The Clara Chronicles - Part 2


WARNING:

The following story is for the entertainment of ADULTS 
ONLY, and contains descriptions of explicit sex.  If you are 
not an adult, or reading sex stories upset you, or you are 
offended by subjects of a sexual nature - do not read any 
further! 

This story is for entertainment only.  It contains adult 
oriented material. This is a work of fiction.  The acts and 
characters contained within are figments of my imagination 
and have no basis in fact.  I do not practice, advocate, 
condone or encourage acts portrayed here.  The 
characters in the story are entirely fictional.  You need to 
believe that all of the characters are over the age of 
eighteen.

This story may not be reproduced in any form for profit 
without the written permission of the author.  This story 
may be freely distributed with this notice attached.

* * * * * * * * * * 

This tale starts immediately after "Vonna's Photo Shoot" 
where I had a twofer - both Vonna and her aunt, the 
infamous Saroya Zenellis.  See just how small the world 
is?  

It was Friday, the day before Harriett got home with her 
transplanted British assistant, who was also to be our new 
freeloading boarder.  I owed Clara, the woman across the 
street, a meet-up with another one of her nieces, in return 
for the photography lessons her family friend Viktor and 
his daughter had provided.  Oh yes, and Smith expected 
me for bowling.

Did I have the balls for all of these commitments?  Let the 
story roll, and hopefully I won't end up in the gutter...

* * * * * * * * * *

I'd been taking my vacation days one at a time with no 
regrets and, uncharacteristically, no complaints from 
Harriett.  Since she'd been traveling so much for work, a 
vacation for her was staying at home, putting her feet up 
and sucking down cherry-filled chocolates.  Although, 
lately she's cut down on sweets, and may have even lost a 
few pounds.  Well, good for her!

Vonna's photo shoot was such a single vacation day off, 
Thursday to be exact.  Harriett and her new assistant were 
expected home late on Saturday, after my scheduled 
bowling outing with Smith and Jones.  I had no 
extracurricular sexual activities planned during the day for 
Friday, so I went into work.

The other thing that made these days-at-a-time off 
possible was my demotion.  I was handling small-scale 
tasks, but I wasn't in charge of any "big picture" stuff.  So, 
with no management responsibilities, no coordinating the 
work of other employees, and no status reporting on my 
shoulders, I could schedule myself for a day off whenever I 
liked.  No one had taken up my position or moved into my 
old office, although the reporting and such that I'd left 
behind seemed to be happening, behind the scenes.  And 
without a manager in place, my former boss Dick Tashun 
didn't seem to care when I showed up.  

I got an assortment of greetings - head nods, waves, 
verbal "hello's and an occasional wink - from co-workers 
and members of the shrinking secretarial pool.  The 
repurposed swivel chair in my cubicle had seen better 
days and evidently overweight employees, the way it tilted 
to the right as I spun to my desk.  My physical in-box was 
cluttered with pass-around copies of tech magazines 
whose content might as well have been a decade old.  By 
the time the mags were produced and distributed, their 
content had reached the Internet, been consumed, 
evaluated, repudiated and forgotten.  To save everyone 
else the trouble, I shucked all of those glossy covered rags 
into my wastebasket.

It was a shock and awe moment when Clyde Hunter's 
secretary came down the aisle.  Clyde was Dick Tashun's 
boss, a senior vice president and a member of the 
executive corridor upstairs.  I'd forgotten her name, but 
who could forget that body?  I'd been with some beautiful 
women - models even - but she was something special.  
The only woman I'd seen recently that came anywhere 
close was the mystery woman I'd seen in the hallway 
outside at Underwuud Studios who'd been too friendly with 
Angie, the owner's daughter and photographer.  
[AUTHOR:  See story THROUGH THE LENS CH. 1]

There were always rumors about secret relationships in 
the office.  Tashun dipping his wick in the secretarial pool, 
for one.  Hell, I was the subject of my share.  And Tashun 
had used the rumor he started - that Dora Muniz's baby 
was mine - to get me demoted, based on his interpretation 
of the Personnel Policy.  Tashun's wife Agatha had 
promised to help me get my position back, after we shared 
a prone position on their bed.  And, unbeknownst to her, I 
had their daughter Inez Victoria (Invey) the same morning, 
and in their bed no less.  

