!ADULTS ONLY! Tag Bonewell: House Dick!

Her story finished, Tracy asked, "And what did you do last night, for entertainment?"

Lucy, whose motto is, tell it like it is, said, "I fucked the balls off of old Ivan! To kind of thank him for you."

"Old Ivan?" The name seemed familiar to her, but then again, it didn't.

"Yeah, Ivan Shakely. He had Tag's job before going to the other coast. It was Ivan who planted the four cameras in suite 209. For your Oscar winning performance as the underage damsel in distress. Ivan also confronted Burns, and got you that nice, big fat check. And the tapes. Which, by the way, Ivan destroyed.

"And, since you were busy, uh, thanking Taggy, I felt someone should step up and thank old Ivan, seeing as how we couldn't have pulled it off without him." She put the back of her right hand up to her forehead, looked down at the desk, and shammed the look of someone who had been thrown to the wolves.

"Geez, Luce, I'm feeling a bit guilty. Is he really that horrible?" If so, she couldn't understand why Lucy had done it. Was Lucy that good a friend?

"Nah, Ivan's a great piece off ass. He's long in the tooth, for sure, but he's also long in the tool!" She laughed.

Tracy also laughed. "It's your turn to tell me all about last night. And don't leave out even one delicious detail. OK?" She plopped down in the chair in front of Lucy's desk.

It was OK. Lucy told her how Ivan had dropped by the office last night, and how one thing had led to another, as it usually did. How, after working hours were ended, she had joined Ivan in his suite, and fucked him royally for hours. She described Ivan's hard 7" cock, and noticed it was Tracy's turn to do some chair squirming.

"And," Lucy went on. "Although it was naughty of us, our third fuck session was accompanied by a porno film of some young woman being fucked by nine fearsome pirates!" She grinned at Tracy.

Tracy said, "Oh, shit, the suite 209 film! I know he had to see it, Luce, to help Tag doctor it and all, but did he have to keep a copy?" She seemed genuinely worried by the thought. And embarrassed.

"Don't worry about old Ivan, kiddo, he's from the Tag Bonewell school of male ethics. He'll fuck a girl, but never tell. Besides, he's probably destroying that last tape even as we speak." She knew otherwise, knowing old Ivan as well as she now did. He'd be jerking off to that tape until the day he died. And probably all the other tapes as well. But she also knew no one would see it but him.

Tracy wasn't completely sold. "Lucy, I've been through hell because of these stupid tapes. If Ivan is still at the hotel, I'd like to speak to him. It could, it would, put my mind to rest."

"Good idea. He'd like that. But be warned, you lusty wench! After watching you in action last night, if I tell him you're coming to see him, in the flesh, he'll probably greet you at the door with a parrot on one shoulder and a black patch over one eye." Lucy laughed at the silly imagery.

Tracy couldn't help herself. She had to laugh at the imagery, too. "Ha ha ha!" Then, for Lucy's benefit, she did her squawky voice parrot routine. "She loves to fuck! She loves to suck!"

Lucy laughed, and said, "You sing that to old Ivan and you'd better walk the plank, girl. Because he's gonna rip that sexy gown right off you, and ravish your ass until you think he's a young Errol Flynn." They both laughed. "Last night, when you crooned that to the boys, Ivan waved his cock at the screen and said, 'Here, Polly, how's this for a cracker?' "

"He sounds as delightfully nutty and as perverted as Tag!" Tracy squirmed in the chair again.

Lucy noticed. "Honey, if you're as wet as I think you are right now, you need a hard, bloodthirsty pirate in you. Still want to talk to old Bluebeard Ivan?" She winked at Tracy, who was still squirming around.

"Mmm, I don't know. You've made him sound nice and all, but . . . oh, fuck, Lucy, who am I kidding? Yes, I wanna fuck him! There, I've said it. Call his ship, oops! I meant suite! Ha ha! And tell him a very horny parrot needs a good hard cracker!"

"You want me to telegraph to him you're gonna fuck him?"

"Why not? Yes, make it clear he's going to be fucking me. It'll put him at ease, and drive him crazy with anticipation at the same time. Call him!" She squirmed again. She was in a getting fucked mood.

Lucy said, "You're one dirty bird, Tracy Winsome!" They both laughed.

Lucy called Ivan's suite. "Ivan, Lucy here . . . Yeah, good morning to you, too. Guess what? Tracy's here with me and, you ain't gonna believe your good luck, but she wants me to tell you that . . . as thanks for a job well done . . . she wants to fuck your brains out!" She put her hand over the mouthpiece, and said to Tracy, "He doesn't believe me. Thinks I'm funning with him." She handed the phone to Tracy.

"Ivan? It's Tracy. Lucy's telling you the truth. I want to show you just how much I appreciate all you've done for me. So, me pirate matey, without any further fanfare . . . wanna fuck me?" Ooh, she thought, I am a dirty bird! She listened for a while, said okay, and then put the phone back on its cradle. She winked at Lucy.

