Extending the MILF List Ch. 21

"Oh gracious, James. That sounds so illicit. You made a deal for her? With her to do what?"

"No. I made a deal for her, to have her, sexually, as part of the Cottingham project."

"Oh. Sexually? You mean, to have sex with her?"

I couldn't tell if Jamie was fooled by his mother or was just playing along. Her tone sounded obviously lyrical, singsong, like she was toying with him, making him say the words, demanding that he express exactly what he'd done, a confession. If a confession, what was she, his confessor? There was no suggestion that she sought understanding or that she was the least bit confused at all to my ears. Jamie, however, remained earnest and forthcoming, explaining each detail as though Candice had no idea what was going on. I thought he was going to explain the meaning of sex and I'd end up demonstrating copulation on Ellen. I glanced at her. Ellen's eyes were wide as saucers. She was hearing about all this for the first time and clearly her lawyer ears were pricking up.

"Yes, to have sex with her. Mother, she and I, we had a connection, I mean, I walked into the room and I knew I had to have her and she had to have me. We wanted to have each other instantly and we'd have done it on the desk right then but she was already owned."

"She was married you mean?"

"Well, yes, but not to this man. Her husband...she was married to another man but this man, this is Sonny Duncan, he owned her pleasure, her body, her cunt and tits and mouth and he could use her as and when he wanted and she had to obtain permission to offer her body to anyone else or surrender that ownership forever. She wore his collar. I saw it but ignored its rather obvious meaning."

"James, why are you telling me this?"

"I wanted her but I had to trade something to obtain her. Not money, you understand. I wanted her as part of the Cottingham project, so, well, I traded him Mercy and Patricia."

"Oh gracious. How could you do that?"

"I...I've been sleeping with them."

"Both?"

"Both. Yes."

"Goodness. That must be tiring. Does your father know?"

"Of course not."

Candice smiled vaguely, but with approval at the idea of the son cuckolding her ex-husband. She seemed so high, so spacey.

"He wouldn't care. I was always surprised Mercy wasn't stepping out on him, now I understand why. Good for you, James. She's a very attractive woman. That other woman, her...companion, she's beastly."

"I traded them to Sonny but as he points out, I had no right to do so. I defrauded him."

"So the deal's off?"

"I...well...no...not exactly. I had sex with Mrs. Honeywell and her sister last night."

"Oh, my gracious. You're in a bit of a corner then, aren't you?" Candice turned her head and her eyes focused on us, on Jamie actually. "You need someone to trade to Mr. Duncan here, then don't you? Someone you think you own."

Jamie nodded.

Candice regarded her son with half closed eyes and I realized where her daughter got that look from. For a long time, no one spoke. I finally realized what that doughy silence meant. She was waiting for him to ask and Jamie was waiting for her to offer. I was waiting to see who'd do what. My cock wasn't waiting. The little fella was getting hard all by his little lonesome with virtually no encouragement from anyone. I glanced at Ellen. She glanced at my tenting pants. She rolled her eyes at me and shook her head.

"Son, when you are in the wrong, you must both ask for forgiveness and for the help you need to make things right. I will not offer to copulate with this young man unless you request it of me."

"I need you both." Jamie whispered.

I saw them both plainly then. I couldn't tell if this was just a little Kabuki play or if Jamie was that clueless. Candice was two eyelashes away from throwing off her bra and rubbing her tits in my face. Everything about her pose screamed "Fuck me!" No, that's not right. The phrase coiled in her posture was "hurry the fuck up and fuck me!" If I ever saw a woman primed and ready for immediate penetration, it was Candice St. Vincent! I almost pushed her onto her back and mounted her at that moment as a purely humanitarian manner; I'm sure there is a UN provision somewhere that mandated such things and likely a Nobel prize for Sex that would have come my way had I done so but I refused fame and glory in favor of building friendship with James St. Vincent by refusing to fuck his mother until the deal was fully negotiated and settled. I am such a noble guy I amaze myself!

Mrs. St. Vincent gasped with such obvious umbrage I couldn't believe James couldn't see that she was toying with him.

"My god, James! Are you saying what I think you are saying?"

"Mum, please, oh god, don't make me say it!"

"You bloody well shall say it, if that is what you are thinking because I am not going to say it, because if I am wrong, what sort of bloody mother would I be, then?"