Hunter's secretary stopped at my desk, her crisp white 
blouse straining under the pressure of two very pointed 
breasts.  There was no cleavage showing, but my palms 
sweated nonetheless.  "Mr. Marcus.  It's very difficult to get 
hold of you."

Vonna didn't seem to have any trouble the previous day 
while I shot naughty photos of her in various states of 
undress.  Her hands groped my cock frequently, before 
and during our sexual escapade.  "I take a day off now and 
then, to keep myself sane."

"And you don't carry a cell phone either."  She leaned 
over, hands on my desk, and pursed her lips, as if she 
was preparing to blow me a kiss.

"No one needs to get in touch immediately.  That's what 
voicemail and answering machines are for."

"Mr. Hunter needed to speak with you, to arrange a 
meeting.  But you're here - today - so I can escort you."  
She straightened up, shoulders back, tits at attention like 
torpedoes.  "If you're not doing anything more important."

More important than getting my old job back?  Why else 
would Hunter want to see me?  Had Tashun's wife come 
through after all?  "Lead the way."

We walked the corridor two abreast, although her two 
breasts were the distraction of every male and some of the 
females who passed us going the other way.

A elevator was available for our short ride up to the 
executive suite and Hunter's office.  I thought small talk 
was in order.  "So, how is it, working for Mr. Hunter?"

She stood facing forward, her profile astonishing from her 
neck to her waist.  It was a miracle she didn't poke 
someone's eye out.  "He's extremely dedicated to the 
success of his employees.  Did you know that he takes 
one individual under his wing each year, for special 
treatment."  She smiled.  It didn't need to be spoken.  She 
was his 'special employee of the year.'

Under his wing?  Into his bed, more likely.  "And what 
happens after the year is over?"

"Well, most of his assistants go back to school, either for 
their bachelors or advanced degrees.  In my case, I've 
taken a series of night classes and Mr. Hunter coached my 
personal development.  I've applied for law school.  Mr. 
Hunter says he's creating the next generation of 
employees for the company."

Either 'night classes' and "personal development' were 
sexual euphemisms, or good old Hunter was a died in the 
wool good guy, helping his direct reports succeed in life 
and in business.  Wow!  My respect for the old guy went 
up 1000%.

We got out on our floor.  I followed her to the left.  We 
passed a few scattered private secretarial cubicles.  In an 
otherwise vacant stretch of dark wood walls, she pulled a 
door open, grabbed my tie and pulled me after her.  What 
the heck?  We were in some kind of supplies room, with 
shelves of paper, binders, all of that officey stuff.  Her eyes 
darted from side to side, as if she expected we were under 
surveillance.  Quite possible, since paperclip theft is the 
number one cause of missed earnings at our firm.  "I want 
to give you a heads-up, before you go in."  

Too bad it wasn't giving me head, although the room was 
too narrow for her to kneel down.  The width of the room 
put us very close together.  Had we been naked, my cock 
would have been toying with her pubic mound.  As it was, 
if we both inhaled, our chests would touch.  "Mr. Tashun 
has been in Mr. Hunter's office for almost an hour.  Your 
name keeps coming up."

"What are they saying?"  And why did she think we 
needed this heart to heart, or chest-to-chest, chat?

"I had to be discreet, so I don't know the details.  But Mr. 
Hunter raised his voice a few times, and that means 
trouble.  Maybe it was the phone call."

"Trouble for who?  Tashun?  Me?  What phone call?"  I 
wasn't getting a heads-up. I was getting a headache.  
"Why are you taking this risk?"

"Probably Tashun.  Maybe Tashun."  She gave me an 
apologetic look.  "Listen, I used to work in the pool 
downstairs with Dora.  We've stayed in touch, after my 
promotion and even since she's been on maternity leave.  
She told me how much you helped her, like Mr. Hunter has 
done for me.  Believed in her when she didn't believe in 
herself.  Trusted her.  Gave her self-confidence.  I thought 
that maybe if you knew, you'd be better prepared for the 
meeting."

She hadn't told me squat, although being confined with her 
was good for a mental fantasy I'd be able to use later.  
"Thanks, uh-"

"Lorraine.  Lorraine Ryder."

