Chapter 20: Jill Moreau Found Ginny Dumont’s House...

Jill Moreau found Ginny Dumont’s house easily enough. It was at the southern edge of Sausalito, down by the City Dock. A small bungalow, freshly painted, two bedrooms. Jill saw Ray-Ray’s Vespa parked in front, beside a neatly trimmed lawn.

He opened the door, smiling, poised and at ease, “Hi there, Jill, we been waiting for you. This is Ginny, Ginny, Jill.”

Jill was momentarily startled, the handsome woman was already nude. But, this was a Miss Kitty’s photo shoot, so...

Ray-Ray assumed the role of a host, “Ginny, pour some coffee; I’m going to check out your backyard, figure out where to pose you.”

“Sure, Ray-Ray.”

In the kitchen, Ginny went right to it, “I tole Kate I needed the money, and I do.” She smiled, standing there in the slanting sunlight, “But I wanted to do it anyway, to get up there on that stage.”

Jill smiled back at the straightforward woman. Tall for a Cajun girl, with wide shoulders, and full boobs, bigger than grapefruits. She continued, “I look good, for you know, 40. An’ I been bored out of my skull since Billy left.”

“Oh. Uh, what about your kids?”

“Two boys, 14 and 16.” Shrug, “A difficult age, especially with their daddy gone. But I sat ‘em down, tole ‘em about my new job.”

“How’d they take it?”

Another shrug, “Mixed, I would say. Ronnie, my 16-year old is ... um, kinda mortified. He wasn’t going to go to the show on Saturday. But I explained about Kate, about her policy. So, kicking and screaming...”

“That’s rough.”

“Yeah, but it is what it is. At least Tommy ain’t all that upset. I think he’s even lookin’ forward to it.”

“That’s a help.”

“Yep. Kate tole me that Ronnie will come around. Especially when she lets me start waitressing, Miss Kitty’s.”

“I hope it works out for you.” And Jill did hope that. She liked the no-nonsense woman. A wife and mother facing the realities of her life head-on.

Out in the backyard, Jill was fascinated by Ray-Ray’s confidence, his professionalism. He posed Ginny standing, sitting, lying down on three fat cushions.

He sat her on the end of a wooden picnic table, after checking for splinters. “Okay, I’m going to tape you now. Reach down and make yourself cum.”

No hesitation, “Sure, Ray-Ray.”

As she watched Ginny masturbate in the bright sunshine, Jill felt some moisture between her own legs. It was strangely erotic to her. A wife and mother, in her own backyard filled with toys and a couple of bikes, casually finger-fucking herself for the camera. The domestic environment somehow made it seem even more erotic. Jill was surprised that she was turned on.

After Ginny climaxed, Ray-Ray turned to Jill, “Why don’t you undress too? I’ll do a nude portrait of you. Very tasteful.”

“What! Me?”

Ginny smiled, “Why not? Look at your cute little rack.”

Jill’s immediate and instinctive reaction was negative. Yet...

“Um, I dunno, Ray-Ray. I’m mean I’m not a ... I’m just a...”

“You know you want to.”

Jill thought: I’m 38 years old. I can do it if I want to. Fuck it. Something to tell Sally about.

A minute later, Ray-Ray and Ginny were appraising her. Small, just under 5-feet. Perky little boobs, flat tummy, tiny pussy. She was paler than most Cajun girls, and purposely didn’t sunbathe. She felt both calm and a little aroused from their frank scrutiny.

Ray-Ray touched one erect nipple, then the other. He reached into his photographer’s bag and brought out a small, round compact. He dabbed a little color on each nipple, stepped back, nodded to himself.

He posed her standing there with her hands clasped behind her butt. “Move your legs a little further apart. Good girl.”

After several shots, he scrolled through, “Here, this one is the best.”

Ginny crowded next to her and nodded, “Girl, you should be up there on that stage.”

Just what Kate had told her. Jill was pleased. Pleased with how she looked — trim and in good shape. Ray-Ray, as he had done with Ginny, and probably dozens of other dancers, had captured her in a flattering light. Somehow he had made the shot both tasteful and sexy.

