The Payment Plan Ch. 06

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Ameaner
Ameaner
1,251 Followers

"I'm the streetwise one, remember?"

"Your point being?"

"Well, I'm like the Alpha."

"Ha! Where's this coming from, now?"

"Wheh- heh -whereas, you're just this innocent and helpless, demure soccer mom."

"Oh, isthathow you see me?"

"Yeah, sure. You know it's true."

"I'm older than you, young lady, and yes, I'm a soccer mom. A parent. An experienced authority with those younger than I and the fact that you're streetwise only proves that you have the mind of a child, which I always knew. I'm the stable one,I'mthe Alpha here, young lady."

"If you think you're going to tie me to your apron strings, you got another thing coming." Victoria laughed, before adding, "You're going to be my personal whore from next door and-whoop!"

Janet had rushed forward, grabbed her around the middle and pushed her to the grass underneath her with a playful laugh.

"Hey, you didn't tell me you were a woman beater! Help! Oh, heavens me, I'm being accosted by an evile soccer mommy! Ohhh, somebody, please heeeeelp!"

Janet was laughing too hard to hold her and, somehow, Victoria ended up on top.

"See? I'm younger and fasstt-uhh! Ohhh, Janet!"

"I'm older and hornier. Now kiss fifi like a good girl, hmm?"

"Ohhhh, Yes, Janet!"

----- ----- ----- ----- -----

"Vicky!?" Janet called into the darkened Sharpe house from the open back door, waiting for an answer she never got. "Are you ready!?"

Still no answer. She walked further in, wearing a black skirt that stopped just above her knees and hugged her curves fairly nicely with a matching sweater she wore as a cape, buttoned at the collar over her white pullover, a little tighter since the days before she met Mr. Buckner.

"Vicky!"

She must have left already, but she knew they were leaving together from home. Something must have come up, forcing her to leave in a hurry, in which case, there would be a note. So she reached over and flicked the light switch just inside the kitchen, producing an almost impressing lack of results.

"Dammit.", she fumed just above a whisper, moving carefully to the counter in the dark. "Now where does that silly woman keep her flashlight? Probably doesn'tevenkeep a-EEEEEEEEKK-!!!"

"Shut up, bitch!" Victoria's sharp voice threatened from behind as she suddenly held Janet, scared lifeless, by the throat while twisting her arm behind her back.

This was quite a confounding surprise and several explanations began to race for first place in her mind at once, ranging from the logical to the absurd. Before the checkered flag had a chance to fall, she was being forced deeper into the house with the help of another. As her confusion began to lift, she began to struggle, no longer concerned with the most likely explanation.

"Stop struggling, or you'll get hurt, blondie!" Reggie's voice jeered in her ear.

She let them push her down the hall and into their bedroom where her hands were hastily tied with soft rope to a ring and eyebolt in the ceiling. A bright spotlight created a cylinder of light beneath the eyebolt and, once she was secured with only the balls of her feet making contact with the floor, her accosters stepped back to the darkness around the illuminated cylinder where she couldn't see them.

"Uhh, okay, this is a joke,... right?"

"Would you listen to her yap?AfterI told her to shut up?"

"Maybe she needs the ball gag." Reggie offered.

Victoria giggled and answered, "I think that's a great idea, hon."

"V- Vicky,... what are you,...?

Reggie chuckled as they walked around her in the darkness, their voices coming from a different direction every time. It made Janet look around this way and that, her mouth partly open, still with some confusion and a little alarm, despite how strongly her rational mind insisted that she could trust Victoria.

Then one of them was putting said ball gag to her face and strapping it on. Now she was fighting again, although uselessly. They got their way and she hung there, wide eyed with a shiny red ball jacking her mouth open. When someone gave her a turn from behind, she lost her precarious footing and spun helplessly until her feet could slow her to a stop. A harsh laugh and a slap to her ass was her only reward, sending her off her footing again.

