Chapter 48: The Three of Them...

The three of them took two Vespas down to the City Dock. Honey rode behind Slim, cupping her small boobs as she hugged the sexy woman.

As CC started to help Honey into the Jon boat, Slim said, “Strip first.”

Honey looked around, saw two fishermen loading a cooler into their own boat. “Of course.”

She took off the same dress and panties that she’d worn to the Firefly House. Slim and CC also stripped. As they pulled away, the breeze from the motion of the boat helped a little, but it was already over 100 degrees a little before 8 in the morning. The three of them were dripping sweat as CC expertly steered around grass hummocks, submerged cypress stumps, spits of land. He drove past small houses, the Bayou Bar and Bank, boys out fishing, girls gathering eggs, hanging laundry on lines. Most of the people that Slim and CC waved to were naked or wore only panties.

Despite her blonde hair and pale skin, Honey felt comfortable enough seeing and being seen. Being with Slim was like being with Cajun royalty, the way people waved and whistled and cheered.

Honey, like a lot of Sausalito residents, had never ventured into the Cajun Bayous. It was beautiful and steamy and foreign to the Laurel, Mississippi native. She had no idea where they were headed, but was more than content to follow Slim’s lead.

And, as she had learned the previous night, it was indeed Slim who was dominant over CC. The boy was obviously in awe of her — he had enjoyed Honey thoroughly, but it was Slim he kept glancing at, deferring to, in bed.

To Honey’s minor disappointment, Slim hadn’t fucked him. But Honey was still convinced that she sometimes did. In any case, it was a blistering hot Tuesday morning and Slim was leading her to some remote, mysterious adventure.

Honey felt quite comfortable in not knowing what lay ahead; in putting her fate squarely in Slim’s hands. Cliff was on the road, the kids were in school, she was Slim’s slut. Simple as that.

The further south CC drove, the more isolated it became. It had been 20 minutes or so since they’d seen a house or even another Jon boat. Three naked people — two bronzed and a pale-skinned blonde — out on the open water.

Honey felt almost dizzy in the heat, but not at all worried. Both last night and at breakfast, Slim had referred to her as _my slut. Not our slut, not hers and CC’s slut, but my_ slut.

A small verbal distinction, but one that meant the world to Honey.

Throughout the ride, which lasted over an hour, Slim continued to slather Honey with sunblock. Slim sat behind her and applied the lotion generously, not missing an inch. Every once in a while she casually slid a finger inside Honey’s pussy and told her, “Cum for me.”

“Of course.” Honey loved being objectified, being used, being told what to do.

Eventually, Honey sensed that CC had slowed the boat down. She shaded her eyes and saw a spit of land — no, a tiny island with a large fishing boat docked at a little wooden pier. Honey had no idea who, or what, awaited her, but she was willing to ... no, eager to find out what Slim was going to do with her now.

It was an amazing sight. As CC helped her climb onto the deck in front of a sloping ramshackle house, Honey saw a naked woman and three naked boys. They were tanned almost black, as if they lived their entire lives in the sun.

Slim said, “Honey, this here’s Celine Boudreaux and her boys. Celine, this here’s Honey Calhoun.”

Honey, still dazed from the sun, and now the sight of the naked family, shook the woman’s calloused hand, “Hello.”

Celine tilted her head, checking Honey out from tip to toe. She turned to Slim, “So this is your slut.”

“Surely is.”

“Appreciate it, Slim. They ain’t had any pussy for ... oh, weeks and weeks.”

Honey stood there placidly; she had understood her role as soon as she spotted the three erect teenagers. In the Farmers Market Slim had told her that CC might share her with his buddies. In fact, it was Slim who was gifting her to this woman. Fine.

Slim said, “Where you want her, Celine?”

“The boys’ room; we set up extra fans — it’s a little cooler in there.”

Inside the kitchen, the Boudreaux boys hustled around, serving iced tea to everyone. Honey, like the others, gulped it down and accepted refills gratefully. The house, at the very edge of the Cajun Bayous, was too isolated to receive WZYD, but Honey didn’t notice the absence; she’d never been in another Cajun Bayou home.