He cupped Jill’s chin and said, “I’ll send this to your not-so-secret admirer.”

She gave an involuntary gasp, “Danny Boy?”

“Danny Boy.”

Jill felt the blush creeping from her cheeks, down her neck, to her chest.

Ray-Ray pretended to frown. He patted her pubic area, “It would be even sexier if your little pussy was bald.”

Jill looked down. Looked over at Ginny. Who nodded, “He’s right, you know.”

Ray-Ray said, “Look, run over to Wendy’s. I’ll wait here and shoot the new you.”

“You’ll wait for me?” Jill was suddenly anxious to make it happen.

Ginny said, “I could wax her for you, Ray-Ray.”

“Thanks, but I want it done professionally.”

Jill, “You’ll wait right here?”

“Yep. I was gonna get a blowjob anyway, so there’s no hurry.”

Ginny laughed, “You’re pretty sure of yourself, Mr. Fontenot.”

They were still bantering back and forth when Jill hurriedly dressed and rushed around to her car out in front. Danny Boy. Good God.

Betty LaRue’s stage debut came at 8 on an unusually cloudy Saturday morning. She wasn’t superstitious and didn’t view it as an omen. Instead, she found herself relatively calm, all things considered.

In the dressing room, Kate introduced Betty to the young woman who would be her dance partner. Well dance and a whole lot more. Kim Romero was a recent transplant to Sausalito, and couldn’t believe her luck in landing the gig so quickly.

Kate had hired her on the spot because the young woman was so tiny. Petite didn’t cover it. Kim was three inches under five-feet, and didn’t weigh more than 80 pounds, if that. Her tits were just bumps on her chest, but she was shapely with a tucked-in waist and a nice butt.

Kim, even though she had a 15-year old son named Paul, looked like she was 10 or 11. And, she played into it, using artful makeup and a little-girl voice.

Kate liked the physical contrast between the two women — Kim barely came up to Betty’s tits. Kate also liked that the two girls were meeting for the very first time that morning. Neither one seemed particularly perturbed that they’d soon be having sex with a stranger.

Betty LaRoux was turning out to be a straight-ahead woman with her eye on becoming a dancer at Miss Kitty’s. Kim Romero was a stone-cold exhibitionist. She gloried in her petite body, thought it a gift from God, and exalted in driving men wild with lust.

And, if the gossips were accurate, boys as well. Kate didn’t follow up on the rumors that the young woman had quietly been asked to leave her teaching position in Lafayette, Louisiana.

As for Kim, she absolutely understood her own particular allure. Many men saw in her their very own daughters, about whom they’d been having some not-so-innocent fantasies. Grandfathers too, where taboo mental images of young family members were often even more lurid.

In the dressing room, Kate and a couple of other dancers examined Kim frankly. Kate shook her head in amazement, “The only other pussy I’ve seen that was this tiny was Eulalie Guidry, and she was one in a million.”

During the only interview Kate bothered to have with Kim, she explained the Saturday morning show — “Dancing, even stripping, is the least important thing you’ll do. That’s merely a setup. I want you and Betty to put on a sex show that leaves nothing to the imagination. This isn’t the Dance of the Seven Veils, this is finger-fucking and pussy-licking.”

Kim, hugged herself in delight, “An’ there really be 50 naked boys out there, come to see me?”

“At least that many. And of course your son.”

Kim shrugged, “Paul. Well, I always liked boys looking at me.” She was quick to correct any misconceptions, “Not every day, but I do like to give him a peek ever’ now and then.”

Betty looked at the tiny woman and thought: Well, she’s ahead of me there.

As Jill hurried back from Wendy’s Salon to Ginny Dumont’s house, she was thinking rationally despite the lingering buzz of excitement. She wasn’t caught up in the moment, she wasn’t lost in passion. She had a newly-bald pussy and she wanted to be photographed. But more, much more important, she found herself eager for Ray-Ray to send it to Danny Boy Aubert.

She understood that this was the gutsiest thing she’d done since her wedding day. Harold popped into her mind. I don’t care; I just fucking don’t care.

