Extending the MILF List Ch. 26

Gaining the Goshawks & Introducing "The Slut Club"

RECAP: read the previous episode, the path to darkness continues.

Bruce was at his usual place and appeared quite self-satisfied. When I asked about the relative calm, he told me indeed my suggestion had been beneficial. He thanked me actually. I asked about the Goshawks...he said the dyke coach couldn't accept that there were no more rooms, no space, and she had to go elsewhere. She was freaking out and Edward was getting practice at public relations. The rooms were double-booked and the Goshawks had to go somewhere else.

I pointed to a cluster of three Goshawk women, clearly not players, that is not volleyball players, huddled together in the midst of the girls lounging and pouting still in the middle of the lobby.

"Who are they? The MILFs?" I asked, they were rounder, fluffier, plusher but Goshawk dressed the same as the girls.

"Sponsors. Rich bitches who are part of the college faculty...wives I think, not professors. They all offered us plenty of money, entitled, demanding. Cunts."

"Cunts should be fed." I muttered and sauntered over to the three women as had been my germinating plan.

END RECAP

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I had a flash of stepping through another door, or the same one again as I had just done with Pet. "I understand you all are out in the cold?" I said softly. "So to speak. Perhaps I can help, marginally." I kept my eyes focused on the imposing looking woman with the broad hips and blond aspirations but grained hair that made it look faux. Her eyes were somber, serious, almost harsh, all challenge and daring, daring me to do something.

They all turned to look at me, stilling whatever conversation had been in progress. None of them spoke. They just looked at me. One had curly black hair, the other was full unapologetic blond. They were all plush and rounded in a pleasant, curved sort of way but with the appraising eyes of experience that some women get and others never wanted. A screeching shriek from the redheaded coach across the way made the curly-haired brunette cast a glance in that direction. The true blond glanced at the gray-eyed wonder with the faux blond hair.

I waited an inordinately long time but none of them spoke. They displayed none of the eagerness of we underclass people who get by in life by trying to please and thus bribe with what we do possess namely charm, gratitude and obeisance. These were females of a different genus. I didn't out wait them, but waited only long enough to acknowledge that they had me at a disadvantage. I was out to alter that condition.

"I have room here, a suite actually. It has two bedrooms, oh, no, three, so six beds so still not enough but it's better than nothing. I might be able to offer it to you all, if you can find nothing else."

"Not likely we'll find anything, this town is room tight as a virgin's ass." The brunette snarled.

"Why would you do that?" Cool Eyes asked, matching my soft tone with her softer tone, ignoring her lurid companion.

"Because I can. I only took the room while my condo had some work done...they weren't scheduled to be done until Wednesday but I can see if I could move in early, let them work around me." A guy, young, at my age, with a condo, that told them a lie bigger and more important than my reference to work being done that was not being done so if it were done, when it 'twere done, it would be done already so, yes, 'twere well it were done quickly. Just so. "I am Sonny. Sonny Duncan. I am a student at the university in town. I gather by your duds, you all are here for the volleyball tournament?"

The actual blond nodded, smiling a little, glancing at the not-actual blond. "Yes, the tournament. That's so nice of you to offer, but I am sure we'll figure something out."

"Fuck that, take it." The brunette hissed. "We called every hotel within a hundred miles, you want to drive 2 hours every day to get to the games?"

Cool Eyes looked at her and when their eyes met, the brunette was abashed into silence. Cool Eyes returned her gaze to me. "Why would you do that? You still have not explained your largess."

"Every good deed is suspicious, eh, lady? Projection or the remnants of lost innocence. Thought I'd offer...but I get the suspicion, no worries, back to my luxurious suite then." In TV dramas the "walk-away" is used in every show, so much it is cliche and tired, but it is a cliche because it does work so often. I'd only taken four or five steps when Cool Eyes spoke again.

"We'd be happy to pay for the room." She said blandly, so blandly I wanted to salt her words, but of course I couldn't do that, so I salted my own, eventually. "Money is no object," she continued. The last was said a little primly. Too primly, bordering on conceited pride. Must be nice to feel that way about money. I doubt I ever would, but god, I'd like to try that out.

"I see. Let me check with Bruce to make sure that such an arrangement would not ruffle the official feathers or fluff up some administrative umbrage." I left them then and sauntered back to Bruce who was watching me, us, had been, I noticed when I sidled around to include him in my field of vision.

