Chapter 46: Wealthier Women in Upper Middle-Class...

Wealthier women in upper middle-class towns and suburbs got together for coffee or shopping or bridge during the day. In Sausalito, the blue-collar Calendar Girls now gathered at each other’s home for morning sex. It had become as easy and as natural to them as feeding breakfast to their husbands and children, and seeing them out the door.

Without any discussion, without most of them even being aware of it, ‘Christmas Eve’ had now become a conversational topic whenever they got together for some fun and games.

With Honey’s husband on the road, Velma got in the habit of showing up when they both had gotten their kids off to school. They often had an hour or two before work or chores drew them back to the real world.

They liked lying in Honey and Cliff’s bed, lightly smooching, talking softly, warming each other up. No hurry, no question about why they were in each other’s arms.

As she deep-kissed her friend, Honey lightly fingered Velma’s pussy. First touch, first caress of the morning. Velma moaned softly and moved her head back, “Imagine it’s Christmas Eve.”

“I already am.”

By now, they knew each other’s body, could excite each other slowly, or race to a finish. No hurries, no worries. They luxuriated in their nakedness, in their closeness, in their mutual dispersal of pleasure.

There was something so ... freeing in seeing each other for the first time in the morning. And knowing they were together for one reason and one reason only. To cum. No need to ease into the subject, no need to flirt, to build up to it. Velma had driven straight to Honey’s as soon as she could get away. To cum. As she fixed breakfast for her family, made small talk, she was thinking, _Honey. Pussy. Cuming. Smiling blankly at her husband, vaguely answering her kids’ questions, Cum._

The contrast — the everyday family-scene and Velma’s deliciously naughty thoughts — made her feel even sexier, even more slutty. And she loved it.

Yes, She and Honey were friends. Yes they shared gossip and giggles; yes they took a break for coffee and more gossip. But when Honey, nude, opened the door and Velma strode in ... well it thrilled them both that the game was sex; sex, pure and simple.

The very openness of it made the morning seem naughtier, almost obscene. They smiled at each other as Velma stripped off the only garment she had worn for the drive over.

Hubbies gone, kids gone, two horny women, standing there cunt-to-cunt, relaxed yet tingling with excitement; anxious to cum, but loving the anticipation. Gazing at each other with one mutual goal — to cum — made the morning feel even more carnal.

Velma had felt it building at the breakfast table, growing more intense as she got into her car. Honey had felt it as she tried not to rush her kids out the door. Then, there the two of them, standing, looking, letting the buzz grow before they even embraced.

Honey licked her lips, “Velma, girl, you are so slutty.”

Velma’s voice was husky, “I know, God do I know.”

“You’re all cunt today, aren’t you? Cunt.”

“Honey, I’m about to cum, and you ain’t even touched me.”

Later, after a few minutes of nuzzling in bed, Velma whispered, “Christmas Eve me, baby.”

Honey grinned and licked her way down Velma’s body — nipples, tummy, pussy. As she sucked and licked, Velma groaned, “One hundred boys. One hundred.”

Ray-Ray called the Calendar Girls to an evening meeting at Contrary Mary’s. Kate didn’t bother to attend; it amused her that the twelve grown women had already become so subservient to a 15-year-old boy.

As Darlene, in her CUNT thong, circulated with trays of margaritas, the girls visited easily, comfortable in their nudity. None of them gave a thought to Kate’s absence; Ray-Ray had been directing traffic for months now.

Ray-Ray called them to attention, “Okay, ladies, Christmas Eve.”

They immediately hushed and crowded closer to listen.

“Evelyn will start working with you this Sunday morning. She has a dance routine which features all twelve of you.”

Smiles and nods; they liked the idea of performing together. “The steps are easy — just a few moves before you start stripping. Once you’re naked, Evelyn will teach you some high kicks, like the Rockettes.”

Sissy Bardot grinned, “Cunt City.”

“That’s right, Sissy, that’s what the boys want to see.” He winked, “Early and often.”

Nods all around. Of course.

“Then you’ll pair off and make each other cum. The other ten stay on the stage and take their turns. Sissy, you and Linda will be the first.”

