Chapter 6

The party season was beginning. Justin imagined all sorts of problems. Although Chrissie and Angela attended different schools, there was always a crossover of partygoers. He couldn't be sure he wouldn't run into someone who knew he was dating someone else from whom he arrived with. It was difficult backing out of an invitation without an iron-cast alibi. Such were the risks of two-timing, or in his case, three-timing women.

With Chrissie, however, he'd found someone who, like himself, didn't really enjoy parties. Fiercely possessive, she wasn't going to put 'her' man in the way of the competition. As the weeks ticked over towards Christmas, she much preferred going to movies, or a dinner for two. That way she had him within easy reach. There were parties, though, where it just wasn't good manners not to attend.

Angela was definitely a party girl by contrast. She intended to display Justin as often as she could. He was her territory and she was determined to remind everyone of that fact. She liked to dance and hauled Justin up to partner her. He soon discovered a latent rhythm and talent for dancing. He decided it wasn't a world away from sex.

But sex is what Justin could do best. He absorbed all the knowledge, both theoretical and practical that he came across. His preoccupation probably bordered on the obsessional. For the time being, however, neither Chrissie, Angela nor Sharon seemed to mind.

Like she was reliving a past of furtive couplings under trees and in remote places, Sharon kept calling him at least once a week. Often it was during her lunch break. She'd call and give him a place and time, then wordlessly drag him to some 'make out' point. There she would suck him to hardness then fuck him. Always frantic, always with a veil of 'naughtiness' about it. Afterwards she'd push him on his way as if ashamed of herself, and of him.

Sex with all three of his 'women' was sensational, but for different reasons.

Angela was fun-loving. She like to wrestle, clown around and tease. She'd lick Justin's cock, calling it her 'joy stick', rub him with her small tits, laugh and joke and sit on his face. She liked Justin to suck her pussy while fingering the cheeks of her tight little butt. Justin would fuck her slowly, often with her lying across the bed while he stood. Her legs would wrap themselves around his waist. When she came, tears filled her eyes and she'd moan that she loved him.

Chrissie liked to be 'persuaded.' She remained passive, staring blankly at the movie screen, while Justin stalked her thigh. She'd wear a short skirt, even though she knew his hand would drift under it. In the dark of the movie theatre, Chrissie draped a jacket over her lap as Justin's hand slipped higher. She'd lean against his shoulder as his fingers played over her mound.

After the cinema he'd drive her down to the river bank. She'd complain that he'd keep her past curfew. Justin would tell her not to worry, they'd only be a little while. 'I just want to spend a few minutes with you, all alone.' There was no doubt what that 'few minutes' would involve.

Wordlessly they'd get out of the car and push forward the front seats of the EVO. From experience they knew the centre console impeded their lovemaking. Once squashed into the back seat, she'd kiss enthusiastically while permitting Justin to pull up her top. Chrissie would close her eyes as Justin sucked and licked her full breasts. She'd pretend not to notice when he pulled her hand down to the front of his jeans. Absently, she'd knead him as he grew hard beneath her palm.

"We shouldn't, not here!" she'd complain, routinely.

"Just a little longer," Justin would say, massaging her mound under her short skirt.

It was far too cramped for fucking in the back seat of the Mitsubishi. Justin would pull Chrissie out, complaining.

"No, Justin, someone might come," she'd moan as he pulled down her panties.

Then bent forward over the bonnet of the car, or down on the grass, she'd help him fit his big cock into her pussy. By that time she was always ready and thrust back at him as he stroked into her. They quickly became a great team, catching each other's rhythm, sensing one another's peaks. Chrissie always came loudly, despite her fear of discovery. Her orgasm usually triggered his, blasting into her hot pussy as it spasmed with pleasure.

Sometimes the sessions were so intense, Chrissie would walk unsteadily back home from the end of her street where Justin would always leave her. As far as he was aware, her Mother had no inkling of her daughter's new lover's identity.

The following Friday, Angela's night, his blond fox called to tell him that she'd been invited to some 'ladies' night.' He wasn't sure what the euphemism stood for, they'd joked about male strip shows and such like, but she assured him it was nothing more than a chance for her and the girls to have a night away from the boys. As if the news had been telegraphed instantly, Sharon called and tersely gave him an address.

If Justin was disturbed by the uncanniness of it all, at least it filled in the evening. It beat a lonely night in watching TV.

The address was not far from his house, deep in the leafy suburbs. Sharon gave no more information than was strictly necessary to get there at the appointed hour. That, at least, was no more than he was used to.

The house was large and well back from the road. Justin parked his car in the drive amid the manicured lawns and neatly pruned trees. A woman, perhaps in her fifties, answered the door. She was dressed in the same work uniform that Sharon wore. However her tie had been discarded and her collar opened.

"Yes?" she asked, a little confused and swaying slghtly.

A strong whiff of alcohol assailed Justin's nostrils.

"Is that Justin?" called Sharon from inside the house.

"I dunno," the woman said, "a boy..."

"White rally car? Writing on the door? 'bout 5.10, dark hair?"

"Yes. You never said he was so young," the woman said standing aside and beckoning Justin into the house.