I remembered the name.  Hold on!  This was Lorraine from 
the secretarial pool?  The mousy flat-chested brunette who 
was afraid of her own shadow and dressed like someone's 
grandmother?  Nooo.  Couldn't be.  "You've certainly 
gotten your game together.  A lawyer, huh?"

"Yes.  It's always been a dream."   She glanced at her 
watch.  "We'd better go.  Mr. Hunter is waiting."  

One of us had to move first or we'd have front-to-front 
bodily contact, and then Lorraine would know she'd given 
me an erection.  "After you."  I raised my arm, as if I was a 
gentleman.

So Lorraine moved - forward, leaning against me.  Her 
pointy tits drilled my chest.  Her hand went to my crotch.  
Shit, the gig was up, and so was my cock.  Her fingers 
traced the length.  "Dora also said you were the best lay 
she'd ever had.  And I can see why."  She smiled, turned 
and exited the storage closet.  I adjusted my prick in my 
pants and followed, although walking behind that swaying, 
perhaps surgically enhanced, ass did nothing to reduce 
the bulge.  

Lorraine handed me a leather folio, which I held in front to 
conceal my condition.  "Keep your mouth shut.  Hunter 
likes to hear his own voice."  Loretta whispered just before 
I stepped into her boss's office.

The room was just what I expected.  A huge desk, two 
visitor chairs facing, and a sitting area in the back, with a 
sofa, a comfy chair and a coffee table filled with those 
same obsolete tech magazines.  Hunter sat behind the 
huge mahogany desk, the fancy kind with curvy carvings 
along the top edges and sides.  Tashun occupied one of 
two leather guest chairs.  "Well, there he is.  Good to see 
you again, Marcus.  Have a seat.  You know Dick, of 
course."

Hunter and I had never met before, but one does not 
correct a senior vice president.  "Good to see you too, sir.  
Again.  Hi Dick."  I sat down and put the closed folio in my 
lap.  

Hunter leaned back in his oversized executive chair.  "Dick 
and I here have been chatting about the status of projects 
in his department.  You up to speed?"

"No sir.  I don't have that kind of responsibility any more."  
Shit.  Keep your answers short, Lorraine had told me.

"Why, that's right.  You're no longer a director.  Dick, tell 
me again why Marcus here doesn't have that position."

Tashun pulled at his collar.  This probably wasn't the first 
time he'd explained my demotion to Hunter.  "Mr. Marcus 
violated company policy on fraternization, impregnating a 
co-worker while on a business trip.  That was sufficient 
cause for-"

Hunter interrupted.  "Did she file a complaint?"

"Excuse me?" asked Tashun.

"I said, did the female in question - it must have been a 
female if she got pregnant - did she complain?  To you, or 
anybody else?  Officially or unofficially?"

Tashun glared at me.  "Uh, no.  She didn't."

"And to be sure of your accusation, you asked her to agree 
to a paternity test, to confirm that Marcus here is the 
father.  You did ask, didn't you?"

"Yes."  Tashun was trying to avoid Hunter's stare.

"And what were the results?"  Hunter tapped a pencil on 
the leather-framed blotter.

"She, uh, she refused the procedure.  She said that she 
and her husband were trying for a baby, even using drugs 
to promote conception, and that as far as she was 
concerned, her husband was the father."

"So let me get this straight."  Hunter glanced at me, and 
then returned his steely stare towards Tashun.  "The 
female in question, Dora Muniz if I'm not mistaken, got 
pregnant, made no complaint against Marcus here, told 
you her husband is the father, and you demoted Marcus 
anyway.  Do I have my facts straight?"

"Yes, almost.  Ms. Muniz never denied having sex with 
Marcus."  Tashun gripped the arms of his chair, almost 
lifting himself out of it.  "And there was-"

"No cause.  There were no facts, just supposition."  Hunter 
turned to me.  "You see, Marcus, I got an anonymous call.  
Female, if Lorraine is any judge.  Suggested I look into 
Dick's personnel decisions, the recent ones.  Now, 
normally, I'd just blow off something like that.  Some crank 
trying to make trouble.  Maybe even a lady friend of yours.  
Thing is, projects in Dick here's department are slipping.  
Blowing dates and budgets.  That didn't use to happen.  
Not when you were running things down there."

