Extending the MILF List Ch. 23

That night she went to bed early and I stayed up late studying; this was before Karen...I think. I was behind...not irretrievably so but I wanted to go into spring break with it all caught up...and a B average so I could get back to fucking. That was my thinking until it dawned on me that was blister rules and I resolved to ignore my sister bitches. Makes you wonder why I didn't fuck Mavis Percival right? I argue it was the fucking gods and my obeisance to them but who knows. I was not aroused and horny, I took that as a divine sign and focused on studying. Karen took the edge off then, and blunted the desire by leaving me uneasy and unsatisfied, which adds insult to injury considering I'd cum twice that I recall. Something was missing, or off, or missing, or missing. It took some time before Mavis's words about watching soaked in and Karen became an option. I lured her into our bed for Mavis so did not think I was irritating the pussy gods. My PhD in rationalization, in the American not the British sense of the term, came in handy. The truth may be that I was doing all I could to make it true that I thought Blue Man was my hallucination.

The next day, Thursday, I was back to keeping track of the days of the week by which classes I needed to attend, I did just that, went to class and studied. I was still discombobulated. I studied through the weekend. Mavis brought me food and I went for a run a couple times out in the fucking cold which made me think I was nuts...before I discovered the gym in the hotel. Easier. Better. By Monday I was seeing daylight and had hope of getting caught up. When I saw my friends, I went the other direction. My crisis persisted despite the interlude with Karen. Whenever I thought about it, I thought of Mavis and how she enjoyed the show and felt bad that I wasn't catering to her desires more, but I renewed my focus on school. Fucking "just" for her pleasure just seemed wrong, I just couldn't do it, which worried me a little. And that worried me a little more. I was a mess so focused on studying so I didn't worry about THAT! I gave Mavis a taste then dumped her on the wagon. It wasn't spite, just...confusion? When I saw the guys, I found I got increasingly irate at their role in the ambush.

The truth is that I still felt the conundrum and was wondering if indeed the Blue Man was real, just like he said. When I wasn't focused on classes, I found the conundrum sitting in the middle of my mind. My friends seemed to be there too and I had no wish to inject their opinions into it, which would surely make it worse and not better. The intervention had done its job though. I wasn't fucking anyone, at least not regularly, no one for me, I rationalized, since Karen was for Mavis. Right. I didn't feel a panic like I'd pissed off any fuck god. Studying was good. I felt okay. Monday I went to Econ and had missed that it was canceled again. I checked with administration to find out what was going on and they told me it had been moved again but was not scheduled until Wednesday.

I focused on other classes, knowing I was likely getting behind in Econ. I just closed my mind and focused. It was wonderful in an odd sort of way. I was making progress and went to Econ Wednesday and sure enough, it was right where they said it would be on Monday but this time it was Wednesday. A week had passed since Karen fucked me and I felt the lack as a dull ache that I pushed away, to maintain focus. I sat through class, distracted by Mrs. Olivette who kept glancing at me and smiling to herself. I got the message at the end of class when she told me she needed to see me, "please." Mr. Cock woke up and started rousing and grousing about how bright everything was and could I please pull the shades or whatever it took to make things darker...the little bugger knew what he was doing...no darkness is darker then the one-eyed spy master buried deep inside a wet pussy, the subtle little shit.

I decided I would see what Mrs. Olivette had up her skirt, just an expression since we all know that survey was done and well done. I sat working in my seat until the lecture hall was empty. I didn't look up or do anything. I was gradually getting caught up but honestly, I didn't want to go home or back to the hotel room where Mavis was likely to still be waiting for me to give her another floor show. I felt either dirty or exposed, maybe both but I was unclear if it was because I'd given her what she wanted or because I hadn't repeated it.

It was like a test of wills, I wanted her to beg and she wanted me to bring home another minstrel show for her to watch and I resisted that for some reason, well, for lots of reasons, but not because I wanted to frustrate Mavis. We were polite but never explicit, not discussing what we were doing because it was most assuredly very different things. She was very patient and it felt comfortable to do my thing with her auditing my every move. The different purposes had not clashed yet so it wasn't clear to me what they were, hers or mine, though our discussion had clarified that. I guess my lack of clarity was internal and all about Sonny!