"Keep looking official." I hissed, as though he was going to break into avuncular bon hommie and clap me on the back. "To be honest, I am considering offering the poor little Goshawks my three bedroom suite for the weekend. No one would be offended by the gesture, do you think? Tramont or someone?"

Bruce shook his head. "No one will grouse, least of all Tramont." He gestured towards the screeching redhead with the broad hips and narrow waist. "She's been at Edward for twenty minutes and he's taking all she has to dish out. Tramont's been watching and wants no part of her!"

I nodded. "The coach, she has lots of practice I suspect. Yelling I mean. At the team, the referees." I glanced back at the MILFs. "I am surprised they haven't engaged you."

"Oh they tried. Money is no object they said, but I was strictly denied the option of taking any bribe to arrange the rooms, other things only. Tramont had that well in hand and didn't want anyone tangling it up. There are some VIPs who needed tending too, a convention in town, and the tournament...the combination of storm fronts was volatile." He looked at me then, nodding. "They did offer me blow jobs, one each, they said, if I could get them a room." His thin lips smiled thinly, barely a smile, but on his impassive face, jocularity, jocularity, jocularity.

I shook my head. "Not even a proper fuck?"

"I daren't hint and they didn't offer."

"Whores, then. Cheap whores, to boot." I said as casually as possible.

Bruce nodded slightly. "Good luck. I have the feeling their price is high if you manage it."

He'd read my mind. I grinned and left him to return to the MILFs. "He says there is no difficulty with it. I need to make some arrangements though, to be sure I have a place to retire to for the weekend."

"We'd be happy to pay, cash is fine as I presume you don't take credit cards." Cool Eyes said, tongue firmly in cheek.

"Oh, that would be awkward. It's been taken under a corporate account and taking money for it would be like stealing from the company, which is frowned on, you understand." Another shaded lie, but hardly an untruth. I doubt Howard would approve of me soliciting a volleyball team at the same time I was trading for his family females.

The three MILFs glanced at each other.

The brunette was smiling openly but Cool Eyes remained impassive. She spoke. "We should do something to show our appreciation." She said, dead pan.

"Funny you should say that." I replied. "My assistant, she's a woman emerging from the delight of motherhood, empty nest and all that, who has discovered that she enjoys watching the display of coitus. She's at me constantly to feed her new, peculiar appetite." I stopped. My eyes touched each of the women individually.

"You want to fuck one of us?" Cool Eyes said, making it a question with her tone but it was hardly that.

I found her eyes with mine, resisting the urge to undress her with my questing eyes, I'd done that while discussing them with Bruce, to be honest. MILFs in every facet of their beings. "You." I said softly, meeting her cool gaze with my own savoir faire stare. "Or your daughter. If she is on the team." I hesitated just long enough. "You for the week, but your daughter for the weekend."

"Oh god! Take me!" The brunette said immediately.

I shivered, deep inside, now knowing for certain I'd not breeched their innate sense of etiquette. That is, they could all be had.

"Shut up, Connie!" Cool Eyes hissed, not taking her eyes away from mine. "Why me for the week? Sara just the weekend?"

Oh, yes, another good assumption hitched to my star! "I would suppose that you would need time to adjust to being a fuck toy where a younger version of you would be more...shall we say, amenable?"

Cool Eyes did not respond immediately. I'd never play poker with the woman unless I could sit her with a mirror behind her so I knew what she was thinking. Like that would help...she would know how to use her tits, keeping her cards close to her chest so to speak...so not likely too helpful. Finally, after a good, long wait, much longer than polite company would gladly endure which I am not apparently, she cocked her head just slightly to her left, twisting her chin to the right, giving her that slight coquettish cast that harkened back to younger days when a weekend would have been enough for her too. I had this feeling that I put to words that said she had taken my measure and decided I wasn't to be trifled with. After a lifetime of being looked past by family and friends, it was an entirely new experience for me to feel that sober regard, and with no flinch, even a little. Mr. Blue was proving profoundly prescient.

"I'll tell Sara. Now? You want her to go with you now?" Cool Eyes remained cool eyed but when her tongue reached out and swabbed her lips, upper left to right, lower right to left then out of sight and slowly like a statement of purpose or anticipation. She just didn't seem that cool any longer.

