Okay... Ch. 04

Something about the encounter with Officer Cocksuck didn't sit well with me. I very well may have ended her marriage, and that was the first time I had dragged someone I didn't even fuck into things. The selfies I made her send to her friend and eventually her husband had been hot as hell, but some tiny grain of a conscious grew on that and worked its way under my skin. In the months that followed, and only to avoid that guilt again, I tried to stop using the power so much. Encounters with strange women took a decline in frequency and franticness. I typically knew their names after I fucked them, and in time even before.

My liberal arts degree finally got me a job. It even came with a little plastic badge stamped with my name and keys to the mall. Night security was pretty alright. Once an hour half of our two-man crew had to patrol the lot. When they were done, the other left his station at the monitors and did a walkthrough of the interior, mostly just to stave off falling asleep. Most of the guys I worked with were still in college, and I got to posture myself as The Man That Had Actually Graduated. Things like that kept my ego satiated when I wasn't feeding it women whole.

One night, the last in a long line of failed bookstores was holding inventory. Out in the lot on my patrol, I saw her smoking on the loading dock. I pulled in just to make sure it was one of the employees, and not someone I had to call the cops on.

Her name was Rene, and she was lovely.

It took everything I had to get her phone number without asking. In honesty, I don't even recall how it happened anymore, but I was positive I hadn't used my kooky-brain-powers on her. It went that way for a while too. We went on dates just like normal people, and I remained confident I hadn't muddled her mind. Eventually I came to be sleeping at her house more often than my dad's, and then I didn't stay at his house at all.

It worked for months, and it felt good. She wanted to be with me because of me, and not because I told her to be with me. I loved her. She was all I wanted to wake up to in the morning and go to bed with at night with.

One day, I started to doubt it all though. It was a simple and calm disagreement about who got to be on top that night. The argument ended when she said a single word in a cold tone. "Okay." The gut punch of that word forced the idea that I could be a normal person out of me like stale air from my lungs. She came to say the word more and more. The relationship weighed on me like the lead vest at the dentist. I loved her, and inadvertently I was blotting her out of existence.

I couldn't stay with her any longer; I couldn't take watching what I was doing. My father took me back in again, and my stepmother begrudgingly agreed. Last time I had stayed there for any length of time it was right after my graduation, and they had been on an extended vacation. Now though they were home.

Since their return I had seen them only a few times. My stepmother, Gwen, was unpleasant enough that avoiding them was worthwhile. Adding to that was the awkwardness that came with seeing Tammy at family functions. When I called my dad he was out of town on business, but assured me that I could move back into the house. He said the room I stayed in last time had been converted to an office for Gwen's real estate business, but that I would be welcome to stay in Tammy's room.

Gwen greeted me while I was still in the driveway. "You just had to fuck up again?" That scowl must have been chiseled directly into her skull, she never went without it. I didn't know Tammy's father, but I'm guessing she inherited a lot from him. The only physical aspects Gwen seemed to share with her daughter was the lower half. She kept in shape, and like Tammy, her legs were long, tanned, and would have looked at home on an anatomy study in marble. That day in the driveway she was wearing her tennis whites, and it may as well have been her twenty-year-old daughter's legs being shown off. In contrast to Tammy, she actually filled out the top pretty nicely too. Those may have been purchased though. Hell, as a real estate agent, they may have even been a business expense.

I lifted my only bag out of the back seat and said, "I guess I did." I slanted a half smile at her. It didn't change her expression.

"Listen you little shit," she shook her racket bag at me to punctuate, "You are out of here in one damn month this time."

I shrugged at her, and walked past toward the door.

"That's four weeks."

"I know that's four weeks, Gwen." I opened the door and stepped inside.

"Do you?" The scowl was enshrouded in the façade of a mean smile. Unlike Tammy, her face was actually kind of pleasant if you could ignore the ugliness coming out of her mouth. "We put you through freshman math 6 times. I was starting to think you couldn't count."

"And eventually I passed." I closed the door between us. There was no part of me that wanted to be staying there again. Futile attempts at a normal life had fallen apart under me without even knowing it. Gwen's efforts to shame me for returning were nothing compared to the shame already in action inside of me.

Normal was all I wanted to be, and it had become clear that I never could be.