Celine patted her on the butt, “Where you find this one, Slim? She ain’t from the bayous.”

“No, she’s a Yankee. CC found her, knew I’d like her.” She shrugged; that was the story in a nutshell. CC had fucked Honey and given her to his mother.

Honey nodded; nothing to argue with there.

The six of them — two Cajun mothers and their four obviously horny sons — examined Honey curiously. Interested in how she felt, what she expected, how she was reacting to be being the center of attention.

Honey felt strangely relaxed. Once, in the Studio, she’d been with both CC and Alain. But never with four boys. However, knowing that Slim was behind this, that Slim was the driving force ... that was enough to calm her nerves.

One of the boys poured more iced tea all around, then he joined the other three boys leaning casually against a kitchen counter. Honey gazed at them openly, evaluating them, their equipment, their casual attitude.

CC was a given, a known quantity. Honey somehow knew that the three Boudreaux boys would be copies of each other in bed. Except for slight variances in height, they looked like triplets. So tan, so slender. Their cocks stood at attention —about half-way between horizontal and vertical. Their balls, like CC’s, hung way down and swayed as they moved.

Slim spoke casually, ‘It’s time.”

Celine led the little procession into the bedroom. Honey noted: one bed for three boys. Huh. Slim set up two cameras on tripods; obviously not her first time in this room. Huh.

Celine sprinkled the sheets with a watering can, then did Honey, then her sons and CC. Slim lay Honey on her back. Celine briskly lubricated her sons, one after the other. Then, almost as an afterthought, did CC as well.

Slim beamed, “Thank you, Celine.”

The woman shrugged, “I figure if she’s yours, she can handle four.”

“We’ll see, we’ll see.”

Celine glanced at the tallest of her sons. Honey never did learn any of their names. The oldest boy lowered himself between her legs and smiled at the guest, “Thank you, Miss Slim.”

“You’re welcome, baby, enjoy.”

As eager as the Boudreaux boys were, each took his time entering her. And they had been well coached. Each gave her clit plenty of attention from the first fuck on.

The boys waiting for their turns, lavished her with caresses, nipple sucks, deep kisses. But Honey was always aware of Slim — in the background, watching, directing the action.

The four boys moved Honey from position to position as Slim dictated. Honey was fascinated by the room dynamics. The boys weren’t frantic, didn’t hump wildly and cum. Each of them took his time, obviously enjoying her body, but drawing it out, making it last.

Slim and Celine sat-by-side, sipping drinks, like they were watching television. Except they were lightly fingering themselves, treating themselves to a light orgasm every once in a while.

Occasionally Celine used her watering can to cool down Honey and the boys, but the sweat-soaked bed was soon as squishy as Honey’s pussy.

After all four had cum the first time, Slim said, “Butt-fuck her now, CC, then roll on your back so the others can do her at the same time.”

“Okay Mama!”

Honey entered a sort of trance-like stage. The room had grown even hotter as the sun rose. The boys were relentless, polite, considerate, but it was never more than a few seconds before the next erect cock entered her.

Slim watched placidly from the sidelines, watching boy after boy pound Honey, studying her slut’s face, curious, evaluating, enjoying.

When Honey woke up, she knew instantly where she was. The bayous. Celine Boudreaux’s house. The boys’ bedroom. That sodden bed. But where was Slim? And the others?

She got slowly to her feet, but didn’t feel dizzy. Just burning up in the heat. Her pussy and butt were sore, but pleasantly so. She walked, a little unsteadily, out to the kitchen, out onto the deck.

There they were, two still-naked women, four naked boys under a faded green canvas awning. They were sipping more iced tea, which Honey would soon learn, was laced with moonshine.

The Boudreaux boys and CC stood politely, “Hi, Honey.” “Hullo, Honey.”

She shaded her eyes, taking in the scene, evaluating how she felt. Hot and thirsty and more in need of a shower than ever.

Slim said, “CC,” and he led her over to an outside shower next to the chairs.

The cold water hit her like a shock wave; she squealed and jumped, her heart pounding. CC gentled her down, turning her around and around as her body adjusted to the sudden temperature change.

