a Short Story by Kellis
“At your age,” said Shep, “you’ve been around a lot. What do you think of whores?”
Kyle’s eyebrows rose. “You mean individually or generally? Generally they save the world — or used to.”
“The world of horny young men, at least. So-called ‘good women’ have always been slow to open their legs.”
“Or their mouths!” said Shep in fervent agreement.
“Only slow for cocks,” agreed Kyle with a chuckle. “Whereas an eager whore will fish out your cock for you, if you let her, even before you strike a deal.”
Shep sighed. “Yeah. I remember that.”
“As an institution, whoredom has historically saved the lives of a lot of women when times got hard.”
“From what? Not in this country.”
“In Europe after World War Two. My uncles couldn’t stop talking about the submissive women. And my own experience in Korea: girls standing on the roadsides. Even in this country after the civil war — and not just in the south. Whenever times are hard.”
“If you say so. I take it you approve of whores.”
Kyle nodded. “As long as they’re willing, and lots of them always are. I could never understand why people want to outlaw them.”
“You can’t? Even I know the answer to that. It’s your so-called ‘good women.’”
“Are you sure?”
“Whores weren’t illegal in most places until we gave women the vote.”
Kyle thought it over. “Well, that’s reasonable. Good women wouldn’t tolerate the cheaper competition.”
“Right.” Shep chuckled. “Not many guys ever notice how much more expensive good women are.”
“It isn’t just cost. Hot to trot whores blunt a woman’s best weapon.”
“If you mean denial of sex, I’d use a stronger word than ‘blunt.’”
“‘Ruin?’” But Kyle shook his head. “Actually of course it doesn’t work, as Lysistrata figured out.”
Kyle chuckled. “An ancient Greek heroine. Athenian women tried to stop a war by depriving their men of pussy.”
“Did it work?”
“For jokes, like, ‘What’s that under your tunic, a spear?’”
Shep smiled. “Sounds like the women missed it too.”
“Exactly. Say, what made you think of whores?”
“End of the line on a train of thought. See the woman sitting alone at that table near the bar? She’s a fox, as the kids say, and she’s been nursing the same drink since we came in here. I started wondering if she’s waiting for a proposition and my imagination ran away.”
“Maybe she is.” Kyle cocked an eyebrow. “Why don’t you go ask her?”
Shep chuckled defensively. “At my age I’m afraid she’d say, ‘Yes.’”
Kyle chuckled. “I know what you mean.” He studied the woman, who met his gaze frankly before looking away. She was neatly made up with curly brown hair, wearing blouse, skirt and pumps. Diamond studs flashed in her ears but the hand with fortyish wrinkles holding her glass was ringless.
He said, “Not that this one looks the same, but my god she reminds me of Linda! That’s how I’d find Linda, sitting alone at a table, when I came in to the Green Bottle. Linda was a little younger, but this is remarkable.”
“Who was Linda? Did I know her?”
“Nah. This was thirty years ago when I was a troubleshooter for Enwright Aviation. What a great gal Linda was! Willing and articulate. I’ll never forget her. If that one has anything like Linda’s personality, she’ll be great company.”
“I’ve seen two or three guys speak to her and walk off. Maybe she’s choosey.”
“Hah, exactly like Linda! What’s a slut, someone who’ll fuck anybody? That wasn’t Linda. She was a whore but not a slut: choosey, as you say.”
“I gather she chose you.”
“She did, I’m glad to say: as a client and also as a teacher of sorts.”
Shep huffed in disbelief. “A what? Whores that old don’t need teaching, pal!”
“Not for herself.”
Shep waited but finally said impatiently, “You gonna tell me the story or not?”
“Let’s get another drink.”
* * *
The Green Bottle was a club not so close to the plant that I was likely to run into anyone from Enwright. I stopped in there on a lot of Seattle’s rainy evenings. Early on I met Linda and took her back to the hotel.
