The Adventures of a Slut Mommie Ch. 12

I was in the same position I'd been in earlier, but this time, my lover was dominant and forceful, just like I needed them to be. Freddy smacked my ass firmly before lining his throbbing member up with my dripping pussy and slamming into me.

Grabbing a handful of my lush, long, black hair, Freddy slapped my toned bottom and snarled, "Show me you're mine, slut Katie. Cum on your man's cock!" With that, he drove his hips forward, and Freddy's pelvis hit my firm, curvy ass with the power of a sledgehammer. Then, before I could take another breath, let alone comply, he pulled back, whacked my bottom again and growled, "I said, cum, slut Katie!"

So I did! It was tremendous. An orgasm the size of Mount Olympus exploded through my body. It was so intense that my whole body locked into a rictus. Even my throat muscles had cramped, preventing me from screaming my pleasure.

Happy with his performance, Freddy stroked gently into me while waiting for me to return from my low-earth orbit. When I shuddered and gasped, Freddy petted my back before firmly saying, "I want to cum on your pretty face, Katie. Kneel and suck me off until I'm ready to blow."

Freddy pulled out of my satiated pussy and stood back. I obediently turned and knelt. When Freddy grabbed the hair on the top of my head and pulled it back, I opened my mouth and accepted his thick 6-inch cock inside. Freddy pumped viciously into me for about a dozen strokes before pulling out and squirting his delicious man seed all over my beautiful face, ruining my carefully applied makeup.

Smiling happily, Freddy looked down at my cum splattered face. "You look so beautifully submissive kneeling before me wearing my cum, my little slut Katie. I'm tempted to make you stay like that until I leave, but you might have other clients, so I guess I should let you clean up."

Looking submissively up at the gorgeous young man, I quietly said, "I'm willing to take the risk, Sir. As long as you let me run behind the partition if someone does come in."

"Deal," Freddy agreed.

I moved onto my chair before my computer and created a new file for Freddy's investments. Then, I sent the documents I needed signed to the printer and printed them off before showing Freddy where to initial and sign. After he had, I scanned them and sent them back to my computer, deleting the unsigned files when I did. Then, after I'd taken his contact details, we were finished with the paperwork.

Freddy smiled and asked, "What's next?"

Handing him the signed copies, I replied, "You deposit your money in the bank account specified on the last page. Once you have, I'll invest them using the first strategy I outlined. If Sean has a chance in between working for his clients, he'll move them around until they match the second strategy. If not, he'll do it when he gets home."

"Smart alec," Freddy grinned. "I meant with you and me."

I looked at him levelly. "First of all, there is no 'you and me'. I am and always will be Sean's woman. I will train you how to be the man for a sexually submissive woman. If the Gawds be willing, that might allow you to attract my daughter's attention. I'll teach you how to show her that you're worthy of her and she's worthy of you. I'll teach you how to dominate her sexually so that her body instinctively reacts to yours. I'll train you how to make her feel safe in your presence, protected in your presence, and that, with you as her man, no one and nothing can ever hurt her.

"She'll know she is your most beautiful flower, your most precious gem, and that you would willingly lay your life down to ensure she remains protected. And, whilst doing those things, you stay calm, self-possessed, and in control of your emotions. Your physical strength she will learn to covet, but your emotional strength will allow her to be the best woman she can be. If you learn these things, become these things, then she will become the foundation on which you can build your life and wealth. And, with you as her man, she has her rock, her emotional centre that will allow her to become all she can be.

"Now, Mister Rick Singleton, can you take that journey with me?"

"Yes, my dear Katie. Yes, I can." Freddy stood and kissed my cum-messy lips. "I'll see you here tomorrow at one."

I smiled as Freddy opened the door. "Oh, Freddy?" I said sweetly. He turned to look at me. "Unless you're taking me to the beach or a park, I'm not the girl to take out if you're wearing only a T-shirt and boardies or a pair of jeans."

Freddy grinned and left, closing the door behind him. I put my romper back on and went inside. I needed to shower, change and redo my makeup. At the last second, I remembered to flick the telephones over to the answering service.

Twenty minutes later, I was back at my reception desk. I opened my online course again, hoping something had come through for me to do. Unfortunately, there was still nothing. Remembering, I turned the phones back to live and checked the messages. There was a message from a client, so I called him back. Unfortunately, I wasn't able to help him immediately, so I promised that Sean would get back to him that day.

