Author: Thinking Horndog
Title: The Pact: Episode 2 -- Things Get Complicated
Part: 47 of 48
Universe: The Pact
Summary: Complications set in for the secretive little group created by the
Pact. The boys stumble into a potential goldmine -- but are they biting off
more than they can chew?
Content: MF ir M-dom sm
The Pact: Episode 2 -- Things Get Complicated
Chapter 47
Candace had an unaccustomed busy day; it seemed like every time she
turned around, some inspector or another was there to look at the new
bathroom. For their part, the inspectors were pretty much of the opinion
that ol' Fred Carter had stumbled onto a sweet deal, given that the babe in
the bikini was the homeowner...
By three o'clock, she was cranky. "How many more people are going
to come pounding on my door wanting to see the bathroom?" she snarled at
Damian over the phone.
"How many have been there so far?"
"Three."
"That's it, then," Damian replied.
"Thank God!"
"You'll survive..."
"None of them appear to have wives, from the way they ogle a woman
in a bathing suit!" Candace snapped.
"Put on decent clothes if you don't want guys undressing you with
their eyes!" Damian retorted. "You show up at the door half naked and
expect guys not to look? Fuck!"
"Well..."
"Well, nothing! Maybe I ought to invite 'em all over for a fuck! I
bet they'd show, now!"
"Damian!"
"Don't get snippy with me, then! You know what happens when you do
that shit!"
"Okay, okay!" Candace came back more gently. "They're all done?"
"Yeah. I'll call Pa -- he wants to be down there banging around all
day tomorrow. Be careful with him or you WILL get fucked!" Damian chuckled
and hung up.
Damian called Fred at work, then settled back to think. Who could
he put out there for his father and Rico on Saturday? Trish? Alyssa?
Sonya again? On a hunch, he called Toby. "Hey, Man, I need to put some
pussy on the ground for Pa and his bud on Saturday -- any ideas?"
"Gee, I don't know. Randy and Hank are up to something -- why don't
you check with them?" Toby countered.
"Yeah? Like what?"
"Another one of Alyssa's girlfriends stuck her foot in the trap..."
"Cool. I'll call Rain Man." Damian hung up and dialed the Hayes
residence.
Brie brought Randy the phone. "Yo."
"Hey, I need to put some cooze in the playroom tomorrow for Pa and
his bud. They'll be working all day, trying to finish up over there."
"Yeah? How many? One? Two?" Randy asked.
"Well, we kicked ass with them thus far, but it's a Saturday, you
know? I dunno what we can really expect..."
"Who do we not want down there?" Randy asked.
"Candace, Mama, probably Jean, Sally, Teela, your mama, Alyssa...
You still shitting on Trish?"
"Well, she's done the duty."
"So has Sonya and Jiang Yi and Beth. What's left?"
"Tabitha."
"Hart?" Damian grimaced. "Bitch is fugly -- not to mention dumb as
a box of rocks."
"Well, that may be all true, but she's also a stone slut. AND she's
a helluva fuck!" Randy declared. "Not to mention the fact that I figure we
could get her basically all day... Hang on a sec." Tabitha, still naked,
was head down, using rug cleaner to remove the spot she'd made on the rug.
"Tab! Come here a minute!"
Tabitha crawled over. "Yes, Randy?"
"Can you get out tomorrow?"
"Probably. Momma likes to entertain on the weekend... She'd
probably like it if I wasn't around."
"Okay, then. Pack an overnight bag and come over here tomorrow
about, oh, nine o'clock. Tell your momma you'll be back Sunday. I'm gonna
take you someplace to do some stuff for us," Randy told her.
"What should I wear?"
"Old clothes -- stuff you can get dirty in. But bring a swimsuit
and whatever you want to wear overnight -- and plan to go naked." Randy
grinned.
"Oh, boy!"
Randy chuckled into the phone. "You get all that?"
"Well, yeah..." Damian was dubious.
"I'll bring her over. Just give her to them. It'll fly, Man, trust
me." Randy assured him.
"Well, okay. What about backup?" Damian wondered.
"Jeez, I dunno. Trish and her old lady?" Randy grunted.
