Things to Be Thankful For

Eric held me close, rolling onto his side and drawing me tight against his chest, letting me press my face against his shoulder. I don't know what came over me, but I wept for the longest time and Eric just held me, said nothing, stroked my hair and waited for me to calm down.

"You are full of surprises." I whispered as I nuzzled his neck, totally at ease with Eric, despite only ever being this intimate with Parry before today. Ok, Helen too, but she's not a man.

"Helen said you liked it slow."

"Did she? That girl really likes to kiss and tell." I wasn't too surprised; Helen had told them about seducing me after all.

"You don't know the half of it." Eric said, rolling onto his back and drawing me across his chest to buzz me briefly but warmly.

"Meaning?" I was curious and hoped Eric was as indiscrete as my daughter.

"She'll tell you herself, when she thinks you're ready to hear it all."

"Hear what?"

"Meg, I'm not Helen. I can keep other people's secrets." He brushed away a few hairs from my cheek and the last of my happy tears.

"Then please don't tell anyone I cried."

"I won't tell anyone anything. It's much more fun being enigmatically silent."

"You wicked boy." I kissed him again. "Oh. I've lost you." I felt his penis finally dislodge itself from inside me.

"I'm sure you'll find me again, if you want to."

"Would I be the first if I didn't want to?"

"The third."

"Tell me about them. Or is that still kissing and telling?"

"Ok. Back in high school, a lot of girls were frightened off by my size. It was one of them that nicknamed it Moby. Girls used to dare each other to go out with me but I didn't get more than heavy petting. I was technically a virgin until prom night but I'd fingered or eaten out half the girls in my class. I'd got really good at that stuff too, which was important when I got to college because a girl has to be very ready or I'll hurt her. That's what happened on Prom night. Too eager & too forceful, I didn't get invited back."

"Poor boy. And the second one?"

"Kelsey the virgin. But she was sore because it was her very first time. She was eager enough the following morning though."

"Well I'm not about to be number three." I found Eric's penis with my hand and moved to meet it, guiding him into my still tender vagina. I eased back, pushing the limits of how much of him I could take at once and feeling overwhelmingly full. I sat up, pressing my hands onto Eric's chest for support and slowly gyrating my hips. It's a position Parry likes a lot and I hoped Eric would too. Just like my husband, Eric reached up to maul my breasts, rolling and tweaking my nipples as I rocked back and forth on his penis.

I do like slow lovemaking – Helen was right about that – but sometimes it's nice to go faster and I wanted Eric to feel free to exert himself too. I speeded up, bouncing and twirling my bottom on his lap and moaning loudly as he pulled harder on my nipples. By the time I felt my first climax building, Eric was holding my hips to stop me falling off the bed and was thrusting up to meet my flanks. As I wailed and came, losing all sense of rhythm, I felt more hands on my body, caressing my buttocks and breasts. I didn't care. All I cared about was the orgasm that was lifting me to heights I'd never reached with Parry. I didn't care about that either.

I crashed back onto the bed, dislodging Eric, and saw B stretching out on the other side of him.

"I came to see what all the noise was about." B said with a lascivious smile and a glance at my glistening crotch.

"I think I know why you and Helen have to share him." Eric had been left high and dry as the column of hard flesh curving up from his crotch attested. "I reached for it, curling my fingers around it: my fingertips wouldn't meet. "Sorry, Eric. I can't take any more of that right now." And I was sorry. It's not polite to leave a man standing when he's been so gallant.

"I'm used to it." Eric moved a little and got an arm around each of us. B's hand joined mine on his penis.

"Eric has great stamina." B explained. "It's great at parties. But I think you and I have some unfinished business." B looked at me across Eric's broad chest then glanced meaningfully at my crotch. "May I?"

"Oh. I guess…" I lifted one leg, crooking the knee, and B squirmed out of Eric's embrace to come around to my side of the bed.

"Just a moment." Eric stopped B from diving between my thighs. He freed his arm from under me and hauled himself up the bed into a sitting position that left Moby lying along the valley of his thighs. Then he lifted me bodily onto his lap, lying back against his chest for support. Finally, he urged me to lift my legs and caught hold of my knees, spreading me wide. "B?"

