Talent
by Mr. House and Her Son, the Amazing Dog Trumpet
© 1999 FacistsInHeaven
Chapter the Twenty-ninth. Arousal.
Life outside of the ethereal had still been proceeding. Jon and Suzanne both told me about the mundanities of office life. Amy had been wrestling with her exams and the farm was still a working necessity for Aiden. Chrissie’s hospital had been told that she was recuperating from a serious accident at her family’s place in Ireland (a small amount of my ‘work’ ensured that she was not disturbed and all the necessary legalities had been met.)
My old life too, was still going on, albeit without me. My skills with ‘influencing people’ had ensured that I had been quietly accumulating assets for quite some time. The real world went on.
Chrissie, Cathy and I returned to the house after a day out at the local park, walking the riverside.
On the mat inside the front door was a pretty large pile of mail. Most of it was junk; pizza offers, a couple of samples of wash powder and several bills. Of the others, there was a postcard from Jon, (sent before we had met at the farmhouse) from some sunny beach he and Suzanne had gone to for the long weekend; a really long letter from my accountant detailing my ‘increasing balance’ and then one intriguing offer to stand on the board of directors at one of the upper-class schools in the city. Due to my newly improved status in the consultancy circles and my company fortunes being high enough to invite requests for philanthropy, a meeting was arranged for Wednesday, two days hence, to introduce me to the principal and give me a chance to see the ‘wonderfully vibrant environment’ in which the sons and daughters of the moneyed few learned their manners. Something about the note, the paper or the typing or... something, intrigued me. I sniffed it carefully. The essence of something of Shaw was there; but not exactly by Shaw himself, more like from another person whom Shaw had touched. I needed to investigate. At Cathy’s advice, I phoned and let them know I would be pleased to attend.
The frontage of Mountpleasant College was impressive in that ‘old money makes ugly architecture more beautiful’ kind of way. It was hidden up a long cedar-lined avenue beyond open playing fields and a walled boundary.
I was shown into the headmaster’s office and shown a level of sycophancy of which I had previously been blissfully unaware. His person, I checked, was nothing to do with Shaw. Any thing he was doing was not a trap in that sense. My financial ‘stability,’ he explained, would enable them to continue the wonderful work that was their duty to give the cream of society. He told me how the invitation to me was only made after a ‘serendipitous’ discovery of a report detailing my ranking in the local business circles. He was sure I would be a most wonderfully benevolent benefactor of the school. They were so glad they had taken the unusual step of ‘cold calling’ a person of my stature. I found myself almost ready to heave the shortbread biscuits and tea with which I was being plied and tell the vulture to fuck off when me eye was caught by the latest photograph of the school’s pupils displayed on the side wall of the main corridor. I approached it with interest and found my eye drawn to a familiar face. He gleefully explained all about the traditional photograph of the school’s alumni and how they had annual pictures that stretched back from this latest one, to the inception of photography.
Angela Shaw stood in the second row, third in from the left. The pretty grade nine student in the school colours. She was little taller than a lot of the other fourteen year olds in her class but more beautiful than them all. Her beaming smile although forced for the camera, was bright enough to put the rest of her form in the shade.
Her eyes though, held mine in a grip. I felt the old feeling that there was more information in the picture than anyone else could see. I knew she was there telling me something. I had to be there too. The feeling of ineffable sadness that stared out from them made me gasp and drop my gaze. We hurried along through the tour, my mind turning over the idea that Angela might need my help and moreover, be able to help me.
I think the weasel behind the headmaster’s desk was more amazed that he had succeeded to get me to give them money than anything else. I told him how impressed I was with the school and how flattered I was and how I would certainly be a patron of the board. He fell over himself to congratulate me on the wonderful choice I had made. He hoped I would be able to enjoy my involvement with Mountpleasant.
He didn’t realise just how much I would become involved in the place.
