Chapter 7

After that, of course, we fucked again; I made Karen blow me for a while, sitting in my office chair, but I didn't shoot in her mouth. Instead, I hauled her up and took her to the bedroom to finish the job. I had her squat over me and I worked her with a vibrator until pussy juice dribbled from her and she made hot noises around my dick. "Okay, you got yours," I told her, "Now work it -- I'm timing you! You've got three minutes -- if you're such an expert, you should be able to get me off in that time -- and if you can't, you're gonna sleep in the basement!"

My intent was to get her to fail, but she turned the intensity way up, gobbling me right down -- and she might not have made it in time, but I was so distracted I didn't notice! I blew my nut wedged in her throat with her nose snuffling my balls -- tough to complain about a lack of commitment under those circumstances. I was tired, anyway -- better to chain her up in the basement when we both could enjoy it. I hauled her ass against me and went to sleep.

Friday morning I sent the Moffat clan home and headed out to do some serious business for once. I visited the bank, my bookkeeper, my property manager, and drove by a rental to make sure things were looking good. After that, groceries, lunch, assorted other errands and home by three. After I put the groceries away, I went over to hit up Michael. "How did it go?"

"Killer! Mom's suffering -- THAT's for sure! I need to find a way to get a look in her room, but I KNOW she was doing herself like crazy!"

"Well, that's cool and all, but it doesn't get her where I want her," I muttered. "What about Heather?"

"No guess," Michael muttered. "She's just too secretive."

"Well, I'll lay off for a couple of days, I guess, so you guys can come over again, eventually."

"Cool. I'll rag her," Michael replied. "She hasn't admitted why we've been forbidden to go over again."

As things turned out, I had to change tactics for the third time in twenty-four hours. At about a quarter to four, I got a telephone call. "Cletus?"

"Yes. Who is this?"

"It's Amy."

"Amy!" I was genuinely pleased. "I was afraid that your tiff with Heather would end our association!"

"Well, you know how it is -- I know the ropes at work and we really hit it off and she needs a role model..." (I snorted at this) "And her mother is being a twat again, so I CERTAINLY wasn't REALLY the cause of the problem..." Amy giggled.

"I gather she's not standing there."

"Nope. She's talking to her girlfriend Kate, I think."

"What about?"

"A sleepover -- at your house."

"Never gonna happen," I replied, "Jean won't stand for it."

"We're gonna make her," Amy replied. "Do you REALIZE how HOT it is?"

"Well, yeah, I've heard rumors..." I chuckled. We'd actually gotten a two day respite -- all the way down to the mid-eighties -- just enough to make today's 105 unbearable. "How do you plan to manage this feat of black magic?"

"We're gonna put it all together -- five or six of us -- then we're gonna spring it on her. When she complains, we're gonna want to know why..."

I laughed. "She won't tell you -- but Michael will if you ask him. He'll probably enjoy it."

"Want to share?"

"Let Michael tell Heather. I've been fucking women on the back deck -- and Jean's been watching and jilling off."

"Oooooo! I LIKE that! That'll be PERFECT when we make her be the chaperone and keep an eye on old Evil Cletus..." Amy cackled.

"I wish you luck!"

"She'll be between a rock and a hard dick!" Amy laughed.

"Well, I'll play if you can swing it -- normal rules for the pool, though!"

"Yeah, we'll need to give you your eye-candy!" Amy giggled.

"What are YOUR plans?"

"Girl fun."

"Yeah, that works. Who gets spillover?"

"Michael?"

"He would no doubt be forever grateful," I mused. "That reminds me -- if Heather is still talking to Kate, have her call me."

"How well do you know Kate?" Amy asked archly.

"Well enough to know that she's a soft target -- and that properly read in, she'll help you," I replied.

"She hasn't beaten me to you, has she?"

"No, but her momma has."

"Oho! Got to go -- I'll want to catch Heather before she hangs up!"