B didn't need asking twice. I don't think she needed asking at all. In moments, her innocently pretty face was slick with the mingled juices leaking from my vagina. This parody of the birthing position left me so open it was impossible to keep Eric's semen inside me. B lapped at it hungrily, working up each of my labia in turn and finding my clitoris frequently. She was like one of those chimps that've learned they get a treat every time they press the red button. B kept pressing my clitoris with the tip of her tongue just to hear me moan with lust and pleasure. Every time she worked her way back down to my vulva, she went a little further until, when almost all the traces of Eric had gone, leaving only fresh female juices, B's tongue chased a rivulet of glistening moisture across my perineum and circumnavigated my anus. I gasped. My internal muscles clenched and another trickle of pearly fluid squeezed out of my vulva and crept towards B's tongue. She saw that as a green light and probed at my sphincter as the trickle of lubricating juice inched towards her tongue.

"Touch yourself." Eric husked against my ear.

He was still holding my legs up and apart but both my hands were free. I obediently reached for my own clitoris, fanning it vigorously.

"Listen." Eric whispered. Along the corridor, we could hear the unmistakable sound of Helen climaxing again. It was the final straw for me and I added my voice to the chorus of lust as my fingers blurred over my clitoris and I came with B's face pressed into my vulva, her tongue darting right inside me as I trembled and writhed in Eric's lap.

B's ministrations sent a few little aftershocks through my abdomen but I could only lie there on Eric, all passion spent.

"If you ladies will excuse me…" Eric eased my weight off him and back onto the bed before getting up and striding to the bathroom, his still ready erection proudly leading the way.

B settled herself beside me, her head on my shoulder, and toyed with one of my nipples while I relaxed in post climactic fugue.

"I used to do that for a living." B said softly.

"Do what?"

"My gap year. I worked for a woman who was too rich to use plastic toys. She hired me to be her living sex toy and one of my duties was to clean her after her husband had finished fucking her."

"No!" I was shocked: Not that there was someone out there so decadent, but because it was hard to imagine B would just sell herself like that.

"No, because I was getting paid to do it?"

"Yes… I guess… its so demeaning." I was more than a little shocked to be hearing this. Oh, I know B has an entirely different set of rules from most people and she's making a career out of showing the world her most intimate secrets, but… this?

"But all those moralistic rules about not being free with your affections were made by men to keep women in their place – in the home.

A woman should save herself for one man. Why? Nature equipped us to be able to enjoy sex much more often than one man is capable of. Three to one is about the actual ratio.

A woman who sells her favours is a whore. But a woman who let's her family sell her isn't? Money changed hands for women since it was invented. Sometimes I think that was why it was invented. Dowry, bride price, a whore's wages: Not a lot of difference really. And who values me more? The boy who's bought me drinks all night in the hope of a grope or the man who paid a thousand dollars for an evening with me?"

"A thousand dollars?" Despite myself, I picked up on that one detail.

"See? I give you all that rationale and the one thing you ask about is the money. I've never accepted money from anyone I wouldn't have fucked for free, but I have accepted money and rather more than a thousand a time. That's one reason Eric calls us his courtesans. He insists on paying us too."

"Us? You and Helen?" My daughter?

"Yes."

"Oh my god." My daughter…

"But before you go into shock, Meg. Remember that we're talking about the same girl whose been fucking you for over a year and has, by the sound of it, just finished being sodomized by her father, your husband."

"But."

"But whoring is wrong? More wrong than incest or sodomy? You said 'oh my god' but according to the bible, there's precious little difference between those three sins. If anything, whoring is the least of them.

Meg." B moved so that she could look me in the eyes, her palms on my burning cheeks. "Helen and I are emancipated women who enjoy sex. You may have noticed. Making men think they're renting us is a lot better than having them think they own us; a delusion that every guy who gets a girl into bed for free seems to share. We're happy with our lives. Be happy for us." B punctuated her plea with a kiss. It took a few seconds for the shock to wear off but it did and I returned her kiss warmly. B has a way of making everything seem reasonable. She should have studied law.

"I'm just going to see if Parry's died happy." Eric announced as he passed the foot of the bed on his way from bathroom to bedroom door, towelling himself dry as he went. Glancing past B's ear I noticed he was still mostly erect.

