Chapter 2

The door opened again and Aunt Betty trooped in, wearing nothing, carrying a tray. "Your breakfast order, Sir!" she announced, settling it over my lap as I scooted up to put my back against the couch back. Behind her was a Goth chick and one of the black girls, each carrying a pitcher. "How about a Bloody Mary?" Aunt Betty asked. Somebody turned on a real, honest to God lamp so I could see more than the light coming from the doorway afforded.

"Yeah, that would be nice -- but water, first." I studied the breakfast. Scrambled eggs (I liked mine over easy, but... ) done with bacon (a plus!) and raisin toast, buttered (I'd have gone dry). "This is nice..."

"You'll pay for it," Aunt Betty told me, pouring a glass of water and handing me the pills. Looking up, she added, "Girls, yours is upstairs in the kitchen -- get it yourselves!" There was the sound of several sets of bare feet stumping out the door and up some stairs.

I popped the pills and chugged half a glass of water before switching to the Bloody Mary that the black girl had poured from the other pitcher. Taking a sip, I enjoyed the pepper in it while setting it on the tray and reaching for a fork. "How?" I asked.

"The way you have been," Aunt Betty replied. "Except instead of doing the young stuff, you have to fuck my old tired ass."

I looked around for Mimi; Betty divined my intent. "She went up to get breakfast -- but she knows. We made the deal last night while you were losing at strip poker."

I shook my head. "I was so fucked up it could have been Crazy Eights..."

"I know, Hon, and some of that was deliberate -- we knew you were shy. It showed early on," she said. "We wanted you lit enough to get comfortable and say things you normally wouldn't -- and you didn't disappoint!"

"Uh oh." I was going to be mortified...

"You were sweet! You told every woman present that she was beautiful -- even Trina! And you told Mimi she was a goddess! You talked every girl at the table out of her top, and told each and every one of us what beautiful titties we have! Do you know how many times someone has told some of us things like that?"

"Well, no..."

"In some cases, exactly zero. You have no idea!"

"Well, I was drunk, but I don't remember seeing a set here I didn't like..." I admitted.

"Then we dragged you off to the pool, and you wore yourself out chasing girls all over it -- by the time you passed out, you could have had any girl in the place!"

"And I don't remember squat," I groused, "and I passed out!"

"Well, there's always tonight," Betty replied, smiling. "We'll get you back on your feet for the day and not overload you this afternoon -- you'll be fine."

"Tonight?"

"Yes -- didn't Mimi tell you? This is a two-day thing. If you'd been different, she'd have probably taken you home today and come back -- but the girls would snatch her bald if she tried, at this point!" Betty grinned. "There will be another barbeque about noon, and we'll find some way of entertaining ourselves this evening..."

"Maybe I'll know what I'm doing this time," I grunted.

"Well, we would prefer it if you were loose, but not blitzed," Betty agreed. "The girls need a little in them to get brave, too -- otherwise, everyone sits around getting embarrassed."

"I'm embarrassed NOW!"

"You shouldn't be," Betty rejoined. "You were cute and sweet and a keeper before you crashed -- and then you woke up and made like Supercock..."

"I'm not..." I sputtered.

"The Hell you aren't!" Betty argued. "How often do you get laid?"

"Very seldom," I told her. "Oh, a couple of women have told me I was something, but I figure they were just trying to latch onto me. Bar flies are easier to catch, but they don't share my interests. They all seem to have issues, and..."

Betty shook her head. "There are a lot of stupid, deprived women in the world, the way I hear it. Some woman should have scooped you up a long time ago -- except, if you deliver like you have today, you might need two!"

"I..." The woman was on drugs, or something. I forked more eggs into my mouth to keep from extending the argument.

Girls had been filtering back downstairs with plates in their hands; someone in the background muttered, "Amen!" I turned to look, but whoever it was stayed out of sight behind me.

It seemed like I needed to set someone straight, so I said, "Look, I'm just a normal guy..."

"With a world-class dick!" Betty cut me off, smirking. "Early in the evening when you were looped and playing around, we didn't get any serious impression of what you were packing, but when you fired it up..."

"When I fired it up!" I laughed. "I had a LOT of help! There's some sweet... uh..." I shut up.

"Pussy?" Betty supplied, cocking her head. "Girls, is there anyone here who objects to being told her pussy is sweet?"

"Nope!" Uh uh!" "No way!" Those were the clearest of the murmurs.