She became my habit every time I was in Seattle. We enjoyed each other’s talk as much as the fucking. She’d blow me first then we’d go to dinner in the hotel. Back in the room it was my turn to go down, then we’d have a nice long fuck. After she came a time or two she’d get on top and we’d do what she called “fuck talk” — mainly bragging on previous adventures. She especially liked tales about first times, kids getting started and so on. Let me tell you, that’s a fun way to spend time with a woman — cock soaking in her belly while you swap brags — if you can find one who’s up to it.
Me? In those days it would stay up as long as it was in a pussy.
VD? After the first few times I didn’t worry about it with Linda. She may have been the cleanest woman I ever knew. And very selective: she’d only go with clean men. I don’t know if it’s true, but she claimed she could taste disease in the eye of a dick. She’d stick one in her mouth and spit it out if it didn’t taste right, which was the last chance for that guy. This was before the AIDS scare but after the pill. Most of our fucking was bareback.
No, our fuck talk is not what I meant by ‘teaching.’ That happened during my longest period with her, when I supervised installing the new production line in Seattle. Had to site the machines, hire a bunch of people — Sorry, you’re not interested in that.
Anyway, one night when I sat down at Linda’s table, she smiled her welcome and said, “What’s this — four nights in a row?”
“I’m going to be in town for a couple months. Think you can stand me that often?”
“Every night for months? People will think we’re married!” She sniffed. “Be careful or you’ll meet the common law requirements.”
“Would that be so bad, Linda?”
She lost her smile. “Surely you know what I am, Kyle.”
“I’m just a little whore / Who wants dicks by the score.”
“Well, it’s true, every word of it.” She laughed dryly. “In fact it may be an understatement. Make it, Including a dose / Of dicks by the gross.”
She liked to do that: short rhymes right off the cuff: “couplets,” I think they’re called.
“I’m not asking for an exclusive.”
“You didn’t plan to show up every night?”
In fact that’s exactly what I’d planned to do. She saw it in my face as I said, “Maybe not every night.”
Her eyes narrowed; she had thought of something. “Actually, Kyle, you are a faithful client. Maybe we can work something out.”
She stood up. “Keep your seat. I’m going to make a phone call.”
I watched her walk away, hips swaying. She was wearing her usual lacey blouse, short skirt, nylons and pumps. Her figure was stunning, especially her legs. She was all soft curves and lots of them, with plenty of fat in the right places, but her waist size couldn’t have been much more than 30 inches.
Other girls lounged in the Green Bottle, doubtlessly just as available, but she outshone them all, and not only in appearance. In the right mood she could talk with abandon. She had told me in minute detail of the first cock she had sucked, how she’d reacted to the taste and feel, the jizz spurting into her throat. And the first time she took two cocks together in her pussy. Made her feel really full, she said. Did you ever find a woman to describe that? I never knew another!
She was the only woman in Seattle for me — with or without an exclusive. So I waited, sipping my drink.
She soon returned but finished her cocktail without sitting, so I stood up and drank mine. She said, “Kyle, instead of going to your hotel let’s try the Bullet. I’ll drive.”
The Bullet was a steakhouse across town. I had eaten there, though not with her. I said with a grin, “Don’t I get a blowjob first?”
“Such a creature of habit! All right, then, hang on.”
Again she marched away toward the telephone alcove. The wait this time was brief. Returning, she said, “Let’s go to my place. I’ll order a pizza to chase your jizz.”
She was smiling but I said, “Is something wrong, Linda?”
“No. I want to make you a proposition that won’t work at your hotel.”
“Don’t pester me. I’ll tell you over supper.”
A setup? Well, it was certainly a departure. In the years I’d been coming to Seattle I’d never seen her outside that same hotel. But I knew she was a whore with more integrity than a lot of judges. That she might want something to my disadvantage never occurred to me.
She drove a year-old Buick I hadn’t seen before. Obviously she wasn’t hurting for money. Thinking about it, also for the first time, I realized that one man a night at her rate would make a substantial yearly income.
It was a half-hour drive. What we talked about was on the mark.
“Kyle, why don’t you demand variety in your women?”
“What a question!” But I grinned. “Must be a character defect. When I got a divorce, my ex told me I was too lazy to court another woman.”
