Chapter 348: Rosie Robinson,27, Debut...

Rosie Robinson went up, on her own, to Darlene, “I’m ready.”

“I know you are, dear.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“For starters, I’ll have Danny Boy fuck you on stage.”

Rosie giggled, “Yes ma’am.”

Kate’s personal quest — the total conversion of a deeply pious church-going woman — was complete. It didn’t affect Kate’s bottom line; it wouldn’t be publicized in the media.

No, Kate had done it for her own satisfaction. Eulalie knew, of course. As did Darlene and Ray-Ray. But mostly, it had just been a minor goal — Kate had endured the religious wrath for years.

And now, one of their own would do whatever Kate wanted.

Kate didn’t count Linda Whitestone. That girl had been a sidebar bonus. She, like Kitty Arceneaux, had become too slutty, too fast. Linda was now drawing names and fucking customers.

No, it was Rosie Robinson that Kate and her team had targeted, groomed, and seduced. Sometimes the quiet triumphs were the sweetest.

One other aspect of Rosie’s conversion had been mental — emotional. If you asked her now who had been better friends, had been genuinely kinder to her — the contingent from her years of faithfully attending church, or Darlene’s girls — it wouldn’t even be a question.

The strippers and whores and waitresses who bared it all had become true friends. Staunch, stand-by-me allies. She trusted them with her life and loved them with her soul.

And Kate had found the seduction process to be fascinating. No coercion, no threats, no pressure. Just kindness and consideration.

Which would make for interesting choices in the future. Darlene would have more than one pathway to converting young girls and eager mothers.

The carrot-way had taken longer than the stick, But it had been a fun change of pace. Something for Darlene to keep in mind for futures.

Sometimes, within the Laws of Unintended Consequences, there was a positive outcome. And that turned out to be the case with those Monday-afternoon Cum Cones. The gimmick sparked a trend — the Flavor of the Year ended up having legs.

Shelly Musson had two additional helpers in each of her four trucks. Thus, three kids-per-truck were passing out the free cones. The lines moved quickly.

There was no accurate way to measure the number of Cum Cone snowballers, but anecdotal evidence suggested the one-day movement had swept through the school system.

Darlene had Ray-Ray create a special Cum-Cone section for the Miss-Kitty website. Students from all over town posted hundreds of photos and film clips. Most depicted kids merely deep-kissing each other.

But there were dozens and dozens of clips showing beaming little girls holding out their cones as eager boys jacked off onto the shaved ice.

Then, the often-giggling girls, eagerly slurped and snowballed, slurped and snowballed.

And, Darlene, who had tasted and approved the new flavor — vanilla with a touch of butterscotch — actually liked the taste. So, she instituted a new drink at Contrary Mary’s. Actually, two drinks — one without alcohol.

Cum Cola was an instant hit. It was tasty — sure. But more than that, the kids liked the idea, the naughtiness of it. Even the Sunday-morning, after-church crowds were ordering Cum Colas. The word ‘cum’ was now so deeply impeded in the public lexicon, that even church-fundraisers featured the vastly popular drink.

Darlene met with a bottler up in Jackson to explore bottling Cum Cola, but it proved to be too expensive for a limited small-town market.

However, Contrary Mary’s Cum & Tonic became the real hit. Customers could have a splash of vodka, gin, or rum to their Cum Tonic for only a dollar more.

As Kate gave her more and more responsibility, Darlene had gained a lot of confidence over the past several months. On a day-to-day basis, she was essentially running the pussy in Sausalito.

That growing confidence manifested itself in ways beyond mere management. She was learning to innovate, to think creatively.

So, riffing on the success of the Cum Cones, Darlene met with an extruding firm up in Gulfport. It took a lot of experimenting, a lot of failures, some near misses, but eventually the Cumsicle was ready for production.

The new plastic molds produced six packs of penis-shaped popsicles that were sold to students from Shelly Musson’s snow-cone trucks. The flavor — vanilla with a hint of butterscotch — was the same as the Cum Cones.

But the Cumsicle version was much more popular — an instant hit. So popular, in fact, that Darlene increased production as every grocery store in Sausalito wanted to carry the line.

The Cumsicle model was eerily realistic to an actual engorged boner — with a clearly-defined head, and a bulging vein. Watching kids — and adults — sucking a Cumsicle was hilarious. And slightly obscene. And, hugely popular.

Not resting on her laurels, Darlene expanded the line to include different flavors — lemon, strawberry, lime, and the like. Eventually she changed the brand name to Cocksicles to more accurately reflect the breadth of the line.