"To answer your little question, Mrs. Priss, Miss Martha Stewart worshiping, Oprah sucking, tea-totaling, high society bitch," her girlfriend derisively explained,"weare going todowhatever the hell wewantto do. Does that meet with your approval, your royal highness?"

"Yeah.", Reggie chimed in. "Beg me not to use you like a sheep. Go on, beg!"

"Hon, she's wearing a ball gag, she can't. Duh!"

"Oh,whatever!",he retorted before they started grabbing at her skirt, yanking at it and her along with it until it was torn in front, revealing her new, white panties. (boy cuts, as inspired by Star) By the time they were done with it, only the waistband and some hanging scraps remained of her skirt. After that her breasts were grabbed and roughly handled before her top was ripped open, spilling her boobs out in a sexy little white bra, almost obscene considering the size of her bust.

She came to a rest as they must have been standing back, looking at their handiwork. She whined into her ball gag, breathing heavily through her nose while saliva leaked down her chin. Her eyes darted around the surrounding darkness, wondering from which direction the next assault might come and what it would be? Would they tear her bra and panties off?

These and other wild anticipations made her endangered panties even wetter.

----- ----- ----- ----- -----

Being on home rotation was definitely a vacation for Tom Fulton, no matter the extra vacation time his union assured him each year. He knew that a lot of the guys that worked the rigs liked it out there, looked forward to getting back out on the platform in the middle of salt water nowhere and away from home, but he wasn't one of them, not anymore. This is not to say that he didn't derive satisfaction from his job in the manner that every professional does, simply that he felt he was getting a little old for the inherent risks involved in such a vocation. He'd always been aware of the risks, perhaps even got off on it in his younger day, as the others did, but two kids and a good woman at home changes things, makes a man ponder what he has coming, makes a man appreciate home and the vacation it always is when he's there.

Nonetheless, Tom and Janet Fulton had always had a long standing rule that allowed him to 'decompress'. He always rode to and from the airport in a taxi and alone, putting home away, or taking it out again during the ride for reasons that Janet only half understood.

Earlier, for example, in a bright yellow cab that the rain made all the brighter, he managed to put away the long, tense time he and seven others spent in the helicopter after the fuel pressure gauge had begun to slowly drop. They were past 'point of no return' in regards to fuel and weather wasn't favourable to survival, or a quick, open sea rescue. Everyone was fervently praying that it was an inaccurate reading, perhaps a faulty gauge as its needle dipped lower and lower.

Apparently, one of these must have been the problem, since they made it with no engine trouble whatsoever, but that didn't mean he didn't appreciate this particular decompression time and it was just the type of thing Janet never heard about. Her job, after all, was to be the big part of the home that he worked for, to be his loving wife, the mother to their children and, more importantly, his stability in a life that held no promises. It made the greeting he'd always received when he came through the door of his home all the more valuable.

That he loved her, obviously, was not in question. It never was. He would even involve himself in some of the things she did, apart from running the house, to keep her mind off the fact that he was gone, actually attending PTA meetings and even going so far as to attend church with her.

And lately,...

He walked through the door and encountered his beautiful wife with her bright, loving smile. She wore a red, see through babydoll that was open in front, her breasts hanging so enticingly for him. He fixed her with one of his own and they kissed passionately.

"I missed you, Jan."

"I missed you too, Tom. This rotation will be the best ever."

"You say that every time."

"Is she ever wrong?"

Tom looked around and smiled at Victoria in her schoolgirl uniform, skirt obscenely short, blouse unbuttoned and tied under her breasts, the middle of a too small, white push-up bra clearly visible in the open neck.

"Oh. You must be the new baby sitter?" he asked with an appreciative smile.

"Well, yes, but I'm afraid I've forgotten your children at their grandmother's house."

"That's not all she's done." Janet put in with a leer as Victoria gave Tom a quick hug. "Oh, she's been busy. Making all kinds of mistakes, getting into things she shouldn't, disobeying,... I've been wondering what to do with her. Perhaps you might have some ideas."

"Looks like you're in for some hard times, girly." Tom grinned, looking at that short skirt.

