Chapter 78

I drove them to their job, and in the car, Ruby started to get a bit talkative. “Daddy, I think you’re totally wrong about this dating boys thing.”

I frowned and rolled my eyes. “Can we please not talk about that right now? I think we’re just going to be repeating ourselves.”

“No, wait, hear me out. You’ve got a couple of concerns. One is that both of us marry and have kids. That I don’t have any easy answer to. But the other is you want us to have quote ‘real careers’ unquote. That’s what I want to talk about.”

“Okay,” I said, feeling cautiously hopeful. I briefly looked to Michelle.

She was looking out the window, trying to pretend she wasn’t sitting in the front seat next to me. She was in the front because she had the seat tilted all the way back and was more lying on her side than sitting, so her red ass wouldn’t have to touch the seat.

Ruby continued, “Michelle and I have been thinking about what kinds of jobs we could have that would allow us to stay at home most of the time, so it wouldn’t conflict with our extensive cock pleasing duties.”

Michelle bitterly commented, while still staring away, “Not that it matters, since he doesn’t even want us. All I want to do is slurp and bob and choke on his great big cock all day long, but does he want that? Do he even appreciate it? NoooOOOoooo!”

“Not true,” Ruby replied. “He’s just filled with antiquated, misguided notions about what normal is. Girl, you gotta have faith that everything’s gonna get better.”

Michelle just silently stewed while staring at the passing cars.

Ruby then said to me, “Anyway, Daddy, as you know, I’m a pretty good singer. And a good dancer too. And I’ve never told you this, or anyone else for that matter except for Michelle of course, but I don’t just write erotic lyrics to famous songs. I write some pretty good songs of my own too. So, all that, plus my big breasts and my looks in general, I figure I could try to be some kind of professional singer. And as for Michelle, you know she’s a really talented artist. So we’re thinking we could both go into the arts. What do you think?” She looked at me expectantly.

Even Michelle turned to gauge my reaction, even though it obviously pained her ass as she moved around.

I thought about all that, and then expressed my sincere thoughts. “Hmmm. Those are some possible ideas. Both of you do have a lot of really great natural talents, which is one reason why it distresses me so much that you’d be happy to throw away all ambition and be nothing but cock slaves.”

Michelle’s face turned into an agonized grimace. She clutched air in front of her like she was in her death throes. “ARRRRGH! GRRR! Daddy, you’re so frustrating! We wouldn’t be ‘throwing away all ambition’ ... that IS our ambition! Nothing could make us happier than to serve your cock, and isn’t that the ideal job, to find something you truly love? GRRRR!”

I said, “Well, that may be true, as far as these things go, but you’d still need to find some way of making money to live, and there’s no pay at all in being my cock slaves.”

“There’s the cum,” Ruby said semi-jokingly. She wiggled her eyebrows and licked her lips.

“Yeah!” Michelle said brightly. “We get paid in lots and lots of yummy cum!” But then she remembered she was supposed to be mad at me, and she tried to force a scowl on her face.

I was going to say something about how they couldn’t live on cum, but then I realized that wasn’t wise. Either they’d argue they could, or they’d get all dreamy eyed just thinking about it. Instead, I continued, “And as far as being a singer or painter, you usually have to pay a lot of dues working for next to nothing before you get any kind of break. That is, if you get a break, which almost never happens.”

Michelle went back to looking out the window, scowling. But she remained engaged in the conversation. She waved a hand dismissively. “That’s true for normal people, but not us. With our extraordinary looks we’ll get all the breaks, and you know it. And if there’s any money problems, we can just do a little modeling here and there. And it doesn’t have to be anything big, either. We can be foot or hand models for a Sears catalog or something. With our flawless and curvy bodies, the possibilities are endless. Money will never be a problem. We could make more in a couple days of G-rated modeling than a whole summer working at this crap video store job, if you’d only let us.”

I considered that. I was secretly frustrated, because they were probably right. But I didn’t want them to go through life just coasting on their looks. “True. Although the music business in particular is so fickle there are no guarantees for anybody. But unfortunately, I worry more that you’re right than that you’re wrong. I’m such a selfish asshole. I’m not fit to be a parent!”

