Chapter 2Content: MF MFF FF oral ws
The door opened again and Aunt Betty trooped in, wearing nothing, carrying a tray. "Your breakfast order, Sir!" she announced, settling it over my lap as I scooted up to put my back against the couch back. Behind her was a Goth chick and one of the black girls, each carrying a pitcher. "How about a Bloody Mary?" Aunt Betty asked. Somebody turned on a real, honest to God lamp so I could see more than the light coming from the doorway afforded.
"Yeah, that would be nice -- but water, first." I studied the breakfast. Scrambled eggs (I liked mine over easy, but...) done with bacon (a plus!) and raisin toast, buttered (I'd have gone dry). "This is nice..."
"You'll pay for it," Aunt Betty told me, pouring a glass of water and handing me the pills. Looking up, she added, "Girls, yours is upstairs in the kitchen -- get it yourselves!" There was the sound of several sets of bare feet stumping out the door and up some stairs.
I popped the pills and chugged half a glass of water before switching to the Bloody Mary that the black girl had poured from the other pitcher. Taking a sip, I enjoyed the pepper in it while setting it on the tray and reaching for a fork. "How?" I asked.
"The way you have been," Aunt Betty replied. "Except instead of doing the young stuff, you have to fuck my old tired ass."
I looked around for Mimi; Betty divined my intent. "She went up to get breakfast -- but she knows. We made the deal last night while you were losing at strip poker."
I shook my head. "I was so fucked up it could have been Crazy Eights..."
"I know, Hon, and some of that was deliberate -- we knew you were shy. It showed early on," she said. "We wanted you lit enough to get comfortable and say things you normally wouldn't -- and you didn't disappoint!"
"Uh oh." I was going to be mortified...
"You were sweet! You told every woman present that she was beautiful -- even Trina! And you told Mimi she was a goddess! You talked every girl at the table out of her top, and told each and every one of us what beautiful titties we have! Do you know how many times someone has told some of us things like that?"
"In some cases, exactly zero. You have no idea!"
"Well, I was drunk, but I don't remember seeing a set here I didn't like..." I admitted.
"Then we dragged you off to the pool, and you wore yourself out chasing girls all over it -- by the time you passed out, you could have had any girl in the place!"
"And I don't remember squat," I groused, "and I passed out!"
"Well, there's always tonight," Betty replied, smiling. "We'll get you back on your feet for the day and not overload you this afternoon -- you'll be fine."
"Yes -- didn't Mimi tell you? This is a two-day thing. If you'd been different, she'd have probably taken you home today and come back -- but the girls would snatch her bald if she tried, at this point!" Betty grinned. "There will be another barbeque about noon, and we'll find some way of entertaining ourselves this evening..."
"Maybe I'll know what I'm doing this time," I grunted.
"Well, we would prefer it if you were loose, but not blitzed," Betty agreed. "The girls need a little in them to get brave, too -- otherwise, everyone sits around getting embarrassed."
"I'm embarrassed NOW!"
"You shouldn't be," Betty rejoined. "You were cute and sweet and a keeper before you crashed -- and then you woke up and made like Supercock..."
"I'm not..." I sputtered.
"The Hell you aren't!" Betty argued. "How often do you get laid?"
"Very seldom," I told her. "Oh, a couple of women have told me I was something, but I figure they were just trying to latch onto me. Bar flies are easier to catch, but they don't share my interests. They all seem to have issues, and..."
Betty shook her head. "There are a lot of stupid, deprived women in the world, the way I hear it. Some woman should have scooped you up a long time ago -- except, if you deliver like you have today, you might need two!"
"I..." The woman was on drugs, or something. I forked more eggs into my mouth to keep from extending the argument.
Girls had been filtering back downstairs with plates in their hands; someone in the background muttered, "Amen!" I turned to look, but whoever it was stayed out of sight behind me.
It seemed like I needed to set someone straight, so I said, "Look, I'm just a normal guy..."
"With a world-class dick!" Betty cut me off, smirking. "Early in the evening when you were looped and playing around, we didn't get any serious impression of what you were packing, but when you fired it up..."
"When I fired it up!" I laughed. "I had a LOT of help! There's some sweet... uh..." I shut up.
"Pussy?" Betty supplied, cocking her head. "Girls, is there anyone here who objects to being told her pussy is sweet?"
