Homecoming

You have to be away for some years from your hometown before experiencing a real homecoming, and Charlie Nicholson did just that.

He'd left town after stumbling his way through high school – remembered as the gangly kid with glasses, a sunken chest and big feet. – and now eighteen years later he returned to Scudway Crossing, a community of some 50,000 people on the fork of York River.

Charlie hadn't expected bands to be playing and flags flying to celebrate his homecoming or Kelly Roberts in her dress two sizes too small swinging her hips inviting him to enter – not that she'd ever thought of having sex with him in a million years. Correction – make that two million, sighed Charlie, happy to be greeted by the flag flying over the Post Office. Well, that was something.

Fifty thousand people? The sign at the entrance to the town proclaimed 'Scudway Crossing City, Population 186,278. Mayor Thomas B. Johnston'.

Tommy-John, mayor? Well, Tommy's father built and owned the mall, completed during their last year at high school – the biggest single development in the town since WW2, with 33 stores and a supermarket. Everyone had predicted it would go bust within two years but it had defied the doomsayers.

Charlie spotted a sign pointing to the direction of Johnston Mall – 108 stores, two supermarkets, two department stores, skating rink, eight-theatre movie complex and conference centre. Oh my.

Then he spotted a fat-ass woman pushing an infant in a pram with another holding on to her dress and bawling. He parked and strode after that woman.

"Kelly – Kelly Roberts?"

"Yes, but Kelly Knapman now, I haven't worked at the brothel for seven years. I'm married and have seven children. You'll have to get your pleasure somewhere else."

"Kelly – it's me, Charlie Nicholson."

Her mouth dropped on to the push bar of her stroller.

"Ohmigod – is it really you? Just look at that body. Oh, I need to sit down."

"So you married Nappy Man?"

"Yes, but no-one calls him that these days, he's vice-president of the River Country Bank."

"But he was useless at math at school."

"Yeah, but look at me – I was a virgin till I was 19 and yet five years later I was the most acclaimed prostitute in the history of Scudway Crossing. Some of us are just late developers."

Kelly pulled out a purple hued breast with a nipple the size of the mouth of a beer bottle and the little fellow she'd pulled out of the stroller made contact with it with a spine-tingling slurping sound.

"What happened to you Nicky-Dickey? When you left town you were a nobody."

"I went to work for my Uncle Ralph in advertising. After eight years he died, no-one stepped forward to take over the business so Auntie May said it had to be me. I stoked it up; she died and left everything to me. I've just sold out, so I thought I would come to see how my old colleagues are getting on."

"I'm glad you said colleagues – you had very few friends. Two from memory: Tommy-John is under siege, holding on by his shirt-tails; your sweet Caroline bought me out and is now madam of the failing brothel."

Ah, Caroline, a buck-tooth leggy kid, all bones and a sweet smile, thought Charlie. Her only friends at school were Tommy and him, and the only friends Tommy had were Caroline and him and there was a Melody something hovering.

The baby finished, burped and was put back in the stroller.

While Kelly was putting herself back into her monster bra she said: "Nice meeting you, Charlie. My, you have turned out to be such a dreamboat. If we should meet one dark night just take me, I won't mind. You won't need a rubber because I not worried about becoming pregnant – having babies is the only thing I do these days."

"I'll keep that in mind, Kelly. Can I drop you and the kids off somewhere?"

"No thank you – I'd only give you a bad reputation. Please go."

Charlie went to City Hall and asked to see Mayor Johnston.

"He's seeing nobody, he's suffering severe depression," asserted the thin-faced granny behind the counter.

"Bullshit," Charlie laughed, vaulted the counter and barged into the office of the Mayor.

Tommy's trousers were around his ankles and he was pumping into a trim blonde.

"Well, fuck me," marvelled Tommy – I do believe it's Charlie – recognised that nose and watery blue eyes anywhere. You've risen up, filled out nicely and handsome to boot; someone's been feeding you well. You'll excuse me while I finish, won't you?"

"Sure thing, buddy. Who is she?"

"I'm Liz, manager of Treasury, and what the fuck are you doing watching this obscene display of mayoral stress-shedding?"

"You've got a nice ass, Liz."

