there, above the bed, while her battered her and she clutched his head. The next thing she knew, they were kissing, his thick tongue invading her mouth, his teeth shifting to chew at her puffy lower lip... It hurt and there was blood, but she didn't care; he sucked it and his tongue returned, and...

Boris threw his head back, "Da! Da! DAAAAAAAAA!!!!!" He crushed Leticia against his crotch like she was an inflatable doll, and his heavy balls drew up nearly inside of him before the release of the first pulse of his mighty orgasm.

Leticia hung there, impaled, but her eyes rolled up and she screamed, "AAIIIIIIEEEEEEE!!!!" as the first jet of several of Boris's seed splashed into her quaking vagina.

Boris came to himself kneeling upright on the bed, holding the little negress in his arms while she pulsed and clutched him, semi-conscious, moaning "Ugh! Ugh! Ugh!" in sync with the clutch of her pussy on his still rampant cock. Boris was done, though, washed out, muscle lock the only thing holding him upright. He lowered her gently and covered her, then rolled them both over so that she lay atop him, still linked by the juncture of her tight sheath and his still-engorged cock. It was time to sleep; she would be there when he awoke...

It was true; Leticia wasn't going anywhere. She was only semi-conscious, and her only imperative was to clutch herself to the mountain of muscle slowly relaxing under her. She bored her face into his neck and began to snore, blood from her split lower lip dripping onto his neck, unheeded.

Sharon and Armand lay transfixed. "WOW!" Sharon gasped. Armand's cock was blued steel in her hand and she wanted it, BAD! "That was..."

"I ought to sell that to a porn production company -- it would make a mint!" Armand grunted, gasping as Sharon's hand moved on a cock suddenly oversensitive. "Climb on that -- if I don't last, I'll think of something else to do for you, after..."

Sharon did as she was told, gladly, riding cowgirl. Armand fit her like a hand in a glove and she was just as over-stimulated as he was; the feel of him sinking into her that first time was ecstasy, and his practiced hands on her breasts only made it better. They were both too over-stimulated to last; two dozen strokes found Sharon trying to continue while grunting out her orgasm -- but then Armand, triggered, began blasting in her, and they matched pulses while Armand squeezed her sensitive nipples to the rhythm of their mutual completion.

"Oh, God!" Sharon swayed in place, the aftermath of their completion having washed her out.

Armand pulled her down to him, "Lay down here, beside me, you silly bitch, while you get your breath..." She rolled off him and plastered herself to his left side. "Want to see how Ed and Velma are doing?"

"Forgive me -- I can't do any more for a while," Sharon gasped.

"I don't think I can, either, after that -- but Ed and Velma are likely to be comic relief..." Armand switched scenes.

The pair in question hadn't done much in the interim. Ed was playing with Velma's neck and ears, but anything more demonstrative required that he do something overt. Velma's heavy breasts were effectively in her lap, unreachable around her broad shoulders, and Ed could move that hand on her neck and try to burrow between her legs to get at her pussy, but that, too would take a major effort and be impossible to ignore.

On TV, some hooker was playing a john like a violin, getting him worked up enough to select her from her colleagues, and in the process exciting him to the point that when they got down to business, he wouldn't last long. Watching, knowing that Ed was there beside her had her hot -- literally hot -- throwing off waves of body heat, sweating... "We shoulda done a sheet -- dis thing is hotter'n Hell, thin as it is..."

"So I gotta strip my whole fuckin' bed?" Ed grunted, but a glance told Velma he was grinning. He eyed her, challengingly, "You wanna sheet, then?"

"Well..." What was he grinning about?

"I'll go get it." Ed made a show of martyred patience, but both of them knew better. In a moment, he was back, holding a sheet -- but not offering it. "So gimme the blanket..."

"Y'all gimme da sheet, then."

"Not'll I get the blanket..."

"Ah'm nekkid under here!"

"Yah." Ed was grinning from ear to ear.

"Ed!"

"What? You're parked on my couch, waitin' fer me to do somethin'. This is it!" Ed announced, a malicious gleam in his eye.

A half our earlier, that would have been the end of it, but Velma had all but chugged two beers and she wasn't really that tolerant of alcohol. She was giddy and flustered, and hot... "Awright, it's yoah funeral..." She flipped back the blanket. "Dat what y'all wanna see, ya perverted bastid?"