Jill checked around back, but Ray-Ray and Ginny had gone inside. She let herself in the back door just as they were coming out of the shower. Ray-Ray was completely at ease in his nudity. Jill noted his flaccid state and figured that Ginny had, indeed, blown him.

He gestured at Jill. She quickly stripped off her skirt and blouse, her panties, and stood there for his approval. He ran two fingers over her pussy, “Nice. Check it out, Ginny.”

She used just her middle finger, running it gently up and down several times. “Smooth as a baby’s butt.”

Jill wasn’t sure why, but as they stroked her she felt proud.

Out in the back again, Ray-Ray said, “Play with yourself, honey. Try not to cum until I tell you to.”

Jill listened carefully, nodded, “Okay.” She was concentrating on the instructions, not the audacity of the act.

“I’ll take several stills, but I’ll be taping you when you cum.”

She nodded again, “Got it.”

“Lose the frown and smile for Danny Boy.”

The two newest dancers — Betty LeRoux and Kim Romero — made quite a contrast even though they were dressed identically. Each wore a pink baseball cap and a matching bandana for a bra that was tied in front. A tiny thong and high heels completed the pink ensemble.

But Betty, a little over average height, towered over the petite Kim. Betty’s attitude wasn’t grim — it was more: I’m here, I’d gonna do it, I’ll be okay. No, I’ll be fine. In addition, she wasn’t all that worried about Tee-Jack either. He’ll probably be fine; if not, I’ll get him through it.

On the other hand, Kim was almost giddy with excitement. She loved to be seen, admired, lusted over. She couldn’t wait. Her son? Paul wasn’t even a consideration. From the dressing room, she could hear the excited audience chatter — hoots and laughter and kidding. Kim shivered in anticipation 50 naked fucking boys!

Evelyn started the first song — Bumps & Grinds by Sonny Lester — their signal to take the stage. Just as they were leaving the dressing room, Kim giggling to herself, Kate spoke into Betty’s ear, “Suck Tee-Jack off.”

Betty felt her tummy lurch, but Kim was already tugging her hand.

The performance had been roughly choreographed by Evelyn, “Hold hands, dance your way around the perimeter of the stage. Start stripping for your second tour.”

After that ... sex.

It was an astonishing sight — over 50 naked teenage boys in the brightly lit audience area surrounding the stage. The roars intensified as the girls made their way in tempo to the music. Betty noticed the two folding chairs in one corner. For Tee-Jack and Paul.

Kim didn’t make it halfway around before she slid her thong down and tossed the bandana into the crowd of cheering boys. Moments later she kicked off her heels and threw away her cap. She was laughing wildly, excited and carefree.

Betty mentally shrugged and undid her top. Kim had abandoned her to dance and twirl and giggle her way around by herself. As Betty dropped her bandana, still keeping time to the beat, she spotted Tee-Jack — front row, in the corner by the chairs.

Even in all of her excitement, Betty searched his face. She needn’t have worried — he had a huge grin plastered on his face and he gave her a V-sign with his left hand. His right was otherwise occupied.

Kate Broussard saw that the performance had gone off the rails in under a minute. It was like they were putting on two different shows. But she didn’t mind in the least — Kim was already a smash hit with her little-girl body and her exuberant ways.

Betty was showing no signs of nervousness, of embarrassment — she looked like a trouper. Kate nodded at Evelyn, and mouthed “Tee-Jack.”

Evelyn turned down the music and announced, “Tee-Jack LeRoux, Tee-Jack LeRoux, report to the stage. I repeat, report to the stage.”

The lad was understandably puzzled and looked up to his mother. Betty gestured to the metal chair, smiled, held out her hand, and said, “C’mon up, honey, it’s okay.”

The crowd of boys drew quiet — this was new, this was unprecedented. Several of Tee-Jack’s friends had been super excited at the prospect of seeing Betty naked, and they worked their way to the front of the crowd.

