Extending the MILF List Ch. 19

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The salad was gone in jig time. I sat back, the raving hunger gone for the moment but glad I'd ordered a fillet to top it off. I had to keep up my strength.

"Let us be clear," I began, sitting forward, impressed that the other fellow had been silent and let me eat in peace. "You want Mrs. Honeywell to have sex with you."

The man did blush then, but just a slight pinking of one cheek, just the right one, which seemed peculiar but aren't we all in some way? Peculiar, I mean? He nodded.

"That is the essence of it."

"No." I said flatly. "She's mine. However, it is not without awareness of the penchant of people to, as you might say, frost a deal to settle it and screw you to the sticking place."

The man nodded.

"Macbeth I believe."

"Lady Macbeth," I countered. "I think." I shrugged. "So, sir, I offer you a selection. I have access to a very nice blonde that will suck you and fuck you very nicely, I think."

He shook his head.

"No thank you. I want Mrs. Honeywell?"

"What about a redhead? A brunette? Brown hair and golly gee as you please? I have a young woman with skillz between her knees and ears, both and tits you can bounce on."

He shook his head to them all.

"No? Well, Mrs. Honeywell is not available unless...." I glanced at Alissa. I was gently stroking her crotch with the back of my hand or the tip of my fingers. When the steak came, I'd need both hands, unless it was so perfect I could cut it with a fork. A guy can hope. God, I sound like a woman, rhapsodizing about food. I was still hungry, really hungry.

Mr. St. Vincent caught up my phrasing and followed up perfectly.

"Unless, what? What?"

I finally heard the same urgency in his voice that I'd heard earlier in Alissa's. She was wound tight as a Swiss watch. I was cheered in suspecting that he had the same response to her as she had to him. In the right measure, such mutual attraction can be combustible.

I peered across the table at him and squinted a little.

"Unless you have something to trade."

I'd seen what I rightly presumed was our waiter bringing me my steak. His arrival interrupted the conversation. We sat in a companionable silence while I ate, using both hands. Alissa resumed eating her cob salad, assiduously ignoring both of us.

"Mr. Vincent, I do not hand my women off to anyone, they are mine. However, I am willing to trade her, for something of equivalent value." Shit, I forgot the "saint" but maybe I was holy skeptical.

"Something? Or someone? And, please, really, call me Jamie. Let us be friends because we have this beautiful creature between us and I hope to have her in common." Jamie smiled and I thought it a bit rapacious but in the main, it was friendly.

"Someone. I mean specifically someone." I glanced at Alissa. She had released her hair and it tumbled about her face, obscuring her eyes as she huddled over her meal, giving her a sensual appearance. "I mean someone of about the same value to you as Alissa is to me. Like a mother or a sister. I'd take a daughter but yours could not possibly appeal to me. Sister then or even a favorite Aunt. I'd prefer a mother or sister, though."

Alissa stopped eating. She lifted her head and peered through her fallen bangs at me, her eyes haunted. I patted her thigh to reassure her but she did not seem reassured. I cut the steak for another bite.

"So we are to strike a bargain? Good. I presumed that would be the case and barter rather than the Capitalist exchange of capital...I approve. I do, Sonny. May I call you that?"

"Sonny is fine, Jamie." I felt it then. That odd feeling that we might be great friends, circumstances being different.

"How about a step-mother. Would that be sufficient? Or her, ah, half-sister." He smiled then and looked away, as though avoiding my eyes. When he looked back into my eyes, I felt that connection, that he liked me and I him. He smiled again and nodded as though agreeing with a voice I could not hear. I hoped he wasn't, that it was an internal negotiation and not some delusion speaking to him.

"I have not been wholly honest with you, Mr. Duncan, Sonny. I know much more of your activities than I have let on and I want her but I want you too, for a reason all my own. I want to make this clear to you, Sonny, I wish to trade you my step-mother and her half-sister who has taken up residence with us in our town home in London. It is a bit cramped. It is a relief to travel, I confess. I want you to have them both."

I finished chewing and lay down my knife and fork.

"I must say I doubt you can deliver a half-sister, much less the step-mother. She surely has less affection for you than a real mother would have."

"If I could, so we are clear about the exchange rate here, that would be sufficient?" He pointedly looked at Alissa. "In exchange for her?"

"No." I said.

Jamie looked surprised as I intended and predicted. I felt that warm flush of confidence you get when you predict something accurately.