More nods; the two boldest girls, who had already announced that they’d be licking pussy, videos or no videos. Then the news sunk in; that would be a tough act to follow. I mean, once the boys had seen that most intimate of acts, how could the rest of them not deliver?

“Evelyn will spend about an hour with you for three Sundays in a row. But practice at home. With each other — the high kicks are easier with your arms around someone’s shoulders.”

The girls could easily imagine that scene; they’d all seen YouTube videos of the Rockettes.

Honey raised her hand, “Mr. Fontenot, sir, when we finish the dance, and, you know, the rest ... that’s when you have us circulate among all them boys?”

“That’s right.”

“Are we supposed to, you know, um, touch them?”

“Just flirt, Sissy. Tell them how much you love to lick pussy. How hard you just came on the stage. Give ‘em fantasies to take home.”

Then Ray-Ray told Darlene to order the food and to keep the drinks coming. He left to let them talk things over among themselves. As Darlene told him later, the discussion shifted from what they would be expected to do on stage to the mechanics of doing it. Could they have a chair to sit in while being eaten? Or perhaps a bed? But would it need to be slanted so the boys could see everything?’

Darlene said, “Ray-Ray, ever’ one of them girls is gonna be eating pussy. You got ‘em trained.”

True. The Naughty Nudes had gradually, step-by-step, allowed themselves to be pushed further and further. First, by just agreeing to be a Calendar Girl. Posing outside, in public. Climaxing on camera. Getting each other off. Then licking pussy.

Now, whether they had agreed to it individually, each was committed to doing all of the above, on stage, in front of a hundred boys. On video that might or might not be posted for the entire town to see.

Once even the shyest, the most reluctant of them was saying. “I’d be more comfortable getting eaten in a chair than lying down,” the die was cast.

‘Christmas Eve’ had once been a question mark; now it was gospel.

Velma summed it up, “At least when he edits them videos, Ray-Ray makes us look good.” She clarified, “Especially when we cum.”

Nods all around.

As Darlene reported to Ray-Ray, she studied the face of the handsome boy with those soulful brown eyes. She and Ray-Ray were the same age — 15 — but she felt older because she was the mother of a toddler.

Yet, at the same time, she felt younger in a way she didn’t quite understand. Ray-Ray had a quiet, confident way about him. No surprise, not really. He’d been photographing Kate’s dancers for over a year.

And the Dirty Dozen and their sons. And now, the Calendar Girls. Darlene had watched, fascinated, as the girls evolved over time. At first they’d been so shy, so hesitant; even posing in the nude had seemed a huge step to most of them.

But Kate, as Darlene had seen her do with the Dirty Dozen, gentled them along. Then, when they started posing for Ray-Ray, they became more amenable, more used to saying yes.

Now they were to the point of justifying what once would have been unthinkable acts by discussing how sexy they would look in the edited videos.

Darlene said, “Ray-Ray, I listen to them girls talk after you and Kate leave. How many of them you planning to fuck?”

He laughed, “Two, I guess. After the calendar comes out.”

Darlene nodded, “Ez and Honey. All the other girls know about them. But I bet you could nail more of them. Linda and Sissy, for sure. Why don’t you see how many you can fuck?”

“Huh.”

“Ask your mama ‘bout it. Gigi knows them, and I bet she can tell you who to go after next.”

With the exception of adoring Eulalie Guidry, Ray-Ray was more in awe of Gigi Fontenot than anyone else. His mother was a very popular dancer, was the mayor, and was the sexiest woman he knew.

Darlene persisted, “If you set your mind to it, I bet anything you can score pussy or at least a BJ from all twelve of them. Ray-Ray, I hear them ladies talking ‘bout you. Talking ‘bout this,” She patted his prominent bulge.

He was flattered, he was intrigued, he was 15. “Which ones do you think would fuck me? And don’t say everyone.”

“Okay, let’s make a list. Ez and Honey, Linda and Sissy. Oh, Velma Babin, for sure. She’s in love with Honey and what you do to one, you kin do to the other.”

“Huh.”