Checking the time difference, I realised it was only three-thirty in the morning in Hamburg, where Sean and Kristy were. Instead of texting him, I wrote a quick email outlining the problem--the client needed to free up around three million dollars to inject some much needed cash into his distribution company--and sent it for Sean to attend to when he woke up.

With nothing else to do, I indulged my weakness and read some erotica on one of the two websites I liked. I realised again that almost every story was written for a male audience. Even my confessions are written believing it would be mostly men who read them. I briefly considered trying to write something specifically for women. However, I decided that most readers would probably still be men, and they probably wouldn't enjoy the more romantic stories we women preferred. Maybe if enough women write to me asking for one, I'll try writing an erotica story explicitly aimed at a female audience instead of just writing my confessions.

As I mused the logistics of writing specifically for women, my stomach reminded me it was time for lunch. Looking at the time, I decided to take my lunch break now. Replacing the 'closed' sign with one that read 'Currently out of the office. Please call 07 ---- ---- and leave a message'.

After turning off the computers and lights, switching the phones to the service, and locking the office doors, I walked to my kitchen and began making lunch for myself and my petite, beautiful South American lover. A knock on the door interrupted my preparations. After quickly washing my hands, I dried them as I walked to the door.

Opening the door, I almost staggered back away from the fumes as a heavily intoxicated Patty breathed, "Well, hello, dahling," in her best imitation of Patsy Stone from Absolutely Fabulous. Worried, I checked the driveway, thinking Patty had driven herself here. Understanding why I was looking, Patty, still in her best Patsy Stone, said, "Don't worry, dahling. Ah'm not so basic as to drive when Ah'm skunked. Ah caught an Uber with an absolutely dahvine Indian man. The bustard wouldn't roger me, though."

I helped Patty inside, guiding her into my living room and onto the couch. I sat beside her, and she virtually fell against me, burped and started crying. Knowing she was about to vomit, I pushed her upright and raced to the laundry to get a bucket. Luckily, I returned in time to hand the bucket to Patty. She tried to smile at me gratefully but had to lean forward as the alcohol in her stomach exploded up her oesophagus, out her mouth, and into the bucket.

Sympathetically, I held Patty's long, dark brown hair away from her face as she emptied her stomach's contents into the bucket. Only once have I ever been sick on alcohol. I was eighteen, and Sean and I had argued over some little thing. Angry, I'd drunk almost an entire bottle of cheap white wine before finding out that drinking that much was a terrible idea. Of course, I hadn't realised I was pregnant at the time. But drinking when you're pregnant? That made it doubly bad! It took a year before I could face alcohol again.

Eventually, Patty had nothing but dry heaves left, and after a final one, she fell back onto the couch and passed out. Relieved, I fetched some towels from my linen cupboard. Bringing them to the sofa, I rolled Patty onto her side and then wedged some towels behind her to prevent her from rolling onto her back. I placed another towel under her face in case she drooled or hiccoughed vomit and set yet another on the floor under her head in case she vomited before I could return with the bucket.

Charmaine returned from her uni course as I walked back into the living room, holding the cleaned bucket. Spotting Patty, her eyes widened, and she ran to my side. "Just a little bit too, well, a lot too much to drink," I reassured her. "Come on. We'll get something to eat while waiting for Patty to sleep it off."

Seeing my partial preparations, Charmaine asked, "What can I do to help?"

"Umm," I thought. "Maybe slice some lettuce, tomatoes, and whatever else you want in your salad. I was going to fry some chicken slices in butter and Moroccan seasoning and do a warm chicken salad."

It didn't take us long before I was mixing the fried chicken through the tossed salad. Charmaine had added mushrooms, sliced spring onions, red and green capsicum pieces, and grated carrots and cheese to the lettuce and tomatoes I'd suggested. After sprinkling a balsamic vinaigrette over the salad, we took it out into the warm spring sunshine and sat at the outside table.

Despite the heavy pollen spores, early spring is a great time of year in Brisbane. It doesn't get too humid until the second half of spring, and the nights are still cool enough to encourage cuddling. I didn't like it as much as I liked late autumn, but it was still a fine time of year to be outside.