Why didn't I just tell her to go away or why didn't she just suck my cock and then mount me like she clearly wanted? I do not know. Or was that me doing the "wanting" in that sentence? See? Confused. The whole "watching" thing confused me such that I wasn't sure if I should fuck her or not. I knew I didn't want to troll through the List and bring one of them to the room for Mavis to audit, at least not yet. That, I realized, eventually at least, felt like using them and that didn't fit me, which gave me the first glimmer of the flaw in my buddies' ideas for how to put them to good use, being too many for Sonny to wrangle on his own, went the logic. Fifty is a lot, I had to admit.

So it was me and Mavis in a Zen state of sexless acceptance and that meant I was gradually catching up on my school work. I just worried if I'd ever fuck again, which drove me to study harder just to avoid that thought. I kept telling myself Karen didn't count, which sort of insults her, doesn't it? A week was a long time and I couldn't add Karen to the roll call without shifting it to a "Sonny thing" instead of what I wanted it to be, a "Mavis thing". I felt all noble for helping her out and not just being all hard cocked about it. Karen had done her part but nothing was resolved, and that itself unnerved me enough to remain in a state of blissful terror of what all this could mean.

"Mr. Duncan?" Mrs. Olivette's voice echoed through the lecture hall, unfamiliar and empty. I looked up and saw that we were not alone. "I have my daughter here for you. Please come down and let me introduce her."

I was still slow. By slow, I mean things were not making sense to me in the broader world where I was motivated to focus on my classes instead of being alert to the presence of highly willing pussy. I thought I should be focusing on school and surprisingly enough, I could. The reason was that the broader world made no sense, none at all and thinking about it would hardly altered that. So I focused on school and tried to tell myself that not fucking for a week was not a problem or an omen of things to come, or not come as it were. I don't believe in omens. I do believe in pussy though and how it interfered in real life so people had to choose between fucking and all the other shit we do with our time. I think the vast majority of people choose other stuff and fuck by reflex or something because mostly the trains do run on time and planes don't fall out of the sky because the pilots are blowing each other and bump the stick and kill themselves and everyone else. Yeah, that got dark in a hurry. Mr. Happy wasn't in charge of my mental broadcasts anymore. This was my mood then, dour and dark.

I got up, put away my things and walked down the steps to where Mrs. Olivette stood. A woman, girl really but older, older than me but with a disposition that made her seem younger. She had dark sandy brown hair that she didn't comb out of her eyes so just one eye was clearly visible. She was slender, so unlike her plush mother that I first figured she was adopted until she spoke. Her voice was the same contralto of Sandy Olivette's. They were clearly genetically mother and daughter.

"This is Candice, my daughter. Candy." Mrs. Olivette said softly. "I am giving her to you to fuck, so you will fuck me again. Some more."

My fucking phone rang before I had time to analyze that logic. It had rung before and I just wasn't talking to anyone. The slow and dull stance in life left me without any inclination to discuss anything with anyone. I answered now just to distract me from what was in front of me. Turns out that was a silly idea. Mrs. Olivette told her daughter to undress and by god, the girl did, stripped naked right there, standing to do so then sitting down with her heels right under her lean ass, and letting her legs loll open showing me her bare shaved pussy with beads of moisture making it sparkle like dew on a March morning.

It was Landon.

"Dude. You aren't answering your phone!"

"Dude, I just did." I felt the bitterroot inclination in my body. "What's up?" I strained to remember this was my friend and the full feeling of the intervention finally arrived at my doorstep and I nudged it with my toe, wondering if I wanted to open up to it.

"I wanted to see you, talk over our idea." Landon said.

"I hate your idea." Sonny was not being all amiable. I wanted the conversation to end so I could fuck Candice here. The name rang a bell and I realized something was wrong. Damn, another duplication in my world. That thought led me to Carol Lynn and Jason and wondering if she was going to pursue me and then being struck by the thought that she was likely waiting on me. That led to a list of females who were likely waiting on me to do something...Laura needed to be taken back from the Romelingames, Caroline was promised Lovely, Sophia wanted Rebecca Kline. Shit, all these lesbian aspirations confused me, even being a straight lesbian myself...Landon was talking.