"What he say, what he say?" Lucy was beside herself with the need to know, and was squirming fitfully in her chair.

"He's waiting for an important call from the coast, but he told me to come up in one hour. And he told me, jokingly I'd better say, that if this is a put on, he's gonna plant a redheaded Fern in his garden!"

"Ha ha! He's a pip, he is. You'll like him, Tracy, in more ways than one."

"Speaking of like, is there anything special he really digs?"

"Well, his nipples are supersensitive . . . "

* * * * * *

AN HOUR LATER found Tracy outside Ivan's suite. She knocked gently. An eye could be seen in the peephole. A few seconds later, the door flew open, and there he was.

Fully nude, except for a black patch over his right eye. And a small skull and crossbones flag tied to his flaccid cock. He waved the flag at her once, and said, "Come aboard, me matey, we can't sail without yer!" He waved the flag again, and beckoned her to enter.

Tracy busted out laughing. "Ha ha ha, where on earth did you find those?" She entered, still laughing, her eyes following the waving flag.

He stayed in the pirate mode, still waving the little flag around. "I lied about the call, me bawdy wench, as we fibbing pirates are known to do. I needed time to find me a toy store." He lifted the black patch, and winked the now unhidden eye at her. She laughed again.

Abandoning the pirate mode for the moment, he said, "God, woman, that dress is something else! Lucy was right, this is my lucky day!" He went up to her, took her face into both of his strong hands, and kissed her. He had never felt this lucky in all his sixty-odd years.

She kissed him back, their tongues battling each other, and their saliva exchanging places. Through the thin silk of the gown, she felt his strong hands exploring her ass cheeks, kneading them, and then he was at her breasts, kneading them, too, and then at her back, caressing her.

She reached down and found his flag-draped cock. It was already flying at full mast. His cock, that is, not the flag, although the flag went along for the ride. She massaged his dick, the flag acting as a material coat, and heard him moan into her mouth.

Kissing all the while, she heard the zipper of the gown being pulled down. She felt his fingers on her shoulders, pushing the straps off of her. She felt the gown make its way down her body, exposing her body fully to him, her nipples hardening in the cool air. He moaned into her mouth again.

Still kissing, she felt his hands explore her once more. His hands hit the same places as before, but this time she could feel the coarse roughness of them. When the strong, rough hands found her pussy, and his callused fingers probed into her, it was her turn to moan into his mouth. And to daydream of pirates with strong, hard hands.

And still he kissed her. It was the longest kiss she had ever experienced, and she loved it. His fingers continued to work their magic on her. Then it all overcame her. The roughness of his touch. The strength of his fingers. The way he was probing her pussy, so hard and merciless, so callused and strong. She felt herself cumming. Her tongue flew around the inside of his mouth, hot and wet, and she moaned loudly.

He knew she was cumming, and he kissed her all the way through the sensation. His mouth just wouldn't quit. Nor would his strong fingers. He was driving her crazy, and he knew it. And still he kissed her. And drove her even crazier. She was now moaning into his mouth nonstop, with her ass moving in small, frantic gyrations.

Oh, God, she thought, he's making me cum again! And he was, and she gave into it totally, her legs feeling weak, and almost collapsing on her. And still her kissed her . . .

She pulled her tongue from his mouth and, with her lips still touching his, she breathed out, "Oh, Ivan, Ivan, I want you so very much! You've gotten me so fucking hot, I can hardly stand." She threw her arms around his neck, pulling his face into her. Then she back up an inch or so, and said, as breathy as before "You filthy brigand, you!"

He broke from the kiss, and laughed. She laughed, too, because his eye patch was now up on his forehead, as if covering a third eye. She reached out and lifted it up, and looked. "Whew," she said jokingly. "For a moment there, Ivan, I thought you had gone Cyclops on me!" She let the patch snap back into place.

Ivan chuckled, and said, "No, darling, if I saw you with more than two eyes, the beautiful vision of you would undoubtedly kill me." He removed the patch, and the flag, and tossed them into the air, not caring where they ended up.

"Oh, Ivan, that's beautiful! You're a poetic pirate."

"I have my moments. But, hey, how about we play my fantasy for a while?"

"What's that?"

"Well, it's a romantic one, see? In it, we're married, but we haven't seen each other in six months. I've been . . . out to sea, let's say." She knew he was making it up as he went along. "And I come home, and we . . . uh . . . catch up on all our lost love making, with, uh . . . unbridled passion. Yeah. We have some wine. We put some romantic music on. We light the room with nothing but candles. Yeah. Candles. Scented ones. I'll have to have some sent up to our bridal suite.

"Then we make love, as a husband and wife who haven't seen each other in six months, but slowly at first, sensuously and . . . uh . . . then we fuck like two rabbits in the rutting season!" He laughed. She did, too.

Tracy went over to the phone and picked it up. She put it to her face and said, "It's for you, my darling hubby. Someone wants to know how many scented candles you want . . . "

The End.
"From my mind, to your mind!"