I probably looked as anguished as I felt. Both girls looked at me with great concern. Michelle even put a hand on my shoulder.

Luckily, we were getting to their workplace, so I could pull to the side of the road and try to get my act together. We were still a couple of blocks away, but I wanted to finish this important conversation before we got there.

I sighed, and said, “The problem is, I worry about both of you not being successful, but I also worry about you being TOO successful. Especially you, Ruby. With your voice and looks, yes, you could be a pop star. But what then? If you start to get any level of fame at all, you’ll be swarmed with fans and attention. It’ll become completely impossible for us to keep the harem going. Can you imagine the scandal if we did and got caught? It would be front page news! Heck, even if either or both of you became reasonably successful models, there could be scandal.”

They both frowned sadly at that.

Ruby said, “I know. I’ve thought about that a lot. Actually, I don’t have any desires to be famous or be a star; I just want to love you and be near you. That’s my dream. But maybe there’s some way we could make it work. Like, I could tell everyone I’m afraid of crowds, and just work as a backup singer in studios or something? I dunno! ... Something! I’m just throwing ideas out there.”

I spoke off the top of my head. “You know what I would really love? If there were some way you two could combine your artistic talents, so you could work together and work at home. You both love each other so much and make a great team. What if ... I dunno ... I’m pulling this out of my ass as an example, but what if you wrote a children’s book together? Ruby, with your talent for lyrics and rhyming, you could come up with the words. And Michelle, with your drawing skills, you could illustrate. And that’s something where you could do quite well and even be famous, and yet remain anonymous.”

I added, “Nobody knows what authors look like or care about their personal lives, believe me. I’ve written over a dozen books, and many have been on yearly best seller lists for their genre. And my picture has shown up on the inside cover and even the back cover sometimes, since my publisher thinks my ‘handsome looks’ could help with sales. I’ve done promotional tours and been on the TV and radio, and so on. Yet the ONLY time I EVER had anyone recognize me is when I’ve been somewhere I was supposed to be, like a convention or a bookstore appearance. I can’t recall a single time when someone came up to me from out of the blue and said, ‘Hey, you’re Daniel Cooper, the author.’”

Ruby replied with surprising emotion, “That’s not true! I’ve seen that sort of thing happen lots of times, like at parties or a church.”

I said, “That’s different, because those are cases where someone knew me and then pointed me out to someone else who then decided to talk to me. That’s not at all like a total stranger who didn’t get any sort of tip off.”

Ruby reluctantly conceded, “I suppose.”

I said, “That aside, what do you think about my children’s books suggestion?”

Both seemed quite intrigued by that idea. I looked back and forth between them and could practically see the wheels turning in their heads.

Surprisingly, Ruby spoke first. “I like it! A whole bunch!”

Michelle said enthusiastically, “Me too! And, if we did that, we could follow in our Daddy’s footsteps as authors. Wouldn’t that be cool, Ruby?”

“Way cool!”

“Well, it’s just one idea out of many,” I said. “That’s the first thing that just popped into my mind. There are a lot of ways to use the artistic talents you both have. I’m sure that, if we brainstorm, we can think of even more.”

They both hugged me (or as much as they could in a car), and gushed over what great ideas I had. Then they both moved in to kiss me at the same time, but they also caught themselves at the same time, and held back.

Michelle’s joyous smile turned sour, although she couldn’t completely hide her excitement. “I’m supposed to be mad at you, you know,” she griped, but in a playful way. She still sat in a way that kept most of her hurting ass off the seat.

Ruby added, “How can we stay mad at you, Daddy? That’s the best idea ever! I wish I could squeeze in there under the steering wheel and just suck that big fat cock of yours for so many-”

Michelle cut in, “Hold it! Ruby, you know how much we both long to do that, but we have to be strong. We’re at war, remember? Don’t think about his fat knob totally filling your mouth, or how good it would feel to slide your lips all over his sweet spot. Especially don’t think about the joy of his hot cum splattering all over your skin or down your throat. Be strong! Remember the filthy boys who want to touch our private places?”

