Chapter 40: Homecomings

A weary Mickey McKellar tried not to make a sound as he stepped into his familiar entry hall, but the clink of his keys in the bowl by the door sounded like the gong of a church bell to him in his current hyper-aware state. He glanced down at his stained slacks; his cock was straining against the material – still! – after more sex in this day than he’d ever had in any previous week, or month.

His undershorts were long gone, probably left in the back room of the doughnut shop. He would have thought his drive and desire would have been left there as well – after all, he’d satisfied and left drooling three women who varied in age from 20 to 45.

He sighed as he reminded himself again that he was arriving at the residence of three horny women in their sexual prime, all fueled by – what? – the same desire that drove him? He stood still, listening.

Nothing.

He held his breath, waiting for the sound of footsteps, or an orgasmic cry, or someone calling out “Daddy!”

Nothing.

His cock twitched in anticipation. If there was no one at home, simply, he’d have to go back out and find someone who he could fuck all night. He brain did not try to process this need; by now, he was much more sex machine than cop.

Either way, he had to change out of these pants and maybe find some clean clothes. The semen-stained, sweaty clothes he currently wore went straight into the garbage. Mickey realized earlier this day that he had no qualms about walking around nude, so he followed his engorged cock into the kitchen to find a meal worthy of his day’s calorie burn. He found it in the form of a leftover slab of lasagna. He popped it in the microwave, popped open a beer and sat down at the kitchen table to enjoy his wife’s cooking. He amused himself by dropping his cloth napkin over his cock and considered how it looked like a friendly ghost in his lap.

He was savoring the taste when his cell phone rang – in his pants, in the trash. He actually used the napkin to fish the rank things out of the garbage and fished out his phone with two fingers.

“McKinnon,” he said wearily.

“Dad, this is Jacy,” came the familiar voice from an unfamiliar phone number. “Where are you?”

“Sweetheart, I’m sitting in our kitchen eating mom’s lasagna. Where the hell are you, and where is everybody else, for that matter?” he said, realizing in mid-sentence he was angry at their absence.

“We’re at the police station,” she said. “We were worried. You were due home hours ago and you didn’t answer your phone for hours.”

“I was busy,” he said tersely.

“Yes, sir. We’ve heard. Congratulations,” she said with any apparent emotion. “I worried I might have worn you out earlier.”

“Apparently not,” he replied.

“Apparently not,” she echoed. “Well, finish your dinner and we’ll see you soon.”

“How soon?” Mickey challenged her.

“We’re headed home now, daddy. All of us,” she said, breaking off the connection before he could respond.

Back at the Arnovsky house, Jacy made another call.

“He’s there. Good luck,” she said.

“Please let me talk to Miss Castle,” came the voice at the other end. Without a word, Jacy handed the phone to her teacher, who was sitting nude in Missy Arnovsky’s lap.

“It’s gonna be all right, Colleen. You’ve been programmed. You’re gonna love sex,” said the teacher.

The voice at the end was silent for the moment, so Susan ended the call and handed the phone back to Chuck, who was trying to contain his excitement after I’d allowed him to again have partial control of the Program.

“The virgin has landed,” said Cassandra, who was sitting alongside Joanie with Michaela reclined nude across their laps.

“Cherry, here he comes,” Chuck Arnovsky said, hitting one last button.

Mickey swore softly to himself and had returned to his dinner when a strange voice stopped him in mid-mouthful.

“Do you need any help with that?” came a young-sounding voice from behind him. Instinctively reaching for his gun, he found only his bare leg.

“So, are you armed?” he asked, staring straight ahead.

“I’ve been told I’m pretty disarming,” she said. Only then did Mickey turn around, and he discovered a cute, pretty even, blonde teenager standing in his kitchen, wearing only a modest matching baby blue bra and panties set. “Are you Detective McKinnon?”

“Uh, yeah,” he managed, telling himself that she had the disarming part night. Barely over five feet tall, all legs, it only took a moment for him to remember she was one of Susan Castle’s junior dancers.

Which meant, he knew, she was part of the Master PC plan, and therefore fair game.

He removed his napkin/ghost, and drew the expected gasp from his house guest.

“So was brings you to my house, uh, Colleen, is it?” he asked, making no attempt to cover himself.

“Yes, sir. Colleen,” she said, not looking away or flinching. “Your daughter invited me over to ... do homework. Yeah, homework.”

“In your underwear?” Mickey asked, even as he felt blood rushing into his penis.

“Well, yes, sir. We dancers do a lot of things in our underwear these days,” said, moving gracefully into the kitchen. “May I sit down please?”

