Chapter 310: Christian Devereaux, 15, Mr. M. W...

Sara Dumas was surprisingly calm on Saturday morning as she drove Charlie to Miss Kitty’s. Darlene was pairing her up with another new girl — a young mom named Carrie Benoit. It would be her stage debut as well.

Sara and Carrie were standing in front of the wall-sized mirror, nude, applying makeup.

Darlene told them, “This is a treat for the boys — two rookies. I’ve never done that before.” She smiled at Sara, “Did Richie give you your marching orders?”

“Yes ma’am. He tole me to slut it up. To cum and cum.”

Carrie giggled.

Darlene asked her, “Has Tommy seen you naked yet?”

“No ma’am. But I showed him that video that Ray-Ray made. So he knows what to expect.”

“Good. Now don’t bother with costumes — just strut out there and have sex.”

“Yes ma’am.” “Yes ma’am.”

Evelyn did the intros over a hand-held mic, “Special treat today boys — these two girls have never danced, never appeared in public. Never even met each other until a few minutes ago. So let’s see what they’re willing to do!”

The wall of noise startled Sara, but didn’t put a hesitation in her step. Holding hands, the two rookies bounded onto the stage to a sea of naked boys.

Sara — confident Sara, Richie’s-girlfriend Sara — took the lead. She held Carrie in her arms and deep-kissed her. Both girls were obviously turned on. As the kissed, their fingers found each other’s pussy.

Sara had forgotten about Charlie. She was peripherally aware of all those boys, but was soon lost in the moment. She lay back on the bed, and guided Carrie to sit on her face. It was only the second pussy she’d ever licked, but it felt familiar. Somehow right.

Sara’s arousal lasted, and then accelerated at Carrie went down on her. As instructed, she climaxed hard.

Her favorite part, however, was the post-show audience-mingling. She was still on a high from the sex. And that ever-present knowledge that she now belonged to Richie. So, as she and Carrie meandered through the crowd of eager, horny boys, she felt buoyant. Elated.

She got a special bump when Charlie’s friends crowded around her. She’d known many of them all of their lives. And was aware that they would never look at the the same way again.

In all of her excitement, she hadn’t forgotten her assignment. Richie had told her, “Deep-kiss Charlie. Feel him up.”

Sara had giggled, “What if he cums?”

“Bonus points.”

When Charity Devereaux got home from the Bayou Bar, she was startled to realize it was only 9 in the morning. She felt as if Slim and CC had had her for hours.

Despite what she’d been through — the most intense experience of her life, well, childbirth excluded — her mind was clear, almost serene. She slid between the sheets, and easily drifted off to sleep.

Surprisingly she was out for less than an hour. In the shower, she took inventory — mental and physical. Her body was a little sore — mostly from the strain of climaxing.

But she was more interested in how she felt about herself. It would have been easy to feel resentful. It — Slim — had been an ambush in a way. Yet ... who would she be upset with? Karisha? Darlene? Not Ray-Ray — he was simply doing his job.

CC? Hardly. That left Slim — the woman had sized her up, evaluated her. Probably had watched the clip of CC fucking her. But what Cherry felt was more like gratitude. She had been unprepared for a threesome, yet...

She turned off the shower, and as she dried off, she gave herself the Charity Devereaux Test. One she’d been self-administrating since back when she had her first kiss. Way back when.

It was a one-question exam — would she do it again? Cherry giggled at the instant answer — fuck yes!

Later, at supper, Chris looked at his mother, “You been out in the sun?”

Oh boy.

“Yeah — I went for a long walk — gotta keep in shape.”

He made a snowman-gesture with his hands, “You’re in good shape.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

That led him into familiar territory, “So when are you going to ... you know ... Miss Kitty’s?”

“God, get your tiny, feeble mind out of the gutter.”

“Did Miss Broussard ask you to dance or not?”

““Yeah, about 50-years ago.”

“Well?”

“Do you think of anything but sex?” God, I should talk!

“Sure — pussy.”

“Go to your room this instant. And wash your mouth out.”

“Why? You got a hot date with Mr. M. W.?”

Cherry looked at him, pretending to be thoughtful, “I’m just wondering what you’ll be like without your balls.”

“Child abuse! I’m reporting you to Jolene!”

“Speaking of pussy.” Cherry made a jacking-off motion with her fist.

Chris made his own fist, and with a buzzing sound, pretended to be using the Magic Wand.

Cherry shook her head, “Hopeless. He’s just hopeless.”