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Subject: {ASSM} The Last Fling: Thelma's Secret {Varkel} (Mff MF Oral)
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The Last Fling

April to December Twice
Presented as a Series of Episodes by Varkel
Copyright (c) Varangian and Kellis, January, 2002



Episode 7:  Thelma's Secret


"Reggie, you once told us that twats have always ruled the
world."

Anita stared at the young man defiantly with owlish eyes.  She
seemed intent on setting him up, although he appeared not to
realize it.

"Perhaps I did say something like that, Nita.  Someone has called
it the 'Labial Theory' of history, but I don't subscribe to it."

"Subscribe?" Betsy grinned ironically.  "History is like a
magazine?"

"I mean I don't agree with it."

"If it's a magazine," the blonde continued with a sneer, "men are
the writers."

"Indeed most historians are men, Betsy.  What's your point?"

She shrugged.  "They give themselves all the credit."

"Well, not entirely.  We've already studied several women who
were given the credit, as you say.  I remind you of Cleopatra,
Elizabeth I, Catherine the Great --"

Betsy was nodding.  "'Cause they couldn't settle on a _man_ for
the job."

He shook his head.  "Sometimes, perhaps, but in fact there were
many reasons --"

Anita interrupted in a decisive tone.  "Men like for twats to
rule."

"They do?  Why do you say that?"

"You let one rule _you_, don't you?" she groused.  "An old one.
I don't understand it.  You've been away with her for three
whole days this time.  She can't fuck better than the two of us."

"Of course not," Betsy snapped.  "We're younger!"

"Younger and prettier too!" the small brunette ranted.  "What's
so great about her flabby old twat?"

"Sex is not everything," Reggie responded with a smug grin.
"Thelma is a mature person who appreciates more than just my
cock."

"Not everything?" Betsy exclaimed and jumped to her feet.  "Yeah,
it's not everything when you've got too much of it.  Reggie, you
dummy, you think you now have all the pussy in the world and
it'll last forever, don't you!"

Anita also stood.  "Remember when you first came here?  You ain't
got laid but a couple of times in your whole life.  I caught you
whacking off, you's so hard up!"

Betsy put a hand on the smaller one's shoulder and turned to face
her with narrowed eyes.  "Maybe that old bag can last as long as
Reggie.  You think that's it, Nita?"

"But they's _two_ of us," Anita responded.  "I bet we could wear
him out."  An impish grin spread her lips.  "We could take turns
on him till he can't get it up no more and begs for mercy."

"Girls, girls!"  He rapped on the table with a ruler.  "You're
grammar is going to pot.  Calm down!  We're supposed to be
studying history this morning."

"This _is_ history, Mr. Teacher," Betsy sneered.  "At least it
will be in a little while when you're worn out and lying on the
floor with a useless cock."

"Yeah!" the smaller one exclaimed into the man's face.  "Then you
can go back to Thelma and she can _appreciate_ what's left of
you."

The two girls trapped the young man in his chair.  Betsy pulled
up his buttoned shirt until it caught on his head while the
smaller one jerked his shorts below the knees.

"Don't rip the clothes," he shouted in amusement.  "I suppose we
can have a recess now."

"Playtime!" Betsy announced.

"Yeah!  Time out for fucking!" Anita added and pulled down the
man's shorts to reveal his impressive tool at full erection.

Reggie rose to his feet, shrugged the girls aside and stripped
naked.

"So, you want to have a contest," he announced confidently.
"Who's first?"

The two girls looked at each other slyly then put their heads
close together for a whispered consultation.  Anita suddenly ran
from the room while Betsy moved to the side of the huge bed.

"She'll be right back, Reg," the blonde explained with a smirk.
She began to undress.  "You can start with me."

He watched her strip and lie back upon the bed with legs wide
spread over the edge.  She smiled and extended a hand in
invitation.  He leaned over between her legs, supporting himself
on one arm.  She guided him into her.  Upon penetration he thrust
all the way home.

"Oomph!" she gasped, adding with a grin, "You do love to shove,
don't you, teach?"

His response was to begin a relentless pounding of long, hard
strokes.  The blonde's face registered satisfaction and the onset
of pleasure, but wide-open eyes suggested a worry that her
challenge might have been a mistake.

Anita raced back into the room with a substantial dildo in one
hand and a jar of Vaseline in the other.  She stood behind the
laboring man for a moment to grease the instrument.  When
finished, she positioned the rubber substitute at his anus and
pushed it in with the weight of her body behind it, exclaiming in
triumph, "Cavalry to the rescue, Betsy!"

Reggie emitted a squawk, paused in mid stroke but did not seek to
free himself from the invasion.  He quickly resumed his probing
of Betsy while Anita worked the dildo gleefully from behind.

After a couple of minutes the man pressed his body against
Betsy's, arched his head up and yelled, "Oh, Christ!"

"We did it!  We did it!" Anita crowed and yanked the seven-inch
tool free of him.

Reggie collapsed to his knees on the floor, leaning against the
bed between the blonde's dangling legs.  He looked up at Anita in
astonishment.

"How did you think of that?" he asked.  He shook his head
ruefully.  "That was the best ever."

"We know you like boys fucking you, Reggie!" the smaller
exclaimed excitedly, skipping in place.  "We guessed this would
bring you off in a hurry."

He grinned and rose to his feet.  "But I'm not done yet," he
announced.  "You're next, Nita."

Betsy struggled to her feet.  "But you were too quick, Reg," she
grumbled with a frown.  "You didn't finish me."

Nevertheless she took the dildo from Anita.  The small brunette
spread herself invitingly on the bed face up.  The man positioned
himself over her but turned back to regard Betsy.

"Ease it in, sweetheart.  Don't jam it," he pleaded briefly.

"Yeah, just like you do us!"

She was gentle despite the sarcasm.  Having penetrated him, she
found that when she held the dildo rigidly still, the pumping man
became the moving cylinder to her piston.

"Ooo," he began to moan in time to his thrusts into the smaller
woman, who answered in soprano harmony.

Betsy frowned with envy.  "You still owe me, Reggie," she
admonished.  "I'm next."


* * *


Later that morning Lou and Jack glanced into the classroom to
learn the cause of unaccustomed quiet in the house.  Reggie and
the two girls dozed on the bed in a tangle of limbs.  The place
reeked of sex, but schoolbooks lay open on the table and a
diagram, apparently of royal succession, graced the whiteboard.

"School days were never like that for me," Lou remarked
wistfully.

"I think we missed something, pal," Jack groused, "unless you had
the camera set on automatic.

"Not I."  The stout one grinned wryly.  "It's _your_ rule not to
leave them turned on all night."

"Might cause a fire.  Should we wake the kids up?"

"You mean, kiss their cunts, like Sleeping Beauties?"

The tall man sneered, "I'll leave Reggie to you!"

Chuckling, they turned and left the room, pulling the door closed
silently.  "I'll bet we did miss something," muttered Lou as they
went down the hall.

"Sometimes the girls leave the equipment on," Jack commented
hopefully.

"Not the cameras."

"It won't hurt to check."

In the secret room one glance at the recently installed control
panel told the tale.

"_Somebody_ turned them on -- in automatic mode, too!" cried Lou.

Jack added, "And put in a fresh cassette."

They waited impatiently for the tape to rewind.  Through the
one-way mirrors the two girls and their instructor, all
birth-naked save for the man's wristwatch, remained entangled on
the bed, motionless except for gently heaving breasts.

"Hit it!" cried Jack when the _Ready_ lamp relit.  Both old men
stared in fascination at the depicted scene.  Reggie was pumping
madly atop one of the girls -- Betsy, the watchers decided from
glimpses of blonde hair.

"Where's Nita?" Jack demanded.

"Probably went to turn on the cameras."

As he spoke the scene shifted to the left and followed the
brunette, also nude, hurrying toward the bed with something in
each hand.  The Doppler sensors had switched to her because she
was moving much faster than the mating couple.

"That's not all she went for," Jack remarked with a gape.  Both
men laughed at Reggie's subsequent gasp and shudder.  "Where the
hell did she get that fake dick?"

Lou cleared his throat.  "As a matter of fact, I bought them a
few toys."