"Nope!" Uh uh!" "No way!" Those were the clearest of the murmurs.
"Still..." I wasn't prepared to let them swell my head. "It's not..."
"A foot long?" Betty laughed. "But it IS eight and a half inches, right? That's two over the average -- did you know that?"
I didn't. "No shit?"
"No shit." Betty replied, nodding. "Six and a bit is the average -- and I've seen a LOT less!"
"Well, maybe I exaggerated," I replied. "We do that, you know..."
But Betty reached down and took it in hand and it started making a liar out of me pretty quickly. "Hurry up and eat, Honey -- I want my tip -- and several inches of shaft, too!" Betty told me, winking. "Somebody go up to my sewing area and bring back a cloth tape so we can see if Pete is exaggerating!"
"I've got it!" Feet thudded on the stairs behind me.
It's hard to concentrate on something as mundane as eating when a woman is knelt up between your spread legs playing with your dick -- or, at least, it's hard for me! Betty didn't blow me -- but she jacked me and blew her breath across the tip and licked it and grinned at me salaciously and generally had a good time getting me fully aroused. Somebody -- Annette, I think, one of the cousins -- showed up with the cloth tape and I tried to chew my toast placidly while Betty got serious -- but she was too talented; in seconds, I was hunched over, grunting in pleasure, unable to pay attention to food. Somebody hauled away the tray of leftovers -- two somebodies, I think, to keep me from spilling something -- while Betty proceeded to swallow my glans. Then she popped up and whipped the tape into place along my diamond-hard shaft. "What do you think, Mimi?" she asked.
"Closer to eight and three-quarters, I think," Mimi leaned in to look.
"Damn, Honey, you hit a home run with this one!" somebody muttered. "If you don't want him..."
"Get your own!" Mimi declared, her voice more firm than I'd heard it in a hundred discussions with nasty customers on the phone. "I'll share, but he's MINE -- aren't you, Sweetie?"
Now how the FUCK was I gonna say no to those big, green eyes? I just nodded, wordless, hypnotized, and kissed bachelorhood goodbye -- not that it was any loss...
"So sweet...." Betty shook her head, smiling. I blushed. "Now get out of here, all of you, so an old woman can wallow over his sweet dick in peace!"
Grumbling, women headed for the stairs -- I still didn't know how many. Mimi waited to last, her hand on my shoulder. "Don't wear it out, Auntie!" she admonished Betty before telling me, "Give my favorite aunt a good ride, won't you, Sweetheart? She's deprived..."
Betty was already settling her cunt over my erection; I gasped and nodded my head and in a moment the door closed. "I'm going to leave the light on, so I can see the expressions on your face," Betty gasped. "Close your eyes if watching my fat flop around gets too sickening..."
She really wasn't anywhere near awful to look at, even slamming full blast up and down on my rod. I held her titties to keep them from interfering too much with what she was doing and she begged me to haul on them by the nipples, so I shifted my grip; she was prime for late forties or early fifties -- shit, she was prime for late twenties when riding a dick! She stopped twice to shudder and squirt on me while her eyes rolled up, and when I lost control and juiced her insides with my spunk, she flopped forward and kissed me on the neck and panted, "Thank you, Baby..."
"Shit, you're welcome!" I gasped in reply. We panted a moment, and I asked, "I still don't get it -- what's going on?"
Betty pushed herself to the vertical, my slowly deflating cock still buried inside her. "Honey, I'm sure you've noticed that our family runs to big girls..."
"Well, yeah," I agreed, "But..."
"But what, Honey?"
"Well, I dunno," I muttered while I pondered the whole thing. "I mean, I don't see anything that negative about you..."
"Do you do a lot of fat girls, Honey?" Betty pressed.
"Well, no..." I'd had a few -- being too choosy means you date your hand a lot if you had my limited amount of visible charms -- and generally, porky girls weren't any too flexible or energetic and they'd been too sweaty to be fun. "But your family doesn't impress me as being fat..."
"I bet I have fifty pounds on you, Honey," Betty insisted. "And it's NOT muscle!"
"But you're bigger!" I protested.
"That isn't generally a positive," Betty sighed. "Our girls run to big -- and they run to shy -- and it's a combination that isn't in demand..."
"Well, okay, but when I look around, I don't just see family..." I insisted. "Obviously, they make friends..."