"Two for one is hardly a fair trade."

Jamie grinned, recognition and a slice of relief in his eyes.

"When you meet these two, you'll understand that you are getting shortchanged."

"Ugly? If they are not beautiful...."

Jamie held up his hand. "On the contrary, Mercy is my father's second wife and so, as you might rightly surmise, she is a trophy wife. She is duly shiny. She knows it, he says it and yet they behave like lovers. It is hardly a match made in heaven but they bring each other some happiness, which is better than none at all as was the case between my father and mother. Patricia, however, she is another matter. She is along for the ride and refuses to leave. She has undo mastery of my step-mother and I confess, of me. When you meet her, you'll understand."

Jamie tightened his lips and looked down at the table.

"I need to tell you something, that makes this a complex matter. Patrica is Mercy's half-sister and her aunt, not by marriage, by blood."

I chewed around that combination and could not get the pieces to make a finished picture. It remained a puzzle in my mind.

Jamie noted my confusion and explained.

"My step-mother's mother had sex with her husband and produced Mercy. Somewhat later, but not that long, she had sex with her very own father and produced Patricia. The aunt is a younger half-sister, having a common mother but two different fathers. The father and son have shared Mercy's mother for some years in obvious defiance of social acceptance. It explains why both girls were desperate to leave home. Mercy became a model and Patricia followed.

"They met my father and when Mercy married him, she brought Patrica with her. Both failed as models because, well, they have busts to be proud of. Putting them in designer clothing at eighteen would have been like putting a lamp shade on a chair. It might fit but not nicely. When Mercy hit eighteen, her bust assumed adult dimensions and two years later, Patrica followed her expansion with a fine, expansive pair of teats of her own. First, they switched from Mercy as the model to Patrica being the model and then, when the boobs grew, faced either breast reductions or rejection from the sisterhood of traveling runways. Mercy kept her tits and quit modeling, working to make Patricia successful. When Patricia's tits appeared and then overburdened her torso, they left the business and, as might be expected, sought a husband, successfully as it turns out. My father married Mercy soon after.

"I wanted to believe he was being magnanimous and not lusty but I was wrong. She and my father are as lusty as if they were of the same generation, embarrassing as that sometimes is. He's younger with her than even when he was young, I suspect. Patricia, not to be left out, seduced him too. Alas, now, those two women are wild for sex. My father is often away, and when he is home, he is faced with having sex with both of them and that usually leaves someone unsatisfied since his stamina is not what it used to be. They are quite open about their willingness to absorb all his sexual energy and when he is home, they do. The poor man rarely accomplishes anything while at home and must travel to wield any of his considerable skills in our business.

"As it turned out, I attended the London School of Economics and commuted from a flat in London nearby. This, together with my father's habit of leaving home to attend to business, just to escape his wife and her sister, led to a different sort of arrangement. Of course, given the boundaries or lack thereof, in their past, they have turned on me. I don't believe my father knows about this state of affairs, if you'll pardon the expression, but he may well find out soon, if I have to face that situation alone. So you see, if I offer them and I deliver them to you, and you succeed in putting them each to the sword, so to speak, then you would be doing me an equivalent favor. I would yield the two of them to you, happily, if you can interest and engage them, I would be pleased to release your woman from her collar and plunder her right sporting well."

I regarded him for a moment, imagining the complexities of the situation. I glanced at Alissa. She swept her hair back. Her chestnut eyes regarded me with tense stillness.

"No, still. I cannot take two for one, it just isn't fair." I grinned at Alissa's chagrin etched in her ebony features. She sat like a hound on point, quivering to be released. "However, I might be able to trade you Mrs. Honeywell and her sister, Mrs. Crawford."

Jamie's eyes widened. He stared at me for a moment, before glancing at Alissa. She looked as gobsmacked as he did.

"You can trade me her sister? Can he?" Jamie directed his eyes at Alissa.

Alissa turned her head to look at him.

"Most assuredly. I know he can. My sister, she'd be traded by Sonny just like I would be, or at least equally as willing." She smiled then, her white teeth gleamed. "I predict she'd have the same reaction to you that I have. Make no mistake, Mr. St. Vincent, if I had not had this collar on my neck, I'd have opened my knees for you two minutes after you arrived. I want you, Mr. St. Vincent and I wager my sister will want you as well."