"Yah." God, she was big, all right. Fuckin' jugs were the size of watermelons and rested on her bulging belly. Her pudenda was invisible, hidden in a triangular indentation between the roll of her belly and her huge thighs -- Ed couldn't even see fur. Velma was NOT sitting with her knees together -- but she'd have to splay herself widely to grant anyone access to her cunt... Ed's eyes kind of bulged, but he maintained a poker face. Slowly he teased her with the sheet, making her grab for it and snatching it back a couple of times before finally allowing her to grab it. Grinning, he collected the blanket and moved off.

Velma busied herself with draping the sheet, covering her humiliation with, "Now you embarrassed da shit outta me an' made yo'self sick, Ah need 'nothah bottle o' dat dog piss..."

"Awright." Ed folded the blanket and tossed it on the bed, listening to mumbled complaints from Velma about not even providing decent materials to ply a woman with liquor. The woman was godawful huge -- why was she still there? Why the fuck hadn't he put her ass out? Ed pondered this as he returned to the sitting room to raid the refrigerator. Shit, only two more beers... He headed for the closet to uncover his three-quarters full case and snatch out a six-pack. Well, lessee... Despite the fact that they ranted at each other constantly, (fuck, he didn't know how to talk to no woman!), neither one of them managed to take offense and they seemed to, well, communicate... Ed opened the refrigerator and fished out the two cold ones, setting them on the floor while he loaded the six-pack. Then there was them humongous jugs -- they was fuckin' miraculous! How in fuck did she carry them around? Ed didn't really think of himself as a fan of big, floppy tits, but they were an eye-magnet, no denying it! He snatched the bottle opener from where it hung magnetically from the refrigerator door and absently popped the caps, despite the fact that they were twist-off, still ruminating. The last thing wasn't visible right now, kinda like the first; he'd been in that cunt -- twice -- and it worked just fine. Better'n fine, actually... He tossed the caps in the trash and turned, to come face to face with Velma's most visible attractors!

Velma had gone for the original below the shoulders drape she'd used with the blanket -- but she was tipsy -- okay, she was looped, since alcohol hit her metabolism like a ton of bricks -- and the ole bastid was foolin' with her -- playin' with her neck for twenty fookin' minutes, then playin' blanket games and oglin' her ass while she sat there, buck nekkid... What did a gal hafta do ta git her itch scratched, fer shit's sake? Very deliberately, she rearranged the sheet so that it rode under her breasts, rucking it up to the point that it was pinned under the big hanging orbs. 'Now, by damn, he'll shit or get offa the fookin' pot!' she thought, nodding to herself.

Ed nearly dropped the bottles! Ho lee shit! The plain white sheet under them made her monster melons look even bigger, and her huge nipples begged to be suckled. Ed didn't really want beer, any more...

"Whatchew lookin' at?" Velma asked calmly, "Ah figgered Ah'd turn down da sheet -- y'all seen it all, anyways..."

"Uh, yeah..." Ed's brain wasn't working. Why were they so hot? The woman was deformed...

"Y'all are blockin' da TV..."

"Right." Ed had no comeback; he handed Velma her beer, still mapping her jugs with his eyes, and returned to his seat on her left, flipping the sheet over himself. He draped the arm again -- technically, he had more territory -- but at this point, he was URGENTLY unhappy that he couldn't find an excuse to play with a monster melon. His beer was forgotten, hanging out there on the end of his arm, tying up a hand he could be using... Wups! Everything seemed to circle back to Velma's giant-sized chest. TV was TOTALLY forgotten; Ed was staring...

"Uh, Ed?"

"Yeah?"

"Ah, uh, shouldn'ta axed for dis beer. Ah get drunk real quick."

"I oughta make ya chug it."

"Ah figger y'all'd probly rather Ah was awake..."

Ed snorted. "That bad?"

"Yeh. Ah cain't really tolerate it."

"That why ya hung out the hooters?"

"Uh huh. Stupid, huh?" Velma made to cover herself.

"Leave 'em. I like 'em."

"Ah guess! Y'all ain't took yoah eyes off 'em!" Velma chuckled.

"Wasn't that the idea?"

"Well, yeah..."

"Gimme the beer." Ed got up and took it, carrying it over to the counter. He eyed his, but it had gotten in the way, too, so it followed its mate. What he had to do was get a clear invitation -- like those tits weren't? Fuck it. Ed plopped back down on the couch, sliding back under the sheet. "Whew! Even this is hot!"

