Extending the MILF List Ch. 18

Hump Day-Hooker Wednesday

THE PLAYERS:

Sonny Duncan—the narrator and umbrella owner

Hassum Amir—represents a client of Alissa Honeywell's law office whom Sonny must satisfy for a "job"

Melissa Crawford—sister to Alissa Honeywell, has a fantasy to have sex with her nephew and brother-in-law, you do the math.

Alissa Honeywell—Sonny's main MILF, a startlingly beautiful black lawyer

Ellen Collier—a lawyer who works for Alissa Honeywell, redhead, snarky and the main squeeze of...

Sammy Honeywell—Alissa Honeywell's son and one of the original MILF List guys.

Borland Northcutt—enlists Sonny to a project involving his ex-wife...

Carol Lynn Northcutt—Borland Northcutt's ex-wife, blonde, slender, new to this episode of the MILF List.

Imogen Travers—a woman supposedly married to Rictor Travers. Sonny is to have sex with her and her daughter...

Miriam Travers—the daughter (?) of Imogen and Rictor Travers.

Caroline Bickerstaff—ex-wife of Raymond Bickerstaff senior partner at Alissa Honeywell's law firm. She must have sex with Sonny to keep her ex-husband out of jail and to finalize a settlement with the law firm over a case of embezzlement.

Sophocles Bickerstaff—also called Sophia and Sophie, daughter of Raymond and Caroline Bickerstaff

Landon Clark—one of the original five MILF list guys

Rictor Travers—the guy who tried to sexually assault Alissa Honeywell and pissed of Sid Kingston et. al. So he had to surrender his wife and daughter for his trouble.

Extending the MILF List Chapter 18:

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There may be such a thing as coincidences but even then, they need parts to fit together just so. The most complicated coincidences are more involved than just tab A in Slot B and bam! You have a coincidence. It is startling when they happen and even more startling when you decide it is a disaster and then just go limp and let happen whatever is going to happen. Well, not limp exactly, if you're a common male going limp is hardly the best response or any response, but you get my meaning. Wednesday began a series of coincidences that may or may not have been. The end result was lots of pussy for Sonny and, despite my occasional grousing about this abundance raining down around me, well, on me actually, I fucking loved it.

I woke up Wednesday with no inclination to go to school. That wasn't what woke me. My phone did. On that phone was a certain Swish with a Wish.

"Hassum?" I mumbled after his bright as sunshine greeting. "It's snowing I think. Cold as Norwegian hell and it isn't even five o'clock here yet. Why do you sound so wide awake?" I hesitated, finally remembering the door the man represented to me. "What can I do for you, Hassum?" I forgot his last name. I'd have called him Mister Something but that sounds fine unless you're trying to impress them, then not so much.

"Sonny, Sonny, Sonny, never ask what Hassum can do for you, I would if you asked, you know that. Ask what you can do for Hassum. Okay, that is inaccurate. Hassum do wonderful thing for Sonny."

Uh oh.

"What wonderful thing did Hassum do for Sonny?"

"I arrange to put the Travers women in a good mood for you to meet them today. You know they are arriving today, right? You have to go meet them, right?"

"Uh huh." I grunted. I sat up, rubbing my eyes. My intervention with Tawny had left me exhausted. Satisfying her boundless lust for showing off required lots of energy and left me with a distinct deficit.

"Well, I have arranged to put them in a very good mood. You understand that Mr. Travers is unfortunately at a very important position with respect to a certain unnamed project that both my employer and yours are engaged in, deeply engaged and not with adequate prophylactic protections, so they are feeling a fresh breeze where they should only feel cozy and warm."

"In other words, Travers has them over a barrel?"

Hassum laughed.

"Oh no, our employers put other people over barrels, not the other way around. Travers can be replaced by a little red button but it would have expenses that could and likely would put the project in question into a much less lucrative mode. All the trouble would hardly be justified if Travers is not allowed to participate. So, as a penalty for his boorish behavior, you get his wife and daughter." He stopped.

For a moment I had the feeling that he was waiting for me to confess to having met them already but since he didn't ask, I didn't volunteer. I almost stepped into the pause and confessed everything but Hassum's love of his own melodious voice saved me.

"I have arranged a very nice shopping spree for them both this afternoon, after they arrive. I told you about that already." He paused again.

I wasn't fooled this time. He wasn't seeking approval or my involvement at all. I stayed quiet as a mouse stalking the cat.