"Girlfriends. Girls with the same issues, generally," Betty pointed out. "No doubt you've noticed that a couple of them are, um, dealing with things in other ways?"
"Yeah." I hadn't missed the lesbians.
"Show any of that bunch a good dick with a good man attached, and girls will be a dead issue," Betty said flatly. "They're just doing what they can."
"Still..." I protested. A little bit of extra ass and a little height didn't keep them from being beautiful...
"Honey, big girls just aren't in demand -- and if you can't put yourself out there -- and our girls can't -- they've been stepped on too much growing up..." Betty insisted. "Do you have any idea how long it's taken Mimi to get up the nerve to invite you here? We talked about it over Memorial Day -- and I called her six times in the last week!"
"Memorial Day?" I echoed. Mimi had her eye on me since Memorial Day? Before that, even?
"Memorial Day." Betty nodded. "A lot of us get one shot, maybe, while we're young and at our peak and smell like wet pussy all the time... I got in a shot, but I screwed it up after a couple of years... The rest of us don't trip over anybody interested enough or brave enough or both..."
Now that I was here and had been fucked four times in eight hours, it was hard to fathom -- but yesterday, I'd had little in the way of expectations. And Mimi? I'd wanted her -- but I'd wanted Cheryl Tiegs -- and considered getting one as likely as getting the other. "If you'd left me to myself, I'd have never have made the cut," I grunted.
Betty made a wry face. "If I'd left HER to HERSELF, you'd have never even guessed!" She sighed. "I'm the family matchmaker -- somebody has to do it, and as the dirty-minded old divorced auntie, I get to be it."
"And the other guys in the family?" I asked. "Do they...?"
"No." Betty shook her head. "Some of them can't, and some of them can't even guess -- they just don't have it in them, mentally or physically. They're all sweet guys, but some of them are narrow-minded. You were promising; Mimi told me about you and I went down to her place and got a look at you -- and I saw a sweet guy -- a sweet, SMART guy -- so we decided that it was time to go all out."
"What about..." I cudgeled my mind for the name. "Ray?"
Betty shook her head. "Ray might do for Polly, but he's limited -- too much macho, too few brain cells. Frankly, I think he's going to flunk his final exam."
"And me?" I asked.
"Honey, you aced it -- stone drunk -- BEFORE you fucked your first! You made every girl in the place feel loved -- or at least, lusted after," Betty shook her head. "We've had guys -- seemingly sweet guys -- get a little lit and a little turned on and tell girls that weren't their particular target that they were sweathogs, or fat cunts -- you can't imagine what comes out of someone's mouth when they're too fucked up to realize. One or two of them are in the family, anyway, because they really were hung up on the girl that brought them -- but most leave and are never invited back." Then she grinned. "Then you sat there at the poker table, looped, and shined your light on every one of them -- even Trina and Cassandra! You went WAY over the limit for polite conversation -- but managed NOT to get raunchy -- and you held Mimi's hand the whole time!" Betty shook her head. "You were picture perfect! You molested at least six of them in the pool, feeling them up, and then you would swim back to Mimi and I'm not sure what was going on under water, but you kept her happy..."
"What do I do now?" I asked.
"Show them a little joy," Betty replied. "Give them a little more self-confidence, so maybe they can get brave and reach out to someone. Maybe, at some point, if you're willing, you can help me find them something more permanent."
"What about Mimi?" I asked.
"She understands." Betty eyed me. "After what I've seen, we may need to send someone home with the pair of you -- you might fuck her to death, you stud!" She swatted me on the chest, grinning.
I laughed. "Like THAT's gonna happen!"
Betty cocked her head. "Hon, I'm gonna let you in on something about women. A woman can drain three men dry in a session -- but she can't keep up with one over time. It's better for her -- and better for YOU -- if she shares you. Stupid marital laws we drew up for our protection backfire on us regularly. I learned all of this the hard way..."
I absorbed this revelation, dazed. "What about kids?"
"Motherhood takes a toll," Betty replied. "It takes energy away from her that she'll want to give to you. And Mimi works, too..." She eyed me. "Someone else in the house will be a big help in covering the bases. Someone she loves and trusts. Someone who needs a man..."
Was I hearing right? I was going to go from zero women to two? "Who?"