"Sorry." Velma eyed him a moment to see if follow-up was warranted, then went back to pretending to watch TV.

"I'm gonna shuck these sweats..." Ed took advantage of the sheet to slide them off and toss them aside, then plastered his leg against Velma's.

"Y'all got hairy laigs," Velma murmured, dropping a hand on his thigh.

"Ya think?" Ed grinned. "I'm a man -- I don't shave 'em." He dropped a hand onto Velma's heavy thigh and began sliding it around. "Pretty smooth. You like that all the time?"

"Uh," Velma grunted, embarrassed. How did HE know she'd shaved for him? "Not alla time... I, uh, done it a coupla days ago."

Ed just looked at her. A couple of days ago, he'd busted into her room -- and the fur on her legs had been long enough to be soft...

"Okay, well, yestiddy." Velma allowed.

'Probably a couple of hours ago...' Ed figured, but he let her off the hook, nodding. Meanwhile, he had a handful of surprisingly dense flesh. He moved the hand around, testing his limits, drifting into the hot inner thigh area. Velma would have to open up for him to cover more ground, but he could tease her, at least.

Velma let her hand wander, too -- but Ed wasn't as well-protected. "Hey, ain't you wearin' nothin under there?"

"Oh, sure. Briefs," Ed lied.

"Ah doan..." Ed's cock was tenting the sheet -- no way was he wearing underwear! "Whazzat, den?" Her hand encountered his stiffness, "Ain't no..." Oh, Lordy, she had a handful of his tallywhacker! Part of her wanted to snatch her hand away -- but the other part wouldn't let her. "Y'all lied ta me!"

"You didn't believe me anyway..."

"Yeah, but..." Velma thought about it; it didn't seem to matter, now. Now she had a handful of it, maybe they could quit foolin' around... It was hot and hard and silky-smooth, but she could feel the ropy veins under the skin... Her hand slid up and down the shaft automatically.

Ed grunted. Velma's hand wasn't no soft thing, but it seemed to be actually better for jerking him off than a soft one would have been! He started digging in her lap to return the favor, but, "Damn, I can't get at it! Spread 'em!"

"Awright." A big thigh lifted and draped itself over his, pinning him, but the other leg shifted a bit, too, and she was open to his hand. Ed remembered the territory from a couple of nights before; wiping his hand up and down over it caused her lips to pop open and wetness to spring up in her slot while a pretty good-sized clit reared against his fingers. "Ahhhh," Velma moaned, "Howcum dat's so much better when yo' do it?"

"Talent," Ed grinned. He reached around with his left hand and started mauling Velma's fat left nipple with three fingers.

"Agghh!!" Velma moaned, and took advantage of Ed's cramped position to press her lips to his neck and suck.

"Wo!" Ed's neck lit up like a Christmas tree, the sensations growing goose-bumps all over his body! "Jeezus, Woman! You want me to pop in your hand?"

"Uh uh," Velma moaned, "Ah want it buried deep down dere where it belongs!"

"Mebbe we oughta quit fuckin' around and fu..." Ed shut up. How in Hell did the woman bring out the idiot in him? 'Quit fuckin' around and fuck' Duh!

"Uh kay," Velma grunted, but she didn't move. Ed had two fingers in her and his thumb on her nubbin; that drained all of her willpower. She went back to neck-sucking. Besides, she was gonna pop any second... "Ngoooooo!" she moaned into his neck as the flash of a small orgasm rolled over her.

Ed grinned. Nothing like knowing your efforts were effective! "You want fingers, or you want a dick?"

"Ah wanna dick!" Velma husked.

"Then quit usin' me for a prop, and head for the bedroom!"

Ed withdrew the hand doing wonderful things in Velma's cooze, leaving an immediate feeling of emptiness. "Awright. Gimme da sheet!" Velma began to scrabble up out of the couch.

"Leave them jugs showin'. If you want me to poke somethin' it better be showin', too, when I get in there!" Ed killed the TV and the lights, eyeing Velma's broad back over the bed sheet as she waddled out of the room.

The lights took no time, so Ed arrived while Velma was still trying to figure out how to arrange herself on the bed without exposing any more than necessary. "Damn, you're slow!"

"Ah don' want y'all seein'..."