"Fuck, I dunno. Maybe." Damian shook his head. As many chicks as
they had on tap, tossing over half of them to Pa wasn't happening...
Awright, so, nine-thirty or so? Can you get her there?"
"Yeah, no sweat. See you there!" Randy hung up.
Tabitha was still there on her hands and knees, watching him with
her head cocked -- sort of like a dog... "Go home and soak your pussy, Tab
-- you're gonna need it tomorrow."
"I'm not done with the spot..."
"Finish that first, then."
"Thank you, Randy."
"Thank me afterward. There's no telling how this is going to go
over." Randy couldn't resist reaching out to caress her cheek. "Oh, while
we're at it -- look, you can't tell ANYBODY about what you're doing for us,
understand? None of it -- no fucking, no sucking, no nothing. Think about
it -- if you do, they'll probably trick you and find out the other stuff and
you'll end up in Juvie. Tell your momma -- Hell, I dunno -- can you tell
her you have a boyfriend?"
Tabitha thought about it. "I'm not sure -- do I?"
"A half-dozen, probably -- maybe more -- but don't tell her that --
she'll get all jealous." Randy grinned and Tabitha grinned back.
"Tell her you and your girlfriends started a club," Hank suggested.
"That'll probably work. Questions go to Alyssa."
"Okay!"
"Hurry up and finish and head on home, then," Randy told her. "Make
sure you're over here by nine."
"Yes, Randy." Head down, Tabitha resumed spot cleaning.
----------------------------------
"So, are you gong to climb back on the horse?" Martin asked Jean.
They were hanging out on the edge of the pool, relaxing after some hard-
fought sets of tennis.
"What?" Jean looked confused.
"You know -- another partner."
"I suppose." Jean eyed Martin, "What about you? When are you going
to chase down another partner?"
"Soon, I think," Martin replied. "I have to keep up."
"You certainly do! I'm not doing this myself!"
Martin snorted laughter. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Well, what good does it do me to wander around hunting strange men
if you're just going to sit at home and wait for me to come back?" Jean
prodded.
"Is that what I'm doing?" Martin retorted.
"It looks like it to me!"
"That would seem to defeat the purpose of the exercise," Martin
agreed. "Very well -- I'll ensure that I make some arrangement or another
over the weekend. You be sure to continue your own pursuits, as I may catch
up and try to break into the open ahead of you!"
"Heaven forbid!" Jean chuckled. "Shall we do a few laps?" She
struck out for the far end of the pool, leaving Martin grinning. He never
did quite catch up.
----------------------------------
Hank was lounging around looking self-satisfied when Martin and Jean
returned to Martin's house. Jean didn't hang around; something told her it
was best that she stay away from Hank. In the first place, she wanted to
avoid young guys --and in the second, having sex with Hank would complicate
her relationship with Martin.
Her relationship with Martin. She had one -- and it wasn't just
sex. What did THAT mean? They were friends -- well, acquaintances, anyway,
edging toward being friends. They had a sexual relationship, too -- but
that was different, wasn't it? 'I'm thinking too much,' Jean sighed to
herself as she drove away.
----------------------------------
"So, did you accomplish what you set out to do?" Martin asked Hank.
"Yeah," Hank agreed, watching his father.
"And did you hurt anyone?"
"No," Hank grinned. "I made someone's dreams come true."
"Oh?" Martin was confused.
"Some girls really want to have sex -- really bad, it turns out."
"Well, I guess that makes sense," Martin mused. "I hope she isn't
moving on to wanting a relationship..."
"If she does, it'll probably be with Randy, not me," Hank replied.
Martin nodded. "I was thinking about looking around a bit myself."
"I thought you and Mrs. Flanders..."
"We've... painted ourselves into a corner," Martin related. "Each
of us is supposed to be out comparison shopping."
"For what?"
"Sex partners. Jean -- well, you know about Toby, right?"
"I know they've been together. I hear she's pregnant," Hank
confirmed.
"She was happy with him, but..."
"Things have changed."
"Yeah." Martin was silent for a bit. "Neither of us want things to
change again AFTER we enter into a committed relationship, so..."
