Chapter 7: Peggy Mouton sighed...

Peggy Mouton sighed as she placed freshly-washed underpants in her youngest son’s dresser drawer. All three kids were at school, so it was a quiet, convenient time to catch up on household chores. But when she saw what was hidden in Tee-Roy’s drawer, she muttered, “Oh fuck.”

It was the front-page article from the Sausalito Chronicle that showed the 12 mothers — head shots. The clipping had been neatly scissored from the paper. And her photo, Peggy’s head-shot, had been circled with a red magic marker.

Well, that particular cat is out of that particular bag.

She searched her other two son’s stashes and was mildly relieved that only Tee-Roy had saved the article.

Sausalito had one radio station — WZYD. It played mostly pre-programmed Cajun music, a lot of zydeco. Once in a while an announcer came into the station and gave the local news and weather, in Cajun French, of course.

Shannon Trudeau owned the radio station as well as the Sausalito Chronicle. During the week of the cocksucking contest, she herself came on the air at 7:30 in the morning when many families would have the radio on and be sitting down for breakfast.

She gave the daily announcements in both English and Cajun French. “Yesterday was day one of the Miss Kitty BJ contest. Mrs. Gigi Fontenot is the early leader with seven (long pause) mouthfuls. It’s a tight race, though, with six more days to go. Jolene Horton and Peggy Mouton are tied for second, having made five Sausalito men very happy.”

WZYD was known jokingly as the Blowtorch of the Bayous. It’s broadcast range was limited to Sausalito and the bayous south of town. Since there was almost zero chance of being heard by anyone from the FCC, Shannon decided to push the language, to become a little more explicit each day.

And, like it did in small-town America, word spread — Shannon Trudeau’s daily blowjob update became must-listen radio.

On the third day, “Peggy Mouton has taken a one-BJ lead in what is turning out to be an extremely exciting and tight race. I have the owner of Miss Kitty’s, Kate Broussard, on the line. Kate, do your girls have to swallow to compete for the five-hundred dollar prize?’

Kate read from the prepared script, laughing, “Have to? My heavens, all my girls have been swallowing cum all their lives. It would be ... almost unnatural not to. Especially for these married moms ... why I couldn’t imagine.”

Shannon sent transcripts to Eulalie, who, giggling, showed them to Chase Windsor. He said, “When Peggy wins, have Shannon interview her youngest on the radio.”

Sunday had been the last day of the contest, and a good portion of Sausalito tuned in for the big announcement on Monday morning. Shannon didn’t waste any time, “I am proud to announce that Mrs. Peggy Mouton sucked 27 cocks in one week. Two more than any other girl. Peggy, here is your prize — five crisp, new one-hundred dollar bills.”

Small voice, “Thank you, Miss Trudeau.”

“No, thank you Peggy. Tell me, dear, did you ever imagine that you would swallow 27 loads of cum in a single week?”

Deep red blush that no one could see, but her embarrassment was captured in her voice, “No, ma’am, no, not at all.”

“I’m so proud of you, Peggy. So is Kate Broussard; so, in fact, is the town of Sausalito. Peggy Mouton, you are our champion cocksucker and no one can ever take that away from you.”

Then, oddly, Peggy began to relax. It wasn’t because Shannon was a talented interviewer; she was average at best. Mainly, Peggy loosened up because the topic was familiar territory — stuff that she and the other dancers discussed from time to time.

“Peggy, when you’re in one of the BJ Rooms sucking cock, what are you wearing?”

“Wearing? Oh, nothing. Well, I have my garter on, with my, you know, tip money.”

“But other than that, you’re naked?”

“Yes ma’am. I figure if they’re paying forty dollars, they get to see everything I got.” She nodded to herself, “Besides some guys like to finger-fuck me a little.”

“I understand, very ... um, courteous of you. Now Peggy, I’m curious, Sausalito is curious, did the cum taste different as you went from man to man?”

“Yes ma’am. Some is real salty, some kinda sweet, a couple of the younger guys ... well, they tasted sort of ... fresh?”