Driving home alone in the car, I set my mind to figuring how I could safely deal with one of Shaw’s own children. There could indeed be some pretty nasty consequences if I was to leave myself open to an attack from a spawn of his.
But her eyes, they didn’t give me the impression of dangerous threat. I fancied I saw something more pleading there. I couldn’t decide what it was in reality. I would have to make myself ready for anything, if that wasn’t too tall an order.
The next meeting of the school board was at the ‘Summer Showcase’ where the students put on a show for the dignitaries. It would be a good time to meet the others on the board. I noted with some interest that Peter Shaw was not in the group. I was sure he was not the sort of soul who would be open to giving his time to something as mundane as a school.
It was quite the decision to make, which partner I should take with me to the gala evening. Surprisingly, it was Chrissie who decided I should take Cathy to the show. Cathy was beautifully turned out in an elegantly cut dress and my dinner suit made us look like we were royalty.
I felt quite a charge when Cathy emerged from Chrissie’s room having had Chrissie help her get dressed. Cathy was now completely at ease with her new beliefs. She thoroughly revelled in the emotional high of her sexual response. And Chrissie certainly helped her along.
Cathy, it seemed, had exactly the same taste in women as I did. One evening, soon after moving back to the house and during a dinner together she leaned close to me as Chrissie went into the kitchen for the water jug and whispered that she couldn’t believe how gorgeous Chrissie was. I told her that Chrissie was of a similar opinion of herself. Cathy blushed a little and spent the rest of the meal in a state of some arousal. I didn’t let on to Chrissie despite her quizzical looks my way whenever something was said that Cathy took to be innuendo and sighed.
Cathy now, stood at the bottom of the stairs, a couple of steps down from Chrissie and presented a marvellous image of sophisticated elegance. Her hair was up in a carefully twisted weave and the figure-hugging black dress was set off by an exquisitely simple string of pearls that fell across the bare expanse of her neck and accentuated the beauty of her firm cleavage.
I bowed formally and clicked my heels, saying “My lady.” She took my proffered hand and I kissed her fingers.
“My lord.” she replied demurely curtsying slightly and I caught the impression that she meant more than the usual civilities.
“Isn’t she a picture?” asked Chrissie, making last minute adjustments to a couple of errant wisps of hair at Cathy’s neck.
“A vision!” I responded, as indeed she was. Cathy shifted her weight from one foot to the other, her silk stockings rasping softly past each other.
“We look too damn gorgeous! I can’t get over how horny I feel, all dressed up to impress like this!”
She had never been one to dress in anything she felt might detract from her feminist beliefs that women were not to be displayed. The closest she had to a ‘special’ outfit she ever wore in public was the grey silk suit she occasionally wore to office meetings. Apart from that it was as non gender specific as she could make it.
Now though, she oozed with sexual confidence in her womanhood. The power she had to arouse me was pretty soon evident as my cock began to stiffen and tent the front of my trousers.
“Looks like you aren’t the only one who’s getting worked up Cath!” laughed Chrissie as she glanced at my obvious bump.
“Hey,” I responded, “it’s not my fault if I find you all so sexy. You have control over me too you know!”
Cathy stepped down to my level and looked my in the eyes. “Do you know, I have just spent bloody ages getting my damned makeup just right?” she asked accusingly.
I frowned, “So?”
“So, It’s going to be another age getting it back on after I mess it up blowing that fucking wad you’ve got in those balls for me.” The sheer fact that my Cathy was now able to contemplate such a fabulously nasty turn of phrase brought my pecker up to full height.
Chrissie grinned at me and placed her hands on Cathy’s shoulders, “If we want to get you two to this gala on time I think I’ll have to give you a hand.”
With a little pressure on her shoulders, Chrissie urged Cathy to bend at the waist in front of me. She snaked a hand back and lower to slip up and under the hem of Cathy’s dress. Cathy’s eyes fluttered as Chrissie obviously worked her fingers into her panties from behind.