But, the consistent best-seller — week after week, month after month — was the original Cumsicle.

The word ‘Cum’ was on the lips — and tongues — of everyone from grade-schoolers to grannies all across town.

Darlene called Rosie Robinson at home on a Tuesday night, “Meet me at City Hall at 8 tomorrow morning. In the mayor’s office.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Rosie had never been inside the building. He husband, her ex-husband, had handled all the of official paperwork — taxes, permits, whatever. She had seen Gigi Fontenot around town, and of course worked with her at Miss Kitty’s, so she wasn’t particularly nervous about meeting in the mayor’s office. Curious, of course, but ... well, Rosie had a newfound confidence these days.

She shaved her legs carefully — since Darlene was involved, the meeting probably had something to do with sex. Rosie giggled to herself — of course it would involve sex.

Rosie showed up early, but had to wait only a couple of minutes before being escorted into Gigi’s lavish, for Sausalito, office. Rosie stopped short — Eulalie Guidry — the Eulalie Guidry was there. She and Darlene and Gigi were visiting comfortably. The three smiled at Rosie, and Darlene did the introductions.

Eulalie shook Rosie’s hand firmly and said, “I’m so pleased to meet you. Darlene has told me all about you. What a good little girl you’ve been for her.”

Rosie blushed with pleasure, “Thank you, ma’am, thank you so much.”

Darlene smiled kindly, “Show Eulalie what you got, dear.”

“Acourse, acourse.” No hesitation. It never occurred to her to question Darlene — she stripped and stood there, hands folded behind he butt.

Eulalie looked the 27-year-old up and down. Nodded appreciatively, ‘“You’re right, Darlene, church-pussy can be special.”

Rosie’s breath caught — a compliment from Eulalie Guidry!

The attention was almost overwhelming — the mayor, Darlene, and Eulalie Guidry — all smiling at her. Rosie felt a little shaky, a little weak in the knees.

Eulalie smiled pleasantly, “Darlene told me how far you’ve come. And you did it on your own. Made your own decisions, I mean.”

“Yes ma’am, thank you ma’am.”

Gigi spoke up, “It was interesting to watch her progress, Eulalie. Rosie was so shy and hesitant at first. And Darlene never pushed her, never once.”

Eulalie’s smile widened, “And now?”

Darlene patted Rosie on the butt, “Tell her, dear.”

Rosie stood straighter, and squared her shoulders, “Danny Boy and Denise fucked me on the Miss Kitty stage!”

Eulalie nodded judiciously, “Did you cum, honey?”

Rosie was startled, “Acourse. I mean ... acourse. That’s what Darlene expects? On stage?”

Eulalie winked at Darlene, “Show her the list.”

“Yes ma’am.” She handed Rosie a computer printout. Rosie scanned it, puzzled. There were about 40 or 50 names — men, and a few women, with telephone numbers and addresses included. Their ages too.

Darlene explained, “These are customers, honey. Miss Kitty’s and Contrary Mary’s. They’ve seen you. And want you.”

Rosie sucked in her breath, “Me?” She was stunned, overwhelmed. “Oh my God!” She felt a mixture of surprise and pride — she could feel her cheeks burning, her heart racing.

Darlene placed her palms on Rosie’s cheeks, “Listen carefully to me, hon.”

“Uh? Oh, acourse. Acourse.”

“I want you to contact each of these 44 people. Just visit with them — find out exactly what they want.” Darlene shrugged, “A blowjob, some pussy, whatever.”

Staring up into Darlene’s eyes, her voice was a whisper, “Yes ma’am. I will.”

“I know you will, darling. But this is the key — you decide, you yourself decide, if you want to do anything with any of them.”

“Me?”

“You.”

Rosie gradually understood. It would be like when she first started working for Darlene. Darlene left the sex decisions up to her. And, over time, each escalation had been just a little bit easier for Rosie.

She looked again at the list. It was in alphabetical order — 44 names in all. The ages ranged from 14-years-old to 52.

Gigi winked at her, “Darlene has a second list.”

“Oh?”

“Kids. Boys and girls — 28 of them — whose mamas told Darlene they were sweet on you. From 8-years-old on up. They all have seen you at Contrary Mary’s — the Flapper Girl.”

“Oh my.”

Darlene said, “But I can’t give you that list until Eulalie signs off on the preteen program.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“But as soon as I do, you’ll contact those 28 mothers.”

Rosie nodded briskly, ‘Acourse. Yes ma’am, acourse.”

