Chapter 45: Ray-Ray Fontenot, on his own...

Ray-Ray Fontenot, on his own, decided to up the public awareness of the Calendar Girls. That the 15-year-old didn’t feel the need to clear it with Kate was partly due to his growing self-confidence. But his decision was also based on observing the Castilian sisters.

Kate had turned the Dirty Dozen over to them; Janie and Susie hadn’t hesitated. They just jumped in and took charge. And they were younger than Ray-Ray.

At the next gathering of the Naughty Nudes at Contrary Mary’s, he displayed two stacks of photographs of each girl on a table. Each was 4 X 6 inches. One shot — the relatively demure one — was the same photograph that was posted on the Miss Kitty website. Naked, yes. Showing face, boobs, and pussy, yes. But each picture was restrained, classy, and suitable for hanging in any art gallery in the state. In fact, each girl had a framed and matted copy at home.

The second photo showed each girl playing with herself, at the height of passion, at the moment of orgasm. Her face was contorted in obvious pleasure. Cheeks were flushed with passion; at least one finger was in the pussy. There was no doubt that they’d been captured in the middle of climaxing.

Ray-Ray told the girls, “Carry the pictures with you; I’ll be spreading the word in the schools that you’ll be signing autographs.” He smiled, ‘You can decide which photo to hand out.”

Kate studied the girls with interest. She hadn’t expected any resistance to the boy’s edict. They were already in the habit of doing what he told them to.

She was pleased at their reactions to seeing the explicit photo of themselves for the first time. No shock, no anger, not even any embarrassment. Each girl studied her photo with interest, evaluating her own attractiveness, her own sexiness, and, probably, her own fuckability.

Kate’s eyes lingered over her charges. These were twelve mature women. A little tummy fat here, a slight boob sag there. But, in the months she’d been working with them, they’d been transformed — more confidence, an easy camaraderie with each other. Several were working out, trying to tone up a little. Most importantly, each was more sexually active than she’d been in years.

Kate underscored Ray-Ray’s instructions, “Carry those pictures with you when you’re shopping, at a restaurant, PTA meeting, wherever. You know Sausalito — word will spread like wildfire.”

Ray-Ray added, “And put some pens in your purse; little kids won’t have them handy.”

The girls nodded, taking in the mechanics of distribution. Not at all concerned with questions of propriety. Several, as the idea sank in, were a little turned on by the idea. Of giving out the intimate photos, signing them, knowing they’d be masturbation material for countless boys.

A few days later, Kate told Eulalie, “A few of the girls are already asking Ray-Ray for more copies of their cum pictures. Oh, here’s a sidebar that should please Chase — a surprising number of little girls are asking for autographed photos.”

Before school, during school, and after school, Ray-Ray spread the word. The project was a popular one and the Calendar girls were getting bolder. Signing their names with a flourish, and adding little comments.

“I love to cum!”

“My first cum of the day — but not my last!”

“I screamed right when I climaxed.”

“My pussy was so wet right then!”

As he saw how compliant the Naughty Nudes had become, how they followed his instructions unquestionably, Ray-Ray devised a new exercise for them.

He waited a block from Velma Babin’s house until her kids left for school. Then he drove over, parked his new Vespa in front, and knocked on the door.

The chubby, cheerful Cajun girl was surprised and pleased to see him. “Oh, Ray-Ray, I didn’t know you were coming by.” She stepped back and casually tossed her robe on a chair with a what-do-you-want-me-to-do attitude.

She smiled her brilliant white smile and gestured down her body, “Here I am, cher.”

“Looking good, Velma. Please call three of your friends, invite them over.”

“Sure.”

“I won’t be here, so you guys tape yourselves, tape each other.”

Velma giggled, “And what would we be doing, Mr. Fontenot?”

“Whatever you like.”

“Who should I call?”

“Whoever you like. Send me the videos, and I’ll edit them for you.”

Ray-Ray left, curious about what they would come up with.

It didn’t occur to Velma to question her instructions from the 15-year-old boy. She had been groomed for months and it was now simply second nature to do as she was told.

Likewise, Honey Calhoun, Marie La Fontaine, and Margot Moreau headed to Velma’s as soon as they received her call. The four naked ladies sat around the kitchen table talking about what to do.

Honey, “No specifics, none at all?”

“No ma’am. He just said to do whatever we feel like.”

The discussion centered on the details of this little get-together.

Marie, “He’ll want variety, Ray-Ray. Like, he’ll want to see each of us with everyone else.”

Margo winked, “Slut.”

“Oh yeah, like you’ll be keeping your legs crossed.”

Velma grinned, “Ladies, let’s get it out front — Ray-Ray will expect us to be licking pussy.”