“Hmmm, she’s a little wet thing down here” Chrissie smiled at me. Lifting her fingers out to my mouth she asked me to taste them. Cathy was busily unzipping my fly and pushing my trousers and boxer shorts to my ankles. Her eyes sparkled as she looked up to watch my tongue clean the sweet honey from my other lover’s knuckles.
Cathy had never, ever, ever; been a cock sucker. My requests that she might try an occasional blow job were always rebuffed so vehemently that I eventually gave up. Now, she was so into it that I believe she was the best I have ever experienced. Not content to use just her mouth, Cathy’s technique used her entire face to stimulate my rampant penis. The deep red lipstick she had applied so carefully to her full lips, was soon smeared across her cheeks and my cock. Her saliva soaked into my pubes and her face soon glistened with a thin sheen of moisture.
Chrissie had returned to stimulating her from behind. I could see that her forearm was working as she wriggled her long fingers along my wife’s slit.
“I’ve got my whole thumb inside you haven’t I Cathy?” Chrissie asked intently.
“Hmm, hmm,” she replied, her mouth still full as she nodded on me.
“Where is my thumb inside you Cathy?” Chrissie asked as she leaned forward to wink at me and lick the end of my nose.
Cathy closed her eyes with the stimulation that Chrissie was giving her and dropped my rod from her lips.
“In my ass, you’re filling my ass with your thumb sweetie.”
“She likes having my thumb in her little bum, doesn’t she?” Chrissie nipped at Cathy’s ear and twisted her hand around at her rear.
“Oooh, God Chris, yes!” Cathy exclaimed and regained hold of my manhood with her gasping mouth sucking me to the back of her tongue, licking and bumping the entire length.
Chrissie continued, her voice holding a mock viciousness as she enquired of Cathy what she was doing in her most private places.
“Are my long fingers filling you up baby? are they rubbing your tight little pussy nicely? is your sweet pearl getting a buzz on my hand Cathy?”
Cathy groaned.
I reached forward with both hands and took hold of Chrissie’s face, pulling her to me for a deep French kiss. Nibbling gently on Chrissie’s muscular and active tongue, I put forward a couple of probes to fill her ass and pussy at the same time. She growled into my mouth and trembled with the stimulus.
Cathy almost had her forehead against my belly as she attempted to get my entire stalk into her face. The suction began to pull up the juice from my reservoir and I increased my work on Chrissie’s cunt. From the way that Cathy was forcing her hips back and forth, I knew that we were heading towards three orgasms and it was going to be me first. The hot breath from Cathy’s nostrils as she forced the air from her lungs tingled around my balls and the back of her mouth massaged the head of my cock.
Cathy felt the warm salty ropes of my thundering ejaculation hit the roof of her mouth just after she almost pulled me clear of her teeth. I pumped a couple more onto her waiting tongue for good measure and let the sensation wash over me of her face rubbing my sensitive cock back and forth across her pouting lips and wet cheeks.
Chrissie came next, mainly because my own libido was transferred to the phantom plug that was filling her channel. She snorted and trembled, buckling over to rest her face on Cathy’s back licking the salt from her exposed shoulders.
A renewed assault of Chrissie’s fingers on Cathy’s nether regions had her come so loud the windows shook. Chris took a few minutes of passionately kissing the semen out of Cathy’s mouth before they calmed down enough to start getting themselves back to normal.
I speeded up the process somewhat and had her face clean and makeup reapplied in a couple of seconds. Both girls looked fabulous, their perfectly respectable appearance offset slightly by the ‘just fucked’ look of their twinkling eyes.
“Oh goodness! that was intense!” gasped Chrissie, hugging herself. “I’m going to go have a bath and see if I can get this ache in my puss taken care of!”
I kissed her deeply, telling her to save some for me and opened the door to go. Cathy gave her a loving peck on the lips and she wished us both well, urging me to be careful. Cathy walked ahead of me down the path to the car. Both Chrissie and I admired the swaying curves of her ass as she sashayed away.