Eulalie watched the exchange with amusement. It simply wouldn’t occur to any of Darlene’s girls to question her.

Rosie slowly raised her hand, like she was in class, “Um, Darlene? Those young boys? Am I suppose to fuck them? The ones on this big list?”

Darlene crossed her arms and pretended annoyance, “Rosie, Rosie, Rosie. I don’t tell you to fuck anyone. You decide that on your own.”

Rosie blushed down to her chest, mortified. She even took an involuntary step back, “Oh, God, I’m sorry, Darlene. I jess forgot for a minute. This is all so new. And Eulalie...” Her voice trailed off.

Eulalie smiled kindly, “Sit down, dear. Darlene has another assignment for you — one that’s important to Kate.”

Rosie plopped down, staring up at the three of them, her knees widening and closing like a little girt. So much authority in the room. At work, Gigi was a pal. But in the mayor’s office ... And Darlene Pellerin. Darlene was like the boss of bosses — in charge of all the pussy in town.

But more that all of that ... Eulalie Guidry! The legend. The 14-year-old girl who ran Sausalito.

Rosie took a deep breath. Concentrate. This is important —concentrate.

Darlene tapped the list that Rosie was clutching, “The demand for church-pussy surprised me, honey. You’re not as popular as my really young stuff, but I’m fielding more requests for you than for my regular moms and grannies combined.”

Rosie beamed and sat up straighter, “Wow!”

“So what do you think your next assignment is?”

Rosie frowned in concentration. She could feel the three sets of eyes on her. Could feel the pressure. Absentmindedly, she rolled the printout into a tube and tapped it against her thigh. She was now so used to being naked in front of people that it wasn’t even a consideration.

Then suddenly Rosie smiled, “Church-pussy! You want me to get you some more church-pussy.”

Darlene smiled, bent down, and kissed Rosie’s forehead, “Such a good little girl.”

Rosie beamed.

Darlene, “You get together with your pal, Linda, and make a list of prospects for me?”

“Yes ma’am!”

Gigi winked at Eulalie, “Linda Whitestone is the new town punch. Darlene has her fucking audience members at Miss Kitty’s.”

Rosie stood up for her friend, “She’s still good people.”

Eulalie thought, Loyalty. Good girl.

Darlene had learned from Kate to be clear, to be specific, “So, Rosie, what are your two assignments?’

She held up the tube of paper, “Contact everyone on this list. Find out wha they want.”

Darlene nodded.

“An’ work with Linda. We got to find you some new church-pussy.”

“Good girl. Very good.”

Rosie raised her hand again, “Um, ma’am?”

“Yes dear.”

“I think I got me a prospect for you?”

“Really? Who?”

“Adele? Adele Whitestone? Linda’s mama?”

“Okay.”

“She’s not real keen on Reverend Mosby. Not since he started preaching against me alla time.”

“Huh. How old is she?”

“She’s 49, but she’s still in pretty good shape.”

“Does she know about Linda? At Miss Kitty’s?”

Rosie frowned, “Well, Linda didn’t tell her.” Shrug, “But it’s a small town ... I think she might know without knowing?”

Darlene nodded thoughtfully, “I can see her being of some value to me. The religious thing, of course. And she’s a granny.” Darlene nodded again, “Once I get her broken in, there’s always a demand to fuck a mother-daughter team.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Well, start with Adele. But work up a list of other possibles for me.”

“Yes ma’am. Linda and Adele know which ones watch porn. Even though they’re not supposed to.”

“That’s a good place to start.” Darlene turned to Eulalie, “You want some pussy before I send Rosie home?”

Rosie’s heart fluttered.

“Thanks, Darlene, but Gigi and I have to review the annual budget before the City Council meeting.” She winked at Rosie, “Raincheck.”

“Oh, God! Anytime, Miss Eulalie, anytime at all!”

Darlene smiled at her, “Okay, Rosie — you’re my new project. The Rosie Robinson Project. Are you ready?”

“Um, yes ma’am, I think so, Um ... my list — am I supposed to charge money for ... you know, if I ... um, do something with them?”

“That’s up to you, dear.” Darlene winked, “But I don’t usually give out free pussy.”

“Oh. Acourse. Um, how much should I charge? An’ how much goes to you?”

Eulalie and Gigi exchanged a glance. Neither one was surprised that Darlene’s church-pussy had no qualms about whoring herself out. She just wanted to understand the rules — to abide by Darlene’s wishes.

“That’s entirely up to you, honey. But remember this — even though I expect you to contact everyone on that list, you don’t have to do one single sexual act. The decision is entirely up to you.”