The other three looked at her strangely. Like, why bother stating the obvious?

After more discussion, they started with Marie and Honey making out; Velma and Margot taping with their own cameras. After some initial hesitancy, the kissing couple got into it and gave each other explosive orgasms. Neither one thought it the least bit odd to perform in front of the other two girls.

Then the couples switched roles, with Velma and Margot, already turned on, getting into it even faster.

Next, they did threesomes, with each girl taking her turn behind the camera.

For their directorial finale, they positioned makeshift tripods around Velma’s bed. The four of them laughed and giggled and squirmed around in each other’s arms, becoming lost in the novelty of a mini-orgy. Soon, however, the cameras were forgotten, Ray-Ray wasn’t even a distant memory — the girls were immersed in a slurping, fingering, kissing tangle of bodies and hands and mouths.

It was sexual, absolutely, no question about it. But it was also friendly and generous. The girls made sure that each of them had her share of attention, that each of them climaxed. And came more than once.

Later, still lying in bed, content and satisfied, they held hands, murmured softly, exchanged an occasional kiss, and just enjoyed the quiet cuddling with three close friends.

At one point, Honey Calhoun felt herself stirring, sensed a sensual awakening. Without a thought of embarrassment, she reached down and began touching herself.

Velma whispered, “Aw, baby, let me take care of that little itch.” She lay down, her head between Honey’s thighs. Like they’d rehearsed it, Marie and Margot began licking and sucking her nipples. Honey wasn’t overwhelmed with gratitude; the little episode just felt natural. She needed to cum again; her friends were only too happy to make it happen.

Such was a Monday morning in the lives of the Calendar Girls. Velma had fed breakfast to her husband and kids; Ray-Ray had shown up, and she ended up having over two hours of sex with three of her friends. Two hours interspersed with rest periods, tactical discussions, and delighted laughter at the novelty of their situation.

At school, Ray-Ray had been a little late to first hour, but his teachers were aware of his photography duties and considerate of his erratic schedule.

News of the mini-orgy was soon the topic of the day with the other eight girls. Would Ray-Ray be calling on them? Should they take the initiative on their own? Not one of them questioned her own participation in group sex. The discussion was on the mechanics of the get-togethers. On what Ray-Ray would want from them.

Sex wasn’t always front of mind for the Calendar Girls, but it was close enough to the surface that they were usually ready for action when told. Or, these days, when the mood struck.

At the next Contrary Mary gathering for the Calendar Girls, Ray-Ray had an announcement to make. Lately, the gatherings had been mainly social — a chance for all of them to catch up with each other. An opportunity for Kate to take the group’s temperature. But mostly, it was just an excuse to pass a good time.

Twelve girlfriends, a proud boss, free dinner and drinks.

Darlene, wearing her signature CUNT thong kept the trays of drinks flowing. She wasn’t jealous of the Naughty Nudes, but she did have some envy at all the attention they were drawing, all the fun they were. having.

Kate had told her, “Since Ray-Ray had them start licking pussy, each girl has been with all eleven of the others.” Kate winked, “Ray-Ray has the video evidence.”

Darlene, the 15-year-old mother of a toddler, still got together with a couple of her girlfriends every once in a while. So, she didn’t resent all of the sex the Calendar Girls were enjoying. She just wished she could be more in the mix. Kate had promised her a slot as a Saturday morning dancer when her son was older, but that was years and years away.

Oh well. Darlene had taken some inspiration from the group, and she and her two girlfriends were getting together more and more often. To the increasing irritation of her husband. She had told Kate, “He don’ like the idea, me licking pussy, them girls getting me off.”

Kate smiled understandingly, “Men.”

“Well, fuck him.” She gestured around the room, “I see all the fun them girls are having ... fuck him.”

Around 9 in the evening, when the girls were a little tipsy, Ray-Ray called them to attention. “Okay, ladies, it’s official. We’ll publish the Calendar on New Year’s Day. The printed one and the digital one.”

Cheers around the room.

“Now, who can tell me what day Christmas is on?”

Several shouted out, “Sunday!”

“That’s right. So, Christmas Eve is...?”

“Saturday!”

He let that sink in. Then a couple of girls got it. They whispered, word spread. Three girls laughed out loud, but there were some uncertain smiles too.

“That’s right. And you’re going to be the Christmas Eve presents on the Miss Kitty stage. You’ll be replacing the regular Saturday morning dancers.”

Kate said, “I’m doubling the entrance fee to $20, just for the special occasion. Demand will be so high, I’m limiting it to boys who are 14 and 15. I still expect almost a hundred will show up.”

Velma Babin was grinning widely as she held up her hand, “What are we supposed to do? Up on the stage?”