“What court? You only need a portrait of Benjamin Franklin.”
“Or two,” I riposted, reminding her of her own rate.
“Which just improves the quality,” she noted dryly. “All women are basically the same, but don’t men look for those little differences in feature and personal habit?”
“Are you really worried that I’m too faithful to you, at least in Seattle?”
“Actually I suppose it’s flattering.”
“It should be. You’re the best, Linda.”
“Of a bad lot, eh?”
“Hooray for the bad lot!”
That got a laugh. I said, “What’s this leading up to? Are you about to spring another broad on me?”
“I said, don’t pester.” She giggled. “‘Another broad,’ indeed!”
“Anyway, something to keep me from bothering you every night, eh?”
“You can understand, can’t you, Kyle, it would be a conflict?”
“With your other clients?”
She glanced at me briefly without answering.
I laughed. “Sorry, Babe; I never gave them a thought. But answer me this. If you had a schedule to keep, how could you have met me four nights in a row?”
“Maybe you got there first.”
Then I understood. She had no schedule, but how far would her regulars have scattered by the time I left Seattle?
“Okay,” I said, “I’ve decided to quit pestering you.”
“Only temporarily, I hope. If you quit pestering / Don’t you start festering.”
“Ugh.” We both laughed.
She parked in a multi-level garage next to a modern glass and steel apartment building. We took the elevator to the seventh floor and she keyed us into her apartment. Taking my hand, she pulled me past the foyer and a den of warm-colored furniture, through a swinging door into a kitchen that lit brightly when she flipped the switch.
Looking around, I said, “Nice place.” It even had an island stove and griddle.
“Thank you. Drop your pants, please.”
I grinned. “In the kitchen?”
“You always want my face lit up when you stick your dick in it. Well, this is the brightest room in the place.”
True. When she blows me in the hotel, I take the shade off the table lamp. So I dropped my pants.
She pushed me back so that I was half-sitting on the edge of the stove island, plopped her butt in a dragged up chair, leaned between my legs and slurped up my soft cock. Her eyes twinkled up at me. She had said before how much she loved to take it soft and feel it grow.
Her head was bobbing, it was growing and I was starting to thrill, so quickly no doubt because of the unusual circumstances, when someone behind her said, “Should I order the pizza?”
A strange woman was standing in another doorway. I would’ve turned away from Linda but her arms imprisoned my thighs.
Linda’s face rose slightly, enough that her lips only tickled the head of my cock, now a stiff stander. She grinned at me and said, “Kyle, say hello to May. That is just her name; / ‘You may’ is her game,” after which her mouth re-enclosed my cock.
So both were whores, no surprise. I said, “Hello, May.”
The newcomer said in a breathy soprano, “Pleased to meet you, Kyle.” But her expression was annoyed. “She loves to toss out that grungy rhyme! I think she named me with it in mind.”
Master and apprentice? Mother and daughter? At first impression the stranger was a good deal younger: the same height but slimmer with hardly any tits. I knew Linda’s face very well; this one was a sharper-chinned version with the same brown hair and blue eyes. She was dressed to go in blouse, jeans and sneakers.
Linda managed one tongue pull before backing away. “You think that one was grungy? How about, To become a good lay / Is the hope of our May?”
The girl’s lip curled but she said, “Guilty to that one.”
“That’s the spirit!” Licking her lips, Linda rose to her feet. “You take over here and I’ll call for the pizza.”
Without hesitation May fell to her jean-clad knees in front of me and professionally slurped up my cock. Linda went to a wall-mounted phone, lifted the receiver and punched its buttons.
From the facial resemblance I decided they were related, sisters or even mother and daughter, but if they wouldn’t mention it neither would I. Close up I recognized a few makeup-covered pimples on May’s cheeks and revised my age estimate downward. This could be serious.
I asked, “How old are you, May?”
May’s mouth was full, of course — and I really mean full. Her nose was parting my pubic hair. I looked at Linda, who interrupted her pizza description to say, “Old enough.”
“How old, May: sixteen?”