"Don't forget permission slips!"

"Right!"

I went out to buy more air mattresses. While I was at the store, Kate called. "Hi."

"Hi. I hear you've been invited to a slumber party."

"Yeah..."

"At my house."

"Uh huh. Your idea?" she asked.

"Nope, but I'm going along. Heather's new friend Amy wants to see if she can get in her panties and loosen her up. You should probably help, if you can get away with it. And while you're at it, you might go through your list of girlfriends for one who is susceptible -- and who has a little sister who is, too."

"Oh! For Peter? Good idea!" Kate cooed.

"Yeah. Not fair for you girls to hog the place -- I'll stock the basement with hard dicks."

"Um, gee, thanks..." I could tell that she was worried about what might happen if temptation overcame her. "What about Mom?"

"She gets in nice and late," I replied. "She can leave her clothes on until she reports to me -- then, depending upon what is happening, we'll find her some entertainment."

"Okay, I'll tell her."

"Bye!" I hung up and went back to party planning and purchases.

I got home before Jean, which gave me an opportunity to be a fly on the wall using my directional microphone when Heather and Amy and Kate and some girl named Gina and her sister Joy and some OTHER girl named Holly let go on her. Not being able to tell anyone just WHY she'd made my house off-limits again made her come off as a total bitch -- and there were too many other girls present, frankly, to get away with it. Fobbing the whole thing off on me looked doable, so she tried it. "Have you even spoken to Cletus about this?"

"Amy called him -- right Amy?" Heather replied.

"What did he say?"

"He said it was all right with him if it was all right with you!"

"I think I'd better call him..."

I waited until the third ring to pick up. "Hello?"

"Cletus? It's Jean. Did Amy call you about some crazy sleepover idea?"

"Well, yeah -- I mean, it's hotter than Hell again, you know -- I can see them wanting to keep cool."

"What are you going to do with a half-dozen teenage girls trooping around your house?" Jean asked.

"Stay out of the way, I figure," I replied. "Besides, they said something about you being around to chaperone..."

"What?"

"Well, nobody's gonna be any too excited about me hosting a bunch of young girls alone! I figured I'd park Michael and Pete in the basement so they didn't suffer -- it's fully finished ... You can keep an eye on me to make sure I don't drool on 'em too much. I think it's a grand plan. I laid in some drinks and chips and burgers and stuff -- might as well whoop it up..."

"And adult swim?"

"Just how many teenage girls do you think I can catch and fuck at one time?" I asked, "Especially with you dragging me back? It won't hurt 'em to get wet in public -- we can keep the boys off 'em. It's good exercise -- gets the juices flowing."

"They don't need to have THOSE juices flowing!"

"Yeesh! Not EVERYBODY is shut off, you know!" I complained.

"No kidding!" Jean rasped.

I chuckled. "You noticed, no doubt, that I've only corrupted the older generation."

"Well ... You and that Jacuzzi..."

"You're welcome to tell 'em it's off limits, but it might make a couple of 'em happy."

"Cletus! You're a horror!"

"Yep. Put your suit on and get your fanny over here so you can defend the youth of America from me..." I hung up.

Even Heather knew her mother was screwed. "We're in!" she yelped. The resulting uproar was impossible to shut off by denying everything; Jean started trying to apply damage control. "Cletus won't let you over there without permission slips!" Everybody had one. "He'll call to confirm these! In fact..." Jean called -- which legitimized everything. What an idiot ... As for adult swim, the girls all knew, even if their parents didn't -- and there was such a thing as going too far ... Jean was stuck -- and probably the worst of it was she had to face me, knowing what I knew...