“Let’s see ... little Sue Ellen Durant. She’s quiet, but she follows you with her eyes. Marie La Fontaine an’ Margot Moreau. Them two ain’t getting it at home. Chrystal Clement? I ain’t too sure ‘bout her. You best ask Gigi — she an’ Chrystal once had a thing. Which was funny, seeing as how Chrystal acted all shy, being with another Calendar Girl. Gigi tole Kate that Chrystal was one pussy-licking cunt.”

“Huh.”

“Ain’t no secrets, Sausalito.”

Ray-Ray went through the proper channels for his next experiment on the Calendar Girls. He asked Kate for permission to approach Sabine Babineaux. And then he asked Sabine if he could talk with Slim Hebert about borrowing her son, CC.

The three women were amused by the idea and Slim readily agreed to it, “You kin have CC for as long as you want, sweetie. Unless me and Sabine need him for something.”

The two boys were the same age — 15 — but the similarities stopped there. Ray-Ray was city; CC was bayou. Ray-Ray had started having some sexual experiences thanks to Kate and his mother, Gigi, but he was a novice compared to CC.

Ray-Ray was a nice-looking boy — everyone, women anyway, — noticed his soulful brown eyes. But CC ... he wasn’t quite as sexy as his mother, but the slim, tan boy with a killer smile was a head-turner. He had an easy confidence about him and a knowing manner around the females that Sabine and Slim pointed him at.

As Ray-Ray had suggested, CC parked his Vespa a block or so from Honey Calhoun’s house, and watched as her kids left for school. Ray-Ray had told him, “Her husband’s a truck driver and he’s gone for a few days.”

Honey opened the front door to his knock and gave CC a tentative smile, “Yes?”

“Ray-Ray sent me.”

“Oh.”

She stared, struck by his youthful aplomb; and his sexiness. She frowned, trying to place him. “Oh. Are you Slim’s boy? Slim Hebert?”

He smiled, “Yes ma’am.”

“Well. Well, come in. I guess.” Honey glanced around the neighborhood; no one seemed to be paying any attention. She clutched her thigh-length robe around her neck. “Did Ray-Ray say ... um, what does he expect ... I mean ... uh, why are you here?”

CC gave her an easy smile, perfectly comfortable in front of a woman he’d just met, “Ray-Ray said you’d know what to do with me.”

Honey blushed deeply; she and CC were thinking the exact same thing. “Uh, want some coffee? I got some fresh?”

“Thank you.”

As she poured two cups, Honey was acutely aware of her nakedness under the thin robe. The shock of the boy’s surprise appearance was fading; her awareness of his sexuality was growing. And so was her realization that she felt a moistness between her thighs.

As she sat across her kitchen table from him, she felt her heart rate accelerate a little. “Did Ray-Ray ... I mean ... does he expect ... uh, did he say any, um, specifics?”

CC leaned back, so relaxed, and smiled, “No ma’am. He said you’d know what to do.”

Honey cleared her throat, “Nothing else?”

Wider smile, “No ma’am.”

In her initial surprise and ongoing discombobulation, it never occurred to Honey to question, let alone take offense, at Ray-Ray’s presumptions about her reaction. Instead, her mind skittered around — kids were at school, Cliff’s on the road, kitchen a typical weekday mess, bed unmade.

Then she glommed onto a practical thought, “Um, CC, I ain’t had my shower yet. Would you mind ... there’s more coffee? Or cereal if you’re hungry?”

“Go right ahead, ma’am.”

“CC, if you’re going to ... I mean given the circumstances ... would you mind calling me Honey?”

He leaned across the table and gently placed his palm on her burning cheek, “It would be my pleasure, Honey.”

She stared at him, entranced with his sheer sex appeal. “Uh, should I ... now? Shower?”

“Yes, you go right ahead.”

Under the water, Honey resisted the urge to call Velma. No question what advice that little firecracker would give her. In fact, maybe she _should_ invite her over. Wait, no. Ray-Ray hadn’t said anything about that. He’d just sent CC Hebert. Focus, Honey, focus.

She turned the shower off and concentrated on the immediate next steps. She sprayed a floral scent in the air and glided through the light mist. She straightened the sheets on the bed, fluffed the pillows. Checked herself in the full-length mirror for the third time.