"Oh, right!" James seemed perfectly persuaded and nodded.

This sounded like they were having a reasonable conversation and if I hadn't been fucking mothers and daughters myself, to say nothing of my own mother and sisters, I'd have been bouncing off the ceiling trying to figure out if I was a pervert in training or not. Of course that matter is long settled in my case so I remained placidly on the floor.

James' eyes shifted to his sister, then back to his mother.

"I need you both. I need you both to have sex with Mr. Duncan, mother. You and Xavia both." He swallowed hard then, like he finally gave up on chewing the golf ball in his mouth and just tried to swallow it.

"You can't ask all of that of me." Mrs. St. Vincent hesitated then and her composure slipped a bit because I saw her lips twitch, just the right corner, and just a little, so slight I may have imagined it but it was there I swear. That was when I knew she was fucking with him. Of course I knew that! Her ex-husband had arranged this moment in Jamie's life in collusion with her but still, it was both surreal and persuasive to such an extent that I doubted my own knowledge, fearing that what I knew was not what I knew.

Mrs. St. Vincent blinked her eyes, pulled her lips into line and spoke, finally, continuing her teasing torture of her son.

"You must ask that of your sister. I cannot commit her to sexual coitus like that, like the snap of a garter. You cannot ignore her by asking me. You must ask her, direct the question to her too. Ask me first, though. Then ask her." Mrs. St. Vincent's lips smiled then, a wispy thing that flashed like a passing car's headlights on a burglar's pose in a black room, then was gone followed by a vanishingly slight sigh of relief. "Ask your sister to have sexual relations with this young man. But ask me first. Ask me to shag him for you." Her composure cracked at the last.

My god, I nearly burst out laughing then. It was so clear she was fucking with him, I thought sure he'd lose his cool and offer to fuck her in the ear with a gravy boat. James regarded her with absolute sobriety, though, like they were discussing the right wine for communion. He stared, gulped and finally nodded.

"Mother, would you please consent to have sexual relations with Mr. Duncan?"

I couldn't resist. I'm a fucker, I know. I'd been watching this little exchange like it was between God and the Devil were toying with a child molester, giving the fucker some hope he wasn't going to hell for certain. I had to jump in. I shook my head.

"Oh no, Jamie, oh bean." I said with a hearty chuckle, "this isn't sexual relations. This is sexual slavery. Mommy dearest is consigning all her holes to my filling appetites, er, to filling my appetites? Whatever. I'm going to use your mother with the same sort of liberality you reserved for the dark sisters. Just to be clear. I am sure you were in ass, mouth and cunt in both parties and they performed for you. They ate each other...and as part, I say, part of the penalty, I get to have your female consist, here, muff dive Ellen after I pump her full of the rich and creamy! Just to be clear. I don't want any more confusion."

The look on Mrs. St. Vincent's face was priceless, it was a pearl of great value! She looked utterly and totally aghast! She stared at me for a dozen heartbeats and then dragged her gaze over to her son like it was heavy as sins carried into heaven.

"Who's Ellen?" She asked him. I glanced at Ellen expecting some eruption but she stood beside me staring, mouth open. She caught me peeping and licked her lips at me as if that was a thing.

"Her." Jamie gestured at Ellen without looking at her. Candice made a thing of looking at Ellen who licked her lips so maybe that is a thing, then returned her eyes to her son.

"Is this true, son?" Candice whispered, her voice replete with rich horror. "He can do all that?"

I was almost sure that Jamie only heard her intended horror but I was almost equally sure I heard her full measure of anticipation too. A woman with self-control is both a marvel and frightening. The moment Jamie closed his eyes and looked away, his face a mask of shame, she licked her red, red lips with a huge, swipe of her great pink tongue and I knew she was fucking with her son. I knew it!

Jamie nodded.

I had to help out. Truth was, I was getting impatient! God, this was taking for fucking ever!

"You have to ask her, for fuck sake!" I growled, like I was owning it. Her blue eyes flicked at me with something approximating appreciation and perhaps a little bit of gratitude. I felt her growing warmth, nay, heat. I wasn't the only one who was growing impatient! That encouraged me, and inspired me.

Jamie nodded. He looked at his mother.