"You both need to fool around a little?"
"Exactly. I should probably get a move on -- she's out ahead of
me."
"Well, what do you want?" Hank asked. "Does color matter? If
you're just having sex?"
----------------------------------
Across town, a similar question was being asked. "Okay, so Mom and
you didn't hit it off," Rick shrugged. "That's probably not surprising.
Try something else."
"Like what?" Frank Pendergast grunted.
"Well, in the group, there's Lon's mom and Toby's -- neither of them
is anything like Ma, but I'm not sure they're for you. Hey, have you ever
had sex with a black woman? We've got two or three out there..."
"I'd probably say sumpthin' fucked up and get my ass kicked," Poppa
Frank grinned.
"Hey, you're not taking them to dinner," Rick replied. "I'll call
around and get you something. You go up to her house and cut loose a little
and come on home. No big deal."
"I dunno."
"C'mon, it's Friday night," Rick cajoled, flicking a glance at
Teela. "We've got plans."
"Awright." The big reason that Frank said yes was that nothing
makes you want sex like getting sex; his run-in with Jean had whetted his
appetite. He was more horny now than he had been forty-eight hours before,
and the idea of suffering through another evening of listening to Teela's
happy wails didn't appeal at all...
"Rain Man, it's Rick."
"Hey."
"Do we have anything available for an old guy?"
Randy blinked. "How old."
"Oh, your mom's age."
"Oh. Shit, that ain't old..."
"True, true," Rick agreed. "Look, Teela's old man needs a shot, you
know?"
"Oh, hey, in the group then, right?"
"Yeah. His dues are paid up," Rick agreed.
"He's white..." Randy mused.
"Is that a problem?"
"I'm just thinkin'."
"What about your mom?"
"What about yours?" Randy retorted.
"He's done her. No chemistry."
That set Randy back. "Is he any good?"
"No telling. What I got was that they just couldn't get along --
the sex was okay, but nothing super. I think it was attitude, though," Rick
related.
"Well, there's Mama or Trish's old lady -- but I think we've got her
on standby for the construction crew tomorrow." Randy thought about it.
"Hang on." Covering the mouthpiece, he yelled, "Alyssa!"
"Yeah?" Alyssa tended to be prompt in her responses, lately -- if
she wasn't, she knew she would have to deal with Damian.
"Is tonight a good night to set Mama up?"
Alyssa thought about it, then grinned. "Probably. She used to fuck
Dirk on Friday nights."
Several things fell into place for Randy. "No shit?"
"Every week."
"Okay, what if it's a white dude? Her age?"
Alyssa folded her arms across her chest and looked grouchy. "Why
does she get a choice?"
"Good point," Randy nodded. "Send him over -- we'll feed him to
Mama."
"Sounds good," Rick agreed. "When?"
"Nine good?"
"Yeah." Rick hung up.
----------------------------------
Ten minutes later, Randy was talking to Hank. "Jeez, what am I?
Super-pimp? Mama's tied up. Trish's old lady is on standby for the
construction crew at the clubhouse tomorrow -- but she doesn't know it yet."
"Tab is gonna handle that," Hank replied.
"YOU know that, and I know that, but Damian and Terence and his old
man and that other guy don't yet. What about Beth? Or Terence's mama? Or
Lon's?"
"I'll call around."
A call to Terence got Louise at the hospital. "I'd be happy to, but
Fred will be home," Louise sighed. "Ask him to leave a spot on his dance
card for me, though. Beth..." Louise gazed at her friend and Robert in
conversation at the other end of the counter. "Beth and the doctor have the
playroom reserved for tonight, I hear -- although you know how Beth is..."
"Well, no, not really..." Hank muttered.
"She would probably be just as happy taking on two..."
"Oh." Hank scratched his head. "I think Dad is looking for a
solo."
"Call Candace."
"Got her number?" Louise did.
"Candace? It's Hank."
"Oh, hi, Honey. What's up?"
"Are you busy tonight?"
"Well, no..." She'd been thinking about going out -- again -- to
look for something that might compete with her current primary lover.
"Why?"
"Think you might like some company?"