"You didn't believe that shit about making all your women into hookers, did you?"

"Yes. You don't know how to kid, Landon."

"Are you pissed?"

"They're mine." I spoke with a sudden explosion of conviction that had been fulminating behind my sternum since Sunday last. Then I got an idea. "Come to the hotel and we can discuss it."

"Okay. When."

"When I'm there." I said. The silence that followed told me he was actually waiting on me. I had to decide something and realized I'd been avoiding that. I'd not been avoiding fucking necessarily, just the need to make a decision not dictated by school work. I also realized that my mother was manipulating me from China. I also realized I wanted her back and for a moment, thought about calling her and telling her so. Then I thought about Sid and Annie and the lay down assistant gig and Hassum...all these things were coming to me without me straining to make it so and that suggested straining to gain control of it all would be like throwing a rock into a school of fish while I was fishing. Then I thought of the Blue Man and whatever order I'd managed vanished, like the fish and he was the rock! Enough silence. I needed to answer.

"Friday night." I offered.

"Okay." Landon said. In that simple word I felt something had shifted without my noticing.

"Bring the guys."

"Chris can't. The play is on, Thursday is opening night, they run through Sunday afternoon."

"Oh, then Sammy and Brett. Say, eight." I wondered if Mavis would still be there. If she was, she was liable to get fucked. Having made that promise to myself my eyes turned on and I studied the naked female sitting in the theater seat on her heels, which butterflied her knees, a finger casually rubbing her pussy, specifically her prominent clit.

"Eight. See you then." Landon vanished from my mind. Candy's clit was huge, easy to see as she flicked it idly back and forth with her finger. Each time she did, her torso flinched and her eyes flickered like that was the only sensation that mattered.

"She's naked." I said, looking at Mrs. Olivette. The woman nodded like agreement would be important.

"I told her to undress so you could see that she is perfectly willing." I looked back at the girl.

"Candice is it?" The girl puffed up like a cobra.

"It's Tracie...mother calls me by my middle name because she's a bitch." The girl spoke and her rasping voice verified the relationship for me again, which I had doubted. I shook my head.

"Honey, everyone likes Candy." Mrs. Olivette husked, her voice rattled like she had a whisk caught in her throat.

"Are you telling me that she can just hand you off to me like this?"

The girl looked at me with something like contempt. "I'm naked, aren't I? What more do you want? Suck your cock?" The girl said with a bit of a sneer. Mrs. Olivette nodded vigorously.

"I am sure he would like that Candy. Though at least you could be formally introduced first." Mavis grinned what could only be a rapacious grin. "This is Sonny Duncan and he made your Mother cum good in her office." I got the distinct sense of an undertone that would prove to be an undertow and pull me under if I let it. I was focused on school again and didn't want this distraction...but a naked woman is a naked woman. Now I don't know how your brain works but occasionally mine tends to just ignore stuff. This was a case in point. Little Candy Cane had a collar on her neck, black leather with a D-ring on it. You would think the brain would notice something like that on a woman's neck but her naked body and her casual tweaking of her overly large clit had managed to obscure the fact that she had a collar on her neck from my awareness. Noticing it, I got a funny twitch in my main digit. The fact that I'd gone days, nearly a week now without fucking a woman obtruded into my mind and I got rock hard.

This naked girl was her mother's offering to me! Sandra Olivette was offering Candi to me as a bribe to fuck her again. Little Fella want a piece of Candy? I kept toying with her name, changing the spelling, thinking of her in different ways. Candy? Tracie? I shrugged, no matter. Something did matter though. For real. Nothing about her suggested she objected to this sort of treatment. Something about the dynamic between these two gave me pause though. Some have said that men have no intuition...likely the same people that said women can't shoot hoops or fly a fighter jet. Still, vive la difference...but I knew something was not according to Hoyle.

I think my casual and non-acquisitive inspection of the naked little dish unnerved my Econ teacher and she began to jabber like a parrot on speed. I dipped into her stream of consciousness finally and registered her words enough to respond, sort of.

"I know this seems unorthodox..." She'd been describing how her daughter came to look so utterly comfortable flicking her click, er, clit in this setting, all interesting, all ignored until my mind dipped and I found something to say.