"You must let him do whatever he wants, mother." He said softly. His eyes shifted to his sister. "Xavia, sister, dear, you too. Let Sonny shag you. Let him put his cock wherever he wishes, in your bum, if he wants even. Twat and mouth for certain but even the bum, please, dear sister. Please, I beg you. If you don't, this deal fails and father will never let me hear the end of it. I'll, I'll...I'll lose my position on the board and I'll end up back in the mail room. He'll never trust me again!"

I thought that was overkill but when pulling at the heartstrings of a mother, or sister, there is no such thing as overkill. Mrs. St. Vincent played it perfectly. Her face fell, a hand went to her cleavage and she pressed it against her chest, making her breasts waver. She looked at her daughter.

"Xavia, this is a terrible thing to ask but Jamie needs us, he is asking us to lay down for this man. I think we must. I will but you must agree or it is of no benefit. Will you Xavia? Will you?"

The tone of her voice was so melodramatic I could not imagine that Jamie could help but know he was being played but if he did, he hid it completely. He stared at the two women intently, tense with dramatic effect. Xavia played her part perfectly, staring intently at her mother for a long time before turning her head to look at me and finally fixing her eyes on Jamie and nodding. She licked her lips in that way that said, "come and get it, big boy!" but Jamie's eyes were closed, he was sighing with relief.

Her mother wasn't letting her off that easily.

"You must say it aloud, dear, so we can hear your voice. Address yourself to, Mr. Duncan was it?"

"Sonny is fine, your ladyship." I managed to croak. Mrs. St. Vincent gave me a look that would have killed lice. Sorry! I didn't think "ma'am" was sufficiently imperious and Madam was French and that surely would be an insult to a Brit, right? Shit, European sensibilities can be confusing, or is it American ignorance that makes it seem so?

At any rate, Mrs. St. Vincent nodded and graced me with a rich, leering smile. She looked at her daughter.

"Aloud, Xavia. Tell Sonny what Jamie needs from you!"

Xavia to that point had been facing three quarters away from me and now turned back so that I got a perfect view of the shape and draft of her tits. My god, what tits on her young, virile body! She smiled at me, her green eyes alight.

"Sonny," she wheezed, "I offer you my body, vagina, mouth and arse. Fill me with your cock for the sake of my idiot brother. I don't know how you managed to get him to trade for me, but I swear, I will shag you fine and well so that the Queen and country will be proud and you Yanks will know what it means to shag an English twat!" She smiled so sweetly, I had to rewind to make sure she hadn't just offered an invitation to tea. She hadn't by the bye.

Suddenly, it was my move.

"Take off your clothes, Ellen." I hissed.

She squawked.

"What? Me? I thought...!" Her head twitched side to side but not in denial, confusion.

"Now." I said.

She heard the insistence and did so without any further prevarication, for which I wanted to thank her because her compliance was vital at that moment. Ellen had the process down pat. She'd had plenty of practice stripping that day. Blouse, bra, skirt, garter belt and stockings and she was naked.

"Now what, ass hole?" She couldn't resist, her compliance extended only so far. No reason to be greedy, though. When a naked woman is snotty, that is not the time to hand her a hanky.

The two women stared at naked Ellen, seeming to see her for the first time but with real interest and fascination in their faces. Neither moved. I left the tableau then to tour the suite. I wanted to see if the sexual tension would build or dissipate if I left Ellen standing there naked and nosed around a little. The suite consisted of four rooms. The living room where we were, two standard bedrooms and a master bedroom. The decoration was vaguely baroque, uncomfortable furniture that suggested everyone spent their time on the beds. Baroque or Victorian furniture designed not for comfort but to foster virtues like good posture or to deny sensuous suggestiveness, all contrary to my purposes. No one else moved, leaving Ellen standing naked before the St. Vincent three. She glowered at me on my return.

I wasn't insensitive to the situation and the inherent risk that was before me. The relative ease with which I'd obtained leave to fuck these two women didn't mean that once I was dick deep in one of them that I'd not get a crack on the back of the head from Jamie who might suddenly have a change of heart. Acquiescence in theory could be rescinded in practice when the practice converted into a fountain of ecstasy. Seeing me injecting several yards of cock into sister or mother could be profoundly different in practice than it would seem in theory for Jamie, if his father was to be believed. I needed to secure myself against that situation. I found one of the Victorian straight backed chairs that fit my purpose and dragged it into the master bedroom.