"You? Don't you have your eye on anything young, yet? You really
ought to try Sonya, Honey..." Another kid wouldn't break her of her current
fascination with teenage studs.
"I was thinking my dad..."
"Oh?" Candace came up short. "Coach?"
"Yeah."
"I... might be able to make a spot in my busy schedule..." Candace
teased. "Does he know, or are you just checking?"
"No, he's looking..."
"Can we go to dinner somewhere first? Nothing fancy..."
"Dad!"
"Son?" Martin looked up.
"It's Candace -- Lon's mom. You need to negotiate from here --
she's looking for a date." Hank handed him the phone.
"Candace?"
"Coach?"
"Call me Martin. What were you interested in?"
"Dinner -- nothing fancy, I just hate to cook. Then we could come
back, and..."
"Sounds good. What would you like to eat?" Martin asked.
"I don't care. Italian? Steak?"
"Not Italian." Martin was pizzaed-out. A light flashed. "Japanese
Steak House?"
"Oh, very nice, Honey, very nice!"
"I'll come by at seven?"
"I'll be ready!"
Martin hung up. Hank snickered. "Gee, THAT was hard..."
----------------------------------
The Carter boys were both at home for the first time in several
days. Fred was in the living room, watching TV and generally acting mellow
-- and Louise was steaming. "Boys, you're letting your old man live too
high on the hog, and I'm not happy!"
"He's workin'," Terence replied, "HARD! What do you want?"
"What are you going to do when he's done with his little project?
Keep him on the group dole forever?" Louise groused.
"Now, Mama..." Damian placated.
"When he gets more pussy than I get dick, you can expect fireworks,
Boy! That isn't how it's supposed to work!"
Damian shrugged. "Get more dick."
"Where? Ain't nobody lining it up for me, pimping me off..." Louise
ranted.
"Pa's riding high right now," Damian pointed out, "but Lon and Toby
are planning something to rub his nose in it, I think. Hang on -- your time
is coming."
"I want a piece of him! You understand? Before he hits the street
and hangs us all out to dry!" Louise hissed.
Terence flicked a glance at Damian. "Remember that thing you said
Toby mentioned the other day?"
"Yeah." Damian went poker-faced. "Been thinking about that some."
"What?" Louise demanded.
"Well, you know Pa is working on the project with his old bud Rico
Gambrelli..." Damian murmured.
Louise didn't need to be drawn a picture. "You don't know where
Rico's been."
"Yes, we do," Damian replied. "He went out and got a full STD
workup before he did Sonya last night. He's clean. From watching him, I'd
say he's a good fuck, too."
"When?" Louise asked, leaning forward intently.
"Let's wait until they're done."
Louise grimaced. "Okay." But she was sunny for the rest of the
evening.
----------------------------------
Adele got home a bit after eight. "Go get a bath, Mama," Randy told
her, "You're entertaining in about forty-five minutes."
"Entertaining?" Adele was caught flat-footed.
"Yeah, entertaining." Alyssa's face was hard. "That's nice talk
for spreading your legs when you're told -- like I do."
Adele opened her mouth, shut it, turned, and headed upstairs. Randy
eyed Alyssa. "You didn't have to do that."
"She'd have argued, if you'd been nice about it," Alyssa replied.
"Besides, if it's good enough for me, it's good enough for Mama. She's no
better than I am." Randy couldn't argue.
Adele got no chance for open commentary; Frank Pendergast was
sitting there, fidgeting in the living room when she came back downstairs.
Adele blinked. "Hello..."
"Uh, hi." Frank was clearly nervous. "Surprised?"
"Well, not that much -- I was told you were coming," Adele covered
herself. "I'm not quite ready -- I just got home a bit ago. Just give me a
moment, will you?"
"Sure."
Adele backed into the kitchen. Randy and Alyssa followed, figuring
something was up. "A white guy?" Adele queried. "You didn't tell me that!"
Alyssa was all over her mother like a duck on a june bug, "What?
You've got standards? I'm not allowed any! Know how many white guys I've
fucked? Besides, wanna bet HE has standards, too?"
"Alyssa!"