"Did you!"  The tall man grinned slyly around at his friend.  "I
guess it follows, then, that you won't have to ask Reggie how it
feels."


* * *


"You a-sleeping, Lou?"

"Uh, harrumph!  No, just drowsing.  That you, Betsy?"

"Nah.  It's your new girl."

"My what?"

Just enough corner lamplight filtered through the drapes to
discern a grayer than black outline before him.  He rose up on an
elbow, but shook his head.  That was Betsy's voice!

Something heavy depressed the bed beside him.  His hand felt a
cool thigh, firm but smooth.  Another's hand stroked his belly
through the sheet.

With a grin he said lightly, "A new girl, eh?"

She demanded, "Where's the end of this --"

She found the top of the sheet and threw it off him.  He was not
surprised when her hand immediately encircled his flaccid
manhood.

He noted dryly, "You've found the end, all right.  What time is
it?"

"Your clock says 3:51, but who cares?"

"Couldn't you sleep?  Get in here beside me and let's cuddle."

More weight depressed the bedside.  His hand on her thigh was
suddenly in a thicket of wiry hair.  Automatically he found the
clit and the moist aperture beneath it.  Her hand cupped his
scrotum.  She seemed content to sit beside him, thigh contacting
his knee.

She asked, "How much did these braces cost?"

He thought a moment before responding, "As you said, who cares?"

"Girl at the mall showed up with them a while back, said her guy
paid five grand.  What did _you_ pay?"

"About that, but so what?  You're already becoming a beautiful
woman, princess.  When those teeth straighten up, you'll also be
perfect."

She drew in a breath.  "Oh, god, Lou!"

"What's the matter?"

"I don' know nothing else to do for you!"

"Oh yeah?  I remind you, sugar, you're about to do a whole lot
for me in five and a half months."

"Huh?  Oh.  You mean the brat."

"The brat!" he repeated scornfully.  "Our baby shall be no brat.
I'll see to that!"

"If you ..."  Her voice trailed off.

"If I what -- last long enough?"

The bed bounced as she repositioned her body.  With a slurp she
took his partial erection into her mouth.  She sucked a few
strokes before releasing him to say, "You won't die soon.  Jack
says you're healthy as a horse."

Lou grunted.  "I hope he's right.  What's the matter, Betsy?  Do
you miss Reggie?"

"You think that's it?  Don't you watch the school lessons
anymore?"

"Is something different about them?"

"Reggie fucks us in the daytime nowadays."  She chuckled.  "He's
losing weight."

"Is he?  I didn't think he had any to spare.  Doesn't his amorous
landlady feed him well?"

"He says she can outlast him."

"Does he!  Ha!  I can just imagine it: her stamina increases
while his falls off.  He'd better look out.  According to Jack,
stamina is what Reggie's there for."

"Thelma _Greedy_!" the girl pronounced sarcastically.  "Well, let
her.  Nita and I talked it over.  Getting fucked to sleep is just
too satisfying."

"Too what?"

"Leaves you too mopey the next day.  We like it better the way it
was."

He sniffed.  "You don't mean that, Betsy.  Two old men can't
begin to satisfy even _one_ sexy young woman!"

She chuckled sheepishly.  "Wa'n't just two old men, Lou."

He thought that over.  "You did go out a lot."

"It's easy to get laid."

He took a breath and said crossly, "Yeah.  It's easy to get AIDS,
too, and its cousins.  Remember what the OB-GYN doctor showed
you?"

His organ, now fully erect in her hand, felt the contact of her
chin as she nodded.  "I remember."  She shivered lightly.  "Awful
pictures!  But we taking care.  We stay to the young guys that
take showers."

He sighed.  "Asking you to let me check them out first would be
stupid and a waste of breath, I know, but I wish you would."

He heard the grin in her voice.  "You wanta taste their dicks
first, Lou?"

He chuckled.  "You still think I want a boy, don't you?"

"'Cause you still do.  Well, here you go.  I'm a boy.  Think
about Jaimey."

Her mouth enclosed him again, but her angle was different now.
Something raked the shaft painfully.  His hands caught her head
and raised it away.

"Suddenly I see what you mean about a new girl."

"What's the matter?"

"A girl with a new mouth, at least.  Something on your teeth
snagged me."

"Oh, no!"

She jumped off the bed.  In a second she reached the wall switch
and flooded the room with ceiling light.  He had an instant to
appreciate her lush nakedness and the belly now beginning to
swell before she descended again to take his organ in hand.

"My god, Lou!  Is it cut?"

He laughed.  "Yeah, about an hour after I was born."

She snapped her head up to blink at him.  "Wh-what?"

Still chuckling, he brought a finger up beside the shaft.  "See
if it's scratched about here."

She inspected him closely.  "N-no," she reported.  Again raising
her head, she put a finger into her mouth.  Her eyes widened.
"Oh, no!"

"You feel it, do you?"

"Ith a war," she mumbled around the finger.

He nodded.  "One the orthodontist didn't cut close enough."  His
nod became a headshake.  "Looks like your dick-sucking days are
over for a while, princess."

Out came the finger.  She stared in consternation.  "I'll take
care!"

"I'm sure you would.  I'm the one who'll forget."

"But I _like_ to suck dicks!"

"You've proven it, too."  He grinned slowly.  "There is
consolation."

"What?"

"Your other boyish end is just about tight enough to do its own
sucking."

"Oh," she muttered thoughtfully.

He chuckled.  "I never had a dick in my ass, sweetie.  Tell me
what it's like.  Does it cause you any trouble afterwards?"

"No," she answered, "long as we don't take anything but dicks.
That's according to Granny."

"How about _Jack's_ dick?"

"Not even Jack's dick."  Her face grew solemn.  "I hear that's
the main way you get AIDS."

He nodded.  "A prime way."

Her expression was resolute.  "Then me and Nita'll save our
assholes for you and Jack."

He smiled complacently.  "That's a great idea!  At least they'll
never need braces."



* * *



"I'll get it!" Anita called from the hallway in response to the
door chime.

Jack was pleased with that, because as a guest in Lou's house he
did not expect any visitors.  He turned a page in the book he was
reading, an account of the siege of Leningrad from the German
perspective.

Footsteps on the hall carpet reached the den doorway.  "It's
Thelma," the small girl announced in obvious disapproval.

Jack raised his head to regard the two females.  They contrasted
starkly in height and age, but he considered them equally
alluring sexually, each in her own fashion.  He placed the book
on a side table and stood to face them.

"Hello, stranger," he greeted the older woman, closing the
distance towards her.

Anita made a face at him and scurried away, leaving them alone
and facing each other.

The woman blinked nervously.  "It's your fault I haven't returned
earlier," she explained after accepting a peck on the lips.

"How is it my fault?" he objected.  "You disappeared after such a
marvelous afternoon!"

"But you were the one who introduced me to that devil Reggie.
You persuaded me to have sex with him, and now I'm his slave.
I've scarcely been out of bed for a week, and when he's away
teaching your girls I masturbate thinking of his return.  He's
not human, Jack.  He's truly a devil of some sort."

"He's human enough, sweetheart, although I admit some capricious
deity has gifted him remarkably.  I take it then you haven't come
here for what little I can offer.  Well, my dear, I'm glad to see
you in any case."

He put his left arm around her and drew her close enough for his
right hand to squeeze the impressive bosom.  Their kiss lingered.

"I love to snuggle with you, Jack, like I did with my daddy.  You
know that," she whispered in his ear.  "Let's go up to that big
room of yours and get comfortable.  I want to do something really
sweet for you."

"That would please me very much, Thelma.  Do you want to do that
now or wait until you're finished with whatever other business
brought you here?"

"Don't be cruel, Jack.  I do have some papers for Lou to sign but
it's you I've come to visit."

"Lou's somewhere else in this big house," he murmured, holding
her in a tight embrace, "probably playing with his stock
portfolio.  Let's go wait for him in my room where, as you have
said, we can get comfortable."

They were interrupted by a disturbance from the hallway where the
girls approached with a clatter.  Anita was heard to say, "He
don't need _me_ here!"

Betsy stuck her head into the room, mouth open for an
announcement, but Jack spoke first.

"How can you girls make so much noise on a carpeted floor?"