A couple of minutes later, she was still shivering slightly, he led her to a tilted chaise lounge which one of the boys sprinkled generously from the watering can.

She plopped down gratefully, cooler now, but drying off rapidly in the hot air. Celine leaned in and curiously examined Honey’s pussy. She ran a fingertip up and down the outer lips. She smiled at Slim, “A little red, but she’s got sensitive skin, your Yankee.”

Honey opened her thighs, and Celine slid her middle finger in and swirled it around. She winked at Slim, “Still squishy.”

Honey just lay back in the shade, sipping her drink, completely open to the intimate inspection. The Boudreaux boys, watching their mother closely, stirred, and grew erect. The tallest one said, “Kin we have her again, Celine?”

She glanced at him disdainfully, and Honey could see him blush at the faux pas even through his dark tan. “Sorry, Celine.” He turned to Slim, “Can we have another turn, Miss Slim?”

Honey was mildly curious herself.

Slim said, “No, she’s had enough for today. Sorry boys.”

Celine said, “You know what to do.”

Honey watched with growing wonder as the Boudreaux boys and CC bent down and began sucking each other. Neither Slim nor Celine paid them much attention.

Back at home, in her shower, listening to the faint sounds of her children coming home from school, Honey took inventory. She was still a little sore, front and back, but nothing serious. Mainly, she was evaluating how she felt. About the day, about getting gang-banged, about herself.

Even before she passed out, she had lost track of how many times they had shot off in her. She assumed that Slim allowed whoever was fucking her at the time to finish in her. Or, perhaps, all four just kept fucking her. It wouldn’t have made much difference at that point.

She had also lost track of her own orgasms. There had been several, but Honey had never been as excited as when Slim and CC had her to themselves.

Still, what an adventure!

As the cool water sluiced over her, she thought back over the past few months. Kate. The Calendar Girls. Getting each other off. Velma. Then the pussy-licking phase, which was still ongoing.

Then, CC Hebert. Her first time being unfaithful to Cliff since they’d moved down to Sausalito. She didn’t consider being with another girl to be cheating, not even Velma. Those were just larky romps.

And then that morning when Alain Allard opened the door to the Studio. Since he had already fucked Velma, Honey not only wasn’t shocked to see him; and had planned to do him if he were there.

Of course all of that faded into background noise the morning that Slim was there. She and CC took her places she’d never dreamed of.

As she toweled off, Honey thought about this morning’s session with the Boudreaux family. She’d cheerfully let three boys she’d just met fuck her. Had known she would the second she saw them.

Those three would have been an all-time record for her, but of course Slim had CC join in. So, four boys, one after the other, taking turns.

As she dried her hair, Honey counted up — CC, Alain, the Boudreaux boys. Oh, Hawk too. She’d betrayed Cliff with six different boys. And, had promised Ray-Ray some pussy too. Although now she’d have to clear that with Slim.

So, how did she feel? Really feel, deep down? Like she was hot. Desirable. Fuckable. Like Slim’s slut.

As she dressed and prepared to answer her kids’ questions — about the babysitter, about school, about dinner, she smiled to herself. What would Slim be up to next?

While fixing snacks for her brood, a question popped up. What if those three Boudreaux boys had been in the Studio the first time she met them? If Slim hadn’t been there? If CC hadn’t been there? Then she giggled to herself — no way she’d have passed up prime teenage cock like that.

Suddenly she flashed back to that Boudreaux bedroom. To Slim turning on those cameras. She’d forgotten all about that. God! She couldn’t wait to see the tape that Ray-Ray would send her.

“Mama, why’s your face so red?”

Honey crossed her legs, squeezed her thighs together, “Oh, must be the heat, darlin’ jess the heat.”

Ray-Ray had edited the Boudreaux boys’ tape down to a little under four minutes. The compressed version — which showed every instance when the boys and CC entered her — was even more obscene because of its brevity. It featured Honey’s hungry face as she lunged up to take the next cock. She looked like an out-of-control slut who couldn’t get enough.

Honey loved, loved, loved it.

