Chapter 72

I slept on the lounge chair for an exceptionally long time, considering that it wasn’t even noon yet. But then again, tickle attacks and four-on-one blowjobs can take a lot of energy out of a man.

When I woke up, I was surprised to find myself in the backyard, but I was relieved my body had been covered in shadows the whole time. That was a good thing, because except for my shirt I was naked as a jaybird, and I hadn’t put any suntan lotion on either.

I had to move back through some extremely pleasurable and arousing memories, trying to figure out what happened to my clothes. I still wore a shirt, but my shoes and shorts were nowhere to be seen. I recalled walking out here in them, and having my shorts pulled down to my knees, but that was all I could remember. I finally concluded the Hellions must have taken them from me at some point.

I decided, It doesn’t matter much though. It’s not like it would be some kind of scandal if any of them saw my penis. Ha! Jesus H. Christ on a pogo stick, the surprising thing is I didn’t wake up to find a couple of them with their lips still attached to my shaft like unshakable leeches! Seriously!

Amused at that thought, I stood up, stripped off my shirt, and took a very quick dip in the pool. Then I dried off, put my shirt back on, and walked back into the house.

I went about doing some errands in the kitchen and living room without any shorts or underwear. If I wanted more clothes I had to go back up to my room, and that meant going close by Michelle’s room. Assuming all or most of my cock slaves were still in there, that was a dangerous proposition. Odds were they would try to seduce me. My penis and the rest of me were in no shape to test if that was true, especially since they’d probably succeed.

I knew I’d have to go up there sooner or later, but I preferred later. There were a lot of small errands that needed doing downstairs, including washing the dishes from breakfast and cleaning the kitchen. Life goes on. I soon found myself sitting on a couch out in the living room, absorbed in an issue of Newsweek.

I’d pretty much forgotten that I was naked from the waist down, especially since my shirt hung down and covered my privates most of the time. I avidly keep up with current events, and love reading in general, so, before long, I’d forgotten about my four cock slaves upstairs.

However, they hadn’t forgotten about me. Eventually, I heard and saw Sue Ellen and Cindy walking down the stairs.

They saw me and waved. “Howdy, Master,” Sue Ellen said.

It was weird - I was starting to think of myself as “Master.” I didn’t react to that any differently than if she’d said, “Howdy, Dan.”

Both of them were dressed, but only just. Sue Ellen was wearing some short shorts that I swear hung down on her hips so low that one could almost see the top of her pussy lips. She also wore a white T-shirt tied in a knot between her boobs. It was so thin that it might as well have been soaking wet, because I could see her nipples and everything else. She had a sexy Daisy Duke look befitting her Southern background.

Cindy’s outfit didn’t cover her body any more than Sue Ellen’s did. She wore a frilly white bra and thong set, white high heels, and nothing else. And, if anything, her undies were even more transparent than Sue Ellen’s T-shirt. Not that it mattered much, since they covered so little in the first place. For instance, the bra reached up and covered her nipples, but it looked like that would only last until she took a heavy breath, since the fabric quickly sloped away on either side.

I gasped a little when they walked right up to me. I tried hard to stay calm. However, I consoled myself that it was only Sue Ellen and Cindy after all. They were kind, good, and obedient, and not a bundle of trouble like the Gruesome Twosome, who apparently remained up in Michelle’s room.

As Sue Ellen walked past me, she asked, “What’cha readin’?”

“Oh, just Newsweek. They’ve got a big article on how the brain ... Hey, what are you doing?”

She’d walked past me, but she didn’t keep going. She circled around, and put her hands on my shoulders. “I thought you’d feel better if I give you a massage. After all, you’re my master and it’s my duty to please you. Would you like that?”

I should have said ‘no, ‘ but as she was explaining, her fingers were already digging into my flesh, and it felt great. So I said, “Well, okay, but no funny stuff. I’m still recovering from earlier.”

“Yes, Master,” she said breathlessly, like she’d just been given a big prize.

I have to admit, it was pretty easy to have this “master” stuff go to your head. My penis was already hardening from watching them walk to me in their sexy outfits, and my dick lurched to full attention when I heard her say that.