The girl's eyebrows rose.  "You sound cross, Jack.  Well, don't
worry."  Her tone became derisive.  "_She_ can take care of you,
just like she does Reggie.  Nita and I are going to the mall."
Both turned and clumped away toward the front door.

"How convenient," Jack remarked after clearing his throat.  "We
have this part of the house to ourselves.  There's no need to
climb the stairs."

But Thelma was grinning with a degree of pleasure.  "So your, ah,
_granddaughters_ see me as a rival, do they?  Do you have any
idea how extremely flattering that is to an older woman?"

"I have an inkling.  They thought of Reggie as their own
property, you know.  I think your advent may have a salutary
effect."  His arm went around her.  "You see that button behind
the couch?  If  I press it, this couch becomes a bed."

"Not down here, lover," she said, her fingertips stroking his
cheek seductively.  "I prefer that big bedroom of yours."

"Oh?" he asked with a tilt of his head.  "You value the room more
than the bed?"

"It's you I value, Jack, and it would be much nicer making love
in your bed instead of on this couch in a public room."

"There's a bed in our make-do classroom just down the hall.  You
know, the room with all the mirrors."  Jack eyed her slyly.

Thelma wrinkled her nose and twisted her shoulders in rejection.
"That's not a very intimate place, Jack," she said.

"But who would be watching?" he persisted.

She gave him a quick, surprised look, opened her mouth then
closed it without speaking.

"Perhaps you're familiar with this house from the previous
occupant," he suggested, taking her arm.  "But if you want to
visit my room again, I'm willing."

She pulled him to a stop.  "Wait, Jack."  She avoided his staring
eyes.  "Why did you say that?"

"What?"

"About the previous occupant."  When he hesitated, she continued,
"It's true.  I did visit Ms. Creighton sometimes on business."
She emitted a brittle chuckle.  "In fact, did you know that _you_
are sleeping in her bed instead of Lou?"

"In _her_ bed?"

"Yes.  Lou's bedroom is in her guest suite."

Jack grunted.  "Lou calls my room his guest suite."

"Well, I guess he can call it whatever he wants."  She took a
breath, eyes narrowing.  "You're different, Jack."

"_I_ different?"  He grinned.  "How have I changed?"

"A woman can always tell when she has fallen in a man's esteem,
however slightly.  It's not just Reggie, is it?"

"No, not just Reggie, though I think you're mistaken."  He
leered.  "'Fallen' is not the word I'd use."

She sniffed.  "I assume you've discovered the, ah, peculiarities
of that room with all the mirrors -- to which you've added a lot
more."

"We have indeed, Thelma."  He palmed her cheek affectionately.
"We've discovered Ms. Creighton's tape archive."  His lips
brushed her forehead.  "You've been _such_ a naughty girl," he
whispered and kissed her lips.

"You've seen _everything_?"  She trembled in his arms.  "I can
explain," she added quickly and stood back to study his face.

"I don't require an explanation, sweetheart.  The tapes show you
enjoying yourself when you were a younger woman.  I never really
believed that story about 25 years of chastity after your
father's death."

"It wasn't all a lie, Jack," she whimpered.  "You do resemble my
father, and I was initially drawn to you because of that."

He smiled broadly.  "No harm's been done.  Some time you can tell
me the reason for taping those orgies -- if any reason exists
beyond pure debauchery.  Maybe you'd like to get naked and we can
watch a couple of them together."

Her eyes searched his.  "You didn't ... find anything _too_
awful?"

He chuckled indulgently.  "Do you really believe I might find
abhorrent anything men and women do to each other for fun -- at
my age?"

She visibly relaxed.  Her original cheerfulness returned
magnified inexplicably.  She ran her hands along his upper arms,
squeezing to feel the muscles.

"I don't need to look at other people to get me ready for you,
big guy.  Let's go upstairs and do it in real time."

"Thank you, my dear."  He took her hand but turned the wrong way
into the hall.

She followed him past the next den then asked, "Where are we
going?"

"I wasn't the only one who saw those tapes."

"I guess not.  Lou, of course.  The girls too?"

"Yes."

"And Reggie?"

"No.  I don't believe Reggie knows about the secret room or the
real reason for all those mirrors."

"Good.  You _have_ added to them, haven't you!  That means you've
also been making tapes, doesn't it?"

He only chuckled but it was enough.

"I see.  Reggie and the girls have starred in them, I gather."
She giggled.  "I know from experience that if you keep it up,
pretty soon he's going to ask why they keep wanting him to turn
just so."

"What do you recommend?"

"Not to use the same man too often.  Or make him a conspirator.
This is interesting, Jack.  You and Lou don't strike me as
gangsters.  And I looked you up.  You weren't in the
entertainment business.  What do you plan to do with your tapes?"

They had reached the back den, where Lou had set up his computer.
The stout man looked around as they entered.

Jack said, "Thelma wants to know what we plan for our tapes."

"Oh, she does!"  Lou jumped to his feet with a smile of welcome.
"Good afternoon, Ms. Greeley."

She laughed, turning her face up to be kissed.  "Lou, please call
me Thelma like half the men in this town used to do."

"All right, Thelma.  It's a pleasure to see you for something
other than business."

She responded airily, "Oh, there's all kinds of business, Lou!"

He chuckled.  "You know it.  Where are the girls, Jack?"

"Gone to the mall."  His hands reached to her shoulders.  "May I
help you with this jacket?"

Frowning, she shrugged back.  "Please, Jack."

At his raised eyebrows she sighed and smiled in acceptance toward
Lou.  "I realize you both know what I am -- at least, what I
_was_."  She turned back to Jack.  "But if we're to have fun,
especially all three of us, I really would prefer it in your
bedroom.  That bed is the best in the house, even better than a
waterbed."

The tall man shrugged.  "As you wish, madam.  Care to take a
break, Lou?"

"I certainly do!"  His hand fell lightly on the woman's buttocks,
plump beneath the thin skirt.  "Since you know that we know,
Thelma, let me ask if you remember the guy you called 'Piler?'"

She sniffed.  "My bottom remembers him well!"

Lou smiled expansively.  "That's the part I had in mind."


* * *


"Are you sure a girl is under there?" asked Jack incredulously,
staring at the large screen in the TV den.

Tired of the repetitious news shows, with Lou's approval he had
directed Anita to switch the output of the video tape recorder in
the secret room to this 48-inch screen.  Both men felt an
obligation at least to sample the huge store of tapes from Vivian
Creighton's secret life.  The girls, who had never seen
pornography despite their lifelong sexual indulgence, sustained a
fascination with this material far more enduring than that of the
old men.  They rarely failed to review less than an hour of it
each day.

Presently the screen depicted a zoom-up on the huge bed, which
contained three bodies writhing in a tangle of arms and legs.

"Yeah, she's sorta in the middle," Anita answered.   "See that
leg with no hair?  Bet she's having fun."

Lou grinned at the envy in the brunette's tone.  "Are you sure
it's a girl?"

"She got in bed with them before I switched it in here."

Jack chuckled significantly.  "No doubt -- 20 years before."

"Huh?" Anita blinked then grinned.  "Not that much.  This one is
dated 1985."

Jack regarded her speculatively.  "Did you ever do that?  It's
called a sandwich.  Some say a _Greek_ sandwich."

She shook her head.  "No.  I never fucked two guys at once."  She
shivered slightly.  "But, wow!"

Both old men chuckled appreciatively.

"Betsy has," she continued, "when Luke lost her to that
motorcycle gang."

"_Lost_ her?" Lou demanded.

"They were shooting craps.  She stayed with them a week before
she got free and came back to me and Granny ... and Luke."

"My god!" Lou exclaimed.  "I would think she'd _hate_ Luke after
that!"

"Oh, no.  She said it was the most fun.  She wanted him to lose
her again."

"How many were there?"

"In the gang?  I don't know.  She said she fucked six at once."

"_Six_!"  Lou partly rose from his chair to look around.  "Where
_is_ Betsy?  I'd like to know how she managed that!"

"She's upstairs."  Anita made a face.  "Reading."

Both sets of elderly eyes widened.  Lou asked, "What's she
reading?"

The girl shrugged.  "Something about history.  Reggie gave it to
her."

"I'm impressed!" breathed Jack.