"I need another shower too." I eased B away from me. "Then I should think about fixing something for lunch."

"I'll help." B volunteered, moving off me. "Service washes were another of my duties when I was a sex toy." She drew me to my feet and into the bathroom.

"Apart from your beauty, your sweet nature and your complete lack of inhibitions, what does Eric see in you?"

"Oh, that's easy." B giggled as she turned on the shower and urged me under the hot water. "He's into me for my brains."

Somehow, I believed that. But I didn't believe it was the only reason. A 'service wash' from B turned out to be a most relaxing and tenderly intimate procedure. When I expressed an urge to get out and attend to my bladder, B just told me to cut loose where I was.

"The water will rinse it all away." She pointed out and I found myself peeing in front of another person, standing up. Only Parry had seen me pee before, and that had been on a proper toilet. B waited until I'd finished then unhooked the showerhead and played the jets over my crotch at close range, washing me clean. Then her soapy fingers worked swiftly but gently into every nook and cranny before she rinsed me again, this time massaging between my legs with the showerhead to make me squeal.

"My turn." B announced, handing me the showerhead and standing, feet apart, ready for me to return the favour. I happily obliged.

* * * * *

Everybody dressed for lunch, though in B's case, her near sheer outfit hardly counted. I rustled up leftover turkey sandwiches and a bowl of salad by the time B had dragged the rest of the family down the stairs and warmed the rest of the apple pie while we ate.

Helen looked a bit edgy: was she too sore to sit comfortably or had B told her about our pillow talk? I was pretty sure it was the later but I wasn't about to broach the subject here. That was one conversation I wanted us to have alone. I got my chance when the men excused themselves and retired to Parry's den to discuss some aspect of Eric's business that he wanted advice on.

"Leave them, B. We'll do the dishes." I gently stopped B from collecting all the plates.

"Oh. Ok." B's quick on the uptake. "I'll go and keep the guys company then." She squeezed Helen's shoulder as she left us alone in the kitchen.

"Helen, I wanted to talk with you alone because B let some things slip earlier about…"

"She told me." Helen moved chairs to sit beside me and took my hand in both of hers, looking very earnest and a bit forlorn. "Mom, I was going to tell you anyway. I told Daddy earlier."

"How did he take the news his daughter sells herself?"

"The same way he took the news his daughter fucks his wife." Helen retorted, looking hurt. "I'm not walking the streets selling blow-jobs through car windows to support a crack habit and an abusive pimp. I have a very exclusive clientele and a waiting list that can all afford five grand a night and the list is closed because I'm retiring from the game."

"Go on." I remembered B trapping me earlier with the mention of money.

"I've had one final fling with each of my regulars and those on the waiting list will get one night each, then that's it. I set out to earn a million dollars on my back and I've done it. That's enough whoring for me."

"A million? At five thousand a time that's two hundred men." I did the math. "No. B said Eric paid you too so its less than two hundred."

"And 'regulars' means the same men over and over." Helen supplied.

"How many?" I had to know.

"Actually, rather more than two hundred. When I started as an escort, in my second year at college, I was only getting about three hundred a night, after an agency took their commission, but I didn't actually have to fuck the customer for that and they were big tippers if I did like them enough to bed them. I made fifty-five grand that year out of about a hundred guys. One of them turned out to be Eric's dad, which was fun – and the only time I was less than professionally discrete – and helped Eric's rocky relationship with his father no end. Long story."

"Over a hundred in a year?" I was stunned. They were going to have to invent a new word for Helen: 'Promiscuous' didn't do her antics justice.

"Mom, I love sex: Lots of it and lots of different flavours. Those older guys were much more interesting in bed than college boys. College boys are just happy to be getting some but older men are more jaded and consequently kinkier: spanking, food games, golden showers and role-playing. It's all fun. I would have done it all for free, just for kicks, but the money helped. It helps the guys too – a man who's paying for it is much less shy about asking for the kinky stuff."

"You still haven't told me how many." I really wanted to quantify my daughter's… activities, and I wasn't that eager for the details.

"Well the price went up when I went to Washington. I netted over a hundred thousand there from about forty guys, most of it from half a dozen regulars.