"She's right, Mama. In the first place, the dude is scared
shitless, probably; in the second, he's Teela's old man -- that makes him a
member, and you're to be nice to him! Rick's old lady put out for him and
if she can, you damned sure can!" Randy insisted.
"He's kinda scrawny..." Adele ventured.
"So? So is Hank. Nobody Hank has fucked has ever bitched..." The
argument stopped there because there was a ruckus in the living room.
Everyone boiled out to find Brie basically blocking Frank's path.
"What's going on?" Randy asked.
"I don't figure I'm really wanted here," Frank replied. "I figured
I'd hit the door, but she come along and said I shouldn't." He pointed at
Brie.
"She's right. You're invited," Randy replied.
"Yeah, well..." Frank flicked a glance at Adele.
"We didn't tell Mama you was white," Randy amplified.
"I figured."
"It doesn't matter," Randy added.
"It don't? You're sure?" Frank eyed him. "Kinda matters to me --
not sumpthin' I done before. Mebbe it's the same fer her." He shifted his
eyes to Adele.
"It shouldn't be," Randy insisted. "She's had white guys -- haven't
you, Mama?" His eyes challenged her.
"Yes, I have," Adele admitted. "I'm sorry -- I was just surprised."
"This isn't hospitality," Randy growled. "Frank, all three of these
women are group members. If Mama is feeling snooty, then Alyssa might not
-- and I'll have a helluva time keeping Brie off of you, anyway!"
"What?" Frank's surprised gaze swung to Brie. "Ain't you a bit
young to be dancin' on a dick? Uh, sorry -- my mouth got away from me..."
Brie stood her ground. "They don't let me do that, but I like cum
-- and if you're a group member, then I get yours, too!"
"You s--..." Frank stopped himself and flicked another embarrassed
glance at Adele. "I mean..."
Alyssa let him off the hook. "If you're a group member, and you
walk through that door, Brie figures you owe her a blowjob. We don't make
her do it -- it's all the other way around. I can't keep her off my
boyfriend!"
"Uh... huh..." Frank ran his hand through his thinning hair. He
was feeling really shaky...
Adele stepped up and took Frank's hand. "C'mon, Baby. I'm sorry --
this hasn't gone right and you haven't been treated right and I apologize.
It isn't as if I didn't WANT any -- I was just acting the fool..."
"You don't hafta..." Frank muttered.
"I like to have a little on Friday nights," Adele said gently.
"Don't you?" She tugged his hand and Frank succumbed to the male Achilles
Heel -- you DON'T turn down a willing woman! He allowed himself to be led
up the stairs.
----------------------------------
Dinner had been pleasant; Candace was intelligent, personable -- and
opinionated and high-maintenance, but it was a nice-looking package, as far
as Martin was concerned. Martin was witty and urbane -- much more
sophisticated than Candace expected from a football coach. The food was
marvelous and they were relatively easy with one another. Lon was gone for
the evening -- at Sally's, maybe overnight -- so they had the house to
themselves on their return. "Want to go down to the playroom? It's more or
less suited for what we're planning. I can get us a bottle of wine and we
can watch a little porn..." Candace proposed. She knew that Coach -- Martin
-- had been somewhat out of it lately -- maybe he needed a jump-start...
"I probably don't need porn in the presence of a woman as good-
looking as you," Martin replied, "but it's nice to know that you're tolerant
of such things -- and it IS entertainment..."
"Fine..." They'd settled in and begun discovering each others
bodies, their bravery and their ardor amplified by watching the antics of a
blonde and two men when suddenly the doorbell rang. "What on Earth?"
Candace rasped, irritated. "Whoever it is, I'll get rid of them." She
adjusted her blouse to cover her undone bra and headed upstairs.
It was Beth -- and Robert Rankin. "Hi, Candace. Can we use the
playroom? Robert wants to try his hand at a few things..." Beth took in
Candace's somewhat disheveled appearance.
"I'm... entertaining right now," Candace replied, clearly irritated.
"Oh? Who? If you don't mind..." Beth asked.
"Coach Garber."
"Okay, we'll run along. Sorry! It's just that so much of my stuff
-- and the pillory..." Beth apologized.