Lou grinned wryly.  "Maybe.  I saw it: a Greaves novel about camp
followers during the Crusades -- but I guess it's the reading
that counts.  Why aren't you reading, 'Nita?"

The girl sniffed.  "I'd sooner hear what y'all say about sharing
gals.  Did one of you ever help another guy with the same one?"

"Not I," declared Jack firmly.

When Lou only stared at the screen, Anita said, "You did, Lou?
What was it like?"

The stout man chuckled with a tinge of embarrassment.  "I was
drunk."

"You don't remember?"

"It was in Korea just after the armistice."

"What happened?"

Lou took a deep breath.  "One of our girls took my buddy's wallet
and ran.  The other one got tangled in some vines.  We, um,
fucked her together.  But not like that."  He sighed.  "We were
very young."

Anita's eyes glowed with interest.  "Not in a sandwich?"

"No.  My buddy made her suck.  Not that she minded...  What's
that?  Oh.  He's coming."

The TV resounded with male grunts and groans.  The man on top of
the pile raised up, arching his back, to bellow his satisfaction.
Soon he backed out of the pairs of legs and crawled around them
toward the woman's turned-away face.  "Lick it clean," he told
her, knees spread wide, hips thrusting forward below the camera's
view.  Dark hair fluttered around the suddenly bobbing head.

"Would you do that?" Lou asked Anita curiously.

"Oh, wow!"

Lou shook his head at Jack, who only smiled.

The girl grinned around at Lou.  "You would too.  I seen you lick
out Betsy."

"Ah, um."  Lou cleared his throat.

"Well, look at that!" Anita exclaimed as the bodies shifted
somewhat.  The woman's back still lay on the man's belly but now
it was possible to see between the remaining pairs of legs.
"They was _both_ in her cunny."

The woman rose to a sitting position athwart the prone man's
hips.  Long dark hair swung to cover her face but not before Jack
noted, "Thelma again!"

On the screen she continued forward to the support of her
extended hands, full breasts swaying, and raised her hips to
dislodge the second penis.  Lithely she swung a leg over the man
and stood beside the bed, one hand in her groin.  She brought it
up dripping as the camera zoomed out to include the whole bed.

The young Thelma's recognizable contralto emanated from the TV.
"So you came off together!"

"So what?" said he who had demanded the cleansing.

"So you like rubbing another dick.  I'll bet you're both
faggots!"

"Shut up!"

With her back to the camera the woman sniggered.  "I won't tell
anybody."

"Nice of you," said the man still lying flat.  His voice was
deepest.  "How do you like two dicks at once?"

She giggled.  "Hot stuff!"

"Really?  I didn't think they were doing much for you."

"Oh, you'd be surprised."  She chuckled.  "Faggots don't know a
lot about women, do you?"

"Know what?"

"Doesn't it feel good when a mouth slips over your dick, even if
you don't yet feel the thrill?  Well, it's the same in a twat,
which is at least as sensitive as a dick."

The kneeling man sneered.  "Sex education from a whore!"

Thelma sniffed.  "Too bad the schools won't hire us."

Both men laughed.

At that moment a housecoated woman entered the picture.  The pale
hairstyle identified her as Vivien Creighton.  She had appeared
in many of the tapes, though seldom as an actress.

"Damon," she said, "it's almost eight."

"Oh, shit!" exclaimed the reclining man.  He sprang off the bed
to his feet, the kneeler following immediately.  "Gotta run,
gals," he added, pausing only long enough to squeeze Thelma's
breast.  "I'll give you a call, Viv."

Bare feet thudded on the carpet as both men vanished off-camera.
The housecoated woman whirled, allowing the viewers to verify her
identification, and called, "The first of next week, please."

The real Anita stood up with a sniff.  "That's that.  This tape
was about finished anyway.  I'm gonna see if Betsy wants to go to
the mall."

"All right, dear," Jack said fondly as the girl departed.

On the screen the two women had waited for the door to slam
behind the men.  The elder turned back.  "Along with Burton.
He's already committed."

"Burton," repeated Thelma.  Though no longer in close-up, her
snarl was recognizable.  "You don't mean _that_ asshole!"

"Why not?  He's not so bad."

"He's a terrible pincher.  My boobs were covered with yellow
splotches for a week after he was here the last time."

"He's just enthusiastic," Vivian explained indulgently.
"Besides, he's as uninhibited as those two, maybe more so."

"Uninhibited?  Just let him pinch you!"  Thelma was facing the
camera.  Her expression changed from disbelief to calculation.
"What're you planning, you old scumbag?"

Both watching men grunted at the sneering insult, but the older
woman seemed unaffected.  She said calmly, "For you to fuck all
three of them as next week's finale."

"All three?"  The young eyes narrowed.  "You mean all together?"

"Of course.  More cock for you.  You'll love it."

Briefly Thelma's expression was contemplative.  She frowned.
"But I won't love having my boobs pinched."

Vivian had turned enough to show an implacable profile.  She
shook her head.  "Thel, you know how it is with the guys.  It's
hard enough to make them strip before each other.  Getting them
to _touch_ during a fuck is damn near impossible -- unless
they're the kind who'd rather touch a man than you.  These two,
and Burton, may be the only three guys in this state that'll do
it."

"Do what?"

"What I saw done a few years ago: three cocks arranged so they
can put into the same twat at once."

"_Three_?"

"Oh, yes.  The contractor is coming tomorrow to put a one-way in
the ell behind the head of the bed.  I'll get a good close-up of
you sitting on three cocks at once."

Thelma licked her lips but shook her head.  "You can't get three
of them that close together...  Maybe with real young, skinny
guys."

"I tell you I've seen it done with ordinary men.  Only once, but
that's because it's so hard to find willing ones."

Again Thelma shook her head.  "No way, not with that asshole
Burton."  She sneered.  "Put on your corset so they can't see
your droopy belly and fuck them yourself."  She smiled snidely.
"I'll run the camera."

Vivian sighed.  "Don't cause trouble over this, Thel."

"No trouble."  The younger woman shrugged.  "I'm just staying
clear of Burton, that's all."

Vivian shook her head.  "I'm sorry.  Corky gets a copy of this
tape.  He specifically asked for you.  I'm afraid I have to
insist."

"Huh!"  The dark-haired woman crossed her arms under her breasts,
chin rising.  "Insist away.  It won't make any difference."

The older voice tightened.  "I didn't want to tell you about it."

"Tell me what?"

"I kept a tape, Thelma."

Thelma blinked.  "You've kept lots of tapes."

"But the one I'm talking about is special.  It shows you with
Alton."

The young woman's face visibly blanched even in the imperfect
television image.  "A-Alton?"

"Yes.  It's a very entertaining tape.  He's strapped to this very
bed and you're sucking his cock.  You get a mouthful but keep
going.  He screams and burbles only a moment before he quits
moving at all.  Finally you rise up, swallow and check on him.
Your face -- your face when you realize he's dead!  I think it
would be good for you to see that.  I'll make you a copy."

The young woman stared with huge eyes.  Her chin quivered.

Vivian continued with a smirk, "But you're not just a pretty
face.  You figure out what to do.  You stare into the camera and
tell me, 'His wife's at some charity benefit.  If we hurry we can
get him home and in bed before she shows.'"

Thelma bit her lip.  "Y-you came charging in here and helped me
get him out."

With a sneering grin the elder said, "Funny thing: the tape ends
before that."

Thelma took a deep breath.  Color returned to her face.  "God
damn you, Vivian!  You're a perfect bitch, aren't you?  Where is
that damn tape?  I know you: you wouldn't keep it lying around!"

"Don't worry," the older woman retorted sweetly.  "It's safe from
any discovery -- that is, unless I want it to be discovered."

"Where is it?"

"In the safe in my bedroom."

Thelma gritted her teeth audibly.  "How many people know that
combination?"

"Only I, my dear.  I told you not to worry -- unless you prove
too stubborn next week.  _Then_ you need to worry."

"You ... you ..."

Vivian had turned away from the camera but the satisfaction was
evident in her tone.  "As to being a perfect bitch, I do try!"

Thelma's hands rose, forming into claws.  The elder stepped back
quickly.  "You think that's a solution?  You know who'll open the
safe if I turn up dead, don't you?  Oh, and one other thing:
it's fireproof."