"Life sucks, don't it? I gotta think for ya? Come 'round here to the foot and back onto the bed..." It almost didn't work; Velma plopped on the foot of the bed and the head end popped up. "Get up there, before the damned thing falls apart!" Velma gingerly backed on one hand, the other clutching the sheet. Finally, she dropped her head on the pillow, still holding the sheet under her melons, tenting it with her raised spread knees. "What am I fuckin'?" Ed grunted. Cain't see anything..."

"Oh!" Velma started scrabbling; the result was a strip of sheet bunched to obscure her ample middle while basically everything else was exposed. "Howzat?"

FINALLY, Ed could see Velma's pussy! The dark chocolate exterior sure set off the shocking pink insides... Ed crawled up on the bed and hunkered down for a closer look. "Nice! Juicy!" Velma's clit had some size to it, like everything else -- nothing monstrous, but you could find it REAL easy... Puffy outer lips over thin inner ones were topped by the kinky pubes that forested her chubby mound.

"Aww, Ed! Why you got to embarrass me?" Velma covered her face.

"Dunno," Ed replied absently. "Fun I guess..." He raised himself and plopped his hands on Velma's spread knees, "So, you want some dick?"

"Whatchew think? Goddam it, Ed, quit... Aaaaaahhhh!!" Ed's glans passed her opening, and the time for talk was over.

It was every bit as good as the first time; Ed just couldn't believe it. Description -- aside from the word 'perfect' -- wasn't possible! He sank into her slowly, as her tunnel opened for him, flowering open around the blunt head of his cock. How on Earth could a woman this big have such a tiny cunt? Goddamn, it was good, though... The look on Velma's face said that her whole attention was centered on the invasion. "How's that?"

"Oooooohhhhh gaaaaawwwdddd, uuuuuuuhhhhh!" Velma moaned eyes glassy.

"Yeah, me, too..." Ed reached down and collected a couple of stiff nipples, eliciting another groan, then started to hunch and drive, slowly.

Velma decided that Ed could talk nasty all he wanted, as long as he kept sinkin' that pole of his in her cooze! That first night had been a real eye-opener, but she figured that once she knew what she was up to and developed expectations, the wonder of the thing would drop off. Not so! The bastid just lit her up with dat thing! After only three or four strokes, Velma was already transfixed, watching her first orgasm come rolling in, "Ooohhh, gawd! Ah'm gonna... NNNNNNNGGGGGHHHHH!!!!"

Velma stiffened and started clutching Ed, inside and out, her hands clutching his to her splayed knees while her tunnel tightened around him. Ed grinned and continued making meat deliveries, slowed only a bit by her straining and grunting. Velma was by far the fastest woman to get a nut that Ed had ever seen! Most of 'em just laid there and let you wonder; Velma cranked one right out and went lookin' for seconds! It was sure a big ego booster...

It made a difference in how you dealt with her, too; Ed was pretty much in the fast lane to get his own nut -- but when he hit the point of no return about three minutes in, Velma was obviously in final approach for her second. If he hadn't KNOWN she was close, he'd have just cut loose, rolled off, and that would have been that. But he DID know -- her pants and exclamations and tosses of her head told him she was on the edge -- so he rolled right through his nut, staggering a bit but gamely pounding on while his dick screamed 'overload!' A couple of seconds later, Velma wailed again, and it was all worth it; when she came down, she was sloppy with his goo but he was still hard, so he kept pounding.

The second round took ten or twelve minutes, and left him totally torched -- but Velma got three more and brought him along with her for the last one. Ed's back was gone, his knees felt like they were locked in position -- but when he collapsed across those big titties, everything shook out and he went boneless. "When you gotta get up?" he croaked.

"Fo' fo'ty five."

"Jeezus!" Ed groaned.

"Well, mebbe five thirty..." Velma re-thought her position.

"Only got one alarm," Ed grunted, waving vaguely at the nightstand. "Roll me out about six-thirty, if I live."

"Hokay." Velma collected the clock and puzzled out it's alarm function. " 'Sides, y'all GOTTA live -- ah cain't do without dis shit, now!"

But Ed was already snoring peacefully.

Armand chuckled quietly and shut off his monitor. Sharon slept next to him, using his stomach for a pillow. In the morning, he'd have to abuse her a bit -- anal sex would do quite nicely -- in order to keep her from getting ideas, but the evening had been quite enjoyable. Maybe Sharon could become a Switch -- that might be fun for her; in any case, she was at the top of the submissive totem pole here, and would undoubtedly remain so. Armand composed himself for sleep, satisfied with the day.