Cindy was standing in front of me, her hip cocked in a sexy pose I particularly loved. So I asked her, “What brings you down here? And shouldn’t you put some clothes on?”

She giggled and pointed at my crotch. “I should ask you the same question. Not that I mind in the least.”

I looked down and saw my erection pointing straight up. It had moved my shirt out of the way in its earnest desire to be freed. I quickly covered up by tugging my shirt back over it, but it still poked lewdly through the fabric, making an obscene bulge no matter what I did. I tried angling it down towards my legs instead, but it went too far down for my shirt to cover all of it. That hadn’t been a problem when it was flaccid, but the extra inches made all the difference.

Cindy saw my dilemma, and teased, “Uh-oh! Looks like you’ve got yourself in a little pickle. Would you like me to hold it?”

“No thank you!” I said firmly. “Now’s not the time for that kind of fun.”

“It’s not a little pickle,” Sue Ellen said behind me in a saucy, teasing voice. “It’s a big one!” She giggled. She said that right in my ear, and licked it a bit before pulling back to continue her massage.

Cindy giggled too. “It is! Big AND tasty!”

Trying to divert the discussion, and still covering my erection with my hands, I asked her, “What brings you down here?”

Cindy had managed to sit in between my knees, although she wasn’t touching me anywhere (yet!). The mere thought of a hottie like her in that position would have given me a raging boner if I didn’t have one already. I could see I was getting into hot water.

She answered, “Oh, just getting some lunch. It’s almost one o’clock already, you know.”

That startled me. “It is? Shit! I haven’t done anything constructive yet, and the day’s half over.”

“I object, Master,” Sue Ellen said as her fingers dug in deeply near my neck. “You fucked the faces of a lot of happy cock slaves when you woke up this morning, and then you fucked my pussy so hard and so long that I pretty much couldn’t tell up from down. Then, outside, you forced all four of your slaves to suck your cock so hard and so long...”

She sighed dreamily. “Mmmm ... Hard and long and thick ... that you pretty much gave all of us no choice but to admit, once again, why you’re the master and we’re nothing but your SLAVES, dedicated with every fiber of our being to pleasuring you! And then, as if that wasn’t enough, you covered all of us with your delicious cum! Our tits AND our faces! If that wasn’t a productive morning, then I don’t know what is!”

I grumbled, “I think we have different definitions of productive. If you measure production by the amount of cum deposited-”

“I do!” she cut in giggling, again showing her humor.

I really was in a fix. I was growing more aroused by the moment, and I couldn’t see any way out. (Of course, I could have just walked away, but Sue Ellen had me melting into the couch with her terrific massage.) However, I still had a big advantage: with my hands covering my erection, any attempts at serious hanky panky would be foiled. So I was determined to keep my hands where they were.

Again trying to divert attention, I asked Cindy, “Where’s the Gruesome Twosome?”

“Oh, they’re still practicing.”

I fell into the trap like a lamb being led to slaughter. “Practicing what?”

Her eyes lit up. “Would you like me to show you? We’ve all been doing it. I can show you right now, and don’t worry, it doesn’t involve stroking or sucking your big cock.” She giggled.

I said, “Well, okay,” but my hope that it wasn’t something sexual was dashed pretty much even before I’d finished saying “okay.”

She hopped up on me, straddling my upper thighs. She literally flopped her blonde hair down into my face, temporarily obscuring my vision.

Distressed, I asked, “Just what were you all practicing?!”

“Lap dances!” she said happily.

“Figures,” I grumbled, feeling chagrined and tricked (but not feeling THAT upset about it, to be honest). I noticed Sue Ellen had stopped her massage, and quickly found out why. She’d gone to the stereo and put in a CD. A Motown and soul mix began, with Martha and the Vandellas singing “(Love Is Like a) Heat Wave” to a bouncy beat.

I had half a mind to put a stop to their shenanigans, but Cindy said, “Remember, in a typical lap dance, there are rules, so things don’t go too far.”

