WMD Ch. 05

byFinalStand©

(WMD = Winter Men's Dilemma; My own irreverent spin on the BBC mythology)

*Editing magic performed by KJ24 and Shyqash, plus contributions by the regular gang of brigands and neer-do-wells*

*This story is NOT TO BE TAKEN SERIOUSLY!*

Vlad: "You actually expect me to believe my Father, Brothers and I have the genetic capability to addict every woman we have sex with to our schlongs? That's nuts!"

Mom: "As opposed to thinking the color, length and girth of a phallus makes any woman lose all sense of loyalty, morality and decorum so she can become a man's sex sleeve – whore – bitch – property? Yes, I do."
*

*Lastly, this story is rather flippant about the entire concept of sexual assault. Those who have read my previous tales know this is not my attitude at all. For the sake of this genre I had to grapple with the concept of forcing a woman and 'making them love that dick'*

(THE FAMILY: Father – Nikolay 'Nik' Samsonov; Mother – Gayle Fonteneau Samsonov; the Triplets – Alexander 'Alex', Mikhail and Vladimir 'Vlad' [the POV character] – currently, Vlad is dating Brandy Crystal Carson {the Sheriff's daughter} and Mikhail is dating Taliyah Malik {the Madam Mayor's daughter} while Alexander remains somewhat unattached.)

*Ladies, how come a bikini pic has become an Instagram 'must', while seeing the same woman alone in her bra and panties remains a scandal?*

[SATURDAY – THE FLASHPOINT]

I wasn't able to make it to the Carson household Friday night, though I did learn about the reason Mikhail did: Thursday night the Malik family had begun to implode. Mamma Malik had gone to a separate bedroom ... and locked the door. Papa Malik hadn't taken that well, deciding to bury himself in alcohol as an appropriate response. That had been Taliyah's Friday morning. A series of late-afternoon blistering communication exchanges with her parents hadn't helped much.

I resolved to make it up to Brandy by going over early ~as in 7:00 a.m. on a Saturday morning – early ~ and waking her with kisses. She'd told me the passkey for the home's security system (and 'yes', it had been changed after she dumped Darius for me – just in case).

I got there ... and the Living Room looked like it needed more than a little cleaning. Pizza boxes and soda cans were strewn about the place. Apparently, Brandy and company hadn't gone straight to bed last night..

From what I'd already been told, she had Taliyah (Malik), Noémie Lucie Desdunes, Amber Lee Huffington, Alondra Lamb, Misty Dawn Sizemore and Betty Jo Sterling already here. The other five members of the Cheer Squad would be arriving later this morning and all were planning on spending tonight (Saturday night).

Noémie Lucie, Amber Lee and Misty Dawn were strong supporters of the Brandy and Taliyah co-captaincy of the Cheer Squad, so that explained their presence. Alondra and Betty Jo were here out of worry the members of the Football Team might try to 'kidnap' them, once they were off school grounds: so safety measures had been taken.

With Robert 'Big Bob' Carson, the County Sheriff, away for the weekend at a Law Enforcement convention in Miami, Florida, he had wisely deposited at least one Samsonov guarding his northwestern Arkansas home last night. Surprisingly, Mikhail had sensed Taliyah's soul-hurt about the situation and wanted to be there for her. He'd put his burgeoning playboy tendencies aside when she really need him. His transformation last night had surprised both me and, to some degree, my Mom, Gayle Fonteneau Samsonov.

No one was awake in the house yet. From the rich aroma wafting from the Kitchen, I could tell the automatic coffeemaker had already prepared a full pot and was keeping it warm. I dropped my book bag ~ sans books, but with a change of clothes, two swimsuits and a few other 'gifts from Mom' ~ by the sofa first, then began transferring plates and glasses from the Living Room to the dishwasher in the Kitchen. I thought I heard someone out on the front porch.

No one knocked, so I finished the trip to the kitchen. I was on the way back when I was pretty sure I heard someone trying to get in ~ with no luck. You had to be a pretty stupid thief to try and break into the County's chief Law Dog's domicile, even if he was currently out of town. Then there were the four cars and two electric-blue with yellow lightning bolts KTM 690 Enduro R's motorbikes (mine and Mikhail's) in the driveway and front lawn for Pete's sake. It wasn't like the house looked deserted.

Someone rang the doorbell. I wasn't sure how to take that. A quick double-check revealed the door had a spy hole and there was a security screen further into the room. I made use of the spy hole since it was closer. The object on the other side was the best disguised house burglar I'd ever seen, or heard about. I opened up the door, a sappy smile plastered to my slightly flushed face. At the last second I thought to shove my hard-on to the side in a doomed attempt to make it less obvious.