"No, sir."  I was tempted to tell him that I hadn't been 
running things as a director, merely in charge of a few 
specific projects.  But why spoil his view that I made things 
work better?

"So, I checked with Personnel.  Here's their incident file."  
He held up a manila folder.  One sheet of paper fell out.  
"They never got the corroborating evidence that supported 
your demotion.  Dick here told them, 'It's coming' but it 
never showed up.  It never will, will it, Dick?"

Tashun shook his head.

"Good, thanks for some belated honesty.  Really, Dick, I 
don't know sometimes.  So, now I've got to clean up your 
mess.  And I figure, why screw around with a good thing?  
Projects got done on time when you were managing them, 
and they aren't now, so I think you ought to go back to 
your old position.  What do you think about that?"

"I like that just fine."  I tried not to smile too broadly.

"And for your trouble, we'll add in a small bump to your 
check, to make things right.  Not your fault you took a 
temporary pay cut."

It was only temporary because Hunter was reinstating me.  
"Thank you, sir."  I hesitated, but couldn't keep my mouth 
shut.  "And my annual bonus?"

Hunter frowned.  Had I asked for too much?  "Sorry, but 
those books are closed.  Nothing left to allocate."  

Tashun snorted, and both of us saw a smirk grow on his 
face.

Hunter scratched his chin.  "But good old Dick here, as a 
Division Manager, he gets quarterly bonuses.  So, next 
quarter, if his group is doing good - and I expect it will - I'll 
give you his bonus.  How's that?"

Tashun stood up, trying to stand up to his boss.  "Clyde, 
that's not fair."

"Life's not fair, Dick.  What was done - by you - to Marcus 
here wasn't fair.  I'm just making it fairer.  Marcus, you can 
go.  You probably need some time to move back into your 
office.  I'll have Lorraine send out a company email, 
announcing the organization change.  And, I'll have her 
put the bonus redirection in the tickler file, so I don't forget.  
Congratulations, and remember, I'm counting on you."

He stood and extended his hand, and I shook it with 
subdued vigor and a firm grip.

I avoided eye contact with Tashun, who'd plopped back 
into his chair.  I walked out and winked at Lorraine.  Maybe 
after she took some law classes, she'd be willing to give 
me some professional advice, like how to get into her 
panties.

I mulled my situation in the elevator ride down to worker-
bee level.  I was delighted that I'd gotten my old job back, 
with a bigger salary to boot.  But that meant the end of my 
scattered vacation days.  Tashun, and now Hunter, would 
be on my case, looking for results, results I couldn't 
achieve if I was bopping off on a whim.  How many 
projects had fallen into disrepair since my demotion?  And 
how many of them would be assigned to me?  A cold chill 
ran down my spine.  It would be just like Tashun to dump 
all of the bad ones in my lap, even without the revenge 
he'd want from losing his next quarter's bonus.  Things 
were going to be even tenser than before.  And what if 
Tashun's wife Aggie wanted a stiff reward for getting me 
reinstated?  I assumed the female caller was Aggie, or 
maybe she put daughter Invey up to the deed.  Ironic that 
their call took money out of their family income.

I spent the rest of the day reviewing project plans and 
status reports.  Whoever, with the initials JD, had been 
coordinating most of the projects had deferred everything 
to vendors.  That's a bad mistake.  Their motivation is how 
much they sell, not how well things work when they walk 
out the door.  You get hardware and software from them, 
but no accountability.  And with mixed vendors, you get 
chaos.

My head was pretty fried by the time I got home.  I decided 
that I'd treat myself to a pizza and another look at Nashta, 
the delivery girl from A Hot Piece.  Maybe this time we 
could have a conversation before she ran away from me.  
On the phone, the owner was his same, friendly self, 
almost barking at me.  I cleaned up and chose a nice polo 
shirt and slacks from my closet.  Sure enough, the doorbell 
announced her arrival.  I opened the door with a friendly 
smile, a smile that melted when a pimply boy greeted me.  
"Your delivery from A Hot Piece?"  

