Chapter 3: Best Friends – With Privileges

That afternoon, Thursday, Mamie’s orgasm was, if anything, even stronger than the one she’d experienced the morning before. Anticipating that this might be the case, Cassie had insisted that her sister satisfy her first. Mamie worked hard at the task, stroking and petting and licking, until she was rewarded by Cassie’s more-than-obvious physical pleasure; and then, during her sister’s “feeding,” there was that crashing, all-consuming climax that left her floating in an almost comatose state of bliss. They cuddled and drowsed and napped for an hour in each other’s arms.

Cassie roused her, still snuggling but demanding. “Tell me, sis! Every sloppy little detail! I want to know it all!” And so, Mamie told her, leaving nothing out. It took a while, and Cassie never interrupted, though she looked like she wanted to several times.

“Do you want me to find another source for times when Reggie’s gone?” she asked seriously when the story was complete. “I can’t imagine doing it with somebody that fat. I thought about pulling the plug and going somewhere else as soon as I saw him. And, I could smell the cigarettes on you as soon as we got in the car. Fuckin’ Missouri! The Midwest’s ashtray!” She was obviously referring to Missouri’s anti-smoking laws, which were some of the least restrictive in the country. Municipalities could pass laws, if they wanted; but throughout most of the state, you could still smoke in restaurants and bars. “Anyway,” she continued, “what do you think?”

Mamie couldn’t help running her fingertips over Cassie’s bare breasts and midriff as she thought about how to answer. “I like them. They’re a really odd pair; but then, everybody’s odd in some way. Everybody’s different. I had a girlfriend in college who confided in me once that she liked doing it with really big guys. She didn’t mean the size of their cocks; she meant that she liked them overweight. I could never figure out what she meant, but I know now. Feeling so ... powerless; unable to move, much less to fight or protest. But he was so gentle! A gentle giant, who could crush me if he wanted.

“And Randy was demanding; a short guy that wanted SO much to be taller ... and better than other guys. He has a big ego that desperately needs to be stroked. And when I do, he acts so happy that it melts my heart. We can get past the smoking. Since my day with him is every Thursday, it doesn’t really matter, since I always shower before Reggie gets home from a trip, anyway. But, what do I do if he insists on coming in my mouth?”

“Don’t worry. Trust me, you’ve got them both wrapped around your little finger. Just tell him you WANT him to cum in your pussy, and he’ll be more than happy to comply. Or, suggest you can give him a blowjob as round two. As long as you have an offering for me, it really doesn’t matter where he puts the second one.” She stirred and then got out of bed. “Okay then, we’ll leave things the way they are for now. But you will always give me a full report after every session. Every single one. And if you want to change partners, we’ll do it. Now, let’s explore that exercise room of yours. I want to see your workout, and I need to establish one of my own.” And so, their routine began to take shape.

Reggie worked Monday and Tuesday in the St. Louis office (it was actually in St. Charles, to the west). Then, he would drive to Kansas City to work in the branch there Wednesday afternoon until about noon on Fridays. The KC office was really in Independence, just east of the city; and as a result, there was no big-city traffic to cause delays along I-70. In truth, the three-hour drive was much quicker than flying would have been, after you figured in all the extra time it took to and from airports, getting through security, etcetera. Reggie had bought a condo near the western office.

As long as Mamie could seduce her husband every morning he was home, then Thursdays and Fridays were the only days Cassie was in danger of missing her warlock’s requirements; even though, of course, it all failed to do what he had obviously intended: that she go out to find a cock to suck.

They slept together again that night, then exercised again, since it was normally a morning ritual for Mamie. Cassie was working on her certificate to be a practicing hypnotherapist in Missouri, and so she was doing paperwork that afternoon, and Mamie had to go alone to the repair shop. She didn’t see Randy, and she somehow successfully avoided Ella’s passes, which consisted of teasing hugs and kisses.

Jason had worked hard to prepare for her visit. The room was neat and tidy ... and clean. The books were stacked up all along one wall, but they, too, were neat. And he smelled of Irish Spring soap. She kissed him tenderly in gratitude, and didn’t try to stop him when his passion quickly grew. He hurriedly stripped her out of her clothing, in order to administer probing touches and profoundly more intimate caresses, kisses and licks. Their lovemaking was still clumsy, but substantially better than the day before. And afterward, she had lain atop him, as if he was a big, soft sofa, and she was lounging on him; though he held her and stroked her smooth back while she did so. They talked of books they had read. He told her that he had walked a mile that morning before his shower, and he intended to do it again the next day and every day thereafter. He asked her about diets, and confided that for the first time, he was actually considering sticking to one.

She was rushed when she got home. Cassie demanded details of her time with Jason before she took her daily “fix” from her. Then, she had to shower before fixing dinner for Reggie. He arrived at his normal time, about seven. They chatted about their days apart (each of them having secrets to keep this time), then watched a streaming TV show before going up to bed. When Mamie suggested putting off their lovemaking, he seemed relieved.