Then Eric got rich and decided to make an unusual bequest to his fraternity. He offered B and I two grand a time to fuck as many frat boys as we could during our final year. Mom, I made quarter of a million working my way through those guys and B wasn't far behind. How many is that so far?"

"Two hundred and sixty five."

"There were a few off campus pay-dates that year too. Say thirty at five grand a time – Eric persuaded me to charge that for non-fraternity brothers. Add a few for the boys I had before I went to college and during my freshman year: call it three hundred and twenty up to graduation and I left college with over half a million stashed away.

Since then, there haven't been so many. Some Frat alumni that Eric pays me five grand a time for and some discrete and wealthy businessmen and aficionados of Eric's art work.

By the time I've worked my way through that waiting list I mentioned, I guess I'll have had nearly four hundred men and a couple of dozen women.

Oh, and I'll have a million dollar pussy." Helen stopped. She looked at me, gauging my reaction.

"Well at least you didn't sell yourself cheap. And you've got it out of your system. I suppose there's that to be thankful for." I was remembering B's defence of prostitution.

"Oh, I have sold myself cheap. Eric gets a discount. I only charge him a dollar a night." Helen smirked and I just had to smile at that. "Mom? You don't have to understand or approve. Just tell me we're still ok. You and me."

"I don't understand… or approve, but yes. We're ok." I held out my arms in the timeless invitation to hug. Helen practically fell into my embrace, landing on her knees beside my chair and clinging to me like a frightened child. I resisted the urge to say anything motherly until Helen let go of me and stood up again.

"Did you tell Parry all of that?" I got up to start on those dishes I'd volunteered us to do.

"Daddy was more interested in all the different things men had paid me to do than in how many customers I'd had. I think he was taking notes… for later. Mom? Can I have Daddy all to myself tonight? I want to show him just what a dirty little whore I can be. Pretty please?"

"You're teaching that man bad habits. Ok. Yes. I'll just have to console myself in the arms of Eric and B." A prospect I viewed with more than a little excitement.

"And I'm sure they'll do their best to make you feel you had the best of the bargain. Eric really enjoyed you this morning."

"And did Parry enjoy his treat as much as he expected?"

"Hell Yeah! After he did me, he butt-fucked our Honey B for an encore and since it's something he can't get at home, it's a bargaining chip."

"Bargaining for what?"

"Daddy's my new financial advisor. I have a million dollars to invest and since I haven't declared any of my immoral earnings to the IRS I need Daddy's help to convert a big stack of dead presidents into a proper investment portfolio. I got screwed a lot for that money and I'm damned if I'm gonna lie still while the government screws me some more. I do have some standards."

"And you're paying Parry in kind?"

"Sure. That way he doesn't have to live in hope you'll change your policy. He knows he'll get my ass any time we're in the same State."

"You really are a very bad girl."

"Isn't that the truth?" B picked that moment to arrive. "The men are talking shop so I thought I'd make a pot of coffee… Or do you need a bit more privacy?"

"I think we're done talking." I looked at Helen in case she had more she wanted to get off her chest. I sincerely hoped not. I'd had enough shocks for one weekend.

"We're done." Helen agreed. "Honey B, I've volunteered you and Moby to baby-sit Mom tonight so I can play at being Daddy's little whore. That ok with you?"

"Of course. Meg, I've got some fantastic plastic in my case. We'll make each other come until the guys have to wring the mattress out. Eric can video it for you and, if he's a good boy, maybe I'll let him off the leash for a bit."

"Ooh! Pornstar Mom. I want a copy of that tape." Helen grabbed me from behind, squeezing my breasts and pressing her lips to the nape of my neck. I knew there was no point in trying to refuse. They'd only pester me all afternoon and I'd give in eventually because I really wanted Eric again… and again… and again.

* * * * *

"Goodbye, Darling. We'll see you soon." I hugged Helen while Parry held the Honey B and whispered something in her ear that got a giggle. Eric was loading the last of their bags.

"Bye Mom. It's been the best thanksgiving ever." Helen's arms were tight around me and I was very conscious that our breasts were mashed together because neither of us had bothered with bras. We'd had the newly traditional naked breakfast – more like brunch because we all slept in – and Parry was about to take the kids to the airport.