Chapter 13: Sabine Was Smart...

Sabine was smart, and she knew it. But she was also self-analytical, and frequently thought about her own shortcomings. She was good at snap decisions and trusted her instincts.

But at some very deep level, she knew that she had to make some changes now that she was working for Eulalie Guidry. For example, she was confident that she could secure young pussy for Mr. Windsor.

That, however, was only a small part of the equation. Eulalie wanted to continue to change the culture of both Sausalito and the Cajun Bayous. She had told Sabine, “I started sexing up Miss Kitty’’s and the school system more as a lark than anything else.” She shrugged, “I was curious how far I could push things.”

Sabine nodded, listening closely.

“Then Chase made me look at the project as ... like from a distance, from a more independent perspective. If I could learn how to get Sausalito mothers to openly compete in a cocksucking contest ... well that knowledge, those disciplines could be applied to other families, other organizations. To our targets, to people we want to separate from their money.”

“I think I see, me. Like your elementary school program. First you got some of them teachers stripping. An’ then tryin’ to beat them other teachers in sucking the most cocks.”

“Exactly right. I wanted those kids talking about sex in the classroom, at the family dinner table. Not just at recess and after school.”

“Is that what people call the long game?”

“It is.” Eulalie winked at her new friend, “Doesn’t mean there can’t be some short-term bonuses.”

“Like young pussy for Mr. Windsor.”

“Like real young pussy for Mr. Windsor.”

It was with that backdrop that Sabine started thinking about what her own long-term contributions could be. She had a germ of an idea, which soon expanded, then grew some more. She thought about asking Eulalie about implementing it, but decided to proceed on her own. Eulalie might well refine it and even improve it, but Sabine had decided that her boss wanted both initiative and action.

She walked down to the City Dock and made a mental note to ask Rémy to help her buy a Vespa like Eulalie’s. She didn’t mind the walk — she’d been doing that all her life — but she was beginning to resent the time it was taking her to move from one place to another.

She piloted her Jon boat toward her former home. It was 8 in the morning and already sticky-hot. Halfway there, Sabine took off her tee, and tossed it to the bottom of the boat.

She wasn’t surprised to see that her mother and Fleur were also in the nude. Eulalie declined chicory, but accepted some sweet tea gratefully.

“Mama, you still happy, being married to Hawk an’ all?”

Magnolia looked astonished, “Acourse I am! What you think?”

“An’ you’re proud of your husband, right?”

Fleur answered for her friend, “Miss Sabine, that ‘bout all Magnolia talks about — Hawk. His cock, how he fucks her mornin’, noon, an’ night. Well, not noontime, ‘cept on weekends.”

Magnolia nodded vigorously, “An’ his cum, Hawk. I always loved the taste, his cum, even before we got married.”

Sabine smiled kindly, “An’ your happiness, Mama, wouldn’t you like other people to understand how lucky you are?”

Puzzled, Magnolia crossed her arms, “Acourse.”

“Good. I set it up with Jonny Leblanc, you gonna give a little talk at school tomorrow. ‘Bout you an’ Hawk, what it feels like bein’ married, you know, share the good times.”

“OH GOD! What do I wear, Fleur?”

“We gotta show off them tits, that’s a start.”

Sabine handed her a pink thong, “This should work, Mama, it goes good with your tan.”

Magnolia looked down at her pussy, “Fleur, you gotta bald me up, right now!”

Sabine watched with amusement as her mother lay back on the kitchen table, her legs hanging over the edge. Fleur was quick and efficient, patted her girlfriend’s pussy, “Perfect.”

Sabine said, “That’ll do it, Mama, no need for a top.”

Magnolia beamed with pleasure.

Sabine was confident that the little show-and-tell would be open, exciting, steamy. But, like Eulalie, she didn’t leave things to chance. She had already made the rounds and planted key questions with some of the students.

Magnolia would be happily talking about Hawk’s beautiful cock, how he learned to play with her clit, how hard she came, what his cum tasted like ... and on and on.

Denise heard Ray-Ray’s little Vespa pull up in her driveway. She opened the front door, pleased but curious. “Hey, Ray-Ray, school isn’t out yet.”

He planted a kiss on her lips and led her inside, “I skipped last period.”

“Oh. Gonna take some more pictures?”

“No, Denise, I got enough for now.”

“Oh. Uh, want some sweet tea? Or something?”

He smiled kindly at her and placed his palm on her cheek. “Pussy.”

“Oh.” She blushed, surprised and pleased at the same time.

“But first a shower.” He started undressing.

She tugged at the hem of her tee, “Should I...?”

“Of course.”

She giggled, “Soap and water clean.”

“Good girl.”

Later, as they dried each other off, she said, “Where do you want me, Ray-Ray? My room? The couch? Outside?”

“I’m going to wait until Danny Boy gets home. So he can tape you getting fucked.”

Denise nodded. “Oh. Okay. Sure, makes sense.”

He turned on the television set, “Let’s watch my favorite little cum slut in action.”