That changed her attitude abruptly, and she said sweetly, "Well thank you, stranger. Any time you'd like it on your lap it's yours.

"Oooh, oooh – cumming ready or not," she called, and wailed and groaned.

Tommy wiped himself with a towel which he handed on to Liz and said he was under immense pressure, so once again had failed to shoot his load.

"Buddy, you and I need to talk," said Charlie soothingly. "I'm booked in at the Commercial Hotel. Come and have dinner with me tonight. I'd like to find if I can help you."

"What room?" Liz.

"I'm not telling you – I don't fuck the mayor's girl friend."

They all laughed.

Charlie went to the Commercial and signed for his room. He requested the premium suite and scored it. He bounced on the huge bed and the day manager who'd carried Charlie's bags up the two flights of stairs as the elevator was being serviced, asked if he like company on the bed.

"No thank you, I haven't learned to diversify," Charlie said politely. The guy walked out not at all offended.

Deciding he didn't need to masturbate or to shave his face for that matter, Charlie completed his real objective of coming to town and went to his parent's small retirement unit.

Each year he sent them away on holiday and they'd always returned home via his city on the coast to say thank you and stay with him a few days. His mom Iris was always upset when finding Charlie had a new wife; neither Charlie nor his father had the heart to tell her most of those women were not married and those who were had not married Charlie; that was because Iris was prim and sanctimoniously positioned high in her church.

His parents greeted him excitedly and fed him weak coffee and bran biscuits and Iris asked if his wife had accompanied him – "What was her name, there have been so many?"

"Um, she ran away with a priest," lied Charlie, unwisely, provoking Iris to scream "Ohmigod" and had them linking hands while she prayed for absolution for the poor priest whom she declared had been unable to help being beset by depravity. "Thank goodness we Methodists hold the high moral ground," she said – both men unable to determine whether that was part of her prayer or a self-righteous post-prayer declaration.

After a happy few hours, and leaving a check that paid off his parents' mortgage, Charlie went unannounced to the brothel with the intention of having coffee with Caroline, with her buck-teeth, flat chest and sweet smile, although he wondered if she had also been a late developer and may surprise him.

Only two cars were parked out front, so business certainly looked bad.

A woman greeted him with a sweet smile looking like someone straight out of the pages of 'Playgirl'. He knew it had to be Caroline because surprises happen like this when you have a real homecoming.

"Hello stranger – can we free up some of your parts, for you. We can offer..."

She stopped, went wide-eyed and smoothed her hands over her hips.

"Ohmigod - Nicky-Dickey. Just look at you, all grown up and looking fabulous."

"You're looking pretty mighty yourself Titmouse."

"Oh gawd, don't use that name around here; you'll ruin my reputation."

"Are they real?" Charlie asked, admiringly. They were top-shelf 34c's pairing with 34 hips. She looked good enough to...er...whatever.

"They are real; like you I was a late developer. Have you come to buy an hour of bed fun or to see me?"

"To see you, have coffee, and now I've seen you to perhaps consider anything else on offer."

"Naughty boy."

"Sorry."

"I love it, coming from you. I'd like you to understand I'm off limits to everyone else."

Over coffee Caroline told him about the trouble Tommy was in. He controlled city administration through sheer personality and toughness. A rival firm wanted to establish a mall in competition with his father's Johnston Mall but Tommy and council had effectively blocked the project by not approving redevelopment of the site.

"That's not like Tommy – that's unconstitutional."

"He's not against competition for his dad, he's against Scudway Crossing High School being shifted out to the fringe of the city to make way for the new mall."

"They can't do that – the school property is hallow ground – they should put the mall on the city fringe site – new development will surround it."

"That's what Tommy and the council say. Their decision is heading for appeal but the developers have strong support because most of the people within a couple of miles of the high school are newcomers and never went to school there. As well, many of the old high school students have long lost attachment for their old school. People are not so loyal these days."

"This city needs a 'Save the High School' campaign."

"Exactly, Charlie. The 'Echo' tried to start one but it petered out within three weeks. Tommy can't be linked to one, not while the zoning issue is before a tribunal as it will be damaging, indicating impartiality on his part. Masterminding a campaign is expressing more than just an opinion so he can't afford weakening the city's case before the tribunal."

"Well, I better do it."