In the refrigerator there were two apples, a jar of mayonnaise, a bag salad, and a box of Franzia zinfandel. I poured myself a tall plastic tumbler of wine, and walked to my room. It wasn't my room anymore, I had forgotten. The office was as plain as plain could be. There was a 5-in-1 printer, a calendar, and Gwen's laptop.

Tammy's room was further down on the left. Nothing in it was actually pink, but somehow it all managed to have that tint about it. The closet was still full of her clothes, as was the dresser. In the top drawer, there was the very bikini I had choked her out with. A smile crept on my face. I had maybe found the one fond memory that house held for me.

On the bed I thought about Rene, and Officer Cocksuck. Linda's niece made a short appearance in my mind. I took a long drink of the wine. Things started to coalesce in my brain. When it came together into half an idea I nearly ran to my old room.

It was right there on Gwen's calendar, the Saturday before my dad got back, written in red sharpie. My way out. "Freymont Condominium Open House."

I grinned down at the tumbler of wine and we went to bed together.

Sure that Gwen's laptop was somehow guarded by her malice deeply enough that she would know I was touching it (I imagined her dropping her racket mid-swing, and shouting my name to the heavens) I went about finding details for the open house online using my phone. Freymont Condominiums was a renovated factory, 22 units, and all of them were vacant and for sale. My stepmom was the selling agent for the whole complex. It was expressly adult living, no kids would be living there, and that made it perfect for my plan.

That Saturday I leaned on the hood of my Toyota, baking in the Arizona sun outside of the Freymont Condominiums. The listing had done it justice. It was a lovely old building. In any part of the country trendier than Phoenix it would have been repurposed into art lofts decades ago. In the rearview I made sight of Gwen pulling up in her SUV. She was wearing a pale peach skirt with a matching blazer, and a plain white blouse. I got up to meet her on the sidewalk outside.

"Gwen, hi." From the other side of the building I waved.

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

"I wanted to talk to you some about the house."

Instead of the racket bag, she shook her briefcase at me. "We can do that AT the house." She sneered at me. "This is not the time or the place, Mike."

I made like I didn't understand what she meant, and said, "You should have worn something lower cut."

Her face flashed disgust, and her hand covered her already covered cleavage.

"I don't think it would hurt your chances at a couple sales today to unbutton that blouse some. Would you like to do that?"

The glare didn't leave her face when she said, "Okay." Seemingly without her approval her hands worked the top two buttons open, showing a completely respectable amount of cleavage.

"I don't think that's enough."

"Who cares what you think?"

The grin cocked back on my face. "Just one more. Do you want to unbutton one more?"

Sneer locked on her face, she blankly said, "Okay," and with as much anger as the action could have behind it she unbuttoned another button. With that done the black lace edge of the cups of her bra where plainly visible. She heaved a heavy breath at me and glared. "Happy?"

"No." Her glare continued in reply. "Are you seriously wearing a bra?"

"Yes, Mike. I am seriously wearing a bra."

"You must have paid a fortune for those, and you're not even giving them a chance to help pay themselves off. I bet they stand up fine on their own. Don't you think you would have a better chance of selling a unit or two today without it?"

"I don't sell cleavage, Mike. I sell condos."

"Won't you just try to go without it?"

Her face scrunched to say no, or to tell me to fuck off, but her voice betrayed her. "Okay." Her hands worked under her jacket and in no time she was pulling the white satin and black lace bra out of a sleeve. She hastily tucked it in her briefcase.

"Now what about your panties?"

The reality of the control I had was starting to erode her glare into fear. "What about my panties?"

"You wore panties to an open house?"

In a pleading tone she said, "Mike, please."

"Can I see them?"

"Okay." She pulled up the front of her skirt and showed a pair of white satin and black lace panties that perfectly matched the bra.

"Matching underwear? I thought you sold condos?" It didn't take me long to think over why she would bother with matching underwear while my dad was out of town. "You're cheating on my dad, aren't you?"

Her mouth stayed silent, but her face spoke the sad affirmative of a kid caught shoplifting.

"Can I have your panties?"

"Okay."