"Oh yeah, sure."  I handed him the cash intended for 
Nashta.  "Where's the girl-"

"Nash?  She's got the night off.  Tell me, why does 
everybody on this route ask me the same thing?"  He must 
have meant it as a rhetorical question because he didn't 
wait for an answer, shook his head and jogged back to his 
car, without even a 'Thanks' for the tip, one he didn't 
deserve.  So much for engaging that mysterious and 
exotic young lady in conversation on my doorstep.

I flipped the box open.  The surface of the pizza reminded 
me of the pimply delivery boy's face.  I lost my appetite.  
The doorbell rang.  What was it, didn't I give the kid 
enough money?  There should have been plenty.  Instead, 
Clara stood at my door.  "Did you forget our appointment?"

Shit!  In exchange for Uncle Viktor's photography lessons, 
I'd promised to fuck her visiting niece.  Well, not in so 
many words.  Clara would have said, 'Provide my niece 
with an extension of her sexual education.'  Which in the 
past boiled down to the same thing: cock in cunt.  The only 
issue was, how would the cajoling be performed?  It wasn't 
like these young ladies came to visit their Aunt Clara, 
expecting to get laid, probably just the opposite.  "Nope.  
I'm all cleaned up, ready to meet her."

I locked up the house.  It was best to get my obligation to 
Clara cared for, because the next day was bowling and 
Harriett's return.  It would be difficult if not impossible to 
get naked with one of Clara's relatives with Harriett 
around.  Oh, and I couldn't forget about her British 
assistant.

"We'll need to take our time with this one."  Clara spoke 
almost in a whisper as we crossed the street to her house, 
formerly the Cocksworth's.  "She opted out of sex 
education at her school, despite her parent's urging."

"Can a kid do that?  Refuse to take a class?"

"Evidently, they have a very liberal policy that gives 
students a lot of freedom."

"But with freedom comes responsibility!  How does she 
think she'll survive out in the real world-"

"You're preaching to the choir.  That's why you're here, 
remember?  To give her a better perspective on sex.  She 
confided in me that she had a recent trauma, but didn't 
spill the details.  Perhaps you can get it out of her.  And, if 
in the process, you have the opportunity to get it in-"

"Yes, yes, I have the freedom and responsibility to take 
advantage of the situation."

"Well put."  Clara opened the front door, unlocked.

The first time I assisted Clara, with her niece Reid, I was 
manipulated into fucking her.  It didn't start out that way, 
but that's how it climaxed.  I expected Clara would act the 
same way, as the coach.  I was just a prop, a tool.

Clara turned as we walked into the house.  "Her name is 
Rosemarie, Rose for short."

Clara's furniture had antique written all over every piece.  
Or, they had been gathered at random from second-hand 
stores.  Either way, the pieces were a jumble of styles, 
wood finishes and fabric patterns.  Rose sat, back straight, 
on the paisley sofa.  She was as pretty as the flower she 
was named for, unblemished skin, pointed chin, in a long 
solid blue dress that hid her legs.  Despite the full-length 
frock, her thin build and small breasts were obvious.  She 
seemed so young.

I held out my arm.  "Hello, Rose, I'm -"

"Doctor Marcus," blurted Clara.  "He lives across the 
street.  I asked him over because I'm worried about you."

"Not that again.  Did my parents put you up to this?"  Rose 
folded her arms across her insubstantial chest.

"Up to what?  You told me yourself you're having some 
mysterious health issues.  What kind of aunt would I be if I 
didn't do something?  Don't you agree, Doctor?"

"One shouldn't dismiss early warning signs."  I wagged a 
finger at the lovely young lady.  Now I was supposed to 
come up with something relevant to say that eventually 
would get Rose's clothes off. "You don't look so good."

"Thanks a lot."

Clara shot me a disapproving glance.  Bad line.  I wasn't in 
the mood for this.  My mind was still processing all of 
those contracts, status reports and schedules.  

I tried to redeem myself.  "Don't get me wrong.  You're 
quite pretty.  I meant, your face is quite pale.  Do you get 
any exercise?"

"I run, almost every day."

"I can't believe it.  There's almost no color in your face."

It turned from beige to red, as she got angry.  "I do so.  
Tell him, Auntie."

I remained in role.  "There's an easy way to verify your 
claim.   Lift your dress and I'll examine you.  That will 
provide incontrovertible proof."  Another lame line, but one 
that would expose at least a portion of her anatomy.