Candace grimaced. That put a different spin on things. Beth and
Robert wanted to play BDSM games -- and there WAS nowhere else... She
stepped back. "Come on in. If Martin is hampered by what you two are
doing, we can always go upstairs to my room."
Martin had put himself together by the time they made it downstairs.
"I should be going..."
"Absolutely not!" Beth retorted. "We're here for basically the same
thing -- can't we coexist? That will add a little spice, don't you think?"
She introduced herself and Robert. "You two go on with what you were doing
-- we're going to be over there... You won't disturb us -- in fact, an
audience adds a little something for me..."
"Really?" Martin asked. "What will you be doing?"
"Well, we don't know how far Robert can carry it," Beth replied,
"but the basic plan is that he will beat me then fuck me."
Martin's eyebrows went up. "No kidding?"
"No kidding. I'm a submissive -- and I haven't had it in a long
time..." Beth confirmed.
Martin turned to Candace. "I'd like to watch."
Candace was philosophical about it. "Live entertainment is better
than the canned stuff," she replied. "Let's get some chairs while they set
up."
Beth laid everything for the scene out, discussing it all with
Robert as she did it. "Okay, we'll use this quirt and this paddle -- that
should be plenty," she said. "Now, Sweetie, it's your first time and my
first in a long time, so we should have a safe word. If things go too far,
I'll say 'Bombay' -- okay? If I say 'Bombay', then you should stop what
you're doing right away and try to find out what is wrong. But if I don't
say it, you're not hurting me and you shouldn't worry, understand? If I
don't say that word, everything is fine, no matter if I scream and yell or
cry or whatever -- if I don't say that word, you can continue." She led him
to the pillory. "We'll put my hands in the holes but leave my head out. If
we get to the place I want to get to, you may be able to turn me around and
work on the front side, but for now, we'll start on my ass and back. Start
easy, and work up slowly -- if you go too fast, I'll not be able to hold
things together, but if you go slow and work up the intensity, sooner or
later I'll be taking whatever you dish out. You'll be able to tell, and we
have the word, anyway. Okay?"
"Okay," Robert replied uncertainly.
"If we don't get there tonight, but it doesn't bother you, we can
always go further another time," Beth told him, "but if you can handle it,
keep going. It's about endorphins, Sweetie, okay? You know what those
are." She allowed him to fasten her to the pillory, and the session began.
Robert started with the paddle -- a basic, ping-pong paddle without
modifications of any type. He was nervous and diffident at first, but Beth
encouraged him quietly and soon he became somewhat fascinated with the
effect of the paddle on her ass -- the flow of the shock wave rippling
through her buttocks. He took it slow, as Beth had instructed him before
the start of the session, pausing several seconds between strikes. As his
confidence grew, he applied more and more force; Beth made noises in
response to the pain inflicted, but avoided the use of the safe word and did
not seem to be unduly distressed.
Beth's ass was cherry red when Robert announced, "I'm switching to
the quirt, now." She nodded, but otherwise said nothing. She was sniffling
and her cheeks were wet, but once again apparently in no serious difficulty.
The first slashing blow from the quirt brought an "Uuh!" from her, but she
deliberately turned her head to look at Robert, knowing he would be
concerned, and nodded her head.
Candace sat wincing at every blow; Martin controlled it better, but
he was amazed. After a few strokes with the quirt, Beth's thighs began to
shake; Martin whispered, "Has she wet herself?"
"I don't think so," Robert replied, and stepping up behind her,
rubbed three fingers along her pudenda. Beth wailed and thrashed -- and
everyone present recognized an orgasm. Robert smelled his fingers and
announced, "No, it's her juice..."
The revelation released Robert from his earlier concerns; confident,
he continued to slowly ramp up the intensity of his strokes, stopping every
ten to fifteen to touch Beth's vagina. She was there, in sub-space; every
such contact elicited an orgasmic response.
Candace found herself becoming excited despite her dismay at the
punishment itself; her hand crept to Martin's lap and discovered an
erection. Moments after she broke that barrier, Martin's hand enveloped her
left breast.
Robert croaked through a dry throat, "I'm going to turn her around."