Kate, “Ask the boss.”

Everyone turned to Ray-Ray. “Evelyn will work with you on the music and a dance number. Short and sweet. Mainly, once you’re naked, you’ll be circulating through the audience.”

Kate, “Flirting shamelessly with the boys.”

Ray-Ray showed a photograph on the flatscreen; the girls hadn’t seen it before. They gasped and laughed and cheered. It had been taken weeks ago at the crack of dawn. They were sitting in chairs in a single row, smiling into the sunshine, in the middle of Main Street.

The Naughty Nudes had their arms around each other’s shoulders and their thighs draped over their neighbor’s legs. Ray-Ray had chosen the most appealing shot from the several dozen he had cranked out.

Each girl had been captured in a flattering light. The group pose was certainly sexy — twelve bald pussies were front and center — but it was almost innocent at the same time. Sensuous, but not sleazy.

Ray-Ray said, “You’ll be autographing these on Saturday morning. Most of the boys will be wanting all twelve signatures.”

Kate, “Ladies, those pictures will become collector’s items. You should all be very proud of yourselves.”

Darlene circulated with more margaritas on the rocks. Most of the girls were grinning, trying to picture the scene. Each of them knew, hell, the entire town knew, that Kate had the Saturday morning boys strip the minute they walked in the back door. And that they masturbated. And that each was issued a cum towel.

Kate said, “Girls, three of you have boys in that age group. I told you from the start that you didn’t have to do anything with your own sons, and that still stands. If you choose to, you can tell them to stay home that morning.” She smiled, “Or not.”

The morning after Ray-Ray’s announcement, the Calendar Girls instinctively felt the urge to talk with each other, to get together, to discuss the Saturday morning news. They called around and gathered in groups of three and four. Attitudes varied from openly excited to cautious to nervous.

While small groups of spectators had watched some of the public photography, this felt different. One, this audience would be stark fucking naked as well. Two, since they would be circulating, it would be more intimate. The police had held back the spectators — no such separation this time.

And, Kate had said she expected around a hundred boys!

Plus, there was an unknown element. Ray-Ray had said Evelyn would work with them on a brief dance number, but would that be it?

Linda Mouton spoke to what many of them were thinking, “Those Saturday morning dancers do a hell of a lot more than dance.”

Sissy Bardot, one of the liveliest of the group, grinned, “They sure do!”

The Calendar Girls, like the town of Sausalito, knew what Sissy meant. Finger-fucking. Licking pussy. On stage. In front of a live audience.

On the plus side, every one of the girls was looking forward to the autograph session. They looked good anyway, and in the shot that Ray-Ray had chosen, they looked their best. He had posed and cropped the picture so there was space between their spread legs for a signature. That part would be fun.

But, when they first came out on the stage — after they had danced and stripped — what did Ray-Ray expect then?

Margot Moreau got a thoughtful expression on her face. “You know, whatever we do that Saturday, Ray-Ray will have time to edit it and put it in that digital calendar.”

A couple of the braver ones saw that as a positive. Several girls nervously flashed on their families. Yet no one, not one single Calendar Girl, thought to ask Ray-Ray not to post the video. By this juncture, they were now programmed to accommodate, not to question.

Part of their submissiveness could be traced to agreeing to this, then that, in small, incremental steps. Not one edict had tripped any major internal alarms.

Another reason, this one also subconscious, was that they were having so much fun with each other. Sexual fun, to be sure, but also a bonding, a sisterhood. Besides, they had been so warmly accepted by the community. They felt they were on a roll, and none of them wanted to break the spell.

Whatever concerns they had, voiced and unspoken, didn’t stop them when they were home from starting to kiss, to gently caressing each other. They never discussed having sex; that was just what they did when they got together at one house or another.

Was climaxing, getting each other off, a form of denial? A way of ignoring that little internal voice fretting about what Ray-Ray might post?

Maybe. But it was also so much fucking fun. They knew each other’s bodies, whims, pleasure points. And the atmosphere was so easy, so reinforcing.

Going down on each other was now almost always a given. Some girls were more enthusiastic, some more talented, but all were generous in making sure their friends got off.

Ever since that first time that Ray-Ray had told Velma to film herself and her three friends — Honey, Marie, and Margot — all twelve girls had gotten into the habit of taping each other. Three of them even bought tripods to mount their cellphone cameras.

And, unbidden, they sent the tapes to Ray-Ray. Like good little girls turning in their homework. As a courtesy, and because it amused him, Ray-Ray edited the tapes and group-shared them. He edited them to shorten the length, to highlight the best of the sex scenes, and to feature the girls in the most flattering ways.