"Mom? Can I stay at Nora's overnight?"

Bess Porter took a look at the alarm clock and grunted into the phone, "It's damn near morning anyway, 'Nisha! What're you doing out so late?"

"We came here after the movie, and, well, time got away from us..."

"What do her folks say?"

"It's okay; they've got a spare room all ready!"

"Really?" Bess was bothered; something sounded odd. She didn't remember Nora's family being well-to-do... "This is Nora's place?"

"Well, it's her daddy's house, Mom. Nora and her mom moved back in with him. He's, well, rich!"

"Draper still there?"

"Yes, Mom." The vocals conveyed the fact that Tenisha was rolling her eyes. "Would I have lost track of time if he wasn't?"

"Maybe not," Bess chuckled. "Let me talk to Nora."

Tenisha handed Nora the phone. "We waited pretty late, so now Mom's suspicious."

"Hello?" Nora said.

"Nora, what do your folks think of this staying all night thing?" Bess asked.

"Oh, they approved it, specifically, hours ago!" Nora replied.

"How come nobody called THEN?"

"Ummm, Draper wasn't thrilled with the idea at the time, as I recall..." Nora replied.

"Daddy's kind of an odd duck," Nora added. "Draper wasn't sure that we were going to get any privacy."

"Uh huh." Clear, this wasn't. "And now?"

"I'll let you talk to him." Nora handed Draper the phone.

"H'lo," Draper murmured.

"So, what's the deal, there, Boy, and why wasn't you happy about it?" Bess prompted.

"Awww, it's okay. Pretty good, actually -- I guess they made up a room for us."

"So why was you skittish?"

"Nora's dad is kinda snoopy. I was kinda upset that he might get to diggin' in my shit." Specifics like video monitoring didn't seem to be a good idea to get into -- besides, the video WAS kinda fun to look at...

"So this is really cool with her parents?"

"Yeah."

"They givin' y'all separate rooms?"

"No. They know we're, uh..."

"And they know we approve, too? How?" Bess wanted to know.

"Well, like I said -- Nora's dad is... snoopy. He's gotta shitload of money and his own bunch private eyes..."

"Yeah? So? What makes you two interesting?"

"Where was we Prom night?" Draper returned. "Ummm..." He couldn't think of a way to be delicate about it, so... "Nate took Nora's cherry on your couch..."

"Oh, shit!" Various implications whirled through Bess' brain.

"Naw, it's okay. Dude LIKES Nate -- thinks he's done alright for hisself!"

"This IS Nate Adams we're talkin' about?"

Draper covered the mouthpiece. "I'm fuckin' this up. This thing gotta speaker?"

Nora looked about. "Yeah. One second." She clicked a button.

Tenisha picked that moment to squawk, "Jeezus, Baby! Mom's gonna freak!"

"Well, she wants ta know specifically why Nora's daddy would approve o' Nate. Shit -- how am I gonna carry THAT ball? If I was him, I'd 'a strung Nate up!" Draper grunted, irritated. He glanced at Nate.

"Shit, don't look at me!" Nate exclaimed. "All I know is it's true! If Nora's daddy wanted my ass, I'd be a greasy spot -- instead, his people are payin' Mama's hospital bills!"

Bess alerted the rest of the room that she was listening by blurting, "He is?" That Nate's mother had been attacked had been a subject of breakfast table conversation a couple of days ago, but this angle was news...

Nora decided to interject, "Daddy has certain ideas about inheritance and responsibility and a bunch of other things. Nate, well, the real reason Nate used to get into trouble was that he's kind of... high strung... and I have a cure for that..."

Bess chuckled. "You mean he's a horny little bastard, don'tcha Honey?"

Nora giggled, "Yeah."

"Howcum your daddy put up with a black boy popping your cherry?"

"Ummm, because it went well?" Nora replied. "If it had been just that, and Nate had treated me poorly, things would have been a lot different -- but we're... good for each other. Daddy has some extremist views on love and sex, but in most cases they boil down to 'live and let live'. He and Mom probably did better than they thought they were doing, but they ARE divorced, and Daddy has had a revolving door to his bedroom since, looking for a replacement, so he told me that he didn't feel qualified to pick out my boyfriends. He also said something about it being stupid to attempt to meddle and have the whole thing backfire." She smiled. "That was in the early going; now, I don't think he has ANY reservations." She eyed her boyfriend lovingly.