She slid a hand under her waistband and slipped them down as fast as she could. It was one of the least sexy ways I had seen someone doing that. She pulled the hem of her skirt down, and lifted a foot to pluck her panties from her shoe. She handed them to me in a wad. I frowned at them in my palm. I dropped them on the sidewalk. "Cheating sluts don't get panties. Are you going to stop wearing them?"

"Okay."

"Even at tennis?"

She hesitated, then swallowed hard and said, "Okay."

That was about all I had planned on doing. Show her I could make her do whatever I wanted, get her to do something reasonably humiliating, like working an open house with her tits practically hanging out, and then use it as a subtle threat in the future to get her to back down. See if I could get enough fear in her she would stop being so damn unpleasant. The realization about the matching underwear though was like a gentle push at the top of the ski jump. I looked at her with cold eyes, accepting that things were about to get bad fast for her.

"Can I give you some advice on your pitch?"

"Okay."

"Let's go in first." She led the way to the front door, leaving her panties in a pile on the sidewalk.

The condos were pretty nice. Thirty foot ceilings on both floors, and every unit had floor to ceiling windows on one side. Most of the second floor units had massive industrial skylights, and lofts above the kitchens.

Inside she led to the first unit on the left, which would serve as her office on site until all of the units sold. She opened the door with a tap card, and walked inside and set her briefcase on the kitchen counter. "Why are you doing this, Mike?"

I had kept walking into the kitchen, and with my head in the fridge said to her, "Why wouldn't I do this?" I took a Miller High Life out of a case stocked for her clients, and as I opened it said, "First man touches a business card today, you should offer to suck his dick."

She choked on the word I knew was coming. Before she could get it out, the door opened. "Is this the open house?"

We both looked, and from the corner of my eye caught Gwen's tense posture slacken as she realized it was a woman, and she was off the blowjob hook. The potential client wasn't too bad to look at either. Older, and thin, dark in tan and light of blonde in the way only Arizona money could pull off. Her teeth gleamed an unnatural white, and her face showed the telltale signs of a lift sometime in the last decade. The simple, ankle length linen dress she wore likely cost more than I had spent on every scrap of clothing I had made it out of Rene's with.

The smile façade rolled over Gwen's face again. "Just about an hour early, but come on in!" Her eyes flashed at me, victory behind them.

The woman at the door said, "Oh good." She turned and called over her shoulder, "Jeff, the realtor is here already."

The man's name dropped dread on Gwen's face like a hammer. I watched the idea that she may get out of this get crushed under it. It felt pretty nice.

As the man walked in, Gwen tracked him across the room with a worried expression on her face. Jeff was tall, broad, and had a blonde crew cut. He was likely half his companions age, but I quickly accessed they weren't related. There was something about him like a young Rutger Hauer, if not for the name I would have guessed he was European. Sure enough, he walked right to the island in the kitchen and within a few seconds had a business card in his hand.

Gwen tried to delay, but couldn't. With no tact at all she made her offer. "Can I suck your dick?"

Stunned, Jeff and the woman he came with both just looked at her for a moment, then exchanged confused looks. I hadn't expected a couple when I made the suggestion to Gwen. It was clear I would have to smooth this out a little. To the woman I said, "You could watch if you like."

She pushed her sun-bleached hair behind an ear. Under the tan I'm sure she blushed a little. She turned to Jeff, and softly said, "Okay."

Given the go-ahead from his sugar-mama, Jeff didn't waste much time. His pants were open, and his dick getting hard in no time. A look of anger tore out of the side of Gwen's face at me as she took to her knees.

Smiling at the sight, I dug my phone out of my pocket and said to the whole group, "I'm going to take some pictures if that's alright."

As Gwen took the hardening cock in her mouth, there was no pleasure behind her eyes. I snapped a few pictures with my phone, then picked up Gwen's and took a few with hers. Like her daughter had, she got right to business on that thing, probably trying to make it get over as fast as possible. I said to her, "You don't need your hands."

She glared and dropped her hands to her lap, I snapped a picture with her phone.

I moved around the island and got another beer out of the fridge, I thought about offering the guests some, but figured I was already being mighty hospitable. The blonde woman hadn't stopped staring and was now blushing over her tan. As I came up to her side, said, "Nobody is going to care if you play with yourself a little."