"Five thousand dollars!" He chortled, pleasure and envy mixed in his voice. "A piece!" He fairly shrieked. "Can you imagine? A five thousand dollar shopping spree!"

"Wonderful." I spoke dourly and blamed the morning. "You already told me about this. So what is so important to interrupt my beauty sleep?"

"You are so male. Shopping cannot be to you what it is the other half of humanity."

"You're right. At this time of day I barely care to try to be even a little empathetic."

"No need. My point in calling you is to tell you that I have informed them each that you are to have them both, before they leave Friday morning."

"Any positions you want me to try out?" I asked as dryly as I was able at that time in the morning.

Hassum laughed.

"Oh, Sonny, you funny man! Very funny man." He sounded just like Annie at her most pidginy. That made me nervous, wondering if all of his accents were put on. Perhaps every affectation was just a flounce and bounce with no springs in the mattress. I didn't like that idea, because I'd have bet a good ass reaming that Hassum was gay as a three-dollar bill.

"Sorry, I'm still asleep."

He sobered right up.

"I wanted you to know I happened to mention to them this morning that I may have let slip about their individual secrets. Neither were pleased." His voice had gone all oily, which made my ears wiggle. I was trying to figure out how that would affect the Travers weather report.

"Mrs. Travers informed me that you offered her a very nice collar. Copper weave I believe she said."

"I didn't want to offer them silver or gold in case I never see them again."

"Oh, I think you'll see them again." His voice sobered.

"Did they tell you what they told me? About why they are here?"

"No. I can't imagine."

"Okay. Just curious." The silence that followed was priceless. When Hassum spoke next, there was real chagrin in his voice.

"Oh my god, Mr. Duncan, are you going to make me plead? Must I ask you to give me the juicy details?"

"You can ask. Do I have to tell you?"

"Of course. I live vicariously through you."

"Hassum, I haven't done anyone's ass since, hmm, let me think. Besides, we'd need to compare notes to determine if the female ass is the same as the male ass."

"Oh, dear boy, you underestimate me. Its not like I have never waded into a woman before."

"So? Is the ass the same?"

Hassum laughed and hung up. I knew he had because the laughing suddenly stopped, unless someone had put a garrote around his neck and loped of his laughing head. I dropped the phone and went back to sleep.

The next call came at about seven or seven-thirty. It was Messy Melissa, Alissa Honeywell's sister.

"Sonny?"

I'd answered the phone, again, from the midst of a very deep sleep that did not involve fucking some train of women with an impossibly constant cock. I was making something with hammer and nails and the nails were too big. Fuck off Sigmund, it was just a dream. Anyway, the phone rang and once I got awake enough to make the thing work right, I heard Melissa Crawford's wheezing voice in my ear. I also heard the bangs and bumps of the blisters downstairs getting ready to go back to work. The thought about them calling Mom to get me to...what? Seduce, fuck, what do you call it when you have sex with a woman so your sister can boink her husband? Commerce? Fair trade?

"Sonny? Sonny! Are you there?"

"Oh, what? Yes, Messy, I'm here."

"You never call, you never write...what's a girl to think?"

"I turned off my ESP to save the battery, so, I give up. What is a girl to think?"

Silence.

I waited.

Finally, after a few thundering heartbeats, she sighed, loudly, right in my ear.

"Sonny, you haven't forgotten, have you?"

"Forgotten what?" Now there is a self-explanatory question if I ever heard one.

"Sonny! Don't make me say it out loud."

"I want to hear you say it out loud. Now you have to. Say it, say it, say it!" I chanted, while frantically searching for what she was going to say to avoid gasping with surprise.

"Sonny! This is serious. I, I lied to Alissa. I told her I wasn't getting in till Saturday morning or afternoon I guess but I'll be there Thursday night."

My dance card was filling up. There's a concept from the 1920s none of us really understands anymore, durable and useful as it is.

"Oh, okay. What time?"

"I have a late flight. It may be midnight or so before I get in."

I groaned. "Want me to pick you up?"

"I need a place to stay, Sonny. I can't go to stay with Alissa because...oh, fuck, I want to fuck Sam and Sammy. Happy? I want to fuck a man and his son."

"Go on. This is getting interesting."

"And I want to have my brother-in-law with my sister at the same time."

"And leave Sammy out of that?"

"That'd be the coup de grace."

"Use another term, that means you get your head chopped off." Or mine, I thought, considering that particular configuration of the ties that bind seemed to have a lot of razor wire included. Ouch.