The two women stood facing each other.  Thelma's ample breasts
heaved once before the glare faded from her eyes and her face
sagged.

"That's better," said Vivian softly.  She shook her head.  "I
really don't know why you resist the idea.  Three cocks at once!
You'll feel like you've died and gone to heaven."

"My boobs will be in hell."  The protest was weak.

"I'll warn him about that.  Now come on.  I've got some pizza
waiting."

The older woman's arm enclosed the younger's shoulders and they
moved out of the scene together.  Shortly the picture became a
snowstorm of noise.  Someone, probably Vivian, had turned the VTR
to _Stop_.

Lou raised the remote and killed the TV.  "A safe in my room?
Somebody's full of it."

Jack chuckled.  "That's because you gave _me_ Vivian's room."

"Huh?"

"Thelma told me.  I _thought_ she seemed surprised!  Why did you
designate your largest as the guest suite?"

Lou answered promptly, "To make sure you were well-tempted."

"Oh!"  Jack's eyes widened.  "Well, thank you."

"You gave me the cool northeast room at your place for the same
reason."

Jack nodded.  "You noticed, did you?"  He chuckled thoughtfully.
"Shall we go upstairs and look behind the pictures, or did you
already know about this safe?"

"Not I, and La Creighton's pictures are still on the walls.  Ha!
Thelma saw them, of course.  That's why she was looking behind
the picture frames the other day.  That crap about whether you
ought to paint was just an excuse."

"Yes."

"I think we're beginning to understand her motives."

"It looks that way," Jack agreed glumly, standing up beside the
stout man.

After a detour to turn off the VTR, they started up the stairs.
Lou regarded his friend with a smirk.  "Just like her poor dead
father, were you?"

"Don't rub it in."

"I'm just admiring her line.  Not many women are skilled at
seduction."

"Huh!  They don't need to be."

In the bedroom they soon located the wall safe behind a large
landscape print whose backside Lou checked closely but in vain.
The safe itself was set flush to the wall, 18 inches square of
dull metal with two dials.

Jack said, "I take it you don't know the combination?"

"No."

"Was it perhaps in any of the papers you passed at closing?  Any
cryptic number sequence?"

"Not that I noticed."

"Apparently neither the seller nor anyone else knew the safe was
here."

"Except Thelma."

A twin to the print hung on the opposite wall.  Lou crossed the
room and lifted it to examine the back.  He let it fall and
turned to face Jack in disappointment.  "What do you think: did
Thelma murder somebody in this house?"

Jack sniffed.  "By sucking his dick?"

"But she must have thought so.  Vivian had no trouble coercing
her with the threat of exposure."

The tall man shook his head.  "There's more to this than we know
yet."

"All right.  I'll call a locksmith tomorrow."

Jack's eyes narrowed.  "I wouldn't be so quick."

"Quick?"

"Nobody past middle-age trusts valuable stuff only to memory.
Let's look around for that combination.  Who knows what else that
devious woman might've stashed?"


* * *


"I miss Reggie," Betsy announced around her mouthful of food.
They were eating an informal supper of sandwiches, pastries and
coffee in the kitchenette, the old men in their robes and the
girls nude, as had become general practice whenever no servant
was present.

"He was here all day," countered Lou, "or at least I thought I
heard him droning away all afternoon."

Anita laughed.  "'Droning?'  I think that's the perfect word!"

"Well, what would you call it?"

"Droning," the brunette answered.  "Meaning he's acting just like
a boy bee -- fucking every flower that holds still."

Jack's eyes brightened.  He asked fondly, "Would you believe our
little beach girl is making a pun?  Let's hear it for Reggie!"

"He _has_ been making progress," admitted Lou, "in addition to
making out.  Since he's here nearly every day, Betsy, what did
you mean by _missing_ him?"

"I mean I miss teasing him at supper" -- she grinned -- "when he
puts things in _his_ mouth."

Lou cocked an eyebrow.  "To what are you referring?"

The blonde sniffed.  "Oh, he _loves_ that trick the old bat
showed him."

"They all do," noted the brunette.

"Not like Reggie.  That's our punishment now."

"Your what?" asked Lou.

"His cock in _our_ mouths.  Every time we make a grammar-tic
mistake, we have to suck on him."

Anita interjected, "Wrong word!  It's _grammatical_."  She
giggled.  "Guess you'll have to suck on Lou."

"'Grammatical," Betsy repeated dutifully, reaching for the man's
robe.

But Lou held up his hand.  "Not ever for punishment, sweetness.
Wait a minute!  You say if you make a mistake in speaking, you
have to suck him off?"

"Not _off_!" the blonde explained.  "Just till he asks us another
question."

"Then I take it the orthodontist fixed the problem with that
wire?"

Jack laughed.  "Don't tell me she scraped you!"

Betsy blushed.  "Wa'n't no wire, just a piece of fishbone stuck
in the braces."

"Fascinating," observed Jack.

Lou snapped, "Well, it _felt_ like a wire!"

"I mean the shallowness of her new speech habits."

"Oh.  Give her time."

The blonde entreated, "Let me show you it's fixed, Lou," and
pulled his robe open.

"Show me later."  He closed the robe.  "First tell me why you
miss Reggie at supper."

She sighed.  "I said it.  Because he's fun to tease."

"'To tease.'"  Lou's eyes narrowed.  "Remember when he fainted at
dinner?  Was that you?"

Betsy stared at him.  "You gonna get mad?"

"Mad?  With the mother of my child?"

Her eyes brightened.  "Then --"

Jack interrupted.  "By the way, did they ever check the embryonic
DNA?"

"I got the answer just today," said Lou.  He smiled proudly.  "I
wondered when you'd ask."

Jack sniffed.  "Apparently asking isn't necessary.
Congratulations!"

"40 per-cent allele match.  She's mine.  No doubt about it."

Jack's eye's widened.  "_She_?"

"Ah, yes."  Lou coughed.  "Turns out we have another little
Betsy."  Smugly he leaned around, stroked the slightly swollen
belly and simpered, "Comfy in there, sugar lump?"

Jack made a face and shook his head.  "Of more immediate concern:
'Nita, do you also miss Reggie, perhaps in the middle of the
night?"

The brunette studied his face thoughtfully.  She hitched her
chair closer and laid her head on his shoulder.  "Do I wake you
up too much, Jack?"

"When did I ever complain?  You know you're a comfort to me.  Did
I misunderstand about Reggie?"

She shook her head.  "He was fun for awhile.  And he still is, I
guess."  She giggled.  "Home school sure beats the stuffing out
of public school!"

"Stuffing is right."  Betsy sniffed.  "Reggie's getting thinner."

"You said that before," observed Lou.  "Doesn't his employer feed
him?"

Anita giggled again.  "Between her and us we're wearing him out."

"Then it won't last," opined Jack.  "He'll drop one or the
other."

"Between Thelma and these two lovelies?" sniffed Lou.  "Some
choice!"

"But the attraction may be different for him," Jack said
pensively.  "Being older, she likely takes more care of _his_
pleasure."

Lou looked from one to the other.  "Do you girls really want him
back?"

Betsy giggled.  "I was thinking _you_ might!"

Lou said dryly to Jack, "She means at night."

"I know what she means," said Jack, cocking his head.  "It occurs
to me we have a way to prevail upon Thelma."

"What way?"

"Vivian's way."

"But we don't know the combination."

"_She_ doesn't know we don't!"

In the thoughtful silence Anita asked with bemusement, "What
combination?"

Lou grinned disarmingly.  "We have a lock that I've forgotten the
combination to."

"Oh, that kind of combination."  She giggled.  "I thought you
meant some moves to put on the old bat."

Betsy's brows knitted.  "A combination?  Like the locks we used
to have at school?  That went, like, 38 right and 22 left and
..."  Her voice faded.

"Exactly," said Lou.  "Except those probably had only three
steps.  The one I lost has several more, I'm sure."

"Then that's what it is," said the blonde decisively to the
brunette.

"A combination," Anita agreed.

"You found a combination somewhere?" asked Lou.

But Betsy had second thoughts.  "Probably not yours."

"What made you think of a combination?"