"Oh no, you must ask her. I have a high regard for consent and will take her only if she agrees to the arrangement."

Connie snorted, like a pig, not politely at all. "Consent? You are making her fuck you so we can have a room to wash our cunts in. Hardly sounds like consent to me!"

I turned to fix my gaze on the brunette MILF. She looked startled, like she thought she was on the radio only. "Oh you misunderstand me. This is not a price, or in trade. No quid pro quo as far as I am concerned. You wished to do something for me, that is my request. The room is yours regardless, if she, Sara, agrees, or not. In fact I'd suggest you let her know the options but she's your daughter," my eyes swung back to Cool Eyes. "...so that's up to you." I smiled then, making "unctuous" into a verb somehow. Another long wait, like my reality router was lagging.

Cool Eyes finally nodded. Not sure what it meant but at least she was responding. She then held out her hand, a delicately boned hand not pudgy as some MILFs become once the baby fat fades. "I am Veronica Chreswell. My friends call me 'Ronnie'." She spoke with a slight curl to her lips that almost appeared to be distaste.

I accepted her offer and shook her hand, once up and down then escaped the clasp. "Veronica, I am pleased to meet you. I am Sonny Duncan." Another lag in the real net, and then she turned around and walked away. I watched her ass. She was a woman of dimensions and her gaze dared anyone to make something of it...she was broad of beam as they all were but she did the catwalk model stride that made her hips wobble back and forth in a very alluring manner.

"She has a great ass, doesn't she?" Connie the brunette asked.

"Connie!" The genuine blond gasped.

"What? Jam? Not like you haven't seen it riding Rex before."

"Connie!" The blond gasped, again.

"What? This guy knows what's what? He asked to fuck her or Sara...think he doesn't suspect that she hasn't had our husbands before?" The woman glared at the blond for a long moment then turned to me. "She fucks our husbands and doesn't share hers."

"My god, Connie, stop!" The real blond whisper-shrieked.

I looked at Connie then as Veronica had cut one of the lounging girls out of the herd, er pack, no, no, flock a flock of Goshawks sure...and was talking to her intensely...both glancing in our direction. "You seem resentful, Connie is it?"

She nodded. "This is Jamaica Evers. She's the sluttiest prude you'll ever meet. We all got bred the same time so our daughters are fast friends like we are, as if they had a choice."

I regarded Mrs. Evers with the same gaze I'd learned from Mrs. Chreswell. She dropped her eyes and fidgeted in a way that calmed me. I glanced away to give her some reprieve, that did not calm me the more for I fixed my gaze on Sara Chreswell, to find her staring frankly at me. She was upright, as most of the girls were with some lovely well-breasted exceptions, one they called "Bullets" stood out under the observant eye...in fact a surprising number of the Goshawks had tits to be proud of, to be remarked on, to be handled, to be exposed and otherwise attended to. Sara, however, did not. She was volleyball lean but with a swayback that appeared only when she turned to the side away from my eyes, responding to the steady patter from her mother. She had a shabby pageboy cut of orange red hair that tended to release bangs over one eye or the other, making her look constantly disheveled. Her shoulders were broad, squarish with straight sides that tapered down to the waist, narrowed over flared hips atop her slender legs, shorter than her torso. She had her mother's delicate bone structure and that even gaze that pinned whatever she looked at like a butterfly collector, gathering each detail with those steady green eyes. She turned away from staring at me and the brunette was talking...still.

"We all were students together, volleyball players, which is why we are the sponsors, now, I guess. We all picked a professor and fucked him as students and ended up bred, with our lovely daughters. Our guys are still teaching and this is our life now."

"Connie, must you always tell everything you know? Hush up. He doesn't need to know any of this!"

The brunette didn't seem to like to be hushed. She kept speaking. "Ronnie fucks our husbands but god forbid we ever have John fuck us! No, we are the straight and the narrow and she's cock queen." She'd have kept babbling but the arrival of said cock queen and her princess off-spring silenced her. Jamaica Evers glared at her but it seemed more like her best attempt to not look at me.

"Mr. Duncan, this is my daughter, Sara."

The girl regarded me with nearly the same gaze her mother employed but with lesser effect. "I guess I am going to take one for the team?" She said.