"The Arc d'Triumpe, then. That okay?"

"Close enough." I shivered and made my teeth rattle together. "I think I'll share you with Sam first, just to get you two acquainted, unless I am missing something."

"No, no, not missing anything. I confess I teased him mercilessly and always just to piss Alissa off. It always worked, poor man. He didn't know where to sit or spin. How are you going to arrange it?"

I wanted to confess I was a little behind on that project plan. I decided not to. I went with the confident operative not brooking doubt in subordinates.

"You don't worry about that. Just make sure all your parts are oiled and in fine working order."

"I am so oiled up, I think I could smuggle a pound of sausage through the airport."

"Don't try that." I chuckled. "If I can't pick you up, can I call you on this number?"

She said that'd be fine. I had half a mind to have Sammy do that but I figured that he'd ride her off into the sunset and I'd have to settle my account with her another time. I had a flash of what Ellen Collier would think of Melissa Crawford. I shivered again, suddenly cold but wanting ever so much to see that. I felt like a mad scientist mixing chemicals before Lavoisier devised the periodic table, all curious and brave. I think it was that French guy. Before that it was all trial and error, mix and duck for cover.

We hung up and I lay back in bed. Without making the conscious decision, I'd blown off classes today. Well, for the rest of the week. I actually had most of the projects done early, papers and the like and I had tests late the next week. I had a landing pad for the pussy falling out of the sky in my schedule and I was loath to reverse whatever dance I did to call this rain. Wow.

The next call was from Suzanne's phone but Borland's voice greeted me.

"Sonny Duncan?"

He sounded so formal, I got a knot in my stomach and a lump in my throat.

"Yes." I said, around them both.

"Borland Northcutt here. I wondered if you could meet me downtown about, say, ten this morning?"

I wanted to ask why. I wanted to but didn't. I don't know why. Borland was one of those men whose very manner makes you want to defer to them, like they know everything and have it all under their control if you just don't swerve out of your lane, things'll work out just fine.

"I suppose I could. Sure."

"You don't have class, do you?"

"Canceled." I said, almost truthfully. I had canceled my attendance after all.

"Fine. See you then."

I had visions of being handed Suzanne for a little servicing and got all wound up. I jumped up and got ready to go. At the last moment I packed a bag, replete with accessories and clean clothes as though I was going on a road trip for the weekend. I recognized my optimism in doing the boy scout thing but better to have it and not need it than need it and not have it. I was on the road before I realized I didn't know where I was going. I was downtown where I could pull off and diddle my phone when I got a text message from Suzanne ne Borland. It told me to meet him...believe it or not, at the Sparrow Garden, the bistro inside The China Sparrow, so that was the first coincidence. I drove there, handed off my car to the Top Hat guys and hurried inside. It was cold as a well digger's belt buckle. I was also early. I went into the restaurant and peered around. I found the back of Borland's head but doubted it because the woman sitting across from him wasn't Suzanne.

I glanced at the time, it was nine-thirty. I scanned the crowd and saw mother and daughter, Imogen and Miriam sitting at their cluttered table, just finishing up. I moonwalked backwards out of sight and then scrambled around to a little alcove where I could watch the restaurant door. I sat down and picked up a newspaper. I tried it out and finally figured out the interface. Fuck, how could you read those things on the train and not just irritate the shit out everyone else.

I held it up so I could just peer over the top. Ten minutes later I saw the Travers women walk out, bubbling with excitement. I have to wonder if shopping makes some women wet. Shit, if shopping can make a woman come, no wonder marriage is in trouble as an institution. The man is getting fucked twice and neither in a good way. Fine, I'm a chauvinist on Wednesdays. It is hump day after all. Can't be much more chauvinist than that, can you? Well, you can but I wasn't really trying that hard, saving my hardness for later as it were. Watching them walk out of the restaurant gave me a thrill because at one perfect point, Imogen Travers turned and I saw clearly the copper choker around her neck. She'd removed the copper chain but the collar was clearly affixed in place. She hadn't changed her mind.

It may have taken me another ten minutes to figure out how to fold up the newspaper. The first time I swear it looked like I'd made one of those sailor hats out of paper from the old movies. How can those things be so fucking complicated! If newspapers want to survive they need to put a little button on them that you can hit and they fold up all by themselves.

I got up and sauntered into the restaurant. I stopped and scanned and damn if Borland wasn't gone. I was about to use the simple interface on my phone to call him when I felt a hand on my elbow.