He released her, and more or less supporting her, refastened her to the
device facing him, her arms running under the bars to reach the holes for
her wrists.
He knew what she wanted -- they'd discussed it -- but that first
stroke across her breasts was difficult to execute. The scream it elicited
made it worse, until he realized that she was in orgasm. He waited until
her head dropped and struck her again. And again. And yet again.
Ten strokes was all he could bring himself to deliver; at that
point, he put the quirt down and released her from the pillory. Not
surprisingly, Beth collapsed in his arms; Martin got up to help him place
her on a mattress, where Robert joined her, holding her close.
Martin and Candace went back to the couch and the porn video,
granting them a modicum of privacy. Both found that they were aroused to
the point that clothing was a hindrance; in less than ten minutes, Candace
was riding Martin's erection, bouncing on his lap on the couch.
The real surprise came as they wound down and Martin poured
ejaculate into Candace's vagina. When she stopped and settled against him,
having managed two orgasms, and the pair of them caught their breath, they
became aware of noises of sexual congress that were NOT coming from the
television! Robert was pounding into Beth from the missionary position, and
she was purring and spurring him to further effort, wailing, "Fuck me,
Sweetie! Oh, God! You have no idea what you've done for me! Fuck! Fuck!
Fuck!"
Clearly, Beth was beside herself. Candace shook her head. "After
what he just did to her, I wouldn't be able to move -- and I DAMN sure
wouldn't want him fucking me!"
Martin nodded. "I'd heard of such things, but had never seen
anything like it."
"Well, I get a little juicy if you spank me -- but it HURTS, you
know? Something like that is just beyond me," Candace muttered. "Let's go
upstairs and leave them to... that..." She took Martin's hand and led him
upstairs. Her bedroom would do fine for Round Two.
It worked for Round Three, too.
----------------------------------
Frank Pendergast was utterly relaxed and utterly drained -- for the
first time in a LOOOONG time! Adele Hayes was a big woman -- with a big
ass, and big hooters, and big thighs, and a little fat on her, here and
there -- but she had big needs, too, and once they got past the color thing
and being strangers and other embarrassments, he found out about her big,
soft lips and how a woman with the proper padding could provide a big, soft
ride.
Adele was soft; Frank learned that almost as soon as they entered
Adele's darkened bedroom. She pulled him against her, saying, "Come here,
baby, let me feel you." The woman was as tall as he was and definitely
outweighed him, but he didn't feel threatened -- and he quickly discovered a
pair of big, soft lips.
Adele was pleasantly surprised, too; Frank was kind of small, but
you could feel his muscles, even if you couldn't see them very well. He was
ALL muscle, as far as she could tell, and that was a lot more pleasant than
some of her more recent older male partners.
The pair of them got undressed in the light of a rather dim lamp,
each worried about his or her various shortcomings, both perceived and
actual -- but when Frank stretched himself out atop her and started kissing
her neck and worrying her big nipples while working a thigh between hers,
Adele forgot all about much of anything but what he was doing to her.
Adele was fully receptive in very little time; she'd gotten more
foreplay from Frank than she was used to. But Frank decided that it might
be nice to get closely acquainted with the big clit his fingers found
between her puffy pussy lips, so he scooted down to attack it and the
shocking pink opening below it with his lips and tongue.
"Baby, you don't have to... OH MY GAAAWWWDDD!!!" Adele wailed, and
she pinned his face to her with both hands while he wrung an orgasm out of
her. "Oh, Baby! That was... Wow!" Adele squealed when he struggled back
up to his former position, his face wet with her juices.
"Thought you might like that," Frank declared, self-satisfied. "I
got somethin' else for ya now..." He dug his hips between her thick thighs,
spreading them, and worked the head of his cock between her spread lips.
Seating it was no problem, nor was the insertion; Adele moaned as his sinewy
cock slid home in her.
This was a different situation than he'd had with Jean. Adele was
no princess, no china doll to be treated gently and carefully. Adele
confirmed that for him right away, and he never really got started worrying
about it. "Oh, Baby, I LIKE that!" Adele panted and grabbed his ass -- and
away he went, rocking and rolling.