Rose stayed seated, and clamped her legs even tighter, if 
that was possible.  "I will not."

"Just past your knees.  Nothing obscene, I assure you.  
Just to check muscle tone.  That will tell me if you're a 
runner or not."

Rose looked at Clara, who nodded.  Nice to have an 
accomplice.

Rose stood and slowly raised the bottom her dress.  I 
moved behind her.  Her calves were well developed, 
tapering to her knees.

"A bit higher.  So I can check your thighs."

The dress crept towards her panties.  Sure enough, her 
thigh muscles were also toned.  Her legs were sculpted, 
as nice as the leg model I'd gotten frisky with months 
before (AUTHOR: See ERIN GO BRALESS).  Rose 
dropped the dress.  "See, I told you.  I run almost every 
day, and while I'm here, I want to keep it up.  Except I 
don't know where its safe."

"Almost anywhere.  We live in a good area.  Perhaps I 
could give you some pointers".  Eventually, the pointer in 
my pants.  I described a route that neighbor friends had 
told me about.

"Great.  Do you run?"

"I'm no jogger and never will be.  The run just takes you 
back to the place you started at.  Where's the logic in 
that?"  It didn't sound like something a doctor would say, at 
least any competent doctor.  I no longer anticipated sex 
with Rose.  Maybe not even a goodbye kiss.

Clara had gone silent, as if she had no plan to strip her 
niece of her clothes.  So, I retained the active role.  "Tell 
me, do you ever suffer from charley horses?"

"What are those?"

I'd used an archaic term.  "You know, muscle cramps?"

"Sometimes, if I don't warm up.  But I almost always 
stretch before I run."

"That's a good practice. Show me how you warm up, 
please."

Rose glanced at Clara and me.  "I'm not dressed for it."

I waved my hand in the direction of the foyer.  "So go 
upstairs and put on your running gear.  We'll wait."

Rose looked pleadingly at her aunt.  "Do I have to?"

Clara supported me, despite a quizzical expression.  "Do 
what the doctor says."

Rose retreated to the staircase in slow motion, as if she 
was waiting for Clara to change her mind.  Finally, Rose 
was out of sight.

"What's with you?" asked Clara.  "Aren't you interested in 
Rose?  She's so pretty and vulnerable."

Maybe the vulnerable part was holding me back.  "I had a 
long day.  A good day but also a bad one.  Too hard to 
explain."

"A man can never be too hard."  Clara grabbed at my 
crotch and pressed my cock with her fingers. I pushed her 
hand away just in time.  Footsteps announced Rose's 
immanent return to the living room.

Rose wore a t-shirt with small furry animals printed on the 
front and blue nylon shorts that had cuts in the sides.

I assembled my doctor's authoritarian tone.  "All right.  
Show us how you warm up."

Rose took the position, one leg behind in a lunge, the 
other bent, head up, back straight.  After a moment, she 
switched legs.  Nice ass sticking out.  "Stay in the lunge, 
please.  I'm just going to check the muscle tone of your 
calf."

"Must you?"

"You don't want to pull something tomorrow, do you?"  
Like my cock from my pants.  "Do you ever get cramps, 
higher up?"

Rose's voice wobbled.  "What do you mean?"

"Around your stomach.  Perhaps a bit lower."  My hand 
glided up from her calf to just above her knee.

Rose's face blossomed red again.  "Sometimes.  Why?"

"In some patients, cramps are a symptom of a more 
serious condition.  In one case, a patient's cramps were 
caused by a small tumor.  I just need to feel around a bit."  
My fingers drifted higher, to the back of her thigh.  I put my 
other hand under her t-shirt on her abdomen, avoiding 
direct contact with her pubis. 
 
Rose was unsteady in the lunge, shifting her weight on the 
bent leg.  It was probably cramping up from being in that 
position so long.  "Must you do this here, right now?  I 
mean, can't I come to your office?"

I could easily cum in her orifice.  "I've sworn an oath to do 
no harm.  This is strictly with your permission, or I'll just go 
home-"

"I'll be here, to make sure nothing bad happens.  Okay?"

"Can I come out of the lunge?  My legs ache."

"Certainly."  I removed my hands as she stood up, but 
replaced the one on her stomach immediately after.  "Your 
stomach muscles are very tight.  Are you nervous?"