Ray-Ray included a text: “Slim told me not to send this to the other girls.”

Honey agreed completely. They all had clips of each other being fucked by CC or Alain or Hawk, but this was different. Honey was being fucked at the direction of Slim Hebert. None of the other Calendar Girls would be; this particular sex tape was unique.

Honey had already decided not to tell Velma about her day out on the Gulf. Velma did know that she had spent the night at the Firefly House because she had arranged for the babysitter. But Velma had assumed that Honey was there mainly to provide pussy for CC. She had no idea about Honey’s obsession at being Slim’s slut.

As besotted as Honey was, she knew better than to pursue Slim, knew better than to call her, or even to call CC. No, Honey would wait her turn, confident that Slim would be wanting her, would be using her again and again. At her own leisure.

In the meantime, Honey cheerfully continued her affair with Velma, who was coming by almost every morning when Cliff was on the road. Honey’s kids were in school; Velma’s kids were in school. They gratefully stole an hour or two or three whenever they could manage it.

But they weren’t exclusive to each other. Both girls hooked up with Margot and Marie and Sissy and Linda whenever they called.

Both also got dinnertime calls to report to the Studio first thing in the morning. Velma especially relished it when two boys — or, even better, all three of them — were there to do her.

After her Boudreaux experience, Honey was content with just one at a time. Interestingly, while it was CC who told her to show up at the motel, he himself was never there to do her. These days, it was either Alain or Hawk. Honey was convinced that Slim was keeping CC back, saving him for the next threesome.

Honey didn’t mind waiting for Slim; she enjoyed her anticipation building and building.

Finally, the heat wave broke. As cooler weather set in, Christmas Eve drew closer and closer. Then Ray-Ray — at an impromptu party for the Calendar Girls at Contrary Mary’s — made the announcement.

They crowded around, eager for details. “I want you girls to get really dirty up there on that Saturday morning stage.”

Sissy Bardot pumped her fist, “Yes!”

Linda Mouton batted her eyelashes, “Why, whatever do you mean, Mr. Fontenot?”

He pointed to the tiniest girl, “Sue Ellen?”

She blushed, but squared her shoulders and said, “First, we gotta cum. Really cum, no faking it.”

“And?”

“Finger-fucking each other. Licking pussy. No exceptions, each an’ every one of us.”

“Exactly right. That’s your Christmas present to the town. Now, pay attention. I’ll tape all of that — everything you do with three different cameras. But I’m not going to post any of it in the digital calendar.”

A few of the bolder girls were briefly disappointed. But mainly, the room relaxed. A few girls let out sighs of relief.

As Ray-Ray had figured out, they would now be more at ease up on stage, more open, more willing to do in public what they had done so many times in private.

And after the stage show ... circulating among a hundred or so naked boys would be a lark. Performance anxiety had been pre-removed. Now they could all just have a blast.

Of course, Ray-Ray would still have the tapes — all twelve girls getting it on in front of the wildly masturbating audience. And, he had all of those Studio sex tapes of each of the girls joyfully fucking CC and Alain and Hawk.

Ray-Ray didn’t know what, if anything, Kate, or perhaps Eulalie, would do with the more explicit tapes. But, as Kate had told him, “Better to have them than not.”

The change in the weather was even more welcome down in the Cajun Bayous, where the only relief had been outdoor showers at home and the misters at the Bayou Bar.

But along with cooler temperatures, the young mothers down there faced the challenge of getting their sons to wear clothes again.

The unprecedented heat wave had changed family habits — nudity was more the norm than the exception — but was it a permanent change or merely an aberrational blip? The concern with nudity at home revolved not around erections and ejaculations — that had become a common enough sight in many homes. But where those boys shot off ... specifically in a sister’s, or God forbid, a mother’s pussy. Clothing, even just underpants, should help tame the boys down a little. Maybe.

The women talked among themselves, and a rough strategy emerged. Those mothers who had — reluctantly and otherwise — begun masturbating their sons at bedtime, now had some leverage.

And the same applied to those even fewer mamas who had resorted to blowjobs. To sucking off their especially horny boys at bedtime.