From Adele's perspective, Frank was a perpetual motion machine made
to fuck. His hips snapped again and again, pistoning his cock into her
smoking cooze until her juices ran molten from it and she lost her mind --
and he was still doing it when she returned. He was bone and gristle and
muscle and a cock that sometimes seemed to be a foot long despite the fact
that she was pretty sure it was only half of that, pounding its length
metronomically into her while he chewed one of her fat nipples until she was
sure it was bloody -- and she didn't care... Four times he brought her to
that place where nothing existed but pleasure before collapsing atop her --
but not before she felt him shoot long jets of his seed deep into her. Then
he went to sleep -- and she didn't give a damn because he'd earned it, BIG
time!
Frank had collapsed somewhat irritated with himself -- he was
capable of riding a woman twice as long, he was certain. Maybe it was old
age... In any case, part of the problem had been the feel of it -- Adele
was good pussy, and he had everything he could do to control himself under
the intense pleasure rubbing the inside of her twat generated in his rod.
The bitch's inside lining was like gathered velvet -- soft and with deep
folds that caressed his meat until he thought he was gonna go nuts from the
feel of it. When he finally DID lose it, he thought he'd blown the head of
his cock clean off, he shot jizz so hard, but it settled down pretty quick.
He crashed against one of those cantaloupe-sized titties of hers and went
out like a light...
He popped awake at one a.m. with a piss hard, drooling on the valley
between them big-ass titties. He tried to get up without disturbing her,
but, shit, he was using the bitch for a mattress... When she grabbed his
bicep, he muttered, "Gotta go pee," and sat up, feeling blindly for his
clothes.
She didn't let go. "You don't need that stuff," she insisted.
"I'll take you -- but you're coming back to bed, hear?"
"You don't hafta..." Frank sputtered.
"I know I don't hafta," she replied, "but I wanna. It's nice having
someone in bed with me, you know? I'm not soft on you, or anything, but
sometimes..."
"Yeah." Frank had to agree with her. "C'mon, take me to the pisser
before I leave a puddle." They padded down the hallway and he peed, then
she peed, and they padded back; he got into bed and rolled onto his side and
she pressed fifty pounds of tit flesh against his back -- and you know what?
It was pretty fucking good...
He woke up again at three forty-three -- that's what the digital
clock said, anyway. He was flat on his back -- and some serious lips were
riding up and down his boner, which was at full extension. He reached down
and got a handful of springy hair, "What'cha doin'?"
"I got so horny," her voice came, breathless, "I couldn't help
myself. Fuck me again, please?"
"Bein' you asked purty..." He hauled at her -- and got instantly
reminded that she was no little split. There'd be no ridin' HER on top, for
instance -- that was for little shit like Teela, not big hammers... "How do
ya want it?"
"Doggy. I want it doggy," Adele insisted. "Make me your bitch."
"Comin' up..." There was no problem finding her slot in the dark,
but the hole proved difficult -- he almost poked her ass. Something told
him that she'd have let him, too... Once slotted, he had a big ass cheek in
each hand; if he tugged a bit, she met him halfway on the stroke. It was
time to ride...
Adele thought she was going to go insane; Frank rode her like he'd
ridden her before -- and just kept on going! She yelled so loud at four
fourteen that Alyssa popped open the bedroom door and asked, "Mama, are you
okay?" And she waved her daughter off, wordless, because the LAST thing she
wanted was for that rangy little bastard pounding her ass to stop! She came
seven times -- and collapsed, unable to cum again -- before he grunted,
"Here it comes!" and painted her cervix.
"Now THAT's a FUCK, by fuckin' god," Frank muttered to himself, his
lungs puffing like a bellows. "I gotta go pee again, then you're gonna let
my ass sleep, ya hear?"
"Yes, Baby, I hear..."
'Bitch is smilin' -- I can hear it in her voice...' Frank thought,
grinning, as he stalked down the hall to the bathroom. 'Showed her ass a
thing or two...' This time when he came back he stuck his cock in the crack
of her ass and grabbed a handful of titty, stuck his nose in her neck and
went on out...