"You - what can you do, Charlie?. You aren't known in this city – you have no form."

Charlie ignored that rebuff and asked, "Why is your brothel failing?"

"Because these days our business is in competition against amateurs – young women so driven by rampant promiscuity they feel obliged to do it without charge. How can we compete against that?"

"Well, don't even try. Instead, convert this splendid facility into a dance studio – ballroom dancing is becoming a high focus craze around the world, with TV pushing celebrity dancing with gusto. There's big money in it and everyone wants to do it. You could still keep the rooms upstairs and charge room hire to amorous couples who've rubbing while dancing and now feel need somewhere to rest – possibly after every dance or two."

"I really don't know."

"Do you have a mortgage on this place?"

"Yes, it's now out to just under $200,000 if you must know."

"I'll buy in on a 50-50 partnership for $300,000 for a half share in the business, not the real estate. You can pay off the mortgage to reduce your overheads leaving a hundred grand to convert this downstairs area into a dance floor of the highest quality."

"Wow, that's very nice of you. I'll think about it. Meanwhile most of the girls are not busy right now, would you like a freebie?"

"No thanks. I'd prefer dinner with you tomorrow night followed by a freebie if I can manage to get you going."

"Sounds fair enough to me. Pick me up at 8:00 which is when my night manager comes on duty."

Dinner that night with Tommy was greatly successful. Both men bonded like old and Tommy was excited that Charlie wanted to organise a 'Save the High School' campaign.

"Tommy, I need a seeding fund of $20,000 plus four women who have worked in business administration to work two shifts for me as volunteers – so we'll also need four laptops on a local network, plus an office with handy car parking."

"Right, I'll get that twenty grand off dad as the mall tenants have contributed heavily to campaign funding. Also the superseded swimming centre is due for demolition soon – you can use the office there. Give me a couple of days and I'll get business people to loan everything needed to set up an office, including computers.

"Look, I want to see more of you. Please come over on Sunday for lunch – we always have a midday roast for Sunday lunch. I'd like you to greet my two great little guys and Melody."

"What you old ram – you snared Melody? She wouldn't turn it up for anyone."

"I got lucky and she didn't think anyone else could possible bring out the animal in her that I did, so she stuck to me like a limpid. I often see your mom – she says you've had as many marriages as she's had annual holidays. You wear them out or something?"

"They were just girlfriends – I never married. Women like me for my body but spurn my mind; I think I've got that the right way round. In advertising I perfected a whistle-like sound that imitated an amplified sound of an opening zip and I could take my pick; advertising seems to attract sexy girls."

"Bring a pal on Sunday if you've managed to bed one by then. Goodnight buddy."

"Goodnight, Tommy. Oh – I've never been involved in a failed campaign, so you can plan for your re-election after all."

Tommy habitually always wanted the last word. "You've got as much chance of turning around the inert population of this city as you've got of getting the knickers off Titmouse. She's grown up to be a proper madam in more ways than one. She'd now a babe of tongue hanging proportions."

"Want to bet on that I can't score?"

"Why?"

"Because I aim to be Titmouse's lover within forty-eight hours from now and to be her business partner within thirty-six hours. Want to place $20 against me achieving both goals?"

"Twenty bucks? Wait till you see her, Nicky-Dickey – she's built a fortress around her body. Nobody gets in, not even me – at least not in the past four years. And she's not going into business with anyone, she'd heading for financial ruin."

"Could I temp you with forty bucks?"

"Are you insane? You may as well hand me over the cash now."

"Tell you what, Tommy – I'll take the money from you the hard way. Five hundred bucks says by this Sunday Caroline will tell you she is living with me and that we have entered business together based on her present property."

"My friend, she's never going to admit to me she's having sex with you. I'll take the bet – if you can't write a check now, later will do."

"You're on, Tommy – I'll donate my winnings to the library new books fund."

"Yeah – of course you will. Hah-hah. If you do I'll match your donation. Hah-ha."

When Charlie called for Caroline he pushed the horn, which rather disappointed her and she was disappointed further when he made no attempt to open the door for her, and once seated she was not presented with flowers or even a small box of chocolates. It was their first date – ever: she was almost ready to cry.

However, he was very pleasant conversationally but at the restaurant when she touched his arm affectionately he stared at her hand, so she pulled it away, confused.