The girl’s eyes twinkled up at me. She could at least have nodded or shaken her head, but her only response was to make my cock disappear again. I felt a constriction in her throat while her hand squeezed my balls. By god, this girl was talented! I lost interest in her age.
She concentrated on fast full strokes: all the way in and all the way out except for half the head. Her nostrils flared for breath. Here was a teenager deep-throating my cock, whose last previous jizzing had occurred early that morning — into the same pussy through which this talented mouth might have passed less than 20 years ago.
A blowjob is most different from fucking in that you have no reason to worry about your partner’s pleasure. So I let it squirt, surprised only that it was so eager after this morning. May’s bobbing stopped. Her mouth retained only the head, which her tongue laved until it finished.
She backed away, hand pumping gently, and grinned up at me with bright eyes. No jizz was evident on her lips, but a white froth appeared when they parted. Mouth contorted to avoid spilling it, she said conversationally, “According to my hygiene teacher, I now have ten million half-babies in my mouth.”
Her hand was still thrilling my cock, so I was in no mood for fancy repartee, but I could at least admire her wit with a chuckle.
After swallowing ostentatiously she said, “And now I’m a cannibal.” She produced a soprano giggle.
I had to laugh with her. “You’re as whimsical as Linda.”
The older woman had finished with the phone and leaned an elbow on the stove to watch the performance. She said, “May, he likes to hear how it tastes.”
The girl’s tongue worked in her mouth. She said, “Not much taste, which means he doesn’t need to pee, right?”
“Not for a few hours,” I agreed.
The girl winked. “I think it tastes like man.”
“And do you like it?” said Linda.
May shrugged. “I don’t mind it.”
“Apparently not,” said Linda dryly. “You tasted the whole football team.”
May heaved to her feet and fell frowning into the chair Linda had used. “I’m not the only one. All the cheerleaders agree with you, Mama: sucking dicks is fun!”
My curiosity had surged. Now I chuckled. “Thanks for settling that.”
Linda nodded tolerantly. “Yeah, she’s my whelp.”
“Aw, you’re proud of me,” said the girl with a grin.
“In fact that’s true.”
The stove edge was creasing my ass. I spun and sank into a chair beside May, leaving my pants around my ankles. Both women eyed my dick, now starting to sag.
I said, “You’re in high school, May?”
She nodded. “I’m a junior.”
“And she’ll be doing well,” said Linda in her rhyming sing-song, “/ If her belly don’t swell.”
“Bad grammar, bad grammar!” cried May.
Linda shrugged. “Poetic license.”
“It won’t swell. I take my pills. Besides,” — her chin rose — “in cars or under bleachers they mostly want blowjobs.”
“Oh, oh!” cried Linda, eyes bright. “Go under the bleachers / To find their best features.” She smiled at her own wit but soon lost the humor. “That was my mistake,” she said, looking at me. “I was slow learning to suck, which nowadays is how the girls get started.”
“Your mistake?” I asked.
“My mistake just sucked you off. I popped her out when I was 19.”
I shook my head. “Never thought of you as a mother, Linda.”
“Why not?” She smiled invitingly.
“You’re fishing,” declared her daughter. “Next she’ll strip off and show you why not.”
“Oh, he’s already seen it.”
I chuckled. “Studied at close range, you mean. Your waist is slim and no stretch marks.” I would’ve mentioned her big tits as a counterclaim except for the daughter’s deficiency.
“You like my figure?”
“Always have. And I wouldn’t mind seeing it again.”
“After I pay for the pizza. But look at you! Maybe you need a little cuddling.”
After a glance at the object of her attention I said, “What I need is a tissue.”
May plucked one and bent near me to wipe the dribble off my thighs. Bending further, she guzzled my half-hard cock then looked up, licking her lips with a grin. “Good to the last drop.”
Linda said, “Though she won’t admit it, Kyle, she does love that taste.”
May giggled. “Just the opposite to my friend, Ginger, who backs off, makes a face and spits at the first spurt.”
I said, “Maybe she’s afraid of something.”
“She’s just contrary. You don’t catch VD by mouth — everybody says so — if you have good teeth. And I do.” She peeled her lips back to show me. Indeed her teeth were even and glistening white.