“Oh yeah. Yuck!” Ruby slapped the top of my head from her spot in the back seat. “Shame on you!”

I dropped them off not long after that.

I think all three of us left each other in much better moods. It was particularly amusing watching Michelle walk away. She was sort of skipping joyously, but at the same time staggering or limping from the harsh spanking. It resulted in a sort of happy lurching. I trusted she’d give a good excuse if someone asked her about it, but I did worry there might be a perception problem if I had to keep giving her harsh spankings like that.

Back at home, I spent to rest of the afternoon doing some actual work on my novels. With everyone else out of the house, I was shockingly free of distractions. However, I knew I only had a few hours until dinner, and that wasn’t enough time to get into a good writing groove on my harem-swashbuckler novel. So I used most of the time to do more research and take notes on what I found. Some of the research was on daily life in the Roman Empire for my most popular Centurion series. I needed to start work on the next sequel in that series, since that was my main “bread and butter,” and I usually worked on two or even three novels at once.

But I also did some research on Middle Eastern harems to help me write more about John and his adventures with Morgana and Roxanna. I must admit that I was particularly interested in that, because I had a feeling what I learned could actually be applicable to my real life harem situation. However, what I learned was depressing. It seemed most harems of that time and region were fairly miserable places for the women involved. There was constant intriguing and backstabbing, to the point that it practically seemed as if there were more murders than actual sex. Of course, much of that was a bias about what got most written about. Still, the main practical lessons I was learning were more of how NOT to run a harem.

With no immediate problems at hand, I also had a chance to talk to Mindy about something on my mind when she came home. With just the two of us out in the back patio, enjoying watching the sun set (over the trees, though we couldn’t it see go down over the ocean from here), I answered her questions about what I’d done and worked on all day.

Then I said, “Min, I’ve got a question. How do you think all this sex craziness came to be? I know you’ve said that you only recently realized that you’re a cucquean, but weren’t there some kinds of hints or signs of that in the years before?”

Her body stiffened, and she looked a bit nervous. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, it seems like a natural condition, like being naturally submissive or dominant. You’ve said you started feeling that way in response to being bored with the limits of our sex life. But there are a lot of different ways you could have gone with that. Why the cucquean route? Did you maybe have some fantasies or dreams or secret desires that go further back?”

I was trying to sound like I was vaguely fishing, but I really wanted her to talk about her cucquean dreams that Michelle had revealed to me. At the very least, I wanted to see if Michelle was being honest about all that, and also find out how honest my wife would be with me.

She looked exceedingly uncomfortable by that line of discussion, although she tried to hide it. She sipped her glass of sangria as she contemplated and stared into the orange-red cloudy sky. Finally, she said, “To be honest, I did have the occasional dream along those lines. Some daydreams too, if you really want to know.” She looked very abashed.

“I’m not too surprised. How far back?” I was trying to sound mildly amused, and not at all accusatory.

“I don’t remember exactly, but it was well before I started bringing up any threesome ideas with you. I guess you could say that’s where I got the itch for a threesome with another woman in the first place.”

“What were these dreams like? Can you describe one?”

Her face scrunched up in dismay. “I was afraid you’d ask that. Basically, I had a recurring dream for a while that always followed the same pattern. I’d catch you cheating with some beautiful woman, and rather than be appalled, I’d join right in! The rest of the dream would be pretty, er, pornographic.”

She suddenly went from embarrassed to aggressive. She pointed at me, “Mind you, this does NOT mean I’d ever approve of you cheating on me! Period! I think it’s just that, back then, I assumed all sex you’d have with anyone but me was cheating. But slowly, over time, my dreams changed. Oftentimes, we’d start in bed without any shocking discoveries, or, er ... Well, never mind.”

“What?” I asked eagerly. “You know you can’t do that, just start to say something and then say ‘never mind.’ Things have changed. I can spank the truth out of you!”

She grinned at me wickedly. “Oh, you think you can, do you? We’ll see about that. But in any case, there were dreams where ... let’s just say we seduced a particular woman together. Or ... Sometimes I...” She suddenly buried her face in her hands.