"D-d-do you not like me because of my connections with p-p-prostitution?"

"Not at all," he smiled. "I think a touch of notoriety gives a woman an edge which I find exciting."

"Oh, really?"

"I gather from Tommy you were only on the receiving end for less than a couple of years, and then bought the business and immediately retired from active service?"

"Tommy talks too much," she said, without malice and playing with her coffee cup. "We were such a trio of misfits when we were young. I didn't find you sexy then and you certainly didn't find me sexy – it was you who years before conferred my nickname of Titmouse because I didn't have any.

"When I went became professional Tommy was given freebies. He was married, which didn't make me proud of what I was doing, but he only came there specifically looking for me. The policy was we were allowed to offer one freebie a fortnight to encourage return visits, so that's all Tommy was given."

"That's fine with me. Tommy was always the lucky one of us."

Caroline looked at him carefully, finally deciding that was a compliment.

"Yes. This conversation is difficult for me, Charlie. I was hoping you would find me desirable."

"Tommy told me last night you've build a wall around your body."

"True but never have I indicated it was impregnable in the pure meaning of that word, at least not to the right person."

That seemed to satisfy Charlie and he took her hand and kissed it, and looked into her eyes. "Caroline, now that I have you full attention, could I remind you that in your younger days you were always a sucker for supporting worthy community causes. Well, I have in mind to donate $500 to the city library's the fund for new books for children, and if I manage to win a bet the fund will benefit by a further $500 contribution from another person. You've always liked wagers, haven't you?"

Caroline licked her lips, looking excited and nodded.

"Well, listen carefully, this is how you can help boost the children's book fund by $1000 and have a lovely time doing it."

An hour later Charlie and Caroline sat on the side of her bed to carry out the activity Charlie had outlined to win the wager. Gently he unbuttoned the tiny front buttons of her white dress to her waist, and parting the dress found himself looking at a most exquisite embroidered very light blue bra.

"With panties and stocking tops to match," she whispered, her voice sounding aroused.

He thought at that moment she would feel for his business end, but she restrained herself. He finished unfastening all 32 buttons, almost beside himself with desire.

"I normally don't allow myself to do this on first dates," he whispered.

She lost it, grabbing his neck and pulling him towards her until she could kiss him – raining little kisses all over his face in quick succession, rather than a rattling good tongue on tongue slobbering.

"Oh, Charlie. I desire you, desire you. Are you able to speed up here?"

"I understood women adored foreplay."

"Foreplay? This is excruciating torture," she complained, though not bitterly.

"Stand up," he commanded, and remove your dress then face me."

That placed his mouth more or less at navel level, so he licked around there and she squirmed.

"That's foreplay!" she gasped.

The lovely eggshell blue panties confirmed that was arousing foreplay by suddenly showing a moist patch.

Charlie pushed her away slightly and stroked the smooth thighs and progressed a little way down over the thigh hi tops. This different feel of skin and hosiery textures was so erotic to his touch that his penis was almost ripping through his trousers.

He pulled the panties down and she kicked them off.

"Leave the stockings – it may feel sexier for you," she whispered, breathing quite rapidly.

"Undo you bra, lovely lady, and show me what you've got."

There was a delectable showing – no scars or lumps or assorted marks, just smooth breasts, light brown circles from which rose slightly upturned sweet little pink nipples.

"May they keep like this for one hundred years," he said reverently and that made her melt.

Caroline gently shuddered into orgasm.

Unable to wait any longer she pushed at the centre of his chest; he co-operated by spreading his legs a little and lifting his butt as she worked at unbuckling and unzipping him and sliding off his pants and briefs.

She said nothing but looked impressed at what she found, falling to her knees and stroking it with her tongue, gentling playing with his testicles with her hand. She took him into her mouth and began bobbing.

A couple of minutes later positions had swapped, and as he began thrusting she giggled, crying, "On thousand forward strokes for each dollar to be donated."

He tried, oh how he tried and went terribly red in the face fighting to hold back, knowing he would fall very substantially short of 1000 strokes. But acknowledging his heroic attempts with much clucking and unhelpful squeezing of her vagina, Caroline finally said, "It's time sweetie – cum with me."