Surprisingly, perhaps amazingly, Tee-Jack didn’t lose his erection. His four inch penis poked straight out from his tummy, a perfect horizontal. Betty hadn’t even thought of performance anxiety and was instantly relieved. Kate had given her her last-minute marching orders and Betty decided to follow through then and there. Before Tee-Jack went soft or shot off in excitement. Before she herself chickened out. No, she wasn’t about to miss this Miss Kitty’s opportunity.

She stood directly in front of him and slowly, teasingly, lowered her thong. He was mesmerized, staring at her puffy pussy lips, up to her face, back down. Betty wasn’t aware of it — she was so focused on her assignment — but the crowd noise had risen to a roar again.

She knelt between Tee-Jack’s legs and circled his little erection with her hand. The head and another half inch or so peeked out. She winked at him and bent down to lick, but the bill of her cap poked him in the tummy.

“Oops!” She turned the cap backward and left it at a jaunty angle. Kate smiled in approval.

As Betty took him in her mouth, Tee-Jack expelled the breath he’d been holding. He whispered, “Oh, Mama.”

Betty, some distant stage-instinct kicking in, moved her hands behind her back, giving those with the right angles a clearer view. A few seconds later she moved her head back so everyone could see as he spurted and spurted and spurted into her mouth. A far-off internal voice muttered to Betty, “That was a fuck-load more than a teaspoon.”

As Betty licked him clean, hands still behind her back, Tee-Jack said, “Should I stay here?”

“Yeah, baby, sit back and enjoy the show.” Even though she had no clear idea what the rest of the performance would look like. She smiled fondly at him, and had to giggle — he had retained his erection.

Evelyn lowered the music once more — Walkin’ & Strippin’ again by Sonny Lester. “Paul Romero, Paul Romero, report to the stage.”

Paul, a boy about Tee-Jack’s height — that is, normal — slowly climbed up. He couldn’t have been too surprised once he’d seen Tee-Jack. Betty evaluated him at a glance. He wasn’t mortified; as Kim had said, he’d seen his mother nude on occasion. But he had that new-boy-in-town look. That no-friends demeanor.

Betty said, “Tee-Jack, introduce yourself.”

He stood and reached out his hand. For some reason, several in the crowd gave loud wolf-whistles as the two naked boys, hard-ons pointed at each other, nodded solemnly and shook hands.

Betty looked around for Kim. She was in the opposite corner, balanced back on her hands and feet, hips in the air, humping in time to Stripper Bowl courtesy of Migos.

Betty, now feeling like she was the only adult on the stage, bopped over and sat cross-legged between Kim’s thighs. Betty was flushed with excitement, with a sense of accomplishment, with the knowledge that the crowd and Kate had to be delighted with her.

She placed her hands under Kim’s butt, bent forward, and started licking her pussy. It had been years and years, but the taste and sensation were instantly familiar.

Tee-Jack and Paul, still chatting shyly, craned around to get a better view of their mothers in action.

Betty easily got Kim off, then again. She stood up, looked around, getting her bearings. Kim immediately scampered off to another section to flash it all to even more enthusiastic kids.

Betty took a self-inventory, and decided she was now in charge. It was up to her to finish the show. She walked back to Tee-Jack and Paul, sat down cross-legged between the still-standing boys. Her sense of control, of showmanship, blocked out most of the crowd noise.

Betty went back and forth, licking and sucking. She was feeling, for the first time that morning, some excitement building, a tingle. Without having a conscious thought, she scooted the boys together, taking both cocks in her mouth. As she swirled her tongue around them, she thought: God, I haven’t done this since middle school. She almost giggled at the memories. Back at John Lee Hooker, she had let herself be talked into a double-blow job by a couple of seniors. Word soon spread and she had had a very popular year.

Paul hadn’t made a sound, but Betty sensed it, and drew back for the visuals. As she took in his load, she thought: Not as much as Tee-Jack, not nearly as much. Seconds later, Tee-Jack said, “I’m gonna cum, Mama, I’m gonna cum!”

Betty made one more tour around the stage, grabbed Kim by the hand, and made her exit, still wearing the backward baseball cap and matching pink heels.

Two days later, reporting as instructed to WZYD, Betty already knew how she would handle the Shannon Says interview.