Looking at me with her mouth partly agape, she said, "Okay." In a flash her dress was pulled up around her waist, hand plunged down the front of her plain white panties.

I snapped a couple more pictures of Gwen, and took a sip on the beer. The blonde woman wasn't paying any attention to me at all, but I brought her out of her fog a little by asking her, "Do you want to make her suck it harder?"

She started to say something, but the start of a small orgasm over took her.

"Come push on her head, make her take it deeper."

Her reply came stuttered, "O-okay." Facing her young boyfriend, she grabbed two handfuls of Gwen's hair, and pinned the back of her head to her pubic bone. Gwen winced from the hair pull, but the cock never left her mouth. Slowly the blonde woman started rocking her hips, working Gwen's mouth over the cock like my stepmom was nothing more than a silicone sex toy.

Leaning forward slightly, Jeff kissed the blonde woman passionately. She started grinding her crotch into the back of Gwen's head like a teenager that just figured out how to hump the arm of the sofa. Constant coughs and gags of protest came from Gwen mashed between their hips.

Gwen's reflex hit hard and the other two took notice of her for the first time in a minute or two. Free of the pin for a moment, Gwen coughed hard. Drool trailed from her mouth and started to stain into the lapels of her jacket.

My stepmother looked up at me with anger in her eyes. I snapped a picture and said, "Give your throat a break. I'm sure she wouldn't mind if you ate her out for a bit."

The blonde said, "Fuck no I wouldn't."

Gwen hesitantly turned to face the woman, and crotch was ground into her face in no time. The mess of Gwen's drool and the other woman's pussy blended and smeared all over face and inner thighs alike. Shortly the stranger was groaning and had to lean back against the island to maintain her balance.

Jeff was content to watch for a moment.

After a second mini-orgasm rolled over the blonde, I made eye contact with her, and suggested, "She'll eat your ass if you want."

Both women were too breathless to reply, but the blonde took a moment to shed her dress and drop her panties, then turned to face the island, bending at the waist to lean on the counter. Gwen hesitated until I said, "Don't you want your tongue up her ass?" After a single sharply dejected breath, Gwen jammed her face into the other woman's ass.

I snapped a few pictures, and said, "Get it nice and ready for Jeff's cock." The blonde's constant groans bled into the background like the sound of a nearby train after you lived with it for a decade. After another moment, I said, "Alright, go back to her pussy to keep out of his way."

My stepmom, still fully clothed except for her abandoned underwear, crawled between the other woman's legs and went back to eating her pussy. I snapped a picture of the blonde's soaked and twitching asshole just before Jeff moved into place. He slowly made his first thrust and the blonde's ambient groaning turned to a gasp then a constant stream of seemingly unrelated profanity.

Jeff hit his rhythm and in a flash the blonde was twitching around a bigger orgasm than the last two. Her pussy gushed, liquid from it trailing off Gwen's chin and into her expanse of cleavage. The white blouse was soaked enough to cling to her, and turn slightly transparent. The blonde didn't stop her twitching. As her orgasm grew in violence so did Jeff's thrusting. After another moment he finished quietly, and took a deep breath and a seat at the same time.

His cum began trailing from the woman's ass while my stepmother dutifully continued with my last suggestion. I said, "Gwen? Why don't you come back around this side, and clean up Jeff's mess?" My stepmother dropped her head to look at me through the part in the other woman's thighs. Her face shone with the smear of her own saliva and the other woman's secretions, her eyes were expressionlessly stunned. Lipstick was rubbed across her cheek, and eyeliner blurred into the tops of her cheekbones. She parted her swollen lips and tonelessly said "Okay."

As she crawled around the side I snapped a picture of her listless expression. Once in place she caught a slow drip on the inside of the woman's knee on the tip of her tongue and followed it to the source in one long motion. She lapped at the other woman's gaped asshole, clearing the outside of Jeff's fluids. I said, "He came really deep in there. Make sure you get it all." Gwen stuck her tongue out as far as it would go, and slid it into the open ass before her. Her thick lips sealed around the blonde's asshole. The groaning started again in competition with the slurping sounds Gwen was making. Eventually I was satisfied that Gwen had got it all, and said, "Alright. Go get cleaned up for this open house." Gwen stood and all but ran to the bathroom.