"The Rs and Ls."

"What?"

"It's a line of numbers with R or L after them and dashes between
them."

The stout man glanced at Jack, whose expression showed his own
sudden interest.

"That sounds like a combination," said Lou, nodding.  "Ah, where
did you girls find it?"

"You know that typed-up list of tapes we found in the desk drawer
in the secret room?  It's written by hand on the back of the
first sheet."



* * *



"Hello, Jack."

When he opened the screen door, she came immediately into the
foyer and put up her face to be kissed.

"Thelma, you are dolled to the nines!" he exclaimed, preventing
the screen from slamming behind her.  He took her into his arms
and kissed her more enthusiastically than she expected.

She tolerated his tongue only briefly before pulling back with
raised eyebrows.  "Jack, what a warm welcome!"

He smiled lazily.  "You know how it is, sugar.  When a man has
been intimate with a woman who looks this good, he can't keep his
hands off her."  As he spoke he slapped her buttocks gently.

She smiled uncertainly.  "I know all about that, but from the way
you sounded on the phone I wasn't sure _how_ you'd feel."

"How I'd feel about you?  Why, I'm like a father to you!"

She studied him a moment, leaning back in his arms, and sniffed.
"All right, then I've come home to daddy.  I take it you were in
fatherly mode when you said if I knew what was good for me, I
would get my fanny over here today."

He grinned smugly.  "Didn't it sound just like an impatient
father?"

"Oh, yes," she agreed dryly.  "Well, here I am, the dutiful
daughter, ready to serve at your pleasure."

"That, my dear, is the perfect daughterly attitude.  Too bad more
of them don't have it!  Lou and I want you to keep yourself in
that state of mind from now on."

"I'll bet!"  She looked past him.  "It's awfully quiet in here
today.  Where's your harem -- I mean, your granddaughters?"

He grinned at her.  "Have you been pumping Reggie?"

She sniffed.  "He's easy to pump -- from either end."

"Then I'm surprised you don't know.  Reggie is squiring the girls
into Miami to the Pelican Club as we speak."

"That's a topless joint!  Aren't they too young?"

"They're 18, but it doesn't matter.  The manager's dad is an old
pal of mine."

"Then we're here alone?"

"No, Lou's waiting for us.  Come on."

He took her arm and led her along the hall toward the library.

She linked hands with him.  "Is sex all you want, Jack?  You left
a different impression on the phone!"

He squeezed her hand.  "I'm sorry I sounded so compelling.  To
answer your question, yes, sex is what I want.  _We_ want.  But
we want it on our terms."

She drew abreast of him, looked into his face and grunted.  "That
doesn't scare me, not at your age."

"Well, it shouldn't!"  He smiled reassuringly.  "We only mean to
have fun."

"Fun!" she repeated dryly.

He paused in the library.  "Thelma, I have to tell you, you're a
bit overdressed for this.  Why don't you unwind some of that and
throw it over the couch."

"_Some_ of it?  You want me naked?"

"No, just comfortable.  We're going through that bookcase and as
I'm sure you recall, the room beyond is seldom if ever dusted."

She opened her jacket and began to unwind her sequined scarf.
"Yes, I recall it.  Too well, maybe.  But I'll bet you don't know
what Vivian called it."

"Called what?"

"That funny room.  She called it her _opera box_."

"Did she!  Not many singers on those tapes!"

"I didn't say it was reasonable."  Thelma was removing blouse and
skirt, having kicked off her high heels.  "Reggie still doesn't
know about it yet, does he?  I asked him if anyone taped his
shenanigans with the girls.  He said there's no camcorder in the
house."  She chuckled.  "In some important ways Reggie is an
educated fool."  She shook her head.  "But can he ever fuck!"
She sighed, unsnapping stockings from garter belt.

Jack asked, "So he's holding up, is he?  The girls say he's
loosing weight."

She shrugged, lifting a foot to remove its rolled-down hose.
"He's just about to reach fighting trim.  If he stayed on here
he'd get fat, you know."

"Possibly.  Here.  Slip these on."  He passed her a robe from the
back of a chair along with a pair of slippers from the seat.

"In a moment."  She proceeded to remove brassiere and panties.
Naked except for a wristwatch and choker necklace, she finally
accepted the proffered garments.  Pulling the robe tight about
herself, she looked up appraisingly.  "How about a drink?"

"We have a sangria pitcher waiting in the, ah, opera box.  Will
that do?"

"Perfect!  I need something cold and wet."  She grinned
enticingly.  "Jack, you said we're alone, except for Lou.  So
who's putting on the show in the mirror room?"

He studied her a moment before answering.  "No show in the mirror
room.  We thought you might be able to explain a scene or two
from Vivian's tapes."

"Oh!"  She blinked and smiled slowly.  "I suppose I could do that
all right.  What do you want -- names and what happened to them?"

"We'll get to that."

He released the catch and pulled the bookcase open, urging her to
precede him into the darkened room beyond.  Lou, leaning back at
the desk to watch one of the video monitors, turned to greet
them, smiling at sight of the woman.

"Hiya, Miss Greeley!  Welcome to our inner sanctum."

"Miss Greeley indeed!  Is that any way to address your milkmaid?"

The stout man blushed as he got to his feet.  "You were going on
so about Jack's equipment, I wasn't sure you noticed me."  He
grinned at her and clenched her in a kiss as his tall friend had
done.

When their lips parted, she asserted, "Believe me, I noticed!
You've got a nice bottom stretcher."  She indicated the frosted
pitcher.  "May I have a glass of that cool, dark and sweet?"

Ice sloshed into the glass as he poured for her.  All three took
seats around the desk.  She drank quickly.  "Ah, good!"

He said, "I believe you're thirsty, Thelma."

"And hope to get thirstier," she announced, lowering her glass
with a wink.

"We'll see," said Jack.  "Ready to roll, Lou?"

"Wrong talk, Jack."  The stout one grinned.  "You say, 'Is it
queued and ready?'"

Jack sniffed at the woman.  "Would you believe he bought a book?"

She smiled.  "You have a lot of new equipment, I see, but you've
kept most of Viv's stuff -- so you can play her reels?"

"Exactly."

"And I noticed all the new one-way glass.  I'll bet you've bought
new cameras too."

"Programmable cameras," Jack agreed smugly.

"What does that mean?"

"For one thing, they can track motion by the Doppler effect."

She blinked.  "If you say so.  Will you show me how it works?"

"Later, if you wish.  Today we've got a tape for you to analyze
from 1984."

"Huh?  Then I won't know much about it."

"Won't you?"

She pointed to the VCR over which Lou's hands hovered.  "Not if
it was recorded on _that_.  Did they even have cassettes in '84?"

"I believe they did.  But this is a copy made from one of
Vivian's reels."

"Oh.  A copy?"  Apprehensive eyes turned suddenly up to Jack.

"Yes, a copy.  Roll it, Lou, or whatever it is I'm supposed to
say."

Without commenting, the stout man pressed a button.  The large
monitor above them displayed a blue field momentarily before
snapping into an image of the mirror room bed.  Two naked people
walked into the scene from the left, an old man and a young
woman.  Reaching the bedside, the man turned around and sat upon
it.

Thelma stiffened.  The depicted woman had not yet faced the
camera, but her voice was unmistakable.  It said reassuringly,
"Senator, you won't be sorry for this."

"Oh, no!" muttered the real Thelma.  "Oh, no!"

The man on the screen grinned.  "Are you trying to talk me out of
it now, Thelma?  Don't waste your time."

The woman chuckled.  "I wouldn't talk you out of it.  But you
heard Baines.  Knowing what's to come only makes it better."

"Did he really pass out?"

"Oh, I don't think so.  He might have got a little woozy."

"He says he passed out."

"Look here."

"Is that a stopwatch?"

"Right.  These are the rules.  I give you 30 seconds after the
first squirt.  Then if you're still bucking and hollering I'll
give you another 30.  But that's it.  And I guarantee you'll feel
something you never felt before."

"I've been sucked off before.  Hell, _you've_ done it!"

"Yeah, but you always pushed the girl away if she kept on, didn't
you?"

"True.  Who can stand it?"

"That's the point.  That's why I tie you down.  You _have_ to
stand it!  Believe me, you'll be glad afterwards."