"Hello, how may I help you?" I greeted the gorgeous, mature, platinum-blonde feminine bombshell standing before me.

"Do the Carson's still live here?" she appeared distressed.

"Oh, yes Ma'am," I bobbled my head. "Hi. I'm Vladimir Samsonov. The owner is out right now and I'm here for a party being thrown by his daughter, my girlfriend, Brandy."

Her face transformed from confusion and worry to secret amusement.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Vladimir," she put forth her hand. I gladly took this elegant, graciously offered extension of her luscious form. I ended up kissing her knuckles instead of shaking it as I understood that was the Southern Gentlemanly thing to do to a lady. Her eyes twinkled as she added, "I'm Jodi May Memphis Carson ... Brandy's my daughter."

My heart caught in my throat. From what little I knew, a few months back, Brandy's Mom had run off with the previous Senior Deputy ~ Big Bob's #2 Man ~ a Black 'gentleman' ~ and Big Bob was still pissed about it. I'd never broached the subject with Brandy.

So, how upset was Big Bob? Well, I hadn't recognized his gorgeous wife because Big Bob had taken all pictures of her down around the place and Brandy never talked about her. That was a pity because she was an absolute beauty. Her name and history would definitely explain the luggage she had with her too.

No car was in evidence which suggested she'd arrived via hitchhiking, or taxi. There was no one outside expecting money, or checking to see if she was okay ...

"Please," I stepped aside. "Come on in. Don't worry about your luggage. I'll get it."

"Thank you," she stepped inside. "That is very gentlemanly of you." Points for me!

With two over-stuffed dress bags, two large suitcases and a roll-on, I definitely felt overburdened, and I was certainly getting my weight training in for this morning, but following Mrs. Carson into the house made all but one of my physical aches go away. I was certain she was talking to me.

What she actually said ... I had no idea. She had on this contour-hugging, pale lavender skirt and a white, nearly-transparent imitation Peasant blouse with a black mesh bra underneath. This was above unadorned, creamy-tanned calves and white, open-toed heels (4 inches maybe?). Her finger- and toe-nails were a dazzling, pale pink to accent the ensemble.

With the way her hips rolled when she walked, each step made her firm butt bounce just a tad which also just happened to accentuate the luscious lines of those exquisite calves and thighs (what I could see of them). Her hair boiled down to her mid-back like a wild torrent of molten gold. I swear to God, I had this unnatural impulse to push her over the back of the sofa and fuck the ever-living soul out of her.

"Vladimir? Vlad?" Jodi May addressed me. Apparently she'd been asking me one, or more, questions while I had been daydreaming. She'd stopped and twisted at the hip so she could look at me. Her salacious twist of the lips and carnivorous eyes told me she knew exactly why I hadn't answered her and where my mind had wandered off to.

"I ... I apologize, Mrs. Carson."

"Call me Jodi May," she purred.

"Wha-ha – Yes Ma'am!" I nodded vigorously.

"I was asking I thought Brandy was dating Darius Pope. What happened to him?"

Ice flushed thru my veins and my brain re-engaged. She'd known about Brandy and Darius ~ to some degree anyway ... and she'd run off with a Big Black Cock-Monster herself. As a mature woman, she was a 10+, but as a Mother – in my book – she wasn't rating so high all of a sudden.

"So you were aware Darius Pope treated your daughter like a cum dumpster?" my countenance hardened. "She was handed about the team for all of them to use?"

I could see it in her eyes ~ the comprehension ~ the denial ~ the creation of some fantasy which allowed her to carry on with the illusion she'd done no wrong.

"All White men think that way," she settled on an imperious frown. "Darius loves my daughter."

"And he's got the copious amount of humiliating footage to prove me right too," I glared. "Or would have had if my family not intervened. Now Brandy has someone who truly loves her and wants to protect her from predators who would treat her as nothing more than three nameless orifices, a smoking hot body and a pretty face."

"As it currently stands, it turns out Darius pissed off one too many folks and somebody decided to beat the ever-living crap out of him and six of his boys ~ all at the same time. Darius ended up crippled – maybe for life. He is currently hospitalized – undergoing reconstructive surgery on both his knees ... in Little Rock. That doesn't matter because by the time Darius got his, I'd already convinced Brandy she was better off with me and she's stuck with me ever since," I concluded.

"Poor Darius," Memphis grew all concerned, nostalgic and misty-eyed. Yep, Darius had fucked Brandy's Mom as well. A quick information rewind had me recalling this convention of Big Bob's was a 'yearly thing', making the return of his runaway wife to his stoop rather conveniently timed.