She squealed with delight and clapped her hands. As they sat on the sofa watching a montage of Denise by herself, with Gigi, with Danny Boy, her hand went automatically between her thighs. Ray-Ray smiled; he knew how turned on she got watching herself.

“Should I cum?”

“Denise, you don’t have to ask me. Acourse I want you to cum — you’re so good at it.”

He watched fondly, then said, “Get me off too.”

She was on automatic pilot, already conditioned to obey the boy, “Sure, makes sense. You’ll last longer when you fuck me.”

As she bent down, he said, “Take your time, play with yourself, enjoy it.”

She grinned like a little girl, “That’s what I’m good at, enjoying myself.”

While she licked and stroked and sucked, Ray-Ray realized how much he had come to like the gullible, pliable young widow. Kate had told him, “She’s yours now, have fun.”

It had been his mother’s idea for him to start fucking her. She had told him at breakfast, “Have Danny Boy tape you.” She kissed him on the cheek, “I’ll show it to the girls at work. They don’t believe how obedient she is.”

In town, in any of the four schools, Magnolia’s vividly frank discussion about her sex life with her son would have caused a scandal. And, at least in the elementary schools, it wouldn’t have been a minor tornado that passed through either.

In the Cajun Bayous, while the incident was widely discussed, there was no general alarm raised. It was an interesting item for a day or so. While the women were, indeed, interested in how often Magnolia was getting fucked, there was more chatter about that pink thong — an item of clothing that they had heard about, but had never seen.

Sabine was keenly interested in the kids’ reaction, particularly when the boys got home and looked at their own mothers. Newly equipped with detailed knowledge of the myriad of possibilities.

Sabine’s next stage of the Magnolia Campaign began at the Bayou Bar and Bank.

“Sinéad, I want to host another little party. Free beer for everyone.”

Her Irish brogue, “Of course, sweet darlin’, and who might be the lucky guests?”

“Every mother in the bayous who has at least one son.”

Sinéad didn’t understand, but shrugged, “Let’s see, that would be ... over 200, I would guess.”

“Around there, but of course all of ‘em won’t be able to come.”

“Still, I’ll have to stock up on Dixie.”

“Here’s eight hundred dollars.”

“May the good Lord bless you and keep you.”

Back at her bayou house, Sabine’s instructions to her mother, Fleur, and Jasmine were precise. “At the party, I want you ladies to talk up Mama’s sex life. Jess go ‘round the room, don’ be pushy, be casual. Get ‘em talking among themselves, asking questions.”

Jasmine, with her town experience, and knowing Eulalie, suspected there was some other game being played.

Sabine said, “You’ll wear thongs, the three of you. Then, when the ladies have had a few beers, pass out a new thong for each of them.”

Jasmine, “Like a party favor!”

Magnolia and Fleur looked confused, but Sabine told them, “It’s just a little thank-you present for being good neighbors, for coming to your party.”

Magnolia raised her hand, “You wan’ me to make a speech? Like at school?”

“No, Mama, everyone’s heard about that. But jess go up to little groups of women, specially the ones you don’ know too well. You won’ have any trouble, thinkin’ up somethin’ to say about Hawk, will you?’

“No ma’am, not at all! Say, why don’ we have Hawk at my party? Show him off, that boy?”

Sabine tilted her head, thinking about that, “You know what? That ain’t a bad idea. Maybe I’ll have him show up, late in the day, escort his bride home.”

Fleur said, “What he gonna wear, Miss Sabine? You gotta thong, for Hawk?”

Jasmine, “Why not have him buck fucking naked? Show all them ladies what Magnolia been talking ‘bout?”

Sabine grinned, “Yes!”

Magnolia raised her hand, “You wan’ him to fuck me, Sabine? Be the highlight of the party.”

Sabine laughed, “No, not this time. Maybe later.”

“I don’ mind, me.” She colored, “I mean I don’ wan’ anyone seeing him fuck me, not ordinary. But for a special occasion ... I guess I could put up with it, me.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, Mama.”

Later that night, at Miss Kitty’s, Jasmine smiled at Sabine, “All right, what the fuck’s goin’ on? First at school, and now this party.”

Sabine didn’t hesitate to confide in her mother’s friend. “Eulalie wants to loosen things up even more. Here in town and down in the bayous too. I figure word’s gonna spread ‘bout the party. Celebrating the boy who fucks his own mother, but specially that them Cajun mamas now got ‘em a new thong.”

Jasmine laughed, “An’ you wanna have them modeling that new thong at home.”

“I’m hoping this heat wave continues.”

Jasmine nodded, “You know, we could spread the word — tell ‘em, you wear a thong to school or to the Bayou Bar and you get another free one, any color you want.”

“I love it! How about a free pussy wax too?”

“I kin arrange that, Sabine. Cost a few bucks, but they plenty of girls be happy to tend to those mamas, yes ma’am.”