"Hmph." Bess regrouped. "Back to tonight, I guess. Y'all really got room?"

"You kidding?" Nora replied. "This place is a mansion!"

"Yeah, well, how many bedrooms is a mansion? Five, six?"

"I don't think that'd cover the servant's quarters, Ma'am." Nora chuckled.

"Call me Bess, Hon. I don't suppose I can talk to your folks?"

"Well, they went to bed hours ago... Hang on a second." Nora went to the door.

"We-ench..."

"Huh?" The Wench raised her head from where she'd fallen asleep in the hallway, sitting on the floor with her arms crossed over her knees. "Um, yes, Miss?"

Nora presented the Wench with the ages-old look of disgust for the foibles of parental authority. "Tenisha's mom wants to know if it's all right for her to stay overnight."

"Oh." The Wench worked to get vertical on creaky joints; there was nothing like sleeping on the floor to make you feel older than you really were... "Master is undoubtedly in bed..."

"Maybe you can reassure her?"

"Okay..." She followed Nora back into the Media Room.

"Bess?" Nora began, "Mom and Daddy are both in bed, but I brought... Felicia..." Thank God she remembered the Wench's real name!

"Okay, so who is Felicia?" Bess asked.

"I am a... servant here, in Mr. Wilson's household. I was present earlier when Mr. Wilson directed that a room be made ready for your daughter..."

"What about her boyfriend?" Bess asked sharply.

The Wench thought fast. "Arrangements were made for him, too." The Wench thought some more. "I'm loathe to awaken them, but..."

"Maybe we can wake up Mama," Nora interjected.

"I think they're together, Miss," the Wench replied. "Mistress Sharon was with Master when he left here, and I did not see her return to her rooms." She cringed at the slips made in identifying Armand and Sharon, mirroring a similar cringe on Nora's part. "Ummm, short of that, I could give you the callback number, or awaken Jason..."

Oddly, though, the obvious servitude in her forms of address mollified Bess. "Never mind -- well, give me the number, in case I need it. Tenisha?"

"Mom?"

"If I find out later that you're somewhere you ain't supposed to be..." she warned.

"Mom, I promise! It's just the four of us and we're not doing anything..."

"Okay, call me in the morning, then. You and Draper stay out of trouble!"

"Yes, Mom." More eye rolling.

"And what's that number?" Bess asked. The Wench read it off. "All right. Goodnight, everybody! Behave!" She hung up.

The Wench sighed. "Master might not have been angry -- he might have even been awake..."

"Well, I'd rather he yelled at me..." Nora replied. "Let's go get a look at that room." Ten minutes later, everyone was settled in for the night.

Randall had never been to Mary's, and was suitably impressed, "Very nice!"

Mary merely smiled and moved off; Darla Jean filled Randall in, "It was supposed to be a mother-in-law apartment. Huge, huh?"

"Yeah." Randall mulled a bit, "So exactly what are we doing?"

"I don't think there is an 'exactly'," Darla Jean replied. "I think basically, we're going to get naked again, and look each other over. After that, I think we're welcome to stay and do our own thing and watch and be watched while they do theirs. That's what I THINK..." Her expression sought confirmation, "That IS okay, isn't it?"

"Yeah..." Randall nodded -- but he was still clearly harboring additional questions.

Mary stuck her head out of the closet, "Stick, I managed to wangle some more beer... Want to offer it around?"

"Sure." Stick hit the refrigerator. "Mick? Miller? Bud? Something light? They ain't enough for anyone to get blotto, or turn up wit' alcohol poisoning, or anything... Ted, Bud Lite?"

"Is that what I had before?"

"Yeah."

"Okay." Teddy drifted over and collected the beer after Stick popped the cap, and took a swig.

Darla Jean looked uncertain. "I've never..." She looked to Randall.

"It doesn't hurt anything, in small amounts. While there probably is enough to get US drunk, all we have to do is take it easy -- as in one..." Turning to Stick, he murmured, "Miller?" holding up two fingers.

"Light or MGD?" Stick asked.

Randall eyed Darla Jean, "Ummm, one of each."

"Comin' up." Stick did the honors, delivering the two bottles and returning to get a Michelob. "Cop a squat," he grunted, waving at the couch and chairs.