And the next morning, she seduced him again, just as she’d done the day he left, and was happy that he reacted enthusiastically. He didn’t question the sudden bouts of intimacy, nor did he complain about her disappearance to visit her sister immediately after their morning coupling. The day was a normal Saturday. She exercised. He had a woodworking project in the garage workshop, and he had to go to the hardware store twice to get things it entailed. Cassie joined them for a streaming TV movie after dinner.

Sunday was to be spent at the country club: a ten o’clock tee time, followed by a poker game that evening. He asked her to join him there for dinner, but she begged off, saying she had plans with Cassie, which was true. He was starting to get used to an intimate encounter each morning; and this time, he took his pleasure atop her, missionary style; then he stroked her to orgasm, which was their custom. After he left, she mounted the stairs to the apartment. Sex twice a day, she mused. Before this past week, she never would have guessed that she’d do something like that, much less look forward to it. Well, she thought, at least things couldn’t get much weirder. But she had no idea how wrong she was about that.

After what had now become their little morning cum-feeding ritual, they returned to the kitchen, where Mamie started to work on a tuna salad for lunch, making too much, so that they could have some later. She wasn’t sure why, but she’d actually been allowed to wear a pair of cutoffs and a tee shirt for this task. Cassie had told her to leave the afternoon and evening free, and though she hadn’t gone into any detail, she seemed nervous and anxious, which made Mamie wonder but not question. When the front doorbell chimed, Cassie shook her head and muttered: “An hour early!” She faced her sister. “Better set another plate for lunch. We have company.”

Ignoring the comment, Mamie went to the door, then stepped back aghast, bumping into her smirking sister. Willow, Reggie’s secretary, was standing on the front porch, wringing her hands in anguish, perspiring and visibly shaking.

“Mrs. Godfrey,” she stammered, apparently trying to recite a prepared statement. “I’d ... just like ... to tell you ... that I had ... no intention of ever...”

“Better get her,” Cassie said behind her. “She’s hyperventilating.”

“No intention ... um ... that ... I’m so sorry! Oh, I’m SO sorry!”

“And thar she goes!” Cassie exclaimed flatly, as the slender woman teetered for a moment and then pitched forward, toppling like a single domino. Mamie lurched toward her, clutching the girl in her arms and lowering her slowly to the floor.

Carefully, sitting on the wood surface of the porch, Mamie moved the girl into a face-up position, resting her head in her lap, and she gently stroked the hair out of her eyes. Willow was still semi-conscious, but her breathing was coming in gasping gulps of air.

“Hey,” she said soothingly, “take it easy. Try to calm down. You’re okay.”

It took a long minute or two, during which Mamie continued cooing little entreaties to relax while she gently stroked Willow’s hair and face. Willow, for her part, looked up at her boss’ wife with a mixture of fear, awe and admiration. Her hands continued to shake a little, but she somehow got her breathing under control and slowly moved away, sitting up.

“Would you both mind sitting there while I go and get my phone?” Cassie asked from the doorway. “This would make an amazing picture!” They turned and looked up at her. “Okay,” she added, holding up her hands, “bad idea. I’m assuming you are Willow. I’m Cassie. And we’re having tuna salad for lunch. Come on in.” She waved a gesture, suggesting they follow, then she walked back toward the kitchen, letting the front door close behind her.

“I ... I had a big speech planned. I rehearsed it all night, after your sister called me. It was full of hollow excuses and stupid justifications.” She was crying softly. “Oh, Mrs. Godfrey, I...”

Mamie reached out and captured the girl’s hand. “You know my first name,” she chided.

“I know EVERYTHING about you! I know your birthday, and all of your sizes and what colors you like. I tell him when it’s your anniversary, and send you flowers and make your dinner reservations. I even know what you like him to do in b...” But she quickly halted and dissolved into bitter tears.

Mamie climbed to her feet and held out her hands to the weeping woman, struggling a little to help her stand, and she put a gentle arm around her slender waist and led her toward the door. “Let’s talk inside.”

She had to be led. At the door, Mamie took her hand and guided her through the foyer and into the kitchen, where Cassie had already set out sandwiches, salads and iced tea. For some reason she had removed one of the chairs around the small kitchen table, and chosen one of the seats herself, making Mamie wonder if she was orchestrating something. So, she and Willow took their seats across from each other.

Willow had stopped crying, and she just sat there for a few minutes, but an awkward silence had settled over them, and the shy girl nervously began nibbling at her sandwich. After a minute, she was eating more vigorously, then cramming the food into her mouth with gusto. When she suddenly became aware that they were staring at her, she sat back, folded her hands in her lap, finished chewing and swallowed. “I ... um ... skipped lunch yesterday, and ... uh ... after you called me and told me to come today, I was too nervous to eat. So ... uh ... I’m very hungry, and this is really good.” She turned to Cassie. “Did you make it?”