“What?!”

“No! Please don’t ask me! It’s too embarrassing!”

That really intrigued me, naturally. I figured it had something to do with her lesbian urges. I decided not to press her about it for now. Instead, I asked, “Who were these women in your dreams? Do I know any of them?”

Relieved at the shift of topic, she took her hands from her face and sipped on her sangria. “Oh yes. They were always real people we knew. Women like Jane Corlin, Delilah Jensen, and even Cindy. Especially Cindy, in fact. Basically, if there were any beautiful women in our lives who showed an interest in you, and there are, you’ve fucked ‘em already in my dreams! Lots of times! Unfortunately, just in my dreams though!” She stuck her tongue out at me playfully.

I said sincerely, “I’m kind of chagrined, because it sounds like your dreams were a lot more arousing than mine.”

“They probably were. Really graphic and vivid stuff. When I see a someone like Jane in real life, I feel a bit funny, because it’s like I’ve seen her and felt her naked body already.” A worried look crossed her face, probably fearing I’d ask more about that woman-on-woman touching. But she quickly continued, “Gaawwwd, that woman has such a body! And such a face. She looks even better naked, I’ll have you know.”

I asked, “Have you seen her naked, for real?”

She frowned. “Sadly, no. Not in anything less than a bikini. But that’s the great thing about dreams. I can take her absolutely gi-normous breasts, remove the bikini, and add your hands instead! I swear, she might be even more stacked than Michelle is! Personality-wise, I doubt she’d be a good fit for the harem. But you should totally fuck the shit out of her! And especially titfuck her! For real. And often! You’ve done that plenty of times in my dreams already.”

I grumbled, “Damn. I wish I had more of your dreams. She’s hardly ever appeared in my dreams, maybe because it would feel too much like cheating. I certainly don’t even recall titfucking her.”

She smirked knowingly. “That’s gonna change, believe me. And I’m not just talking about dreams. Now that I’m a card-carrying cucquean-”

I laughed. “They have cards?”

She ran with that. “Oh yes! They’re laminated, and everything. I’m a full-fledged member of the National Totally Sex-mad Cucquean Union! Or C.U.N.T.S. for short. I know, I know, it should be N.T.S.C.U., but we’re dyslexic spellers. You should hear when I talk about you and your harem in our union meetings. There’s not a dry seat in the house!”

After we had a good laugh about that, she continued, “Seriously though, why feel left out? Why not just go out and fuck the SHIT out of those women? Okay, not Delilah and the others who are married, but there are plenty of great non-married ones you need to bone. I’ll give you my full approval, so it’s not cheating. Think about a woman like Jane. She’s sexy, big-titted, and never married. In fact, she’d make a great mistress for you. If not even a full-on cock slave!”

I complained, “I thought you just said her personality made her a bad fit for the harem?”

“I know, but that was then. A full minute or two ago. I’m getting horny thinking about it, so I’m changing my mind!”

I laughed.

“Personality, schmersonality. I’d just love to see her big jugs swinging as she crawls to you on all fours, begging for you to shoot another thick, creamy load all over her face! Can you imagine going to the next neighborhood party and seeing her in one of her regal, low-cut sequin dresses, only to have her furtively whisk you away to a private bedroom so she can strip naked and greet you with a long slurpy blowjob and titfuck combo? As any good mistress should!”

I interrupted, “Whoa! Stop right there! That is NOT happening! Can’t you see I’m totally happy with our current situation? What on Earth would I need a mistress for, when I have four cock slaves already?”

“Hmmm. Good point.”

I thought she might back down, but I was wrong.

She smirked, knowing full well what she was about to say would annoy me. “You’re right - it’s better to make her another cock slave then.”

That turned into an argument of sorts. I was a bit regretful about bringing the topic up in the first place, because now Mindy was all gung-ho to get Jane and me together. She kept suggesting she needed “more help keeping the King happy while the Gruesome Twosome are on strike.”

She was so graphic with some of her sexual descriptions that I don’t know how I managed to avoid getting erect. Apparently, even after a few non-sexual hours, my penis was still tired out from earlier activities.