"Uh huh."

"Perhaps I can check for tumors and massage you at the 
same time, to relax you."

"No!  No massage!"  Rose pulled away.  My hand 
remained raised, but now empty.

Clara brightened.  Had I accidentally hit a topic they'd 
discussed before?  One related to sex?  "Tell him what 
you told me."

"Aunt Clara, I told you that was private."

"He's a doctor, for god's sake.  Who better to tell?"

I wasn't going to let this opening disappear.  "Does a 
massage have something to do with the cramps in your 
private region?"

Rose faced the carpet.  "Sort of.  Maybe.  Oh, I don't 
know!"

I lowered my voice to a stage whisper.  "Talk to me, 
Rose."

She plopped onto the sofa, fingers woven in her lap.  "It 
was last week.  After one of our workouts, Coach Adams 
told me to stay after and offered me a massage."

This was going to be good.  Her coach came on to her.  
"Yes?"

"Said the star of the team deserved special treatment.  I 
undressed and laid down on one of the training tables, 
covered by just a towel.  She started at my shoulders-"

"She?" I asked.

"Uh huh."

This was a revelation to Clara, given her wide open mouth 
and dropped jaw.  Looked like Clara and I were getting the 
sordid details simultaneously.  "Go on."

"Her fingers felt really good, down my back, across my 
waist.  She even did my butt.  But then I got a cramp, and 
told her so."

"Where?" I asked.

"Near my groin."

"It was in your privates, wasn't it?"

"Yes.  She told me to roll over and spread my legs, so she 
could see the problem."

The coach just wanted a close up view of Rose's pussy.  
Hell, now so did I.

"She leaned in real close, and spread me open.  Then she 
put her face against me and started licking-"

"And you didn't expect that, not during a massage.  How 
did it feel?"

"I was shocked at first.  NO one had ever done anything 
like that to me before.  But then, I don't know, I got this 
rush, like the adrenaline during a race.  It started to feel 
really good.  I just about smothered her, pushing her face 
tight against my coochie.  Was that wrong?"

Clara was practically drooling.  "Not if you wanted it.  Can 
you show the doctor what happened?  I'm sure he'd be 
glad to play the role of your coach."

"Oh no.  No offense, but he's a man."

"So you'd prefer if your aunt, uh, went down on you?" I 
asked.  

Rose glanced at Clara.  "Is that what its called?  Would 
you?"  Rose looked at me.  "And you'll leave, right?"

Clara was practically smacking her lips.   "No, Doctor 
Marcus should stay."

"Think of this as oral therapy.  Why don't you lay here, on 
the dining room table?"  I cleared off the bowl of wax fruit.  
There was a perpetually stiff banana that I thought might 
come in handy later, if Clara's tongue got tired and I 
couldn't get it up.  No chance of that.

Rose used a chair to mount the table, and then hesitantly 
slid off her jogging shorts and panties.  When she spread 
her legs, Clara rushed between her niece's thighs, almost 
a pounce.  I was worried that she'd scare Rose, but Rose 
lay still, waiting for her aunt's tongue attention.

Clara's lips were puckered for a vaginal kiss before she 
got anywhere close to Rose's pussy.  Rose's moans and 
Clara's tongue threshing got me really excited despite a 
feeling of being excluded.  

I knew that Clara had targeted her niece's lit when Rose's 
hips came off the table.  "Oh God!  What did she do?"

"There are some particularly sensitive areas-"

"You're telling me!"  Rose rubbed her aunt's head, keeping 
her engaged.  This was completely unnecessary, since 
Clara showed no sign of letting up.

"Are you more relaxed?"

Rose was ranting, writhing.  "Kind of, but more excited too.  
But I still feel a cramp, a tightening, you know-"

"In your vagina?"

Rose strained and nodded quickly.

"I need to check your, what did you call it, your cootie.  I'll 
be gentle."

I moved my hand up towards Rose's vagina, trying to 
avoid Clara's mouth.  She moved slightly, giving me 
shared access.  I probed Rose's vagina with my index 
finger.  Now, I've felt a lot of different pussies, with varying 
degrees of tightness.  But in Rose's case, it was like my 
finger was probing between two wooden boards that had 
been nailed together.  Intellectually, I knew Rose had a 
pussy but my finger seemed to drilling a new hole where 
none had existed before.  Rose would make one 
exceptionally tight fuck,  "Mmm.  Your vagina is completely 
tense."  My finger was only halfway in.  I wiggled it just a 
bit, to test the flexibility of her vaginal walls.