That’s true, I thought to myself. Not that I’d ever experienced one. I’d considered going to a titty bar a form of cheating. That was ironic, considering the kinds of things I was doing without my wife on a daily basis these days. But a lap dance was supposed to just get a customer worked up without actually getting him to cum, and I figured I could deal with that.

I should have paid more attention to her exact wording. I swear, it was starting to get where I needed a lawyer to parse everything said to me in my own house. There was a lot of clever wording these days to avoid outright lying. Technically, Cindy didn’t lie: in a typical lap dance, there are rules, but she never said this was a typical lap dance!

I felt Sue Ellen’s hands settle back on my shoulders, and she resumed massaging me. That was reassuring. She’d been very quick indeed getting to the CD player and back.

Then Cindy pulled her hair back, revealing that she’d taken her bra off. Well, not exactly off. She’d pulled the straps down her shoulders, freeing her magnificent orbs from the bra, but leaving it there as a shelf to support their weight and to cause them to jut out almost as much as Michelle’s did without any help at all.

It was too late for me to complain though, because Cindy started going wild all over me. It was hard to describe, but she was basically vigorously dancing, except she was sitting in my lap! It was so active and almost violent that I brought my hands up at one point to make sure she didn’t fall off the couch altogether.

That turned out to be a big mistake, because it left my erection temporarily unoccupied and poking up. She quickly took advantage. She continued her gyrations, except she rested her weight right on top of my pole, and gyrated all over it! And her big melons bounced around wildly, practically right in my face.

I gasped, “Uh, Cindy, you promised! You promised you wouldn’t touch my dick!”

“I’m not! It’s touching my panties instead! Besides, I only promised no stroking or sucking!” Her head and hair swung around wildly as she spoke. Then she suddenly collapsed against me, covering my chest with the warmth of her creamy tits. But that only lasted a few seconds before she was back up and gyrating her sexy ass all over my desperate erection.

With everything else distracting me, I didn’t really notice that Sue Ellen’s massaging motions had turned into sexual caresses. And she was very busy licking my ears, switching back and forth between them. Let me say, licking an ear doesn’t sound like much, but if done right, it’s pretty damn arousing, in and of itself.

It was being done right, that’s for sure.

I don’t like to be tricked, so I complained to Cindy, “That’s a technicality. The way you’re going, you might as well not be wearing panties at all!”

“Oh really? You’re right! Good suggestion!”

“Hey! Wait!” But by the time I’d said that, she already had her panties sliding down her legs. Seconds later, she flung them behind her.

Now, she resumed her “dance,” but focused on grinding her wet pussy on my erection. It was so arousing, we might as well have been fucking. It occurred to me that if I said that observation out loud, she’d probably say “Good suggestion” again, and we’d be fucking like rabbits within seconds.

Cindy kept right on grinding and dancing on and over me. She was doing it all in time to the beat too. In fact, the next song was “See Saw,” by Aretha Franklin, and every time the song got to the chorus, “I’m going up, down, and all around, just like a see saw,” she did exactly that, right on my cock! I really liked the “all around” part, because she’d swirl her head in a big circle, causing her hair to fly in cascades of shimmering beauty like a model in a shampoo commercial. Well, a model in a shampoo commercial who happened to be relentlessly grinding her sexy, smokin’ hot pussy on your cock!

By this time, I’d pretty much given up all pretense of fighting the lap dance, so I settled back to enjoy it to its fullest. Technically speaking, it wasn’t really a lap dance, since there were certain rules with lap dances, and she was doing whatever she wanted to do. For instance, she was suddenly filled with the urge to scoot back, bend over, and slide my erection through her cleavage, and she did just that.

Although that felt great, it actually was a respite for my stiff erection, relative to her incredibly arousing grinding before. So, during this “calm,” I said to her, “Cin, I’m amazed. What happened to the mother and housewife I knew of a few days ago, who was a little worn down and sad?”

“She’s gone!” she said happily. “She’s dead and gone! She’s been replaced by a dutiful, loving, and obedient cock slave! That’s what you’ve done to me, Dan. I still have trouble calling you ‘Master, ‘ especially around the others, but that’s what you are! You’re my lord and master! There, I said it! My GOD, it feels too fuckin’ good to have the fat King sliding between my tits!”