Cassie refused to answer, keeping a completely nonchalant expression, but pointed a finger at Mamie.

Willow sighed. “Of course. You’re a great cook, too,” she told Mamie and took a ragged breath. “You’re perfect.”

Mamie grinned in surprise. “Say what?”

“Mistresses are always jealous,” Cassie stated flatly.

“Oh, NO!” the secretary told Cassie, but then turned her attention to Mamie again. “You mustn’t think that! I didn’t say that because of HIM! I don’t really want him! Not really. I said that because it’s true!” She considered a moment. “Well, maybe I’m a little jealous. But more envious, really! You’re so pretty! Your figure and your hair; and oh, God, your boobs! And, you don’t seem to realized it, you just take it all for granted. And, everything you do seems appropriate! You care about people, and they love you for it! Everybody loves you!”

“Whoa,” Cassie breathed. “I liked you better with your mouth full. Why don’t you keep eating?”

Willow blushed, then considered her sandwich. “Do you mind?” she asked Mamie. “This is very good.” She picked it up and took a bite.

Shaking her head in an attempt to unscramble that last little outburst, Mamie asked: “What do you mean you don’t want him?”

Once again, Willow waited until she had swallowed the food. “He belongs to YOU! I never intended for this to happen! But ... I didn’t have the strength to resist. And ... once he’d done it a couple times, I finally realized that it felt ... um ... really, really good. I didn’t know sex would be like that! I mean ... after hearing my Mom talk all my life, I thought I’d be cast directly into hell or something!

“Wait a minute!” Cassie interrupted. “You mean Reggie popped your cherry?”

The girl blinked several times. “What?”

Mamie explained calmly: “With Reggie; was it your first experience with sex?”

She looked down in embarrassment. “Oh ... um ... Yes?”

“How old are you?”

“Twenty?”

“Where the fuck have you BEEN your whole life?” Cassie asked in exasperation.

“Um ... church?”

“What about the rest of the time? Are the boys fuckin’ blind where you went to school?”

The young secretary blinked again. “What?”

“She means that you’re very pretty,” Mamie explained. “The boys in any school must have pursued you, dated you. Where did you go to high school?”

“Our Lady of Perpetual Tears in Ferguson. It’s where I go to church, too.”

Cassie shook her head. “Parochial schools can’t be THAT backward! Shit, I know a girl from a Catholic school that was knocked up at the age of fourteen! And everybody must have been after you! I mean, it’s all I can do to keep from jumping you myself!”

Willow blinked again, slightly more concerned this time. “What?”

“Didn’t you date in school?” Mamie asked.

“No. Mama didn’t let me. She didn’t let me do extracurriculars, either.”

“Holy fuck!” Cassie moaned.

“She ... um ... doesn’t like men very much.”

“Finally! SOMETHING Mama and I have in common!”

Willow stared at Cassie. “What?”

“Cassie prefers the company of women,” Mamie explained.

“Oh. Yes, this is nice;” Willowed said, nodding, and taking another bite, “girls just sitting and talking.”

Cassie broke into laughter, and while Mamie resisted joining in, she couldn’t help smiling. “I meant; she prefers women sexually.”

Willow put the sandwich down. “Oh.” She contemplated that for a moment. “Oh! I’m sorry.” She looked down, nervous. “I mean ... I’m not sorry that you’re a ... um ... I mean, I’m sorry that I didn’t understand about you being a ... um...”

“Lesbian?” Cassie asked distinctly. She had reined in her mirth, and now she was leaning menacingly toward the girl.

Willow seemed to see her out of the corner of her eye and started shying away from her, but then she sat upright again, back straight and eyes lowered, waiting. “Yes,” she said meekly.

“Say it,” Cassie ordered.

“Lesbian,” she muttered breathlessly.

“Have you ever had desires like that?” Cassie asked soothingly. “Have you ever wondered about it? Been curious?”

“NO! Um ... I mean, no. I never have.”

“Eat your food,” Cassie said.

Willow dutifully picked up the last morsel of sandwich and put it in her mouth.

“You always do what you’re told, don’t you?”

She stole a peek at Cassie, but didn’t keep eye contact. “Yes?”

“Why did you come here today?”

Willow reached up and wiped the corner of her eye. “To apologize. To explain.”

“No,” Cassie said firmly. “That’s not why. Try again. Why did you come here today?”

“Because you told me to.”

“Yes. Exactly. It’s important that you tell yourself the truth. You always do what you’re told. You’ve always done what your mother told you, what the nuns at school told you, what your boss tells you, what I tell you. There’s a word for that. Do you know what it is?” She gave Willow enough time to shake her head in mute misery. “It’s called submissiveness. You want to be told what to do. You LIKE to be told what to do. You are very, very submissive. I want to hear you say that.”