The lounge was thick with tobacco smoke. Two glasses and a bottle of rum cluttered a small glass table set between two settees. Sharon slumped in one, clearly the worse for the alcohol.

"Ah Justin," she said, "right on time, as usual."

The other woman entered and took the other settee.

"Justin, this is Frances, she wanted to meet you."

"Now I didn't," Frances protested, "you said..."

"I said, I knew a hot date and you said that's just what you needed."

"No I didn't... well maybe I did... but I didn't realise he'd be so young. Sharon, are you saying that you and he..."

"Oh yes, he's young," Sharon replied, "but so talented. He does what he's told and keeps his mouth shut, don't you sugar?"

Justin shuffled uncomfortably in the middle of the room. He felt he was being appraised, like some prize bull.

"Sit down honey lips," Sharon smirked, "right beside Frances. Be nice to her."

"Sharon!" Frances protested, "I don't think..."

"Oh what more do you want, darling? He's good looking, slim, obedient, enthusiastic and hung like a donkey."

Both women burst out laughing.

"What more do I want?" laughed Frances, "well a beard perhaps?"

"Oh I'm sure he shaves," replied Sharon, "besides, who wants sandpaper scratching your thighs?"

More laughter. Justin rolled his eyes, looked at the floor. He didn't like being made a fool of like this. The situation was weird, he knew he should leave, but curiousity got the better of him. He sat down next to the older woman.

Frances had greying hair and pearl earings swinging from her ears. The Travel Company's uniform jacket was unbuttoned, her knee length skirt clung to her shapely crossed legs encased in sheer Nylon. Justin watched how her leg swung as she talked, and joked, with Sharon.

"... Lovely hands," Sharon was saying, "like my ex-husband's. And those 'come-hither eyes..."

Justin continued to watch Frances's foot swing like a pendulum.

"... Morals like an alley-cat..." Sharon went on, "just like Frank... anything warm, that was Frank, the arsehole!"

Sharon's speech was slurred. Justin hadn't seen her so drunk before.

"... My daughter Chrissie had a crush on him since before she got tits..."

Justin jerked as if he'd been given an electric shock. His senses were instantly on alert.

"... But I knew he was grief. So like Frank. She could do much better. He was so easy to pull," Sharon chuckled, "flash some pussy..."

'She *knew* all along about Chrissie's liking for him!' Justin thought. The feeling began to grow that he'd been set up all along.

"... But we cured her little obsession, didn't we sugar? Walked right in on us... always takes a shower first thing Saturday morning. The only shower's in my en-suite you see, Fran. Cunning of me don't you think?"

"That's awful!" Frances replied, "you steal her, her..."

"Fantasy, Fran. And that's all it will ever be, won't it sugar?" she looked squarely at Justin, "Because Justin knows that if he ever laid a hand on my daughter, his dick will be a lot shorter!"

Both women dissolved into more laughter. Justin squirmed uncomfortably.

"Sit a bit closer to Frances, will you Justin. Giver her some attention!" Sharon told him.

Automatically, Justin shuffled closer to the other woman.

"I don't think..." Frances started to say.

"Oh yes you do," Sharon said, "he'll be very good to you."

"But I haven't... with anyone... since Jim died," said Frances, "no man's touched me in years..."

"Well it's way past time. Justin give her a kiss... put your arm around her... go on!"

Dumbly Justin leaned in. Frances accepted his kiss reluctantly, but did not move away when he moved in for a second. Trying to ignore Sharon's smirking presence, he applied himself to the task, nibbling and licking her slowly responding lips.

"Oh my, my..." Frances sighed.

"Good, eh?" Sharon commented, "go on, Justin, take her through to the bedroom and show her a good time. Start with a good massage, perhaps?"

Like an automaton, Justin stood and took the woman's hand. Frances allowed him to pull her to her feet and be towed towards the bedroom door.

"I shouldn't..." Frances protested.

"Oh go-on, get some dick!" cajoled Sharon.

Frances stumbled after Justin and through into the bedroom, still protesting. The blinds were already drawn, the room was dim and dominated by an immaculately made bed. Her hands lightly rested on Justin's hips as he continued to kiss her rum and tobacco flavoured lips.

"You know, you don't have to do this. It was all Sharon's..." she started to say before being cut off by Justin's kissing. "Oh my! I haven't been kissed like that since Jim..."

Justin slipped his arms around her waist, under her jacket. He continued to kiss her, open-mouthed and passionately.

"Perhaps," she said quietly, breathing heavily, "a little playing but I don't think we should..."

Justin silenced her with his mouth. He was starting to feel turned on himself. Her reluctance seemed to fuel his desire. Her hands held onto his hips a little more firmly. Justin pulled her tighter against his chest, feeling her boobs squash between them.

"Would you care for a massage?" Justin asked her.

"Well, perhaps," she replied, "Sharon said you were quite good at it. Massage, I mean," she added, reddening.

She backed away and took off her jacket. Her breasts, although smaller than Sharon's, were strongly supported. Justin imagined that, released, they would sag a fair bit. Frances undid the belt of her tight skirt, lowered the zip at the side, and dragged it down over her hips with difficulty.