Rosie frowned, this was complicated.

“But take a tripod with you — I want you to film the conversations you have — each and every one.”

Rosie nodded, “Yes ma’am. I won’t let you down.”

Rosie Robinson felt herself decompressing as she drove home from City Hall. What a morning! Being complimented by Eulalie Guidry. And being given two important assignments — church-pussy and that Rosie List.

At home, luxuriating in a bubble bath, she studied the list of 44 men, women, and kids. She smiled to herself — they had all, each and every one, seen her. Either at Miss Kitty’s or Contrary Mary’s. Maybe both places.

And they wanted her! Wanted Rosie Robinson.

The names were in alphabetical order. Let’s see... 25 men, 14 women. And 5 boys. No, wait, 4 boys and one girl. Hmm.

Darlene hadn’t told her to contact everyone in any certain order. So Rosie got out of the bath, showered quickly, and dried herself off. In the kitchen, she wrote out three lists — men, women, and teenagers.

Impulsively, she decided to start with the women. Before she could change her mind, she was dialing the first number. Beverly Dantin. Married, 42-years-old, four children. Her husband worked on an offshore platform, so she was probably okay on the money side.

“Hello?”

“Mrs. Dantin? This is Rosie Robinson? Darlene gave me your name? From Contrary Mary’s?”

“Oh. Of course! The Flapper Girl — how are you, hon?”

“Um, fine, thank you. Um, she said, Darlene said, that you wanted to ... um, meet me? With me? Sometime?”

“Oh. Absolutely! You are one foxy little number. Yeah, I’d love to hook up with you.”

Rosie smiled — this woman sounded not only friendly, but ... eager. Cool.

“Okay, um, how would it work?”

“Let’s see — you can’t come here. No privacy, so that wouldn’t work out. How about we meet at Mary’s? Have a pop, get to know each other.”

“Okay. Sure. When?”

“Hmm, I need to feed my brood after they get home from school. How about 5 — out on the deck?”

“I’ll be there. Oh wait! I’m supposed to ... Darlene wants me to, um, video our conversation?”

“Oh?” There was amusement in Beverly’s voice.

“Yes ma’am, she was real clear about that. Um, would you like to come by here? Before my two come home? From school?”

There was a pause, then Beverly giggled, “Sure. Why not? Why the fuck not? What’s your address, hon?”

Rosie gave her little house a quick walk-through. She didn’t bother with the kids’ bedrooms. Overall, the rest was pretty tidy. She put on a fresh pot of chicory, and stuck a bottle of Chardonnay in the fridge.

What to wear, what to wear?

She decided to keep it simple — panties and a tee that hung almost down to her knees.

Beverly breezed in, friendly and confident. Putting Rosie at ease almost immediately. She was still pretty at 42 — a wide, infectious smile. Tan, with black hair and a trim figure.

In the kitchen, she smiled at the tripod-mounted camera which was already turned on, “Darlene likes her videos, doesn’t she?”

“Yes ma’am. Um ... coffee — I have chicory. Or wine?”

“Wine please — I’m in the mood.”

As Rosie poured two glasses, Beverly teased her, “I was hoping you’d be wearing your flapper. Flapper Girl.”

Rosie giggled, “I could? I guess? If you wanted?”

Beverly grinned, and made a shooing gesture, “Go for it.”

In her bedroom, Rosie touched her hair — it was fine. Fluffed up her nipples, and used spirit gum to apply a tiny pink flap. Nodded to herself in the mirror, and sashayed back.

“Brava! You are ravishing, my dear.”

“Thank you.” Impulsively, Rosie did a pirouette. She felt more ... something ... naked than she did at work. Being in her kitchen, just the two of them ... well, it was a turn-on.

Beverly, “When I saw you that Sunday morning after church ... well, let’s just say, you were a Dantin-family hit. A big hit. Both my girls started bugging me when we got home — they wanted their own flaps.”

“Uh, I have some extra, if you want?”

“Hey, cool. Three, please.”

Rosie brought them right out. Beverly was pouring them a second glass of wine. She winked, “If you had on a garter, I’d tip you.”

Rosie giggled again, “Tips are always welcome.”

Beverly titled her head, curious, “Did Darlene tell you ... uh, what does Darlene expect you to do?”

Rosie took a large sip, “It’s up to me. Entirely. Darlene told me so this morning.”

Beverly frowned, a little confused, “But that’s not her police with most of the pussy? Is it?”

