Tight Whites

I checked the locks on the doors and windows, confirmed that the alarm system was activated and folded out the hide-a-bed. Though the police had been rounding up members of Manuel's posse there were still a few at large. I was staying in Diana's house as security, an arrangement that pleased no one, but the police had finally been forced for financial reasons to remove the officer outside and the captain had suggested I take over.

As sleep refused to come, my mind again roiled over all that had happened, how the endgame had played out. I certainly had enjoyed the chagrin on Detective Jones' pudgy, no-longer-leering face when his captain had stormed into the interrogation room, handed me my Sig, told Jones in no uncertain terms that my interview was over, he should remove the cuffs forthwith, and ordered him to apologize for his major mistake. Immediately.

Once the local cops had inquired about my gun permit, it was flagged to Pickering. He had called the governor, who called the captain, who was now reading the same riot act he'd had to sit through to Jones. Shit runs downhill. As I left, Jones abashedly offered his hand, mumbling something about no hard feelings. Agents and cops who lord their power over others are beneath contempt. When his bereft hand began to quiver in the air, I'd savored the impotent anger and humiliation in his eyes.

After the remainder of his bribe was confiscated, Evan Smoltz had been unable to make bail. Charged with abetting, conspiracy to kidnap his wife and daughter, and public corruption, he was unlikely to ever get out. At least being locked up meant he was safe from members of Manuel's gang. Maybe. The CEO of RealCorp made bond easily. He had no idea about the bribe, of course. Some nefarious underling, who had since skipped town, came up with the idea all on his own. Executives never spend time in jail. Manuel, Mickey and Jose were charged with kidnapping and extortion, and were leapfrogging over each other, trying to cooperate to get reduced charges.

* * *

The slight shift of the bed stirs me from the recurring dream. The one in which Melody is slowly, tantalizingly, lowering herself onto my throbbing erection. When I feel the warmth of the body behind me, spooning up to my back, relief floods over me. Diana must have finally accepted that I had no choice other than to act as I did, that anything else would have gotten everyone killed. The purr is sweet when the hand finds my penis, already erect from Melody's specter's tight, hot vagina. I am about to turn, to embrace Diana, to express my happiness that she has finally come to her senses, when it hits me. The hand stroking my cock is too small.

Janel!

I ruefully shake my head at the absurdity of the situation as I grab her hand and pull it off me. I roll away from her, turning to confront her, to tell her that this had to stop.

Janel -- I had come to realize just how willful she was as I got to know her -- is mightily peeved at not getting her way and hisses, "Come on, John. Fuck me. I want sex. With you. I'm ready. Just stick it in me. Even in front of those awful men it was great. I want to do it again, to learn everything about sex, and I want you to be the one to teach me."

"Quiet, Janel. You might wake up your mother. This just can't happen. It's completely wrong..."

My plea backfires when Janel bursts into tears, wailing loudly. Damn.

The lights flash on a nanosecond before Diana screams, "Damn it, what's going on here? This is unbelievable."

I instinctively spring to my feet. Diana's eyes fixate on my erection, swaying to and fro. As her mouth gapes wider, I turn away from the women and step into my boxers. At least the sight silences her.

But not Janel. "Damn YOU, mother! You're ruining everything. I did this. I came to John's bed. I got his penis hard and I was about to put it in me. I want this. I want to fuck. But he wouldn't do it. Damn you, too, John. Damn you both. I..." Her voice dissolves in a cascade of tears. Wanting to be elsewhere, anywhere, I go about the downstairs, double checking the locks on the doors and windows, as Diana sits on the bed and pulls her daughter into her arms.

"But Janel, honey, it's just not right. You'll find the perfect guy someday. Soon. I know you will."

"I don't want any 'guy.' I want John. He's nice, he's kind, he's here. It's not fair that you get to fuck John, especially since you don't even do it." Wailing resumes. I sit in an armchair, bemused, wondering how this is going to work out, doing my best to stay out of the mother-daughter conflict.

"But Janel, be reasonable..."

"He saved my life, mother! I would be dead if it weren't for him. I want to have sex. I'm going to have sex. I'm ready. Ready NOW! John is wonderful, he's safe. He cares..." Diana pulls her daughter to her feet and holds her to her hard, consoling the inconsolable.

