Chapter 12: Bobble, Bounce and Wobble

The tub got a real work out. Well fucked women made a constant stream from bed to tub to bed and back.

As much as I hate to admit defeat ... I was truly fucked ... fucked out ... I hope I wasn't fucked over.

Just about the time I didn't think I could raise another cum, one of the other "J's" slid a well lubed dildo up my ass ... I don't mind telling you ... THAT was an experience I didn't need ... but I liked it. I was going like a stallion after a mare when she turned it on ... not a dildo ... a vibrator! I don't know who was the recipient of that dose but if she was in her cycle she was going to have triplets! Holy Shit! The saying 'Up your ass, mother fucker' takes on a whole new meaning!

"Lunch!" Jannell yelled.

There were naked women running around looking for their own clothes when Jill shouted, "We're all the same size! Just get dressed. We have to go to work!"

Soon, very soon, a file of oddly dressed young ladies filed past me. Each one gave me a soul burning kiss and lit out the door.

I was alone.

I say oddly dressed because not one of them had buttons correctly buttoned, or brushed hair, or a stitch of makeup. I think it's the first time I'd seen them when they weren't perfect and I liked it. They might be carbon copies of each other but they are different. Wonderful!

There were some pretty individuals in the restaurant instead of look alike's. Instead of the lobster bisque, I was served a huge, warm in the middle, Porterhouse, with butter fried onions and oyster sauce. My soup was oyster stew and there were a dozen on the half shell. I think someone was trying to tell me something ... you think?

Jannell stuck her head out of the kitchen, "Eat it all! We have plans for you tonight!"

You could put my platter back on the stack when I was done. I ate everything and sopped up the blood with the homemade bread. Refreshed, I popped up and headed out the door.

John was at the desk, "David? We can't find the Sheriff. Do you have any ... No? Well, we were wondering, his car is here but we can't find him."

"Did you check with Jason?"

"No. We don't go in Jason's room without an invitation."

I looked out the door to the veranda. Jake was there but no Jason.

"Maybe Jason fell and he's hurt." I suggested, "I'll go look if you're worried."

That created a response way out of line.

"NO! We'll send one of his granddaughters."

And that, as they say, was that.

"I'm going up to my house." All innocent like.

"Wait, I'll get one of the girls to go with you!" That was mostly a mumble because I was already out the door and down the veranda steps. Jezebel was standing at the corner of Main and Oglethorpe.

Oglethorpe is the street where Jez worked at 'Guns and Junk.' 'Jay and J, Prop.' I was actually expecting her ... even pleased she was there.

"Hi, Jez. You're looking mighty fetching this fine afternoon."

And she was. Skin tight camel toe shorts, boat shoes and a bandana halter top. That top didn't halt a single bounce or wobble. I wondered how she tied the corners behind her back. As she turned to walk with me I saw six inches of elastic sewn to one of the two bottom corners of the bandana and a hook and eye sewn to the other ... it wasn't enough.

That top didn't cover the sides of her marvelous bosom. It was so tight it performed the task it was designed to do ... I got a woody. She saw it and her nipples stretched the fabric just short of the ripping point.

"Well, come on if your coming."

That drew a blush all the way to her nipples.

"If you get any more excited, you're going to have to borrow my shirt 'cause you're about to bust out of that top." I grinned.

She hit my arm with the pun and that set up the nicest display of top bobble I'd seen since I went to the Egyptian Bellydance Club and Restaurant in Windsor, Ontario. I reached out one little finger and barely slipped it behind the fabric. The fabric struggled to stay put but it failed. Her left nipple popped out. The fabric slid across the rest of the breast and ended up in the cleavage. Like all the "J's" she was a defier of gravity. Quiver, bounce and wobble? Yes! Sag? No!

Fashion dictates the pencil test; lift the breast, slide a pencil in the cleft and let the breast settle. If the pencil falls out there's no sag. I've known women who could hold up a bowling pin.

"Go home and put something on, I'll wait."

She gave me a look...

"I love watching, I like you better than the rest of the girls. You don't need to dress 'Look at Me.' I already do. I'm impressed. Go cover up so I don't have to be jealous."

"Jealous?"

"Yup, I don't want other guys to think you're offering."