When no one spoke into the ensuing pause I could not help but contribute the thought her body inspired. "One? At least, I should think." I smiled a little smirk that despite her defiance, made the orange flush rise in her cheeks. When I kept my eyes fixed on hers, she dropped them to the floor. Eyes may be more like a leash on life, then windows of the soul.

"How do we do this?" Connie asked, by now I'd taken her measure, the other two were less forward and open.

"Sara, get your luggage, I'll tell the others you are staying with my aunt and uncle. When will the suite be ready?" Cool Eyes fixed on me, steady, frank, but still appraising. Sara eased away and walked to a knot of girls to get her bags.

I glanced at the clock in the lobby above the desk. "I think a couple hours would be enough. I have some arrangements to check, to settle. I suggest you go get something to eat and be back by say, three? We'll meet here and I should have key cards for you, three or four only, more would be, um, conspicuous? Oh, I'll arrange with Bruce to take your luggage so you don't have to lug it with you."

"How may beds did you say it has?" Connie fairly growled. "I don't want the rug muncher sleeping with us."

"Connie, that's enough now. We agreed that we'd hire a dyke after the last one fucked Rex." Cool Eyes said, placating the irritation the woman's voice left in the air.

"And John! And Julio!" Jamaica interjected, a sort of desperation in her voice. I was unsure what that meant.

Mrs. Chreswell glanced at the blond out of the corner of her eyes but kept focused on me.

"Three rooms, two beds in each. So you will need sleeping bags, there's an All Sports a few blocks away, not sure which direction, I'll have Bruce direct you."

"Are we going to let the dyke sleep on a bed with the girls or what?" Connie growled again.

"Connie, that's enough I said." Veronica turned her head and glared at the plush brunette woman.

"Easy for you to say, she didn't make a pass at you!" Connie shot back.

"This is not the time, we'll work it out over a meal. Now hush up. No need for Mr. Duncan to get a whiff of our dirty laundry." The last comment made Connie smile in a way that suggested she liked fresh air, sunlight...and exposure. I don't think Mrs. Chreswell noticed but I did. "Thank you, Mr. Duncan for this. It is any port in a storm but a port nonetheless. We'll work out the details. I'll have Sara 'wait' here for my Aunt and Uncle, when we are gone, you can have her." The woman smiled a bit at that. "I mean that as it sounds. She's been very robust in her claims to manage her own sexuality, to be sexually free, this is one time when she can make her round heels a benefit to the rest of us."

Speak of dirty laundry, and dirty laundry appears. I didn't know what to say and under the new regime of Sonny, said nothing. I did get the feeling that the whole illicit sense of my proposal appealed to Mrs. Chreswell, including this offering up of her daughter to me. The undertones and undertows were evident but not well-defined. The implications left much to be explored.

I left them then, not willing to be further embroiled in whatever internecine squabbles were brewing up into a brouhaha. I went to Bruce's podium. "Bruce, the Goshawks will be occupying my suite. I have some arrangements to make before I vacate it. I'll be out by say two-thirty. Could you hold their luggage for them and then deliver it between two and three? Oh, and can you provide say twenty, no twenty-five sets of towels and extra pillows? They will use sleeping bags to augment the bed arrangements. They'll need directions to that All Sports that is around here somewhere."

He nodded and I turned to leave but stopped and turned back to him. "I do appreciate your help with this. If you'd like, you can stop by the suite between now and two-thirty for a blow job...from one of the girls." I almost stopped with the offer alone, leaving it general but realized mid-sentence that I didn't know which team he played for so thought it best not to leave it ambiguous lest he had a different style from mine and would get the wrong idea.

He grinned then. "I hope you are getting something out of this." He said, sotto voce. Sara was tugging her roller bag towards the clot of MILFs with another slung on her shoulders. I nodded at her. "Her. I traded the suite for her."

"No shit! Good man!" Bruce muttered, his eyes with mine on the upright and strong stride of the girl.

In that moment, another inspiration struck me. "I don't know if it matters but I could release the suite Monday, maybe. I need to check something first."

"I think Tramont would be very happy if you did. The VIPs would appreciate it as there just haven't been enough to go around. What about the Goshawks?"

"That's what I have to check, to see if I can sort them out. If I can, I expect they will all get laid this week." I hesitated. "If it works out, I'll let you know and maybe there is one or two you'd like to have yourself?"