"Still..." I wasn't prepared to let them swell my head. "It's not..."

"A foot long?" Betty laughed. "But it IS eight and a half inches, right? That's two over the average -- did you know that?"

I didn't. "No shit?"

"No shit." Betty replied, nodding. "Six and a bit is the average -- and I've seen a LOT less!"

"Well, maybe I exaggerated," I replied. "We do that, you know..."

But Betty reached down and took it in hand and it started making a liar out of me pretty quickly. "Hurry up and eat, Honey -- I want my tip -- and several inches of shaft, too!" Betty told me, winking. "Somebody go up to my sewing area and bring back a cloth tape so we can see if Pete is exaggerating!"

"I've got it!" Feet thudded on the stairs behind me.

It's hard to concentrate on something as mundane as eating when a woman is knelt up between your spread legs playing with your dick -- or, at least, it's hard for me! Betty didn't blow me -- but she jacked me and blew her breath across the tip and licked it and grinned at me salaciously and generally had a good time getting me fully aroused. Somebody -- Annette, I think, one of the cousins -- showed up with the cloth tape and I tried to chew my toast placidly while Betty got serious -- but she was too talented; in seconds, I was hunched over, grunting in pleasure, unable to pay attention to food. Somebody hauled away the tray of leftovers -- two somebodies, I think, to keep me from spilling something -- while Betty proceeded to swallow my glans. Then she popped up and whipped the tape into place along my diamond- hard shaft. "What do you think, Mimi?" she asked.

"Closer to eight and three-quarters, I think," Mimi leaned in to look.

"Damn, Honey, you hit a home run with this one!" somebody muttered. "If you don't want him..."

"Get your own!" Mimi declared, her voice more firm than I'd heard it in a hundred discussions with nasty customers on the phone. "I'll share, but he's MINE -- aren't you, Sweetie?"

Now how the FUCK was I gonna say no to those big, green eyes? I just nodded, wordless, hypnotized, and kissed bachelorhood goodbye -- not that it was any loss...

"So sweet..." Betty shook her head, smiling. I blushed. "Now get out of here, all of you, so an old woman can wallow over his sweet dick in peace!"

Grumbling, women headed for the stairs -- I still didn't know how many. Mimi waited to last, her hand on my shoulder. "Don't wear it out, Auntie!" she admonished Betty before telling me, "Give my favorite aunt a good ride, won't you, Sweetheart? She's deprived..."

Betty was already settling her cunt over my erection; I gasped and nodded my head and in a moment the door closed. "I'm going to leave the light on, so I can see the expressions on your face," Betty gasped. "Close your eyes if watching my fat flop around gets too sickening..."

She really wasn't anywhere near awful to look at, even slamming full blast up and down on my rod. I held her titties to keep them from interfering too much with what she was doing and she begged me to haul on them by the nipples, so I shifted my grip; she was prime for late forties or early fifties -- shit, she was prime for late twenties when riding a dick! She stopped twice to shudder and squirt on me while her eyes rolled up, and when I lost control and juiced her insides with my spunk, she flopped forward and kissed me on the neck and panted, "Thank you, Baby..."

"Shit, you're welcome!" I gasped in reply. We panted a moment, and I asked, "I still don't get it -- what's going on?"

Betty pushed herself to the vertical, my slowly deflating cock still buried inside her. "Honey, I'm sure you've noticed that our family runs to big girls..."

"Well, yeah," I agreed, "But..."

"But what, Honey?"

"Well, I dunno," I muttered while I pondered the whole thing. "I mean, I don't see anything that negative about you..."

"Do you do a lot of fat girls, Honey?" Betty pressed.

"Well, no..." I'd had a few -- being too choosy means you date your hand a lot if you had my limited amount of visible charms -- and generally, porky girls weren't any too flexible or energetic and they'd been too sweaty to be fun. "But your family doesn't impress me as being fat..."

"I bet I have fifty pounds on you, Honey," Betty insisted. "And it's NOT muscle!"

"But you're bigger!" I protested.

"That isn't generally a positive," Betty sighed. "Our girls run to big -- and they run to shy -- and it's a combination that isn't in demand..."

"Well, okay, but when I look around, I don't just see family..." I insisted. "Obviously, they make friends..."

"Girlfriends. Girls with the same issues, generally," Betty pointed out. "No doubt you've noticed that a couple of them are, um, dealing with things in other ways?"