The old man took a deep breath, laid back on the bed and extended
his extremities toward the corners.  The camera zoomed out to
show the woman scurrying around him to close padded cuffs upon
each wrist and ankle, chaining his body into place.

Lou turned to the real Thelma.  "Do we need to see any more of
it?"

"Yes!"  She lifted her chin.  "Show it all."  She took a breath.
"I've never seen this before, you know."

Jack commented, "You mean the tape."

"Yeah, the tape!"  Her voice rang with irony.  "You do know who's
the guy, right?  Huh!  Of course you do, or I wouldn't be here."

In the scene the woman crouched low between the man's spread
legs.  Her mouth went down to his thin pubes and her elbows
spread over his varicosed thighs.

He chuckled wryly.  "I can't believe how much I agreed to pay Viv
for this!"

The young Thelma raised her head.  "If this doesn't beat all the
blowjobs you ever had, you can ..."

"Can what?" he asked.

"Piss in my mouth."

The man sneered.  "I'll do that anyway.  Ah, go ahead.  I guess
I'm just a little nervous."  He chuckled wheezily.  "Would you
believe I'm remembering my Greek brothers at Princeton."

"So?"

"They warned me never to let a whore drain it dry."

The crouching woman laughed.  "What did they know?  That was a
long time ago, wasn't it, Alton?"

"Just over 50 years.  I find myself wondering what they _did_
know!"

"Second thoughts, Alton?"

"Um.  Why don't we postpone it?"

"Postpone it?"

"Oh, go ahead and give me a blowjob, now that we've got this far.
We'll tell Viv you did the full pop, even though you won't.
She'll get her money and I'll have my bragging rights."

"You'd let me off with that, would you, senator?"

"Well, dear, I am a politician, after all.  Appearance beats
substance ten ways from Sunday."

The woman chuckled, deep in her throat, but when the laughter
ceased, she said simply,  "No."

"No?"  His voice hardened.  "What do you mean, 'no?'"

"I mean, _no_.  When you brag about my service, senator, it will
be the truth."

"You, you mean ..."

"I mean you are about to get the blowjob of your life."

"That settles it.  Let me up from here."  He pulled on his
restraints, but hands and feet moved only enough to produce a
tinkle from the fine links of chain.

"Not until I finish."

"I'll call for help."

"Oh, you'll call out, all right.  You'll scream before it's over.
But Viv planned for that.  These walls are sound-proof."

"Good god!"

"Now, that's a different question!  But think about this one.  If
you're really and truly afraid, I won't be able to get you off.
Which means I can't drain you dry, which means you have nothing
to fear.  Ironic, isn't it?"

The man stared silently at her with huge eyes.

Her voice conveyed a grin.  "So, Alton, as Confucius-say to woman
getting raped, relax and enjoy it.  You can't do anything else."
She laughed.  "And look here, will you -- already half hard!"

Her head went down and began to bob.

The audience of three watched in fascination.  Jack said
conversationally, "You noticed his last instruction was to let
him up."

"Half of them say that," the present Thelma retorted, "more than
half.  But once the last cuff is on it's too late, according to
Viv's rule."

"You've done it a lot?"

"A few times.  But this was my last."

"I can believe that part."

"What part _don't_ you believe?"

"We'll talk about that later.  How about a fast forward, Lou?"

"Oh, what's your rush?" the woman protested.

But the stout man had already pressed buttons.  The hiss of the
cassette machine rose in pitch.  "Watch the time indicator," he
noted, "to 46 minutes and 17 seconds."

Jack said, "I have to admire your patience, Thelma.  You sucked
on him for over 35 minutes."

"Old men can be slow," she explained, "even with all the tricks.
And this one probably was a little bit nervous.  As he should
have been, if he knew about the aneurysm.  I never could find out
if he knew."

"I suspect no one knew.  They would surely have warned him about
such excess."

They viewed the fluttering bodies on the screen.  After a while
Thelma asked softly, "Do you believe I murdered him, Jack?"

Before the tall man could answer, Lou had punched the _Play_
button, and the bodies on the bed subsided to more sedate
behavior -- slightly more sedate.  The woman's head bobbed madly.
The man's fists were clenched and his face thrown back.  He
groaned, body stiffening, hips rising off the bed, lifting the
woman's head and shoulders also.

He groaned louder.  Her arms went under his buttocks and her head
became still, though the hollows in her cheeks came and went with
continuing suction.

"Ah, god!" he called in evident anguish.  That was his last
coherent sound but only the beginning of his vocal frenzy.
Muscles stood out on his arms, shoulders and legs as he screamed
with every breath.  One of the woman's hands rose onto his belly
with a flash of silver from the stopwatch.  His body twisted and
writhed as the screams continued.  She rode with him, retaining
half his organ in her mouth.

Suddenly, as if cut with a knife, the shouting stopped.  The male
body sagged, relaxing.  The chest fell still.

The real Thelma had leaned forward in her chair.  She said
bleakly, "That's when he died, right there."

"But you didn't know that," suggested Lou.

"No.  How could I?  I was trying not to swallow a mouthful of
jism.  The idea is to keep sucking, no matter what.  You can't
stop long enough to spit.  I was concentrating on the stopwatch."

Indeed the woman on the screen was motionless except for the
working cheeks and a slight trembling of the tightly clenched
timepiece.

Jack observed dryly, "I didn't notice any reluctance on your part
to swallow _my_ semen!"

She made an impatient gesture.  "The problem is AIDS.  If you
know something about the man's condition and habits, that's one
thing.  Senator Alton Hartfield was born rich and horny.  Very
few women -- or men either -- will deny that combination.  God
knows _where_ his cock had been last!"

Jack grunted.  "I'm pretty skinny.  How did you know _I_ don't
have it?"

She looked around at him.  "By now I can tell who's risky and who
isn't."

"So you admit to studying a lot of men in the last 25 years."

She shrugged, tilting her head toward the racks of tapes.  "With
that evidence I can hardly keep denying it."

"Why did you say it in the first place?  Who did you expect to
believe it?"

Her eyes twinkled.  "You."

Lou could not suppress a chuckle.

On the screen the woman raised her head, exposing a shrunken
penis that flopped wetly.  Turning far to the side, she spat a
large white glob onto the sheet at the foot of the bed and wiped
her mouth on the back of an arm.  "You were full of it tonight,
Alton," she admitted, waddling back across the man's torso.  "One
thing's for sure: you don't need the extra 30."

Her hand went to his chin and shook it.  She called sternly,
"Wake up, senator."

She waited only momentarily before slapping him.  "Damn it,
Alton, quit faking!  You're not asleep."

She jumped up and down on his chest a few times.  Other than
rocking body and bed she accomplished nothing.  Suddenly she
stiffened.  Her head went down on his chest and she lay still for
long seconds.

The watching Thelma sighed.  "And that's when I realized it."

The eyes were huge in the face that rose and turned toward the
camera.  Color drained from its skin.  A strained and wavering
voice declared, "My god, Vivian, he's d-dead!"

The camera zoomed out and became still.  On the screen the
sitting woman shook her head violently from side to side.  "Get a
grip on yourself," she muttered, taking a deep breath.  Her eyes
bored into the camera.  "Vivian, he told me his wife's at some
charity benefit.  If we hurry we can get him home and in bed
before she shows up."

She turned to the sound of an opening door.  The pale-haired
Vivian, wearing her usual housecoat, appeared in the scene.  She
stood beside the bed, arms akimbo.  "Well, get the goddamn cuffs
off him!  What are you waiting for?"

Thelma took the far pair, Vivian the closer.  Almost instantly he
was free but motionless.

"Come around to the head," Vivian ordered.  "You're younger.
You'll have to take his shoulders."

"Who else is here?" asked Thelma as she rounded the bed.

"No one, thank god!  Pull him to the edge but be careful.  We
don't want to have to lift him from the floor.  Damn, but I'm
glad he's a small man!"

Bearing the dead senator between them, the two women shortly
vanished from the scene.  Lou reached out and started the
cassette rewinding.  With a long sigh Thelma settled back in her
chair.

"Well, I guess the jig's up," she commented morosely.

"What jig?" asked Jack.