Rose's belly jerked upwards.  "Oh God!"

Either her cunt was sensitive or Clara had scored another 
direct hit on Rose's lit.  "All of the tension that's creating 
your cramps is located here.  I haven't felt anything 
unusual."  Except a really tight pussy.  I pulled my hand 
free.  

Clara came up for a breath.  Pussy juice dripped around 
her lips.  "Maybe you need to probe deeper?"  Clara dove 
back in, licking and sucking audibly while reaching back 
and fumbling with my belt buckle.  She wanted me to drop 
my drawers.

"Deeper?"  Rose was panting, her small chest heaving.

"Uh huh."  I wanted to get this over with.  Just fuck Rose 
and go home and sleep.  All of the project stuff swirled in 
my brain.  Why did Clara and I have to go through this 
elaborate charade just so I could give Rose a stiff eight-
inch education?

Clara stepped back and wiped her mouth on the back of 
her hand.  Rose's pussy was wet and her labia were 
spread, a warm portal for my prick.  I stepped forward and 
made first contact.  Damn, I wonder if Rose is a virgin, and 
this really is first contact?

Rose raised her head.  "What are you doing?"

"Preparing to probe."  The head of my cock nestled 
between the bloated cunt lips.

Her eyes went wide.  "With your penis?  No way!"

"It's for your own good.  I'll be able to detect-"

"I said no!"  She kicked her leg over my head, rolled off the 
table and ran for the safety of the second floor.  Her ass 
barely jiggled.

I stood there, pants around my ankles, penis at attention.

"I'll go up and talk to her," said Clara.

"Never mind.  I won't be a party to rape.  Consensual 
only."  Besides, I was mentally exhausted.

Clara came along side and palmed my cock.  "You have 
plans for that thing?"

My prick pulsed at her touch.
"It's so fat.  Shame to waste it."  Clara fell to her knees and 
put her vagina-moistened lips around the head.  "Hmmm."

The hum was unbearable.  I drove my hips forward as 
Clara licked my cock.  When she fondled my scrotum, I 
shot my load.  Clara gargled my cum, then swallowed and 
exhaled an "Ahhhh."

I tucked my defaulted penis into my jockeys and pulled up 
my pants.  "We tried."

Clara stood up and straightened her dress.  "I'll convince 
her to see you and continue the examination-"

I'd gone soft, and was sure that even the promise of a tight 
pussy like Rose's wouldn't get me hard again.  At least, 
not that night.  "I don't expect it'll do any good.  For 
whatever reason, she's prick shy.  And Harriett is back 
tomorrow.  It'll be even harder to get away-"

"It's even harder right now."  She gave my cock a few 
short strokes.  

Damn, I was erect again.  How did that happen?  

"If you need another release, we can sneak off to the 
basement.  I've got an old sofa down there, left over from 
the previous owner."  

Ah yes, the couch I'd fucked the Cockworth girls on.  "No 
thanks."  I repositioned my penis into my pants.  "Maybe 
some other time.  Tell Rose I meant no harm."

Clara escorted me to the front door and gave me a kiss on 
the cheek.  After she closed the door behind me, I paused 
outside on Clara's porch.  At least I'd paid my debt.  
Instead of merely a voyeur, Clara got frisky with me 
herself.  And, she couldn't hold me responsible for Rose's 
refusal, could she?  

When I got home, my stomach growled in protest to no 
dinner.  I snuck a slice of cold pizza from the fridge and 
munched on it as I walked upstairs to get my last good 
night of sleep before the Harriett and British invasion.  

***

(to be continued)

###

An Original H M Tale 

I'm always interested in reader feedback, because that's 
the only way I know you've read my stories.
Did the story turn out the way you expected?  What do you 
think of Clara and the way she treats Mr. Marcus?
What would you like to have happen next?  Send me an 
email at harveymarcus9@comcast.net.

Copyright (c) 2010, HarveyMarcus.  All Rights Reserved.