"YouknowI like it hard."

----- ----- ----- ----- -----

"I'm telling you, they're not up there."

"How do you know?"

"Because, that's not where she'd hide them, that's why."

Erica rolled her eyes at his stupidity, standing on the chair and peering into the back of the uppermost shelf in the cupboard while Sam stood gazing defiantly around the kitchen. It was as if a magical, blinking neon sign could pop up out of thin air at any moment and tell him where their mother hid her car keys, Erica noted.

Their parents were in Las Vegas again with the Sharpe's from next door for the long weekend and they were finally, she at age eighteen, he nineteen, trusted to look after the house in their absence. Of course, this was a mistake, the all out search for the elusive spare keys to their mother's car, this one cooperative venture, being merely the opening act in their separate personal ambitions for the weekend.

"Really? So, tell me, bright-boy: WherewouldMom hide the spares?"

"Well, if I fuckin' knew that, I'd have them, wouldn't I?"

"So, since you obviously haven't a clue as to where theywouldbe, you're really in no position to be saying where shewouldn'thide them, are you? OMG, you're so stupid."

"Yeah. You're dating Kyle Keuper.That'sstupid."

"You're just too much of a creep to even know what women- hey, what's this?"

"You find them?" Sam asked hopefully.

"No, something else. A bottle."

"Booze?" he inquired, still hopeful.

"I don't think so."

"Well, keep moving, then. Don't waste time."

"I'm not the one standing around with my thumb up my ass, waiting for the keys to hop into my pocket." she replied irritatedly, looking at the dark bottle with the dropper built into the cap.

"I'm thinking." he said testily in his defense. "And just let me remind you, you're not the one with the driver's license, either."

"Whatisthis?" Erica asked out loud, but more to herself than Sam.

"What's it say on the label,Einstein?"

"It doesn't have a label,pinhead.

Now she was standing straight, her head out of the cupboard and looking at the dark glass bottle Janet had hidden away up there about two years before, unopened, unused and un-necessary.

In that time, its contents had undergone a curious chemical change, a result of long storage that the man who'd given the bottle to their mother couldn't have been aware of. Fermentation had increased the strength of the potion as it sat still and forgotten in the cool, dark cupboard for all those months until its eventual and quite unintended rediscovery.

Erica removed the cap and peered in. It seemed to be filled with a clear gel which gave off a very curious scent. Was it face cream? She wondered who applied face cream with a dropper and took a deep breath of the contents, the bottle under her nose.

" ... Whoa. Heh."

"What?" Sam asked, suddenly pouncing on the handle of a lower cupboard door.

"It's,...", she said, trailing off as she got down from the chair.

She stood there, bottle in one hand, dropper cover in the other, watching him pull all of their mother's Tupperware out and to the floor, wondering what her brother was up to now. She took another deep sniff.

"Uh-hh-hh. Shivers. Mmmm.(giggle)"

"Fuck.", Sam swore at the empty cabinet. "I was thinking they might have fallen out of the back of the junk drawer and down into this cabinet."

"What's this, now?" Erica asked.

Sam looked up at her irritatedly, about to repeat himself when he stopped, mouth open on his first, unspoken word. She stood there in a pair of cut off, low rise, blue denim shorts and a yellow pullover with a collar and button up neck, holding a small bottle and its cover with a goofy smile on her face.

"What the fuck is wrong withyou?"

"Nothin'. Check this out."

"What is it?"

"I told you, silly, I don't know."

"You alright?"

"Yeah!" she said, looking at him as though that was the craziest question she'd heard all year.

"Well, you seem a little,... whatever the fuck.", he said dismissively, deciding he didn't care anyway. "Let's see."

"Careful. Have you ever smelled anything like that before?"

"(Sniff)"

" ... I,... uhhh,..."

"I know. Take a nice deep sniff."

He did as directed, then jerked his head up, staring her in the eyes with a slightly startled expression on his face for a moment.

"Ohh. Ohhhhhh, fuuuuuck! Heh, heh."