Mickey nodded, and she eased into the kitchen chair next to him, but in the same motion took a firm hold of his cock.

“So what subject is this?” Mickey asked.

“Math,” she replied, looking him straight in the eye. “The equation is 14 will get you 20 but 15 will get you laid.”

“Depends on whether you’re using a calculator or a computer,” he began. But he was unable to form his next sentence.

She lowered her mouth onto his cock and nearly took it all in the first attempt. Mickey moaned and threw his head back. Just that quickly, he quit wondering when his family would return.

When he found his voice, he commanded, “Take off your bra.”

With her bobbing head keeping perfect time, she reached around with both hands and removed it in an effortless motion. She revealed a pair of big puffy nipples on a tiny set of breasts – and Mickey immediately seized upon her bite-size nips. He leaned into the neck of the young girl – who smelled wonderful, he thought – and whispered in her ear.

“Take your cell phone and call Castle right fucking now,” he said softly, but he punctuated his comment with a rough pinch of one nipple. She stumbled over to where she’d initially shed her clothes, fumbled the phone momentarily, but now truly scared, she speed-dialed her teacher.

“Susan Castle,” came the familiar but young-sounding voice. Mickey grabbed the phone away from Colleen as the young girl cowered.

“Teach? Mickey McKinnon here. What the fuck are you doing?” he growled. His other hand, however, maintained a firm grip on her nip.

“How has she been, Mickey?” Susan replied, apparently ignoring the question.

“Too damn good for someone her age,” he replied. “I was ready to drive it home when I realized that she was here to get broken in. How in the hell are you taking in virgins?”

“Because they can dance like motherfuckers,” Castle snapped back. “Have you watched that little vixen move?”

“Not a dance critic,” he said. “Will she turn me on?”

“If she doesn’t, you’re either gay or dead,” the dance teacher said confidently. “I was going to touch base with you, get a report, but I also wanted the element of surprise.”

“Consider me surprised,” he said, terminating the call. “Hey, Colleen, do you think you can stop sucking my dick long enough to show me some of your moves?”

“Sure!” she said cheerfully as Mickey’s cock slid out of her mouth with a pop! She made a smooth transition to a classic ballet pose, then – without so much as a note of music to accompany her – Colleen did an amazing series of moves that seemed to incorporate both an Irish jig and classical ballet.

Mickey, stroking his own cock, was captivated. In a routine that belied her age – and the absurdity of the circumstance – Colleen performed a solo dance routine that thrilled him almost as much as it did to watch his daughters perform. When she finished, he stood and applauded, not mindful of his semi-erection waving its approval.

Colleen finished her elegant bow, looked at her audience and giggled.

“I forget to finish what I started,” she said, quickly kneeling to do just that. Soon, both she and Mickey were finished, and Colleen had passed her audition. And, Mickey told himself happily, she was still a virgin.

It had been months since Nicky had enjoyed sex with her former roommate. And Cassie wasted no time reminding her that she had been the dominant one.

But sex wasn’t on Nicky’s mind at the moment. Something even more important in her life was on her mind.

“As soon as I saw these amazing photos, I knew I had to come over and show them to you!” Nicky gushed as she laid the big portfolio on Cassie’s massive bed and started spreading out the oversized photos like so many playing cards. The first few had the trim dancer in a tiny black dress and matching heels, and they drew a “yum!” from her longtime friend and sometime lover.

But the dress soon came off and Nicky was posing in a stark studio in a variety of nude images – from behind, close-ups, and the one that made Cassie come a little beneath her own tiny evening dress, kneeling.

“You know, kiddo, I’m not exactly dressed for staying in and reminiscing,” Cassie said. Standing before her friend with arms outstretched. “You’re dressed up awfully nice, too. I think we ought to go out dancing, like old times.”

“Ooh, that sounds like such a good idea!” Nicky gushed. “Only thing is, I came over from the last session, and I’m not wearing anything under this dress. Without a word, Cassie raised the hem of her insanely short skirt to reveal her own neatly trimmed pussy.

“That makes two of us,” she purred. “On second thought...”

She pulled Nicky over onto the bed atop the spread of glossy photos, drawing an initial yelp of protest. But as she slid her friend’s dress off her shoulders and down her lithe body, the sound of indignation was replaced by moans of a familiar growing lust that had been absent from her life of late. In a matter of moments, both girls were naked and those photos that hadn’t been pushed to the floor were getting mangled beneath the two writhing bodies.

“God! It’s been so long!” Nicky gasped as Cassie kissed her throat, working her way down to a waiting nipple. As soon as she felt the familiar shudder of an orgasm, she moved her compliant lover to the bed.