Twenty minutes later, up on the stage, in the spotlight, Jasmine stopped finger-fucking Sabine and buried her head between the little girl’s thighs. As she licked her best friend’s daughter for the first time ever, Jasmine thought: This little girl is going places.

Sabine was enjoying the sensations, and was feeding off the audience’s enthusiasm. But in a small corner of her mind, she was thinking of those mothers down in the bayous. The incessant heat wave, the urging from their sons, those skimpy thongs. What she hadn’t bothered to share, not even with Jasmine, was that the thongs became completely transparent when wet.

Sabine thrust up to meet Jasmine, “OHHHHHH!”

Eulalie took Lyft from Detroit Metro to East Lansing. She had the driver give her a quick tour of the Michigan State campus. Impressive. Large. Full of students even in the summer.

Gwendolyn Parsons lived in a small cottage, a carriage house, in back of a large mansion. The driveway was almost a hundred yards from the cross street.

At 76, Gwendolyn looked like a female Willie Nelson. Long, gray hair, a wrinkled face that hinted at wisdom, mischief, and ... a well-lived life.

Two pit bulls of a useful size never left her side. The inside of the house smelled vaguely of flowers, dog food, lemon scent, and bourbon.

Gwendolyn tilted her head and squinted at Eulalie, “You’re too old to be his pussy.”

“Yes ma’am. I’m sort of an apprentice. Learning my way.”

“The next Lacy Danube?”

“I’m a long from there.”

Gwendolyn led the way to the back, to a sun-dappled greenhouse room filled with huge ferns and shrubs and lush plants that Eulalie couldn’t identify. Gwendolyn said, “Lie down, Fifi, lie down, Pansy.”

The two dogs never took their unblinking eyes off Eulalie.

“I bet you don’t have many problems with intruders.”

“If I told them to S-I-T, they’d rip your balls off.”

Two sets of pricked ears twitched.

“Now, what are you and Chase up to with this LOST project?”

Eulalie explained about the genesis, about Cassidy Townsend and her silly quest to win the silly Golden Pussy award.

Gwendolyn looked at Eulalie for a long moment. “And Chase wants to see if there’s a payday there. Somehow. Somewhere.”

“I want to see, it’s my project.”

“Very well. I studied the site; LOST has some decent writers and your three are very good amateurs. One of them even has some promise.”

“How do I get to them? They responded to me, but it was just ... polite. As you saw.”

“First don’t think of them as monolithic, as a trio. Second, leave all future correspondence to me. I’ll address them individually because they have different personalities, passions, and, we hope, secrets.”

“Okay.”

“But I won’t start any direct contact with them until I’ve posted a few chapters. Have earned some good reader scores. Established some creds.”

“Got it.”

“One assumption you should make is this — they’ve been members of LOST for over ten years. They’re part of the elite cadre of authors. It’s inconceivable that they don’t communicate with each other, at least a little. So, once I engage them, engage them individually, they’ll probably gossip about me with each other.”

Eulalie thought about that. Nodded, “Could be a plus, a good thing for us. So, what’s LuLu’s story going to be about? Besides sex?”

“My first story will shape-shift as I learn more about the targets. Basic premise — a savvy young woman gradually — gradually — falls for an older gentleman. He doesn’t seduce her; she isn’t a silly little nitwit. It isn’t a meet-cute romcom. The gentleman is sophisticated, discerning, wary — even a little suspicious — of a budding friendship with a woman so much younger.”

“And we’re off.”

“I’ll copy you on all things LOST. But this isn’t a rush project; I’ll reel them in slowly.”

“Gwendolyn, do you know Sheila Banks?”

“Chase’s tech guru. I worked with her ... oh, ten or twelve years ago. She was just a teenager then. Are you bringing her in too?”

“I’d like to, if it’s alright with you. She’ll do a parallel dig — a technology investigation into the three. To complement your social engineering program.”

“Makes sense.”

Eulalie Guidry had joined LOST as Belinda Bennet. Whose pen name was LuLu Sheets. LuLu — now Gwendolyn Parsons — would write a sex story, maybe two, and draw the three target authors into digital relationships. Working behind the scenes, Sheila Banks would sort through the layers of camouflage and try to identify Carl Moonbeam, Mickey Luck, and G Older.

Information. Leverage. Payday. Maybe.

Sabine had decided to go all out for the Bayou Bar & Bank party. The next step in her Magnolia Campaign. She arranged for Annie’s Diner to deliver 300 po’ boy sandwiches. She knew word would spread — free beer and free food!

Sabine told Sinéad, “Keep the sandwiches covered with butcher paper until the ladies have had a beer or two.” Even though moonshine was prevalent in the Cajun Bayous, she wanted the guests to feel a little buzz early on.

It was puzzling why the invitees were limited to women who had at least one son living at home. But ... free beer and food.

Sabine had scheduled the party to begin at 10 on a Monday morning. The kids would be in school, husbands, boyfriends, brothers, cousins would be at work. She was pleased — the temperature was already at 95 degrees. She wore a knee-length tee; she didn’t want to distract attention from her three hostesses.