As Janel calms a bit Diana looks at me. Then at her daughter. When her eyes come back to me and I see understanding melt the belligerence, I recall how she previously told me that she is a J on the Myers-Briggs Personality Type Indicator. Like all Jays, once she gets a certain amount of information, her internal conflict is resolved by deciding the issue, making a judgement (thus the J). Decision made, Diana sighs heavily, releasing her anger, doubt and consternation. When she smiles at me and beckons I am elated and walk to her. She pulls me in and kisses me. All is forgiven. Finally.

After ten seconds of the group hug I see that Diana has noticed, and is watching the drama unfold: her daughter's hand reaches out and closes on my still semi-erect penis. I immediately remove it. It comes back. I take it off again, giving it a little slap as I release it. Undeterred, her hand grabs me again, and once more I dislodge it.

Diana tells me later that the scene made her remember that she has always felt the term headstrong describes her daughter to a tee as her fingers yet again close around what she wants. When my hand moves towards Janel's, Diana's intercepts it, holding it fast, then places it on Janel's breast. When I overcome my shock, Diana's wistful eyes, slow shrug, and pensive but accepting smile tell me her decision. Better her daughter learn from me than some pimply, clueless, maybe diseased, teenager.

* * *

Oh my God! Again? The lips on my limp, hypersensitive penis are almost too much. My addled mind has no idea even who it is. When the wet, hot finger pushes into my anus I know it's Janel, remembering well Melody's training. Though it feels very stimulating I am certain that my old dog can't hunt yet again.

As her rapacious tongue licks the special spot where the underside of my shaft meets the head -- Diana had taught her that trick just an hour and a half ago -- I remembered all of what had come before. How I'd suddenly become reserved, ambivalent at having Diana in her bed with us, watching me make love to her daughter. How she had lost patience with me, explained that it was fine with her, and then began giving both Janel and me orders. Directed me to kiss and massage her breasts until Janel was squirming. Then to kiss my way down her body. To perform cunnilingus on Janel just as I had done to Diana. Once Janel had come Diana had me do it again, and stroked her daughter's cheek as she thrashed and moaned. Then, she announced, it was time for fucking.

"No, Janel should be on top. Yes, that's right, honey, grab John's penis, place it, and sit down on it."

Diana just laughed harder when I rebuked her for giggling when Janel had gasped, "It's so big!" Absent Diana's chortles, Janel might have continued thinking that I'm hung like a stallion.

Diana ignored my quip and continued her supervision, "Janel, now you can control how deep he goes. Lean back, now forward. To each side. See how you can determine where his cock pushes on you, inside you? Feel your clitoris. Move so that you can rub it on him. Good. Now go ahead, fuck John, but fuck him the way that feels best for you. That gives you an orgasm."

She did. Twice.

The timbre of Diana's voice was deep, husky, and aroused when she next directed, "Now, on your back, Janel, it's time for you to get fucked." The scenario, to be impaling her daughter at Diana's direction, was so disconcerting, so prurient, that I was able to remain in control. Even through Diana's gasping and thrashing as she came from stroking herself during Janel's orgasm. I managed to hold back, to keep from coming until Janel's next.

But then the rhythmic squeezes of her tight vagina tipped me over the edge. The boiling semen seared every nerve as it exploded up my pole, and I'm certain I have never ejaculated so many times. Even after my mechanism had finished, had seized up from overuse, Janel squeezed me with her vaginal muscles and Diana's hand cupped my balls insistently, forcing more contractions. Together they drained me completely.

I lay on my back as my panting subsided, holding close the women, one on each side. Janel drifted off quickly and I would have, too, but for Diana's hand. On my penis. Her arousal from watching and directing us was still smoldering even after her masturbation, and what started affectionately quickly became insistent. When her lips surrounded my penis, sucking, sliding, and cajoling, I knew that I wasn't going to sleep.

Needing time to recover I did to Diana exactly she had directed me to do to Janel. The pheromones in Diana's copious, savory juices began my rejuvenation, and her first orgasm finished the job. The climaxes that followed after she had mounted me seemed increasingly intense and my having been drained so completely kept me hard and able, yet far from the edge. At least until Diana stopped moving on me, exhausted, satisfied. She was finished.