Sue Ellen joked from behind me as she made love to my left ear, “We all like to think your cock is the older ‘Las Vegas’ Elvis with sideburns, since he’s so fat and thick!”

“I know,” I said between pants, since I’d been told this recently. I had a brief mental image of my penis wearing sideburns and the dark sunglasses the later Elvis was known for. I thought that was pretty bizarre, but then it occurred to me it was no less bizarre than everything else happening in my life.

For some reason, I felt the need to keep talking, even as my erection died and went to heaven deep in Cindy’s cleavage. I said, “Cin, you look and feel younger. Revitalized.”

She had a hearty laugh. “I wonder why that is! Could it be I no longer have to hide my love for the only man I’ve ever truly loved? Could it be that he loves me too, and he’s proving it by fucking my tits, even as we speak? I think so!” She laughed gaily some more. “You have no idea how fuckin’ HAPPY I am! I love you!”

And with that, the brief titfuck came to an end, because she was suddenly up on me and kissing my lips. It was like she was desperate for oxygen, and the only way she could get it was to stick her tongue all the way down my throat.

But that didn’t last long, because apparently that wasn’t enough for her either. She readjusted again, sliding back down me, and the next thing I knew, my erection had completely disappeared, balls-deep into her steaming hot slit!

If I hadn’t felt it happening, I would have known what she was doing just by hearing her groan lustily as her face contorted with the effort it took for her pussy to accommodate my girth. I must say, there are very few things more arousing than watching a woman struggle on top of you to embrace the thickness of your penis with her body and soul.

Had she started bouncing like an overexcited kangaroo, I would have climaxed in much less than a minute. Luckily for me, she didn’t. She was content to feel me fully impaled in her for a while. That was a good thing for her too, because she needed time to adjust herself and get comfortable with feeling me stretching her out inside.

At the same time, Sue Ellen was getting a bit more aggressive. She’d draped herself over the back of the couch, so her tummy was resting on my left shoulder and her tits were hanging down over me. This enabled her to kiss my face, which she was doing.

Even though Cindy could clearly see that Sue Ellen was practically breathing on her, she was getting all sentimental on me. “Dan, please. Tell me the truth. Do you really love me?”

I answered honestly. “Yes, and no. I’ve always loved you in a way, but if you say I’m the only man you’ve ever loved, then maybe it’s not the same as how you love me. I’ve lusted after you, certainly, and loved you as a friend, but I’ve never allowed myself to completely let my feelings for you run free, due to my feelings for Mindy. Lately, that’s all changing. I’d be very happy if you’d be a part of the Cooper family until we’re all old and gray, and die together.”

She started to cry.

I thought, Shit! Why do women always cry so damn much? I guess I was too honest. Shit!

But she said, “Dan! That was so beautiful! That was the best I could ever hope for. Yes! Yes, yes, yes! I will be happy to be a part of the Cooper family until we die! And I don’t mind if it’s as a cock slave. In fact, I love it! Just like I love that you’ve enslaved my daughter too, so we can all be together! Let me prove to you that you picked a good slave!”

And just like that, the teary mood was gone, replaced by a purely lusty one. If one could take the sultry look she was giving me and bottle it and sell it, one would be able to buy the whole world with the profits from the ultimate aphrodisiac. The killer was that it wasn’t just a look of lust, it was also a look of profound love.

Still staring at me like that, she lifted herself up a bit and resumed her hip churning motions from the lap dance. Only now she was grinding while I was deep within her, instead of just under her. And while the Motown and soul CD was still playing, she wasn’t paying attention to it. She was moving to a steady rhythm of her own which flowed from her heartbeat.

Luckily, that happened to be a slow rhythm, so I could deal with her sexy churning, at least for now. She really knew how to move her hips, constantly surprising my hard-on with slight variations.

So that’s how we were, with my T-shirt apparently the only item of clothes still on any of us, when Michelle and Ruby strolled down the stairs.