Darla Jean tipped up her bottle, made a face. Randall chuckled. "It's an acquired taste -- but that will keep you from drinking too much on your first outing. The alcohol should loosen everybody up a bit, but you don't want it to interfere with your data collection."

Stick plopped in a recliner, basically driving the other couple to the couch. Teddy settled in a kitchen chair after tugging it around next to the recliner. Mary returned and plopped on the recliner arm in her green nightie -- which exposed her a bit, especially from the couch. Addressing Randall, she said, "I didn't figure that we had to do the incredible exploding woman thing; this will expose all of the important parts while allowing you to keep your dinner down."

Randall blinked. This hadn't been his ball game, but Mary just put it firmly in his court. "I'm sure I'd have survived; they both look fine," he replied, waving at Stick and Teddy. "So, what's the plan?"

"Well," Mary sighed, "you shouldn't leave tonight, if you're gonna drink, so I figure you two get the couch..."

"It's comfortable," Stick interjected, prompting smiles.

"As for science and sex," Mary continued, "I'm not sure where one leaves off and the other begins. I know that Darla Jean wants to get a real close look at my boys..."

"Ummm, actually, Randall and I've been introduced, but I haven't really EXAMINED him..." Darla Jean interjected.

Randall blinked, and Mary laughed. "I guess, given the way some people do sex, knowing it works and knowing what it looks like are two different things..."

"Uh, how thorough an exam are we talking about?" Teddy asked nervously.

Mary smiled, then deliberately got up and switched chair arms on the recliner so that she was seated between Stick and Teddy so she could ruffle his hair. "Teddy tends to get pretty excited on the first pass..."

"Oh, uh," Darla Jean glanced at Randall. "I'd hoped to touch..." Was this going too far? Randall looked momentarily pensive, raised his eyebrows and shrugged.

Mary giggled. "Well, if he shoots, you'll get a sperm sample -- a BIG one!"

"Mary!" Teddy blushed nearly purple.

Stick shrugged. "If we all kinda stand in a row, she can do equal time -- get direct comparisons..."

"That's fair," Mary agreed. "I might as well just follow Darla Jean -- or we can look together. After that, we girls can line up and the boys can get equal time..." Stick leaned up and whispered in Mary's ear, but, eyeing Randall, she shook her head no. "I don't think so, Hon."

Stick shrugged and sat back, muttering, "Equal time..."

"What?" Randall asked sharply.

"Ummm, Stick's suggestion is... delicate. Darla Jean?" She waved off toward the bedroom area. Darla Jean got up and followed, mildly baffled. In the face of what they were talking about, what could be 'delicate'?

Once over by the bed, Darla Jean gave voice to the query, "Delicate?"

"Well, yeah," Mary replied. "Stick mentioned that you and I might not be the only ones interested in examining a different dick..."

"Oh."

"Stick was thinking of Teddy. He's not really much on the giving end, if you know what I mean. But he has a point. On the other hand, knowing that this is a touchy subject with Randall..."

Darla Jean pondered this. In a perfect world, Randall would stand still for it -- maybe even conduct an exam of his own! But just how perfect WAS her shiny new mate? "I'll have to ask. He's working on it, but this is asking a lot. He really needs to sit and think a while and sort this thing out, and we're pressing him pretty hard."

"I understand. Should I leave?"

"Well, you might need to be close by..."

"Okay." Mary gave Stick the high sign, pointing at Randall. "Darla Jean needs to talk to Randall."

Stick nodded and got Randall's attention, pointing, and Randall got up. Joining Darla Jean, he murmured, "Delicate?"

"Mmmm, yes. This one's on you -- I can't make the call. Basically, the idea was that we shouldn't limit ourselves to examination by sex."

Randall blinked, frowned. "You mean Teddy and Stick?"

"Well, yes, but --" Darla Jean hesitated, "How much comparative examination of male genitals have YOU done?"

"Sorry?"

"Do you know how you stack up?"

"Ummm, it's... discouraged."

Darla Jean nodded. "Especially around your house, I bet. I realize this is 'way out there, and we're rushing you on this, but..."

"Yeah, I know, unique opportunity, and all that..."

"There's something else that occurred to me. It's potentially explosive, and might crash our relationship right here, but if you're as capable of looking at things logically as I hope you are..."

Randall tensed. "What?"

"You're dad's reaction is serious denial, right? Like he's hiding from something..." Darla Jean waited for the hammer to fall.