It was a quarter after six when everyone came trooping in. Heather would no doubt be in trouble for presenting her mother with a situation she couldn't get out of, but that would happen later. For now, she was all smiles -- and given the fact that she probably knew why I'd been put off limits, she had a weapon to use in defense, if not attack. I played genial host, arranging things, showing the girls the setup, handing out sodas and such. Dinner would wait until it was cooler -- eight-thirty, probably. Karen dropped Pete off and he and Michael hung back, watching the girls with hungry eyes and talking among themselves. I wandered over and gathered them up. "Okay, we're kicking this off low-key," I told them. "Michael, did Heather ask you why her mother has been balky?"

"Yeah," he grinned.

"Did you tell all?"

"Yeah."

"Good. Right now, your mama is the enemy -- but she's slipped up and we may be able to pin her ears back. You guys need to show some restraint during the early going; Amy will probably be a ringleader and drive stuff your way. Take what you're given and don't get too grabby or greedy, so your mama doesn't feel like she has to step in, and it'll pay dividends. I'm gonna stick you guys in the basement -- there's a TV and a DVD player, and I stuck some porn on the shelf. Cover your asses and don't do any fuck-buddy stuff until everything quiets down -- but keep an eye out, because I hope to feed you some pussy, so you won't have to fall back on each other." Both of them gave me this look that said they weren't sure they wanted female company, so I grunted, "Trust me -- it's worth it. Save each other for a fall-back plan. That way you KNOW you're gonna get SOMETHING and it'll help you handle other shit."

"Okay." Pete nodded. Michael took in this evidence of cooperation and cocked his head, then nodded, too.

Jean pounced as I was leaving the boys. "What was THAT all about?"

"I was briefing them on the arrangements and telling them to behave themselves so you don't bust things up," I replied gruffly. "Nobody wants you to get excited and queer this thing for them. Nobody."

"Cletus..."

"No, I'm not taking any shit. You behave yourself -- nobody is going to get fucked in the swimming pool. If you want shit to go right, you can set an example, instead of making like the Gestapo. If you were to show the kids that being naked is just being short some clothing instead of an incitement to riot that requires billy-clubs and stun-guns, they might react with a little decorum."

Jean took the rebuke like a slap in the face. "I -- I..."

"Do you REALLY think I arranged to have a half-dozen young girls over to my house just so I could perv on them and fuck them one by one? How exactly am I going to make that work? Are they gonna line up at my bedside? Who's gonna force-feed me Viagra so I can get through them all? Jeezus, Jean!"

"Well, you're gonna look," Jean replied feebly.

"Yeah, I'm gonna look. And they're looking forward to it. They're looking forward to having Michael and Pete look, too, despite the fact that they're going to pretend that the boys are hopelessly young and not a serious threat. Some of them are going to be showing skin for the first time to a male -- and they're going to be looking for a positive response. Can't you see that this might be a GOOD thing?"

"You want something from me."

"You betcha. I want you to skin down and park your cute butt in a deck chair in plain sight and preside over things like the Queen of Sheba. I want you to pretend you're still clothed and not act like your nipples can't stand the light of day or something. The more casually you handle things, the more casually they will and the sooner they'll move on to just doing the usual pool shit."

"I don't know..."

"I'm not asking you to spread your legs and scratch your twat in public -- I'm saying act ladylike, so the girls have an example."

"Cletus! My God!"

"Okay, what were you planning? Splashing around with a whistle and a butterfly net?"

"What are YOU planning to do?"

"I'll spend considerable time in the water, because my pecker is less of a target there," I replied. "But I'll be in and out -- I probably will have to be -- and when I'm out, I'll try not to be a major distraction -- mostly by not drawing attention to myself by wandering around covering my package like I've been kicked in the balls."

"Why should I put myself on display?"

"Worried about Michael and Pete?"

"Well, some. I'm going to get ogled."

"One thing I've learned very clearly is that women LIKE being ogled. Handle it as if you're wearing a suit. Being ogled is a compliment -- you can handle compliments, right?"

"Well, yes."

"You don't REALLY think one of them is gonna fly out of the pool and throw you on your back and fuck you, do you?"

"Well, no."

"Then WHAT is the fucking problem?" I rasped.