"Sonny, there you are. Where did you go? I saw you come in but then you disappeared."

"I, uh, I saw you were with someone I didn't recognize and I was early so I thought I should be more on time and less early."

Borland looked dapper, dressed in a dark blue pinstripe suit with a shiny red tie. His white hair was perfect, a surgically straight part, not a hair out of place. It was so perfect it could have been a hat.

"That's my ex-wife. We, we are negotiating and you are right on time. She has to leave. I just wanted to introduce you." He put a hand on my elbow. I half-expected to feel some pointed something in my ribs. I didn't but I felt steered as if there was a gun in my side. "I'm going to introduce you as my new associate, and she'll take that to mean you're my assistant. Let her. I'll explain in a minute. Come along, will you?"

I nodded and went along, though my spine suddenly itched and I wanted to go find a gnarly tree to rub against to get the feeling of little creepy crawling things out from under my skin.

"Carol Lynn? This is Sonny Duncan. He is going to join us."

The woman regarded me with cool eyes. She was blonde but in a blonde way that made Suzanne Northcutt seem like a whole different species of human. Where Suzanne seemed voriciously sexual, this woman seemed like she'd been cut from a very diverse block of stone. Everything about her was in place and perfect. I reflected on this similarity between Borland and Carol Lynn Northcutt, the mother of his children but not his current wife.

"Pleased to meet you. Am I interrupting?"

"No. We are done. I am leaving." The woman stood and nodded to Borland, which he mimicked, turned and walked away, her winter coat over one arm. She seemed to glide along, an impression shattered by the bob and dazzle of her ass.

Borland and I both stared after her. I at least fixed my attention on her flanks and ass and presumed Borland was similarly affixed.

"You divorced that?" I muttered, wonderingly.

"Yeah. I did. Sit. Please. I'll try to make it make sense but then, you've been in my wife, you have to understand that and you can as well as anyone, I suppose."

I sat where she'd sat and the seat was still warm. The leather was supple with her heat and I had a tingle in my dingle thinking of what a woman had to be to make a seat that warm. Hot, was the word that came to mind and it echoed both meanings, the one the eyes mean and the one that skin indicates once the tight sweater comes off.

Borland waved over a waitress who cleared their dishes. When he heard I hadn't had breakfast yet, he got a menu and I order eggs Benedict with American bacon. The woman gave me disbelieving look but I ignored her. When she left us, leaving behind a glass of water for me and a warm up of Borland's coffee, he looked at me with his gray, cool eyes and smiled thinly.

"I want you to seduce my ex-wife." He said softly. "It won't be that difficult." He grinned but it was a bleak, grim thing. "You see, since I married Suzanne, I have had a number of assistants. Each time Carol Lynn meets one, she seduces them. I had no idea she had that sort of talent or inclination. She was never omni-sexual while we were married. At first, she seduced my assistant and I had no inkling. It cost me half a million dollars because she found assets I'd hidden and required they be included in our divorce decree. I confess, I was trying to bilk her out of her fair share. I was facing the end of my professional career that I'd depended on to that point and feared penury at her hands, and we were fighting over the children and custody.

"Ah, the bad old days when I fought with her just to prove I could give as good as I got. She seduced my assistant, a pretty young woman that Suzanne figured out had gone into the other locker room before I did. I eventually figured out Carol Lynn was siphoning off information from her and her lap top. I dismissed her for cause and got another. Carol Lynn seduced them all, proving what I always thought that every woman can be bi-sexual. If there was ever a woman addicted to cock, the whole cock and nothing but the cock, it was Carol Lynn Northcutt. She took to sex with women so easy, but I never suspected until my divorce plan went south on nearly every point.

"That was actually a good thing. At one point, I just gave up and turned everything over to her and her shark lawyer. My shark lawyer did me right and we eventually fired them both and settled the matter between us, amiably...but it took a couple years for us to get there. By that time, my business had transformed into something new and I was much more comfortable sharing our largess with her. Suzanne never blinked, I tell myself that's because she's a Vestigial Saint but the reality is likely that she makes plenty of money doing what she does and so doesn't feel like Carol Lynn is picking her pocket. Since then, though, Carol Lynn has taken every opportunity to seduce every associate I have ever hired. I switched over to young men and she didn't miss a beat. I always thought I should warn them, tried that but it did no good. Whatever Carol Lynn decides, she'll usually does, without much hesitation."