"Where do I put your bags?"

That brought her back to the here-and-now and looking at me – not through me.

"I imagine the Master Suite might be a tad inappropriate," I stated factually.

"Young man," she studied me, "this is still my house and I'll hang my clothes were I wish."

"Absolutely, Mrs. Carson," I nodded. "It is just placing them in the Master Bedroom comes with a complementary call to your husband ~ in Miami ~ while doing so in the Guest Room – the one at the other end of the house (because this house had THREE) – comes with some forbearance. By all means ~ decide away. After all ... it is your house."

"How do you think Brandy will feel about you threating her Mamma this way?" she pouted remarkably like her daughter.

"She won't give a damn," I gave back nothing.

"My daughter and I had a better understanding of ... things," she turned all hurt and aggrieved. 'Things' like Mamma's infidelity and running off with a Black stud ... because Brandy was lying to her father about getting some of her own at school.

"Things a White boy wouldn't understand," she dug in her claws.

"Possibly," I shrugged. Her shit was getting heavy. "I'd appreciate it if you would make your decision now. I was planning on cleaning up down here before waking Brandy with a few 'good morning' kisses. I can top that off with the knowledge you are here as well."

"Put my things in the ... far ... Guest Room," she motioned in the proper direction with a head toss. "I'll wake my daughter. I'm sure she has missed me."

"Good choice," I nodded. "Here is a piece of unsolicited advice. Your family hasn't picked up an automotive fetish in your absence... your daughter has friends over for the weekend, so making a commotion might by ... unfortunate."

My information perplexed her.

"She is probably alone," Mamma Carson hazarded.

"Unlikely. Taliyah was pretty upset last night so I'm willing to bet they crashed out with my brother ... in the Master Suite while the five others are in the Game Room making use of the three sofas, sleeping bags and bear skin rug," I hypothesized right back.

"Brother?" she worked out from all that information.

"Please come along with me while I explain," and off I went. Reluctantly, the delinquent Mamma followed. Mind you, the far Guest Room was hardly a hardship being 12'x18' with a queen-sized canopy bed, walk-in closet and 72" wall-mounted TV. The counter-top space was minimal and the bathroom was down the hall, but since this wasn't the sleep-occupancy part of the dwelling, it was pretty much hers alone.

"As I said 'I'm Vladimir Samsonov'. My Mom and Dad are Gayle and Nicolay Samsonov. He is the new Senior Deputy and has over two decades of experience with the Alaska Highway Patrol and a legacy of law enforcement going back hundreds of years."

"Of greater importance to you, no doubt, is that my Mom is Gayle FONTENEAU Samsonov, heir to the Fonteneau fortune and estate ... which is what brought us to town ~ my Great-Aunt Matilda's death and her Willing us the whole deal," I gave Jodi May Memphis the 4-1-1.

"Oh," she pursed her lips. "How is the 'town' handling this?"

"What?"

"The return of Gayle Fonteneau?" she inquired. She was in the closet, hanging up what she needed to while I was in the room, ass resting on the bed.

"Why do you think they would be upset?"

"Let's just say Gayle and her crazy brother didn't leave Kingston on the best of terms," she evaded.

"I already know about my Mom's rape and the town's denial. I know my Uncle Theo went into Kingston, found four of those bastards and beat them so badly none ever fully recovered. I know the Mayor and Great-Aunt Matilda struck a bargain so that Uncle Theo stayed out of jail. I know the Mayor has passed-on, as has my Great-Aunt. I know my Mother hasn't forgotten, or forgiven, a damn thing."

"I'm sure Mayor Fox and Chief Quinterre are less than impressed," she smiled at me. She knew the score. This was BBC Country.

"Chief Quinterre is no longer Chief. He lost his job last Thursday night ... for molesting my Mom, having one of his buddies molest your daughter, and being caught at it by an Arkansas State Investigator. My Mom is supporting Mayor Fox's bid for the State Senate seat while Chinedu Malik is in the dog house for his philandering ways."

"That's ... something," she muttered.

"Oh, and the previous High School Principal is no more. He attempted to put his hands on my Mother, so she put him in Intensive Care ... including ripping his dick off," I kept chatting. By the flashing of Memphis' big baby blues ... that was another BBC she'd be missing. Sadly, I was no longer surprised.

"The new guy ... well, you'd have to meet him to believe him. He's a treat."

"How so?"

"How to describe him ... He's a college-marinated, proudly bi-sexual, agnostic, married-to-a-freaking-Goddess, beefy, Black Canadian-Haitian-American Fruit Loop."

"Huh?"

"I stand by my assessment," I grinned. "Let me go get Brandy," I headed for the door.