“I see. Now let’s talk about size. — cock size. What was the range — I mean who better to ask than the girl who sucked off 27 of them?”

It was just like the dressing room talk. “Well, ma’am, there were a few kinda stubby? Nice and thick though. But I’d say most boys were around five or six, maybe seven inches?” Peggy was getting into it, “Now there are two guys — all us girls know who they are — they gotta be eight, nine, maybe even ten inches.”

“Really?”

“Yes ma’am, no way I can get that much in my mouth, it would plum choke me. But I can still make ‘em cum, no problemo.” Peggy frowned, “But three guys wanted to cum on my face. I mean, I still sucked them off, but they pulled out and shot all over my face.”

“Fascinating. So you didn’t actually swallow 27 loads of cum?”

Another frown, “Well, I think I did, yes ma’am. You see they like to watch me use my fingers to wipe it off. Then I lick my fingers clean, so...”

“So you did swallow all 27 loads. Brava, Peggy, brava!”

Now in many ways this was scandalous talk; shocking to hear on AM radio. But, in fact the questions had been on the minds of several families in town. And Shannon asked them in such a natural, isn’t-this-interesting voice, that listeners were drawn in. Only a handful of people called in to complain and they were dismissed as being, for the most part, older, pulpit-driven cranks.

The next edition of the Chronicle featured a full-length photo of Peggy in a skimpy bikini. The headline: Town Champion!

‘Mrs. Peggy Mouton, mother of three, residing on Dewberry Lane, beat out eleven other mothers to win the coveted BJ crown at Miss Kitty’s. In addition to the $500 prize for making 27 men very happy, Mrs. Mouton will be the featured performer for the last set over the next seven nights at Miss Kitty’s. Gentlemen of Sausalito, this is your chance to experience a championship-level performance.’

As Eulalie had expected, the newspaper coverage, and especially the explicit radio broadcasts, further normalized family conversations around the subject of cocksucking, of swallowing cum, of cock size, of facials, of the open coverage of once-taboo subjects.

Following instructions, Ray-Ray passed out copies of the front page to Carver and Sausalito Elementary. Cindy led the way in thumbtacking the Peggy Mouton article to her bulletin board. Down low so it would be easy to read.

Shannon Trudeau decided not to interview Tee-Roy Mouton on the radio. That could have been pushing things too far. But she did give him a copy of the front page article, framed and matted, with glass in front to protect it. Peggy, having been through the publicity mill, didn’t protest. What difference would it make now?

It only lasted a couple of weeks, but demand for a Peggy Mouton hummer increased substantially. Now this, she didn’t mind. She liked the extra attention, and certainly appreciated the money.

So far as she could tell, her three sons hadn’t been harassed, hadn’t even been teased at school. Five hundred dollars was serious money in that blue-collar town, and almost everyone understood that. Peggy even got use to being hailed as “Hi, champ!” in the grocery store, dropping her sons off at school. Several boys and even a couple of girls asked her to autograph her pussy wedge photo.

Later she told Kate, “I guess I worried and fretted for nothing, me.”

Kate smiled kindly, “Lesson learned, hon, just do as you’re told.”

“Yes ma’am.”

One change lingered from the contest. Shannon decided to speak directly to her listeners every Monday morning at 7:30. Her program — Shannon Says — remained popular because she often incorporated juicy gossip, naughty asides, and sometimes downright vulgar pronouncements.

“What two elementary teachers put on a wild pussy-licking exhibition late Friday night at Miss Kitty’s?”

“I’m taking a listener poll, Sausalito. I want you ladies to call in to call in and answer one simple question — do you swallow cum? Yes or no?”

“Exciting news from Miss Kitty’s. Kate Broussard just announced another cocksucking contest — this one for teachers only! The same prize money — five-hundred dollars will go the girl who swallows the most loads of cum. Teachers from Sausalito High, John Lee Hooker Middle School, Carver Elementary, and Sausalito Elementary will be competing. I’ll be giving daily blowjob updates right here at WZYD.”