Jamie kept his eyes on Alissa, drinking her in, taking her with them and she surely felt it, how his gaze invaded her.

"Your sister, is she as beautiful and sensual as you?" He asked.

Alissa nodded. "She's younger and she, she loves sex...." Alissa hiccupped then. "...with Sonny as much as I do but I think she'd be pleased to be distributed to another man just as I am."

"You like the idea of being handed around in this manner?" Mr. St. Vincent asked, his voice betraying his slight amazement.

Alissa nodded. She was going to speak further but I squeezed her thigh. She moaned and closed her eyes, tipping her head back.

"She has had quit a reaction to you, Mr. St. Vincent." I said.

The man looked sheepish, almost embarrassed.

"I know. The feeling is mutual. I arrived, committed to winning her from you, to show my father that I am worthy of the trust he has shown by allowing me to arrive here alone and on my own to manage the arrangement, Peppers, Bickerstaff and Kline is handling for us, and Mr. Kingston, do you know Mr. Kingston? A fine man but challenging to work with. It will be quite a boon for me if I can manage to make this connection to our benefit and his. If I can show myself capable of bedding this fair lady, I shall be doubly expecting of my father's praise and perhaps his grudging respect. I say only perhaps, though." He smiled thinly then.

I nodded agreement.

"Let me show you their pictures, Mercy and Patricia." He fumbled for his phone.

I guess I was thinking they'd be blond and look alike. They didn't. Despite the closed loop in their gene pool, they didn't look alike. Mercy had black hair and breasts. Patricia had a mop of brownish red hair that appeared dyed but accentuated the rapacious look in her eyes, at least in the picture. Her tits were a mouthful but seemed hardly enough to get her kicked off a model's runway. Then he flipped to a different version of her and saw that she'd grown out, not up. Her breasts were as big as her head, I swear it. Still, the attitude in common in both pictures demanded a brass pole, which I did not mention to Mr. St. Vincent.

"Good enough?"

"Do you have a picture of Messy?" I directed the question to Alissa.

Jamie waved his hand dismissively.

"Her sister would be nothing but lovely, I am sure." He nodded. "Good then? Alissa and her sister for my step-mother and Patricia, whatever she is, aunt and half-sister?"

I nodded. I guess I thought this could be managed later, in some distant future but that was a misapprehension of the situation.

Jamie grinned. He stuck out his hand and we shook.

"Who goes first?"

I shrugged.

"What did you have in mind?"

"I, well, I thought that perhaps now would be a good time."

I shook my head.

"She has to work. When would you be able to provide your...a Mercy and Patricia was it?"

Jamie nodded.

"Oh, we are all in town for the weekend. I'll need a little time to...shall we say, make arrangements."

I wished I could be a fly on the wall in that little tete a tete. I was amazed at my own success at lining up pussy to lay down and turn over and moan to me while I entered them and I was curious to know if he had some mechanism I might be able to copy, just for variety you understand. Then I reconsidered and realized I didn't need more variety, what I needed was lessons in consistency, a tactic I seemed unable to bring under my control. I smirked but barely and briefly, lest I be misunderstood.

"Suppose I, ah, see to my arrangements and we'll see about the trade when I have them made. I expect tomorrow some time."

I gulped.

"You understand they are in demand and you may well be lined up between others, right?"

Jamie regarded me, looked at Alissa and smiled thinly. He nearly had no lips but they were pink in a light way, but distinct, giving him a curious look, I tried not to say pretty but that was the impression I had, that he had that pretty look that women all want to mother and then they are surprised when the guy whips out a horse cock and rogers them into a screaming orgasm they can't control. He had that look, the look that said, be careful because I'll surprise you the moment you relax. It put me on guard.

"I am happy to have entrance to her granted at all. Dad will never believe me." He chortled, then sobered. "Bugger. What if he needs a distraction?" He grinned. "I think he has a fetish for oriental women."

I laughed, all full of pride of ownership.

"By god, I have just the thing for him. If he needs a distraction, I assure you I can put a woman astride him that will keep him distracted for days." Of course I was thinking of Annie.

"Hours would be sufficient I think. But I get your point." Jamie looked at me and smiled again but this time it had less of the tension in it. "Mrs. Honeywell, we have business to discuss then, don't we?"

Alissa moaned.

"I thought we'd, I mean, right now, I thought, you'd want...." She sputtered to a halt.

I patted her full thigh.