“No ma’am. See, I was real religious.Then my husband ... well, he’s not in the picture anymore. An’ I was pretty desperate. I woulda done about anything she tole me to. But she just left it up to me. Mainly I tutor the little waitresses at Mary’s. And I waitress at Miss Kitty’s.”

“I heard you do more than waitress.”

“Oh, now? Sure — but I volunteered to dance. Darlene didn’t pressure me, not at all.” Rosie blushed, “I mean, I knew she wanted Danny Boy Aubert and Denise to fuck me on stage, but she didn’t, you know, tell me to.”

Beverly leaned back, grinning. She made a circle with her thumb and finger. “Is it true what they say about him?”

Rosie used both hands and made a larger circle, “No lie.”

“Come on.”

Rosie held up one finger, and left to get her cell. She felt so tingly walking around in front of Beverly almost naked. She showed her the 45-second clip of Danny Boy and Denise doing her at Miss Kitty’s.

“My God!” Beverly licked her lips. Then spoke directly, “I want you.”

Rosie, her heart fluttering just a little stood up. She said, “Okay,” and peeled off the flap. Beverly licked her lips again, “How much?”

“Um, a hundred?”

“And Darlene gets how much of that?”

“Uh ... fifty?”

Beverly opened her purse, “I stopped by my ATM. Here’s a hundred and fifty — you keep a hundred for yourself.”

“Yes ma’am. Thank you ma’am.”

“How much time do we have?”’

Rosie glanced at the clock, “Over two hours — till, you know, the school bus.”

Beverly took Rosie’s hand, then said, “Oh, wait, don’t you need to set up your camera?”

“Oh, God! Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

In bed, Beverly Dantin was the aggressor. The hungry aggressor. She didn’t learn Rosie’s body as well as Denise had, but she was still able to get her off quickly. Only near the end did she have Rosie go down on her.

Since Chloe had given Rosie so many pussy-licking lessons, she was much better at it these days. But more than that, Rosie was confident — she didn’t stop when Beverly had a strong orgasm.

Later, after they showered, Beverly smiled at Rosie as they finished the wine, “How about I send my boys over one of these mornings? They can cut first period.”

“Um, how old are they? There’s like a law or a rule or something? Eulalie Guidry?”

“I know, I know. Silly policy. But they’re 14 and 15, so that’s cool.”

“Um what would they want? I mean, from me?”

“Oh, just a blowjob.”

“Oh. Well, sure.” Then Rosie thought of something, “At that age, Darlene would want you to be here too.”

Beverly laughed, “Sure, the whole mother/son thing that she had going. Not a problem. Fifty apiece?”

“Okay. But would they be embarrassed? To have their mother watching?”

“Honey, for their first-ever blowjob ... well it won’t be a problem.” She grinned, “And a blowjob from the Flapper Girl? Hell, they’d do it on Main Street for the privilege.”

Rosie giggled.

Beverly nodded toward the bedroom, “When Ray-Ray edits it, can I have a copy?”

“Acourse. Um, who will you show it to?”

“My girlfriends. And my husband when he gets back home. Chet wasn’t at Contrary Mary’s that Sunday morning when I saw you.”

Rosie met with four more women the next day. She had sex with three of them — the fourth balked at being filmed.

She decided — when she started meeting the men — not to have sex, not even blowjobs — until she had a better sense of how the process worked. And, she made an executive decision not to invite any of the men to her home. Women, fine. Kids too — so long as their moms were there.

Rosie dutifully sent Ray-Ray the video clips every day. They weren’t a priority for Darlene, so he’d edit them when he had the time.

By the fourth day of interviews, Rosie’s confidence had grown. The men made it obvious how much they wanted her. Any guy could fuck the Motel Girls, but Darlene only let her dancers blow them.

So Rosie was something of an oddity. In a special place. She was mostly a waitress at Miss Kitty’s, but Darlene occasionally put her up on the stage. So, in theory, guys could take her back to the Blowjob Room. But because she was church-pussy, Darlene limited her to one visit per session.

Yet now, if a guy was on Darlene’s list, he could at least talk with her about fucking. And as Rosie got used to the process, she began to understand how hot a commodity she had become in their minds.

It took her a while to settle on the details, but she knew enough, and was basically kind enough, to strip down to he flap for each interview. She told her friend, Linda Whitestone, “It makes it easier when we start talking about the money part.”

“God, lucky you!”

With Linda, Darlene no longer bothered having her bring the baby to nurse. Linda was now house pussy — anyone could fuck her on stage these days. And, Linda was delighted with the arrangement.