She squared her shoulders and marched back to the kitchen.

CC stood, smiled appreciatively, and whispered, “Wow.”

Honey relaxed; the scene was now familiar. A horny boy, a naked girl, and the freedom that she had garnered from being a Calendar Girl.

CC was even more spectacular in the nude. Slender and tan and ... golden. So at ease, so self-assured. His cock was nice and fat; not the largest she’d ever seen, but as attractive as the rest of him. It pointed up toward the ceiling, maybe an inch or so off his flat tummy.

He tilted her chin up, and she opened her lips to eagerly meet his tongue. Then he picked her up and easily carried her to the bed. Lay her down gently, and went to work.

Slim hadn’t given him any specific instructions, just, “Show her a good time.”

Young as he was, CC knew enough to take his time, to gauge her reactions to this move and that one. He quickly learned that she liked a lighter touch, but an aggressive tongue. He licked and suctioned her clit, taking his time, confident that he was in control. That she was entirely into it; that he would, indeed, show her a good time.

For Honey, her initial surprise had turned into an uncertain tension, followed by curiosity, then, in the shower, anticipation. She remembered boys back in Laurel and had figured she’d suck CC off first. Get that out of the way, and then maybe he’d last long enough...

Instead, he simply lifted her off her feet, carried her to bed, and took complete charge. Heaven! His pussy-licking was good — not up to Velma’s standards, but talented enough to get her off quickly. Then again. And again.

Soon, CC and Honey were the only two people in her world. She gave herself eagerly, openly, totally. No pretenses, no artifices, just a girl who wanted to cum and cum and cum.

CC, wise beyond his years, wasn’t impatient. He was enjoying taking this woman on a wild rollercoaster ride. He’d fuck her, eventually, but there was no hurry, none at all.

He got into a rhythm and drove Honey to a series of rolling climaxes. Not intense, not overwhelming, but steady, almost unrelenting. She was gasping and sobbing and humping wildly. He sensed a crest building and increased his tongue and finger speed.

Honey’s scream of pleasure came from somewhere deep in her chest and bellowed out into the room, “AIIIIIIEEEEEE!”

She arched and collapsed, her arms limp, tears streaming down her face. She shook her head from side to side as she gasped for breath, ‘Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

But CC wasn’t finished; he inserted another finger in her pussy and eased one up her butt at the same time.

“Wait ... wait.”

CC nibbled at her clit, then sucked hard.

“Oh!”

He brought her slowly along, reaching another plateau, then yet another. She was no longer Honey Calhoun; she was a quivering mass of need and greed and hunger and desperation. She wanted — needed — more, more more.

“He jess knocked on the door, an’ you let him in and fucked him?” Velma pretended to be aghast.

Honey smiled indulgently at her girlfriend, “Yeah, like you’d have turned him away.”

Velma had Honey run through the morning for the third time. Then, “Honey, you should have taped it. For Ray-Ray.”

“Oh fuck! I didn’t even think of that. Fuck!”

“Well, call Ray-Ray, tell him I’ll tape you guys next time.”

“You think there’ll be a next time?”

“Who knows; that’s up to Ray-Ray. But I was you, I’d volunteer.”

“You’re right, you’re right, you’re right.”

Honey called Ray-Ray as soon as school let out, and blathered away. Forgot to tape. Velma will do it next time. Will there be a next time?

Honey listened, then broke into a wide grin, giving Velma a thumbs-up, “Any morning, any morning at all. I’ll text you Cliff’s schedule. Thanks, Ray-Ray, thanks so much.”

From the moment she had opened the door to CC, it had never occurred to Honey to resent Ray-Ray’s presumption that she would give herself to the boy. It had just taken her some time to let the concept sink in.

She didn’t even need to rationalize her infidelity; she could have tried to convince herself that being with CC was no different than being with Velma or one of the other girls.

But the fact was thatRay-Ray had gifted her to CC — and that was that. Not one ounce of resentment from Honey; truth was, she was grateful and would do it again and again and again — as often as Ray-Ray wanted.