Charmaine and I ate as we chatted gaily about everything and nothing. We ranged around subjects, sometimes laughing and giggling like schoolgirls as we discussed the hot girls in Charmaine's classes and the TV shows she watched. At other times, we discussed world events like the ongoing crises in Ukraine. My husband and daughter were in Germany. Though they were more than fifteen hundred kilometres from the conflict's borders, it was still too close for my comfort.

Feeling thirsty, I gathered our lunch dishes and walked inside. Charmaine followed me. I smiled because I knew she was admiring my sexily swinging ass as I walked. After putting everything in the dishwasher or away, I was about to open a bottle of wine because I'd purchased a bottle of Orlando Lyndale Chardonnay to share on a special occasion, and I wanted this time with Charmaine to be special for both of us.

Then I remembered that Patty was passed out on my couch and thought, given how badly she would be suffering when she woke up, it would be rubbing her nose in it to drink. So, instead, I made a pot of Earl Grey tea. Charmaine, who had hopped onto the breakfast bar, watched amusedly as I brought out the wine and then put it away.

She thanked me for the tea when I handed it to her before putting it on the countertop and spreading her arms and legs. Taking the hint, I moved between her slender but shapely thighs and pressed my voluptuous breasts against her toned stomach before tilting my head back so she could kiss me with her full, pouting, soft lips. Of course, Patty chose that time to stagger from the living room into the kitchen. Stepping back quickly, I turned to one of my besties and blushed.

"Don't let me drive you from your Sapphic embrace," Patty airily stated. "I quite enjoy those, too." She stumbled closer before muttering, "Dry as a nun's cunt. Need something to drink."

I did it! I just typed that word without having to take a deep breath and almost close my eyes! It helped that this is how Patty typically speaks. Patty, one of my oldest and dearest friends, has always had a rather pithy prose despite being a doctor and my many attempts to clean up her language.

Before Patty could fall over, I guided her to a seat at my kitchen table. I poured her an Earl Grey tea and added a dash of honey, as I knew she liked. Patty sat at the table, holding her head and staring vacantly into space. I put the tea before her and sat beside her. "What's up, honey?" I asked.

"What makes you think something's up?" Patty asked, turning her teary, bloodshot eyes to me.

"Let's see," I replied. "It's barely past midday, and you're sitting in my kitchen, drunk as a skunk and hungover to all heck. You're crying, angry about something, and about to take it out on me. Oh, and it's barely past midday, and you're drunk as a skunk! Patty, you and I have both sworn, at various stages, to stay off the booze, and if we couldn't, at least not to ever drink enough to get drunk again."

Patty puffed up as if to give me a mouthful of abuse. But then she realised she was about to fulfil my prediction and deflated almost as quickly. Instead of yelling at me, Patty collapsed, and huge, racking sobs shook her slender frame. "I left home to do the shopping this morning," she wailed. "I got to the supermarket, put everything on my list in the trolley and went to checkout. But when I went to pay, I realised I'd left my purse at home."

Patty paused as her sobs took back over. Knowing something had hurt her badly, I sat beside her and moved my chair close enough to hug her. I noticed Charmaine gesturing she'd give Patty some privacy and go to her room. I nodded as Charmaine turned and walked out.

"What happened when you got home, babe?" I asked, guessing whatever happened then was what had set her off.

"I walked into the lounge, and Mason was blowing Billy."

Mason was our friend Allie's brother. Mason was a 'tail-end Charlie' child, some twelve years younger than Allie and closer to my kids' age than Allie, Patty or me. Billy was Patty's husband.

Billy and Patty had never wanted children. Maybe this was my first real clue as to why not. Of course, given my adventures over the last few months, I was in no position to judge Billy. Billy was the only 'outsider' in our group. The rest of us had been friends since we were in primary school. Allie's husband, Paul, had played in our high school's First Thirteen with Sean and Mike.

The problem was that I was in a quandary and had no idea how to respond to Patty's statement. I mean, Kath and I had a close lesbian relationship. Mike was bisexual, and heck, even my husband, Sean, had tried sucking a cock, just to see what it felt like. Patty hadn't seemed to be homophobic, and she certainly wasn't religious, so that wasn't the problem.