"Oh. Shit. Like he might have enjoyed some part of it, and he can't stand himself."

"I, uh..."

"Shhh!" Randall rubbed his forehead. "You said what needed saying -- don't back up on yourself! While we're all being honest, here, are you going to fuck those two? Suck their cocks?"

"I... don't know." Darla Jean hung her head. "It would be..."

"...The most complete examination."

"Yes." Randall was gone; he might last the night, just to take advantage of her, sexually, but he was gone -- Darla Jean was certain of it.

"You ARE pressing me pretty hard, here," Randall grunted. "I come off like a total wuss -- with Stick, especially. Can you imagine how it will be for me if he lets his friends all know that you'll fuck them and I'll put up with it?"

"If we can't make him understand, I won't do anything -- I promise."

Randall stood there, his face stony. "You're worth it," he ground out, "Aren't you?"

"I certainly hope so," Darla Jean replied. "If you handle all of this, I'll have a lot to prove..."

Randall smiled. "You WILL, won't you? Wave Mary over." Darla Jean did so. "You realize that by now even what might be considered normal rules are, like, out the window? I don't know where this is going."

"Well, we can set our own limits," Darla Jean offered. "Umm, obviously, if I go very far with the boys..."

"... I'll be expected to do similarly with Mary," Randall finished.

"Yeah. I'd expect it; Mary will expect it. Even the boys will expect it."

"Well, if it goes that far, I'll be meeting expectation, if for no other reason than anything less makes me look like a fool. Besides, I might learn something..." Mary arrived; Randall kicked off with, "Everybody examines everybody?"

Mary went poker-faced. "That's one way of expressing it."

"What are the limits?"

"Whatever the two people involved agree to, I guess," Mary murmured.

"There's another thing," Darla Jean interjected. "Randall is worried that Stick will get the wrong idea about this -- spread it around that I'm easy and Randall likes to watch, or is too weak to stand up for himself..."

Mary chuckled. "Well, we can work on that, but really, Randall, you have MUCH better blackmail material on Stick! If and when his relationship with Teddy becomes general knowledge, he's gonna lose a lot of face in his neighborhood."

"All right -- on one condition. Why Teddy and Stick in the first place?" Randall queried.

"Well..."

"No. I want to hear it from them."

Mary shrugged. "That's fair -- I think." Leading Darla Jean and Randall back across the floor, Mary filled the others in, "Okay, Honey, you asked for it -- everybody can look at whatever they want; limits are set between whoever is looking and whoever is being looked at. I guess that means if you want something, you ask first. Cool?"

Stick and Teddy crossed glances, and Teddy took the lead, "What if things aren't, umm, even?"

Randall glanced at Darla Jean, but handled this, "Reciprocity is expected." Teddy nodded, but Stick frowned, obviously uncertain, so he amplified, "If you allow something, you should expect to get similar access from that person when you go looking for it. You don't have to pursue it, but you should be able to do the same kind of examination to the other person as he or she did to you." He and Darla Jean resumed their seats on the couch.

"Okay, so we're all on the same sheet of music." Stick took a pull of his beer.

"Basically," Mary agreed, "But let's say things go 'way far. Stick, Randall and Darla Jean aren't sure you understand what's going on here, in the first place, and if there are misunderstandings, stupid things can happen."

"Awright. I gotta admit it ain't all clear."

"Okay, Hon," Mary took it up. "This is an experience thing -- for all of us. Even if we all pile on each other and have wild sex where nobody knows who is plugged into who, we're not doing it because somebody is... forget that." Mary drew a breath, "Lookit, there is a worry you'll just think Darla Jean is easy, and Randall's too chicken to stop her. That isn't how it is."

"Yeah, yeah, it's more scientific than that. I know. But it's still sex..."

"Well, that's true," admitted Darla Jean, "however far it goes. And however far it goes, I'll want to enjoy myself. But really, it's about comparisons."

"So, I'm gonna be a dot on a graph?" Stick grinned.

"Maybe several graphs. But you'll be an anonymous dot. And there won't be any second set of tests."

Mary cleared her throat. "There's another thing. You wanted something, something that pushed Randall here a bit to provide. He's agreed, but he wants something, too."

"Yeah?" Stick grunted.

Mary nodded at Randall, who voiced it, "I want to know why?"

"Why what?"

"Why you two."