I wasn't. I rolled her on her back and plunged in. I pulled the ass I so loved hard to me so the special spot on my cock rubbed hard in trough of her vagina. And evidently on her clit. Janel, awakened by the noise, the musky scent of sex that lay heavy in the air, and the rocking of the bed, watched us closely, fascinated, and stroked her mother's hair, soothing her, as she thrashed, arched, moaned and cried out as she finally felt my penis ejaculate inside her.

I had plummeted into a deep, comatose slumber, the women, my women, on either side. Until the lips pulled me back. Even when Janel had added the fingering, I had felt certain that my penis could not rise again. But wonder of wonders, the old dog tried to learn a new trick, picking up the scent and going on the prowl.

When, despite all her daughter's good work my tumescence remained incomplete, Diana gave another lesson. Pushing me onto my back she directed, "Get on top, grab hold of it, right at the base. Good, now squeeze. It forces more blood into the shaft, makes him harder. Now guide it into you." When Janel moaned and I sighed, Diana murmured, "Good girl." Though I couldn't come again, Janel's tight, wet vagina, like a new silk glove, felt wonderful and I had stayed sufficiently hard that Janel could use me to her heart's content.

* * *

I moaned quietly, tried to suppress my twitches, and stroked Janel's hair as her head bobbed up and down. She was now very skilled, both at fellatio and testicular stimulation. Reveling in her newly discovered power to read my reactions, she stopped pleasuring me and slid up my body, spreading her legs and planting her pussy right on my mouth.

Janel's sighs and moans signified how she gloried in having my tongue inside her, delighted in controlling exactly where and how firmly my licks pressed on her clitoris. She was simply thrilled with herself, delighted at being an eighteen-year-old sex machine. And while I had limits as a fucking partner, she loved that my tongue was always able. Her mother's permission, her guidance, and all that had happened in the movie studio, had liberated her.

There seemed next to nothing that she didn't want to try. Though Diana had demurred when Janel had suggested that they invite Melody to join us, the gleam in her eyes told me she hadn't given up on the idea. Janel had confided to me how vividly she remembered the velvety feel of Melody's tongue, and, though she loved my attempts, Janel knew that cunnilingus from a woman, someone who knew exactly what felt best, was something she wanted again. I concurred with Diana's decision. Once Janel moved on, found someone her own age, Diana and I would be exclusive.

After Janel's third orgasm she slid down and licked her slick off my lips, chin, cheeks, and nose. She giggled and grinned as she tasted herself. As she often bragged, she could produce much more juice than her mom. Her talented fingers stroked my cock's special spot as she licked and kissed me, but stopped once my winces and moans indicated that I was close. "Later, John," she whispered, her voice evincing both her smug satisfaction at controlling me and her deep affection. She kissed me, giving my erection one last long stroke and snickering at my moan as my cock lurched up against her fingers, then went to do her homework.

Though she knew that I loved Diana -- we were planning a June wedding -- Janel knew that I loved her also, and she was proud that she could make me come even harder than her mother could. I'd joked that she didn't need to practice Kegel exercises because she'd mastered them. It was true. That first night, when Diana had coached Janel, when I'd finally come Diana had held my balls. As she felt each contraction she directed Janel, "Squeeze, squeeze, again, again..." mirroring her light compressions of my testicles. The women kept up the rhythm of my ejaculations well after I'd quit, their squeezes and strokes making my cock distend and throb, even when there was no more cum to be ejected.

Together they'd drained me, totally, and since then Janel had learned to feel my cock swell and throb with each eruption. She'd match my rhythm and grip my cock with her vagina, over and over, then continue my cadence long after I was done, wringing every last drop of semen out of me. Also like that first time, I often had to beg her to stop. It just became more than my hypersensitive penis could bear. Of course even after my entreaties she'd always give me a few extra squeezes for good measure, enjoying my desperate, agonized groans and twitches. And reveling in her power to elicit them. She joked that she liked turning my balls inside out. Janel had told me that she was eager to try her technique on her new boyfriend, Jack, once he got smart enough to figure out that she'd let him fuck her.

Diana and I walk the beach trail every morning. In the narrow spots where only single file is possible, when our hands part and I fall behind, she always lets her hips sway just a bit more, pulling the whites tight on first one buttock then the other. I'm sure the people we meet are as intrigued by her sly smile as by her suppressed giggles.