I imagined coming home unexpectedly and finding Mason blowing Sean. Would I be bothered? Before my sessions with Edgar Fontaine, I probably would have been. No, actually, there is no 'probably' about it. I'd have been equally as devastated as Patty was now.

"Is it that you're worried that Billy's gay or that he's having an affair behind your back, Patty?" I asked.

Patty shook her head. "I knew Billy was gay before we got married," she announced, shocking me to my core. "It's that he says he's done with hiding what we are from everyone and living in a sham marriage. He wants a divorce because he's going to marry Mason."

Wow! The punches just kept coming! Then, I filtered through my mind what Patty had said. I started as I realised what she'd indicated. "Wait," I hesitatingly replied as I ran through her words again to ensure I'd heard correctly. "Patty, are you gay?"

Crying harder, Patty sobbed, "Congratulations, Katie. You're the last of our group to work it out. It's only been what? Twenty years?"

"But you and Billy got married right after Sean and me," I protested. "You were never amorous with any of us girls, even when we were teenagers, and most of us were experimenting to at least some degree."

"We married each other because our families were becoming suspicious, Katie. You know what a religious fruitcake my mother is, right? Well, Billy's parents attend the same church and are worse. We married to keep them off our backs and to hide what we are."

"But, heck, Patty," I pointed out. "It's the twenty-twenties. Nobody cares these days! You could have come out years ago, and none of us would have cared."

"Thirty million," Patty quietly said.

"Thirty million what?" I asked.

"That's what Billy's and my combined inheritance is worth if we stay married. His parents are pissy enough that we've never produced an heir. I told them it was my fault because I was infertile. That shut them up because divorce is a big no-no in their church. They wanted us to adopt, but smelly nappies, eww!"

"So, you're this upset because you're losing some money?" I asked doubtfully. "Patty, that doesn't sound like you. You're a doctor, for goodness sake! You must have a fairly substantial nest egg."

"Sean looks after my investments, babe." Patty pointed out. "I'd better have a sizeable nest egg, or I want you to serve me his knackers on a plate!"

"Did you change your accounts over to Sean's new business?" I queried.

"Not yet," she replied. "I wanted to make sure Sean could be as good on his own as he was when he was with Pepperstone. I can tell you that my shares aren't producing as much as they were when Sean managed them."

"A subject for another time," I said, wanting to move our conversation back to what was truly bothering her. "So, Patty, tell me what has actually got you so distraught. No more rubbish about Billy having his cock sucked or red herrings like massive inheritances. Tell me, what's up your flat, bony ass?"

Patty's face crumbled, and fresh sobs burst from her chest. "I don't want to be alone, Katie!" She wailed as I took her back into my embrace. "We agreed we'd be with each other in our dotage. That we'd look after each other come hell or high water. We were supposed to be each other's rock. The one person the other could always rely on. We're best friends, not lovers. That's how best friends are supposed to be for each other.

That, I could understand. I felt similarly when Sean and I were having trouble. Yes, I was bothered by the fact that I had no assets or money of my own, but I knew I'd get a large enough divorce settlement to be okay. Things would have been tight until that came through, but my parents would have helped me through until then. The thing I feared most was what had my friend feeling so lost and abandoned. The loss of her best friend, the person she'd never imagined being without. No wonder she was sobbing into my shoulder and crying as if she had no friends and nothing left to live for--she was feeling abandoned. I knew exactly how that felt!

I held my friend until her sobs tapered off, and she sat up. I smiled sympathetically at her before I made a fresh pot of tea and sat it before her. "I'll be back in a second," I told her. "Charmaine and I were going to do something together this afternoon. I want to let her know we'll have to try again tomorrow."

"Don't let me interfere," Patty said, trying to infer she'd go home but not moving from the chair. "I'll grab an Uber and go home."

"You're going nowhere in that state, honey," I told her. "Wait there and drink some tea. It'll help with the dehydration and headache, plus it'll settle your stomach. I'll be back soon."

As I walked to Charmaine's room, I called Kath and explained what was happening. She sympathised with Patty and offered to pick up a change of clothes from Patty's place after she'd finished work and meet us at my place. I told her to grab a few days' worth because I wanted Patty to stay with me for at least this week. Kath agreed that was a good idea and promised to call Courtney, Maggie, and Allie--the rest of our 'girl gang'.