I strode back into the living room. Ellen glowered at me again, trying to make a thing of it but I ignored her and her ruby red nipples. When did she have time to put lipstick on them? Maybe I was mistaken.

"Jamie, give me your belt." He looked askance at me but I insisted and finally he surrendered it, pulling it out of the loops of his trousers. I gestured for him to follow me and when he did, I pulled my belt free and had him sit on the chair in the bedroom.

"Bugger me, Sonny, what are you doing?" He asked.

"Relax. I'm not buggering anyone, oh, well, I mean not you anyway. The girls...they remain on the menu." I muttered. "I don't want you changing your mind, so this is another part of your penalty for being a buggering fraud." The resistant tension slackened a bit and he released himself to me so I could manipulate him as I wished. He was in sufficient shock I got him secured before he comprehended just what I had in mind.

I pulled his arms around the narrow back of the chair and looped one belt around his upper arms. I looped and tied and secured it. With the second one, I secured his elbows. My intent was clear and his reaction was immediate.

"Goddammit, it Sonny, what the fuck are you doing?"

"I am about to fuck your sister and your mother. You are going to watch me. It is your punishment, your next punishment for seeking to defraud me. I am just an American bumpkin, a peasant, a cad, a tosser to you but cheating me should be punished and you took what was mine and traded me what wasn't yours to trade."

"You had them didn't you?"

"No thanks to you. I earned that. I gained them, used them, and had them by trading them something else of my own. I had to give them my own sisters and now, at this very instant, they are being fucked by a clot of my own friends, for free. They are getting something they will never forget, for fucking free!" I was shouting. My anger appeared like an ostrich in a greyhound race, out classing the other contenders and utterly out of place.

I reined it in immediately. It served no purpose but it surprised me. I heaved a huge sigh, putting my umbrage back on the shelf where it belonged. I wanted to let it loose but dared not. It was precisely that feeling, the sense that I could be cheated with impunity because I didn't matter that infuriated me, even while we shared a sympatico that I thought would have protected me. I was face to face with Jamie's sense of superiority, his classist arrogance and I fucking hated it. I wanted to hurt him, to make him regret it and to respect or if nothing else, to fear me. I had to restrain that urge, to cage it and only express what Chilton had engaged me to express, the subordination of Jamie's dominance of his mother and sister but to do that, I'd have to take them for my own and he had to watch me do it. All in all a good trade.

"Jamie, I am going to use your mother and sister and you have to watch me. I don't trust you. When I am dick deep in them, you might decide to renege again and try to repossess what you've handed to me and I can't have that. Alissa needs this deal to work as much or more than you do, and that includes the inclusion of her ass in the terms of the deal. If I let you fuck this up..." I couldn't finish so I didn't, being the logical intelligent life form I was evolving into.

"Before we are done, I'll punish you again, a second and perhaps a third way. For now, you watch while I fuck them both. You understand? I am going to make them mine, just as Alissa is mine. You gave her pleasure but she is mine. You saw that. She submitted and let me hand her to her son and husband, even though it humiliated her, watching while they fucked her sister and a stranger. Now its your turn." I finished securing him, having looped the second belt so he was bound to the chair as well as around it.

I left him then.

I walked into the living room, closing the door behind me.

Mrs. St. Vincent stood up and met me halfway. She hugged me tight against her voluminous breasts, her plush body enveloped me. The day's erotic endeavors faded away. I felt renewed. The nap had done me good.

"Mr. Duncan," she whispered, "I cannot thank you enough! Chilton said you'd help us. I never would have believed it! He seems so docile, so willing to turn us over to you."

"As I understand it, you've gotten this far before."

She nodded.

"Yes, truly. Since he gained his majority, our lives have been Spartan at best. Any opportunities have soon been quashed by his jealous rages. What are you going to do about that?"

"I tied him to a chair." I gestured to naked Ellen. "That's what she's here for. Have you any experience with women?"

Mrs. St. Vincent colored slightly. She nodded.

"I have, some time ago. Chilton was jealous as Jamie is but in our younger years, we tended to reward the help at night. It was a private thing. I don't think that Xavia has ever had lips to her lips, however. She is quite innocent in the Sapphic arts."

Xavia looked as innocent as a former Vestal Virgin. Looking at her then, I think I was being ironic but I wasn't sure. Is that possible? To be confused about irony?