"Yeah, I know!" Erica replied.

Sam suddenly found himself looking at his sister differently, as if he'd just met her or something. He put the bottle on the counter and took a closer look, up and down. She was a shorter, brunette version of his mother with round hips and more than adequate breasts, pretty like his mother, too, but also with that upper class attitude he'd learn to sneer at around the house. But she seemed somehow more vivid, now. Or something. Whatever it was, it was making his dick rapidly harden.

"What?" asked Erica, trying not to giggle again. Her nipples felt incredible and her pussy lips were already spread and moistening.

Her big brother, the slob, the jerk, stood there in his black jeans and undershirt, looking her up and down without answer. As she suddenly noticed the exciting hardon in his pants, he stepped closer and grabbed one of her breasts.

"Uhmmm,... what are you doing?", she asked with a casual smile, watching his hand as it freely groped her before he grabbed the other one as well.

"I'm feeling your tits. They're fuckin' nice."

"(giggle)"

"Oh, my fuck, Erica,... You're so hot."

He attacked her nipples through her shirt and she gasped, glassy eyes half closing for a moment as he tweaked them deliciously. In his rush to free her breasts, he popped all the buttons on her shirt, tearing it open past the bottom one far enough to allow them out in the pink bra that confined them.

"Ooooh. Ohh, Sam.", she sighed as he freed them, peeling the cups down to suck on her nipples as she began to moan louder.

Her shorts were being unfastened, one of his hands reaching into the front of them as she spread her legs and watched her brother do some very fun things with her body, thinking maybe he wasn't such a bad guy at all.

"Ohhhhh, Sammy! I like to suck cock!" she blurted.

He couldn't believe it, but that admission actually made him harder, made him promise himself that he'd help her out with that as his hand went down her panties, finger going straight up between her lips and inside. She moaned louder, calling his name as her fingers danced franticly around his belt buckle.

She soon had his jeans undone and was pushing them down, going to her knees. She rubbed his throbbing member (bigger than Kyle's) over her face, licking it now and then as it passed, licking his balls and teasing for a short time before simply putting it in her mouth and sucking. Now he was the one groaning. She looked up at him and smiled at his condition and the power she had over him at that moment, enjoying the hard, yet soft feel of his cock in her mouth.

From there, they went to the living room, where Erica suggested that they take all their clothes off and where Sam pleasingly went along. He sat on the couch, she on her spread knees beside him, both of them breathing heavily and perversely getting each other off with their hands. Sam hungrily sucked her nipple, getting closer to orgasm as he played with her clit while fingering her, making her cry out louder and louder.

His balls felt suddenly swelled, seemingly as big as the beautiful tits he was kissing all over, ready and waiting to spill. He stood up on the couch, leaving her to play with herself as he plugged his stiff rod back into her mouth.

As Erica swallowed blast after blast of her brother's hot, sticky seed to the gyrations of her own fantastic, squirting orgasm, neither one particularly cared about circumstances. Nor were circumstances a concern when he dumped his load into her pussy and ass time and time again that evening while she screamed for more and more, harder and harder, wishing Kyle were there too so she'd have two cocks, one to fuck and one to suck.

The next morning, tired and sore, Erica awoke in her bed to find Sam inside of her, fucking her gently, rather than the hammering he'd given her the night before. She moaned and writhed, half stretching, feeling acutely this now familiar invader filling her so satisfyingly well and a strong, very curious drive, an important need to smell that wonderful scent from the mysterious blue bottle again,...

End

Ameaner
Ameaner
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3 Comments
Mark1958Mark1958over 5 years ago
Your incredible writing

Love your work, please keep it up. Also read " Dad's the Man". Great story. Thank you.

AnonymousAnonymousabout 13 years ago

HAHAHAHA !! Great ending. Wonder what the mommies will think of all this... stays in Vegas, indeed !! Nothing stays anywhere for long LOL. Good story : )

AnonymousAnonymousabout 13 years ago

I have enjoyed this story, and you should keep it going!

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