It took Rosie a few days to find her mental equilibrium, and enough confidence, but she hit on a firm price. For the men. Five-hundred dollars to fuck her. Two-hundred for a blowjob.

Unprecedented.

Well, Darlene had sold the Sexiest Mom in Town — Lisa Doucet — for $500, but that was a one-off.

Being a small, gossipy town, word spread like wildfire around Sausalito — yes, you could fuck the Flapper Girl, but holy fuck! Five-hundred dollars!

In fact, only one guy coughed up that much money. And it was Beverly Dantin’s husband, Chet. Beverly actually negotiated the deal, “Honey, we’ll pay you the five-hundred, but he gets to keep you all night.”

Rosie was thrilled. Not about the sex, but about how pleased Darlene would be. Darlene not only didn’t keep half of the payment, she took only fifty bucks for herself.

Had Darlene turned suddenly altruistic? Hardly. But she was delighted with Rosie. Not only was the price of pussy a town-wide topic, but Miss-Kitty customers were now beseeching her to have Rosie dance. And it wasn’t just because one of them might have a chance to take her to the Blowjob Room, it was because church-pussy was now the hottest ticket in town. Well, in some circles. Darlene’s young stuff was still at the top of most fantasy lists.

On her own, as she got her sea legs, Rosie hit upon a new Flapper-Girl formula. She made a major pricing adjustments for her teenage fans. But that wasn’t what delighted Darlene the most.

Rosie had figured out the most important aspect of her interactions with the kids of Sausalito — their mothers. She dropped her blowjob prices for teenagers to an unprecedented ten-dollars. The only stipulation? Mama had to be there.

That requirement, and the bargain-basement price, applied to both boys and girls. At first, only a handful of moms brought their daughters. But as the glowing Flapper-Girl reports flowed around town, more began joining the fun.

Almost without exception, the girls’ mothers were comfortable with their daughters’s nudity. As compared with their sons. So, female participation continued to grow.

With the boys’ mothers, Rosie would casually say, “Guide him into my mouth.”

Most compiled — some a little hesitantly, some blushing, some giggling, a few laughing out loud.

Rosie, her confidence booming, had only tried it three times, but it worked with all three moms. Rather than swallowing, Rosie turned to the startled mother, and began kissing her.

None of the three was turned on, none moaned with pleasure and got into it. But each of the three, blushing deeply, ended up tongue-swirling her son’s cum with Rosie.

The once-spontaneous practice evolved into Rosie’s new policy. She explained to each first-time mama, “Snowball with me, and he can come back for a free encore.” Rosie soon learned to negotiate the snowballing — yes or no — ahead of time. No awkward back-and-forth in front of the boy. No surprising the mom in front of the boy.

Not many went for snowballing, but not everyone turned her down either.

Rosie was learning as she went along. And soon picked up on the fact that the single most important thing was that mama feel comfortable. The blowjob itself had become secondary to Rosie. She now fully understood that Darlene was far more interested in mother/son interactions than the sex acts themselves.

Rosie gave Darlene half of each $10 fee. It was a drop in the bucket to Darlene, but Rosie knew it was the right thing to do. Darlene expected the money, expected each of her girls to share. It was, indeed, the proper thing to do.

As far as sex, Rosie had been an experienced cocksucker for years — her then-husband only had her blowing him several times a week. But since she’d gone to work for Darlene, a few girls like Chloé Bardot had given her lessons. Had taught her how to draw it out, lovingly draw it out. Keep a boy on the edge. Get him quivering with excitement, with need.

Some boys — especially Rosie’s first-timers — were so excited at being with the Flapper Girl, the naked Flapper Girl, that they lasted only a few seconds.

Rosie always — always — reassured the mother, “That happens alla time. But don’t worry, I’ll get him hard again.”

“Thank you.”

And that recovery time was valuable too. Rosie learned to engage the mom in conversation while she fondled the boy. She would waggle his limp penis, “It’s so cute, don’t you think?”

Or, “Wow, he shot more cum than you can believe.”

Darlene’s library was growing rabidly — thanks to Rosie Robinson. Darlene now had dozens of film clips — each with a mom in the background as her naked son was being sucked off. Many of them guided is cock into Rosie’s mouth. A few agreed to snowball.

Of course Darlene had Ray-Ray forward a copy of each Flapper-Girl video to the boy. And to his mother. Darlene had known the boys would share — they were fucking teenagers. But she was pleasantly surprised at how many of the mothers passed along the film clips to their own friends.