"Ya think?" I interjected into her flow, feeling irate and sarcastic after talking to Landon. Sandy Tits ignored me.

"...but I assure you she is well trained. My husband, Edwin, he was such a disappointment to his father, his parents divorced when he was young. When Candy came of age, she went to live with her grandfather and returned to us, ah, like this....trained. And well, we have been at wits end as to what to do with her. She's...compliant as you can see but when it comes to Edwin and I, we simply don't know what to do with her. With anyone else, well nearly anyone, well with some people, well with a few men she's...very well behaved but with us, she's a sarcastic hellion. The contrast is breathtaking so we, Edwin and I thought maybe she'd...I did promise her to you, that day, if you made...er...satisfied me and so on the off chance that you might, um, be pleased with her and she decided to please you...Candy is 23 and very well trained...I have a leash and wish you would take her home with you and, well, have her." Mrs. Olivette's face was drawn and tense...unlike her body which seemed to be fully lush and I bet if I investigated her knickers she'd be plenty damp, wet, maybe dripping. Her normally unfriendly look was mostly twisted up into a visage of need mixed with fear.

I waited again, more. I wondered, actually had this thought in my head, if this was what it was like to be schizophrenic...feeling two utterly incompatible things in my mind at the same time? I was nuzzling around this thought and Mrs. Olivette who no one would mistake for being shy, passive or otherwise retiring in personality thought of my silence in an entirely different way.

"Oh, okay, yes, Edwin has fucked our daughter!" Sandra Olivette snarled, her more natural disposition making a return, like a tribute band muscled off the stage by the aged original. "And yes, I admit it...I have been neglected...."

"Feeling neglected, Mother!" Candi or Candy Cane or Tracy or whoever the little naked female was, her actual name would eventually appear, she interjected her correction with a daughter's courage and received no more notice from her mother than one would expect from a wife for the woman having sex with her husband.

"...and having her out of the house, even for a few days..." Mrs. Olivette stuttered to a stop.

"Is what you want?" I finished for her, and honestly I don't know if it was kindly of me or not. Mrs. Olivette, however, nodded. Not vigorously or with that sort of energy that makes one think the agreement was counterfeit or otherwise artificial but with the sort of motion that bespoke urgent pleading with fear of being refused and rejected. Supplication is the word that fits. And the woman was the supplicant. I am and likely always will be a soft touch for supplications...particularly one that includes me taking a naked girl home with me with a clit the size of my thumb and naked like Candy Cane was. I knew this clashed with my sudden burst of student focus and I had one female already in the room I was sleeping with and not fucking already...so there was that and the complication it suggested. I got all practical, maybe as a dodge, I admit but really I was measuring the coffin I was about to bury my reservations in.

"Do you work?" I asked softly, eying Candi's collar and feeling vaguely unsettled. My collars were classy, silver and gold...at least in color and this was clearly a pet collar, a leather dog collar and nothing less.

"Daddy doesn't let me work." Candi Cane said, suddenly affecting the breathy voice of a sex object, the bratty sneering burr in her tone was gone. I was thankful for that. "Not my Father Daddy, my actual Daddy." I pretended that made sense, which it didn't. I turned my eyes to Mrs. Olivette.

"There's more to this story than you are telling me, isn't there?" When she nodded, I had the feeling I was smart. I considered the naked woman for a moment, slender, naked...but I said that once...her eyes had a bright insouciance about them that made the way she stroked her pussy and teased at her prominent clit aggressive, even defiant. I had the feeling this might be a problem being handed to me that I just didn't need...but still...naked!

"Tracie, I don't understand what's going on here but I think this is not your idea. What do you want?" I hadn't planned to ask her that but when I did, it had that feeling of being a good idea and I relaxed a little though by then, my eyes couldn't help but lock onto the collar around her neck like it was huge and impossible to miss.

"You fucked my mother?" Candy Cane or Tracy or Candi or Tracie said. I automatically nodded. "You gave her the orgasm?"

"Orgasms." I amended. Sandra Olivette blushed furiously down into the scooped front of her dress where her massive tits begged for attention. As usual, they had mine. Tracie smiled thinly. She nodded.