"Mrs. Honeywell, you will just have to wait. Waiting is good for you. Stew in your own juices and all that."

"I think I'm going to drown." She whispered, her voice twanging with tension.

I smacked her leg.

"Pull yourself together. Sid is counting on you. Go. Do what needs doing. I'll call you when we are ready."

She nodded.

I wasn't done eating but I stood and she hugged me from the side, bracketing me with her tits. I never get tired of that feeling, her tits pressed against me like that, her one arm around my neck.

"You have Friday. I'll arrange to have Melissa there but she might be a little worse for the wear. Saturday, I'll collect from you, however."

She gave me a dark look, the expression that she'd have when she found hand cuffs in her Christmas stocking. They left me then and I sat down to eat.

My fucking phone rang after two bites.

"Where the hell are you?" Ellen yelled in my ear.

"On earth, bitch, where are you?"

"On planet starving!"

"What? Are you unable to fend for yourself? Don't know how to order room service?"

"We were waiting for you."

"I had a lunch engagement."

"Thanks for telling us! We need to eat, something beside each other."

I cleared my throat but Ellen interrupted.

"Kidding. We have been good little girls. No one has come without you. It seemed unseemly to have sex with each other without you here. Are these two really mother and daughter?"

I shrugged.

"I am a little confused on that score myself. Does it matter?"

"It might. Not that it would change what happens next much, though."

"What happens next?"

"They are going to see me have sex with a man and his son." Ellen laughed evilly then. "God, that makes me so crazy hot. Am I right or not?"

"Not right, but you've always been a little tilted."

"Tilted! That's the right word. What have you got planned for us the rest of the day or shall we go shopping?"

"Go eat. I'll get back to you."

I hung up and cleaned my plate. The waiter came over and asked me if I needed anything else. I didn't. I just wanted to sit still for a while and breathe. After a while just letting my engine idle, purring along, I took out my phone and called Sam.

"Hello."

"Sam. Sonny. Listen, are you busy this afternoon?"

"Busy? You mean as in something I can't drop to do something else?"

"Yeah, like that."

"Nope. Not even a little. Fact is, I was going to go to a movie by myself."

"I have a different option." I was calculating where to be and where to go. I decided keeping Sam and Alissa apart for a while seemed sensible and resolved to keep the hotel room for a while longer.

"I'm listening."

"I have three women to divide between us. One, one wants to get it both ways, you know, like Melissa wants from you and Sammy."

"Jesus Crust." He muttered. "Crusty bread I mean. It makes me a little nuts when you say that."

"I get that, I do." I said softly. "I was wondering if you'd mind helping me out this afternoon."

"I...yes, okay." He sounded like he had half-swallowed a golf ball and was talking around it. "Then, then Melissa?"

"Tomorrow, till maybe five, then she has another adventure waiting for her but then by then I should have something else lined up for you. Tonight, I have someone else who'd like to the pleasure of your pleasure."

"No shit. I mean, no kidding. Gosh, Sonny...I thought I had it going on but you make me seem narrow and unimaginative. Say, have you seen Suzanne lately?"

Suzanne? I shook my head.

"You have no idea what that woman is into."

"I don't care what's she into, I just care about what goes into her."

I almost snarked about being too obvious but gave it up. I didn't want to rattle him before I got Alissa between him and his son.

"Well, plenty of time for that." I muttered. "You at your apartment?"

"I can be."

I wondered where he was but didn't ask. None of my business.

"I'll knock on your door in say, half an hour, forty-five minutes."

He agreed and we hung up. My phone rang again. I answered it only to find it was a text, no voice greeted me. Melissa was telling me her flight was on time and she'd be in on schedule around eleven tonight.

I left the restaurant and went back to the Sparrow. I found Ellen and the Travers girls, or whoever they were, still at table in the Sparrow Garden. They noticed me five minutes after I sat down. I hate it when women hit it off and chose not to notice I exist, as though they've sworn off dick. It is a horrifying feeling to feel the "ancillary" stamp on your forehead. I felt Ellen's tweaking of my male ego and managed to remain silent and still while they jabbered about shit I cared nothing about. After five minutes, I signaled the waitress and told her to bring me the ticket to sign. I put it on the tab for the room. I left them to finish eating and extended the room stay until Sunday night. What I needed with an additional hotel room to go with the downtown apartment, I didn't know but I had the feeling that I'd benefit from having both locations available.

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