"That's up to the two of you to decide," Betty told me. "Don't worry about Mimi -- I'll talk to her. Maybe you'll want to rotate..."
"I'm dreaming, apparently," I muttered. "Too much booze. I'm probably home in bed, dead drunk, dreaming, having played with myself and made a gooey mess of my bed. That's the only explanation for this."
"Well, Dreamer, I'm gonna go upstairs and see if anyone has seen your pants lately so you'll have something to wear this afternoon." Betty advised me, climbing off. "I'll send Mimi down with a wet washcloth to wipe off the mess..." I listened to her going up the stairs and wondered how I was going to maintain the standard of my first impression -- preferably while sober...
Mimi came downstairs wearing a halter top and shorts, looking long and lovely, carrying my clothing from the day before and a wet washrag. I just stared at her for a moment. "What's wrong?" she asked.
I shook my head. "I can't answer that. Why any man wouldn't want to fuck you silly on sight is beyond me."
Her facial expression went through several phases, starting with shock -- and ending with tears. The good news is that she threw herself at me, getting me wet on the neck and shoulders -- on one side from the washrag, and the other from her tears. "You..." she gurgled. "Where on Earth did you come up with that?"
"It just leaked out," I mumbled.
"Only a man would say that," she husked, "and when you take that in to account, it's the sweetest thing I've ever heard..."
"If I live through the day, I'll have thirteen years of bad luck, because I've burned more than my share in the past twenty-four hours," I muttered back.
"I hope not," she sighed. "Damn, my stomach is all gooey."
"Well, with luck, you missed your shorts," I told her. "If you need somebody to dry anything..."
She laughed, sitting up and wiping at her midriff, then sobered. "Pete? I know we've been kind of out there... Is the whole deal too crazy for you? I mean, do you love me? Oh, I don't know WHAT I mean..." She turned her head away, and I knew that the last question had leaked past a solemn promise she'd made to herself not to ask it.
"I don't know if I can live up to the girls' expectations," I told her, "but I know what I want..." I reached for her. Forty-eight hours ago, she'd been on my list -- high on it, to be sure -- but considered as unattainable as everyone else on it. Now, was it fair to claim that she was the only one, just because she WAS attainable? I didn't know. Was that all there was to it?
She staved me off and started wiping the mess at my crotch. "Aunt Betty should clean up after herself instead of making me do it," she muttered. "Some of the girls..." Then she giggled.
"Some of the girls would lick it up!"
"No they wouldn't!" I burst out.
"Want to bet?" Her eyes twinkled. Before I could say anything, she got up and went to the door and yelled, "Cassandra! Pete's all gooey!"
Cassandra hauled herself into view; she wasn't quite as big as Trina, but her ass and thighs were sizeable -- and she was the only female in the clan that I'd seen thus far that slipped over into the homely zone -- but she still had nice hooters... "What do you mean, all gooey?"
"Well, Aunt Betty left him all covered in spooge..." Mimi told her.
"No kidding?" She eyed my crotch. "If you're gonna wipe it, why call me?"
"Well, I had second thoughts..." Mimi replied.
"Next time, think FIRST!" Cassandra complained. She reached out with a stubby finger and collected a smear, then popped it into her mouth. "Yeah, same stuff..." She looked up at me. "Can I?"
I glanced at Mimi. "I guess."
By the time she was done, my belly and balls were clean as a whistle -- and my cock was at full staff. Cassandra started deep-throating me, but Mimi stopped her, "Later, Cass."
"Promise?" Cassandra pressed.
"We'll get you a full load, Honey," Mimi assured her.
"I'm taking you at your word," Cassandra prompted, backing off.
"I know," Mimi replied solemnly.
"Okay, then." Cassandra smiled sweetly at me, "Thanks, Pete!"
"Sure, Honey," I replied. "Any time." I listened as she thudded up the stair, then said, "I don't get it."
Mimi pursed her lips. "It's all about what you can't have. She loves the stuff. This morning, she sucked it all out of..." She caught herself. "Never mind."
"Why can't you tell me who I had sex with?" I asked her.
"We don't want you grossed out," Mimi replied. "Or to play favorites."
"Oh." There didn't seem to be much else to say.
"Get dressed, Sweetie," she said, rubbing my razor stubble, "We need to put in an appearance upstairs." I nodded and pulled my pants to me.
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