"Vladimir – Vlad, aaahhh ... is Brandy ... okay?" Jodi May worried.

"I do my utmost to make her happy ... and I ... well, I'll let you talk with her and decide for yourself," and then I left.

I worried about what I was going to say when I found Brandy. As I had surmised, she was upstairs, in the Master Suite, on her Daddy's bed, wrapped up with Mikhail and Taliyah. She was on the far side of the bed, closer to the large French doors which led on to the small upper deck. Mikhail's head rose minutely when I pushed the door open enough for me to enter.

He was bare-chested, Taliyah had on his t-shirt from yesterday and Brandy had on a baby-blue, spaghetti-strap, midriff-revealing top on, though she had her comforter pulled up to her chest. I knew that top well enough. I flashed Mikhail some American Sign Language to explain the latest bizarre twist Arkansas had thrown us Alaskans.

His advice?

M: 'Stick it in the Bitch – keep her in line.'

V: 'She's her mother, dude!'

M: 'Exactly.'

V: 'No.'

M: 'Then I'll do it.'

V: 'No. That will upset Brandy.'

M: 'That is why you should do it; to keep her Mom at home.'

V: 'That should go over abysmally.'

M: 'How hot is she?'

V: 'M-E-G-A.'

M: 'Sweet!'

V: 'Pig.'

M: 'TCB.' {Taking care of business ~ Elvis Presley}

I went around the bed to Brandy. To my brother ...

V: 'Up late?'

M: 'Three in the morning.'

V: 'You have sex with my girl?'

M: 'You have to sign?' (aka 'ask').

'Okay,' I signed as I sighed. Since she was on her side, facing Mikhail, I placed my first gentle kiss within her ear. She smiled, still asleep, so I kissed her again. This time she twisted both her head and shoulders so that she was facing up. Feather-light devotions fell upon her eyelids, the tip of her nose and lips – top then full bottom. Brandy moaned sensually. Three tantalizing lip contacts later, and her mouth opened.

I kissed her on the mouth with my tongue darting along her teeth.

"Ooooohhhh ... mmmm ..." she respired deeply as she transitioned from dream to wakefulness.

"Vlad," she murmured. "Vlad ... Vlad ..." and then her eyes opened. "Oh ... I dreamed it was you," she gifted me with a sleepy smile.

Then Brandy started to stretch, yawn, with her arms arching over her head, bumping Mikhail along the way then continuing on until her finger linked over her head, palms reversed and one final hip-wiggle beneath the comforter. Only after she wrapped me up in the famished French kiss, hands entwined in the hair on the back of my head, did she remember we weren't alone.

"Oh ... Vlad," she whispered. She sent an apprehensive look Mikhail's look. His was one of undisguised lust which caused Brandy a moment of panic.

"Hey, Princess," I blew softly on her cheek. She turned to face me once more. "I know. It is okay. Since I plan to spend the rest of my life with my brothers, it stands to reason I want you to be comfortable around one another."

"Are you ..."

"Yes ... yes ... that means plenty of thee- and four-ways you will just have to put up with," I teased her. Brandy liked going air-tight. She had confused being the centerpiece of sexual orgies with love far too often. I was determined to show her the difference

"You are still My Lady," I affirmed, "~ the only one I want to be with. I'm happy enough to share with my brothers if that makes you happy. That doesn't change how I feel about you and us. I'm not jealous of them and they aren't jealous of us. Right Mikhail?" I looked to my triplet.

"Yeah," he poked her ribs underneath the sheets. "Never feel you have to say 'yes', Brandy," he teased. "Never feel like you have to say 'no' either."

Brandy looked up at me to be absolutely sure the way she wanted things to be (we three Samsonov's lusting after her and willing to share her body without recriminations) was the way it really was. Some playful tickling, nose-licks and generally not taking advantage of her was the best way to go and the way I went.

"Damn," Taliyah muttered. "You had better not woken up ... oh, hey Vlad."

"Hey, Taliyah," I greeted the bleary-eyed, henna-brown Cheerleader. Her black hair was mussed by physical activity and a half-night's sleep. As she propped herself up on her elbows, the covers retreated and her braless status was confirmed.

"What time is it?" Taliyah looked around. The clock was next to her, but this wasn't her bedroom so I could understand her disorientation.

"A little past seven. Why don't you two crash out? I've got a surprise for Brandy," I suggested.

"Come on now," Mikhail snorted.

"If you are going to have sex ... count me in," Taliyah hedged.

"Mmmm ... okay," Brandy snickered.

"Not this time," I winked to Brandy. "I've got a special treat for my Princess."

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