"Huh!  Vivian held that tape over me for years.  I've thought
about it a lot, dreamed about it.  Sometimes I remembered him
ordering me to let him up, sometimes I remembered that he didn't.
Guess that's settled!"

"Do you know the law?"

"Of course.  I even paid a lawyer for a hypothetical opinion.
Because Alton ordered me to let him go and I didn't, it was
technically a kidnapping, and federal law says that the death of
a kidnap victim is a capital offense."

"Was he a worthy lawyer?"

"Ten grand worth.  He said that I could almost certainly beat the
death penalty but that I would still have to serve time.  He
guessed I might get by with less than ten years."  She shook her
head.  "I'd rather die."

"I can understand that."

"Can you?  Just what do you want from me, gentlemen?  What's this
all about?  Do you want money?"

Jack smiled.  "No, dear.  We don't need your money.  I don't
think we want much at all -- beyond more of the same, that is.
We want more exposure to your delightfully uninhibited view of
life, your frank speech and wanton indulgence.  We want the
advantage of your experience in arranging such matters for our
mutual pleasure.  In other words, we want more of _you_."

"Well ...  But ..."  She blinked.  "Is that all?"

"Not quite.  As you guessed in the library, we'd like to hear the
stories behind some of that."  He waved at the racks of tape
reels.

She shrugged.  "Sure -- though I don't know about _all_ those
people.  Some were before my time.  Vivian was 34 years older
than I."

"And one other thing."

Her bright eyes studied the tall man.  "I won't try to guess."

He chuckled slightly.  "I don't think you could.  We want the
truth, Thelma, as you understand it."

"The truth?  What truth?"

"The unvarnished truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth
-- about you, about this house, about Vivian Creighton."


* * *


Jack looked up from the printout.  "Christ, this would make a
hell of a novel!"

Lou chuckled.  "Yeah, but with all the juicy details Thelma could
supply it would run to several volumes."

"What's wrong with that?  Lots of modern stories do.  And some of
these tales are just hilarious.  This one about the dog pissing
on the cop's leg in the middle of a bust ..."  The tall man
roared with laughter.

Lou shook his head.  "It's funny in context, after you hear how
stuck-up that cop was.  But damn it, would you mind not reading
it for fun?  You're supposed to be proofing it against your
memory of what she told us."

Jack flipped through several pages.  "You've organized it about
right, I think, starting with Thelma's childhood.  You know, you
have to admire her as a successful businesswoman.  Her mother
sold Thelma's cherry when she was ten years old!  I didn't think
such things still happened in this country."

"Well, maybe they don't.  That was 36 years ago, after all,
according to her birth certificate."  Lou chuckled.  "You do have
gall, demanding that from her.  I'm surprised she didn't spit in
your face and tell you to do your worst.  That woman has spunk."

"Well, she had already implied an age of 42.  When she confessed
to 46, I wondered if the truth was 50.  She gained by showing me
that certificate."

"So I gathered.  The retired CEO evidently admires the retired
whore."

"I admire her rise to the head of her own 40-person maintenance
firm.  And yes, I also admire her spirit."

"Yeah," Lou agreed with a leer.  "Her sphincter muscles have a
lot of it too."

"You know," Jack continued thoughtfully, "her youth was
strikingly similar to that of our girls."

"You think so?"

"The guy that bought her cherry -- this, ah, Harold Pursey --
came back and bought the ongoing parental rights to her from her
mother.  That's just incredible, and in a weird sort of way
speaks well for the integrity of both mother and daughter."

"Integrity?  You use words strangely."

"I mean that they didn't cause Pursey any future trouble about
it."

"How do you know they didn't?"

"Well, she stayed with him, indulging every sexual whim, until
she was 17, going to finishing schools, learning about etiquette,
acting as his housekeeper.  Don't you see a certain parallel?"

"With our girls?  Well, yes, a little.  But Pursey died when she
was 17 and left her penniless on the street."

"I hope we don't let that happen!  But even so, she survived."

"Became a whore, you mean."

"Please, my friend.  Pursey had shared her around.  She had
contacts.  She became what our racier friends used to call an
_escort_.  She was selective enough that she avoided both disease
and pregnancy."

"So she says."

"Why doubt her?  There is no contrary evidence.  Then she met
Vivian Creighton."

Lou nodded.  "Now _there's_ the one you ought to admire!"

Jack scowled.  "We know what _she_ was."

"Yes, we do: a frugal investor and great judge of character."

Jack grinned.  "Once a money hound, always a money hound, right?"

Lou grunted.  "Think of me as the scorekeeper."

Jack's scowl returned.  "Vivian Creighton was a madam and a
blackmailer, preying on human weaknesses in a sexually repressive
society."

"Which was fast losing its repression throughout the last 20
years of her life."

Jack nodded.  "Yes, which accounts for the decline of her
fortunes."

Lou's eyes sparkled.  "What accounts for that decline is the
fact, unfortunate for her, that she outlived all her
investments."

"Maybe.  Have you considered that her relative longevity was
_because_ her investments -- ha!  Her victims -- died off before
they could silence the blackmailer?  Did you ever hear Mavis Wier
sing at the Met?  That woman's soprano was among the Twentieth
Century's greatest in range.  And to see her cavorting on
Vivian's big bed --"

"That's it!"

"Huh?"

"Every time a dick popped she spat out the come and sang one of
Verdi's arias.  I'll bet that's why Vivian called it the opera
box."

"Could be, but you miss my point.  Miss Wier's tape is in that
safe for just one reason: blackmail evidence against her."

Lou shook his head.  "Now how do you know that?"

"Well, why else would Vivian keep it locked up?"

Lou shrugged.  "Maybe to protect her friend."

"Huh!  By that theory, then, she had some powerful friends!"

Lou grinned.  "Powerful people love to fuck too."

"Don't they just!  I knew Sen. Hartfield.  He's the lying bastard
who shot us down on that interim supply contract.  I remember
thinking he didn't deserve to die in his sleep.  Ironic, isn't
it?"  He frowned.  "But Mavis Wier is another matter.  They said
she had a heart attack ... in Miami, as I recall.  Do you suppose
..."

Lou chuckled grimly.  "You're borrowing trouble.  How about just
reading that paper so I can add it to the stuff in the safe?"

"Lou, what do you plan to do with the 300 grand in cash we found
in there?  And don't say it's none of my business."

"I wouldn't, though it isn't.  I intend to leave it where it is.
I'm going to take those secreted tapes and transcribe them to the
best modern media -- what's that, DVD? -- and put it all back in
the safe, along with this account of Thelma's."  He chuckled.
"She guessed that I've written it down, you know."

Jack grunted in disgust.  "Of course she did!  How many times did
you call her to 'clarify just one more point?'"

"She doesn't really care."

Jack shook his head.  "But _why_, Lou?  What's all this crap
for?"

"Crap, you say?"  Suddenly the stout man's features hardened and
his eyes flashed.  "Crap?  I'll tell you what's crap: everything
that you and I spent our lives doing.  That's what's crap!  At
the time it didn't make any difference to the world and already
the people who remember any significant part of it you can count
on your fingers.  But _this_ is different.  It's about people
doing the one thing that will always be important: _fucking_!"

"Fucking," Jack repeated, staring wide-eyed at his passionate
friend.

"Yes, fucking!  It's the only thing that matters in the long run.
You haven't gotten down to the last few paragraphs there.
They're about us and our girls and how we helped them.  There'll
be people in the future, Jack, who owe their existence to us --
to you and me, to our girls, to Thelma and Reggie and Vivian, and
even your Mavis Wier."

The tall man chuckled whimsically.  "Because we all love
fucking."

"Exactly.  And because we _do_ it, by god!  We don't just talk
about it."

Still chuckling, Jack suggested, "Then if we leave out the
possible blackmail, we can agree with Thelma.  Is that it?"

"Maybe.  About what?"

He thumped the papers.  "You've got it in here.  According to
Thelma, Vivian always wanted to be a man.  Now she's come back as
two of them."



END Episode 7

Contacts
   Varangian:  ludmax11@hotmail.com
   Kellis:  kellis@dhp.com

All episodes of this series are available gratis at
  http://users.dhp.com/files/Authors/kellis/www

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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