Sausalito, Mississippi was isolated geographically. Located at the very southern edge of the state, it was surrounded on three sides by the Gulf of Mexico. The only access from the north was a single road, the oddly named Andre Previn Boulevard.

But adding even more insularity to the town was the deep-seated Cajun culture. A proud citizenry, parochial and protective. Not so much wary of outsiders, but fiercely loyal to each other.

One example was illegal drugs. The chief of police, Rémy Thibodeaux, conducted his own war on drugs. His men, from his top two lieutenants on down through the ranks, went medieval on meth labs, fentanyl pushers, and even one doctor who oversubscribed pain pills.

Arrests, beatdowns, stiff fines, long jail terms — word was out. It simply wasn’t worth it to peddle dope in Sausalito. Conversely, Rémy, under Marie Guidry’s guidance, helped to establish a surprisingly progressive treatment program.

An innovative recovery center, free counseling, job placements, and, crucially, a clean record for first-time offenders. The police and the city attorney ignored marijuana infractions even before legislators began easing restrictions.

Pot — okay. Heroin — get the fuck out of town.

Some folks thought the narcotics policies were too lenient. Others, too restrictive. But the majority in Sausalito were satisfied. Just look how bad things were up in Jackson. Let alone hellholes like New York and Chicago and Los Angeles.

No, compared with New Orleans and Atlanta ... well, little ole Sausalito was just fine, thank you.

That same type of civic acceptance was apparent in the town’s attitude toward many things sexual. Marie Guidry, followed by Eulalie and Chase Windsor, had succeeded in altering the local attitude regarding Miss Kitty’s.

That Main Street strip joint had evolved from being reviled to tolerated to accepted to, in many quarters, admired.

It hired local girls and local girls only. The money stayed in town. Kate Broussard was strict but fair. And always available for an emergency loan whether you worked for her or not.

The Sausalito solidarity that kept drug addiction to a minimum gradually helped people rally around the dancers at Miss Kitty’s. A job was a job. Until it became more than just a job. Over the years Marie, then Eulalie, had helped shape perceptions of the profession until employment up on that stage had become aspirational for many girls and young women.

Just as Rémy and his officers were building a political coalition by doing favors, large and small, Kate Broussard was earning good will. She was now one of the largest employers in town. A major taxpayer, and a strong champion for her girls.

The town’s perception and appreciation had shifted over the years. As had the citizens’ attitudes and conversations that revolved around sex.

The once-infamous Blowjob Room was now almost as accepted as the Shell station or Contrary Mary’s. Been there, done that, settled law.

Particularly pleasing to Eulalie these days was how dinner-table conversations, classroom discussions, coffee-shop chit-chat routinely covered blowjobs, pussy wedges, swallowing cum, and the like.

Sausalito’s isolation, its culture, its independence ... the factors that united folks on drug policies, on local politics, on acceptance of open sexuality ... they all worked together in this unique little corner of the world.

Chase Windsor had seen it from an outsider’s perspective, and had directed Eulalie to consider Sausalito to be her laboratory — a place to experiment, to push, to have fun.

Eulalie called Kate Broussard, “How is your dance troupe doing?” The 15 girls aged 14 to 16 who were taking Sunday morning dance classes at Miss Kitty’s.

“Oh, real good. Cindy and Gigi and Jolene got almost all of them smooching and fingering each other on stage.”

“Nude?”

“Yes ma’am every single one of them. It’s automatic now — they show up, take a shower, and hop up on that stage.”

“Who’s your gutsiest girl?”

“Barbie, Barbie Cailou. Cindy got her to finger-fuck her in one of the lap dance rooms. And Barbie was the first to do another girl up on the stage.”

“Is she licking pussy yet?”

“Cindy said she just started — she and Lisa Benoit. But they only do it at Lisa’s house, not on stage. Not yet. Cindy didn’t want to push them too fast.”