“Just had her braces off,” said Linda.
May resumed her seat but her extended hand stroked me gently. “You have a nice dick, Kyle. I like it.”
Linda sang, “She’s just a girl who loves the cock / That stands up on Tom, Dick or Jock.”
“Or Kyle,” said May, grinning.
If she felt like bragging, I was willing to hear it. “How did you find it out?”
“That I love cock? When I noticed how much better they feel than my hairbrush handle.”
Linda said, “You want to tell about Lawrence?”
The girl shrugged. “I don’t care. You tell him if you want.”
The woman paused, eyeing me speculatively.
I guessed, “Lawrence was her boyfriend?”
“Her first one. She had told me about the hairbrush because it made her bleed. I wanted some control over what happened next. You perhaps understand that I know more about this than most mothers.”
May laughed harshly. “She made the city loan me a boyfriend.”
“The city?” I said doubtfully.
“One of the commissioners was a, um, friend. He helped me become the foster mother of a teenage boy.”
The girl shook her head. “Larry was such a dork!”
Linda grinned slightly. “Just a virgin, intimidated, so they said, by the other kids at the orphanage. His confidence grew quick here. He had a man’s dick even at 14, longer but thinner than average.”
I grinned. “Sounds like foster incest.”
“Oh, no! That would’ve been pedophilia.” She grinned. “Besides, I got him for May. Even if a dork / He soon blew her cork.”
With a laugh the girl added, “He learned to sling pork.”
“Like mother, like daughter,” I said resignedly.
They both laughed.
“‘Longer but thinner,’ you said. Did he teach May to deep throat?”
The girl thrust her chin toward her mother. “She’s the one who pushed my head into his belly till I quit gagging.”
“Interesting,” I said. “So Linda Lovelace wasn’t a natural?”
My Linda sneered. “Everybody gags when something gets in the throat. It’s a reflex. But I think you can overcome it if you start training early enough. That’s why I can’t do it, at least not comfortably. I didn’t have May’s advantages.”
The doorbell rang and Linda disappeared toward the front of the house. May gave my dick a last kiss, straightened up and said, “Are you going to kick your pants off?”
I stepped out of them, deposited them in the chair and followed the girl to the adjacent dinette. It had molded plastic chairs and a transparent glass table.
Linda glided in, holding the pizza boxes high. “May, get the drinks. Kyle, will you have a beer?”
We were well into the pizza when Linda announced, “The bare dick on friend Kyle / Goes with pizza in style.”
May giggled nasally and said around a mouthful, “We just got this table. Your dick is the first to shine through it.”
I couldn’t let that pass. Working brain as fast as jaws, I finally retorted, “Pussies bare under glass / Would do more for my ass.”
No, I couldn’t have said “camel toes;” they hadn’t been invented yet.
“Oh, god!” sneered May.
Linda cocked her head and sniffed critically. “At least he got the meter right.”
“And I get the message.” May jumped to her feet and shedded sneakers, jeans and panties before plopping back into her seat. I had to shift a pizza box to note a slim Mohawk running half way up to her navel.
“Oh, all right!” Linda said and proceeded to outdo both examples, in a jiffy removing every piece of her clothing. I already knew she shaved her pubes. Big tits bounced as the sat back down and regarded her daughter with a self-satisfied air.
May and I exchanged glances. I started to unbutton my dress shirt as her blouse went over her head. She beat me to total nudity. Her tits were B-cups at most. Their best features were perky, conical nipples.
When I resumed my seat naked, she said with a smirk, “Is this your preferred pizza style, Kyle?”
I grinned. “I’d say yea, May, but don’t believe I ever had the pleasure before today.”
“You’ve eaten it naked!” declared Linda correctly.
“But not with two such pretty women.” I took a bite, chewed a while and resumed an earlier subject. “What happened to Lawrence?”
May sniffed. “He turned out to be a klepto.”
“A what? You mean he stole things?”
Linda nodded. “From us, from the mall and from the orphanage, which is why they threw him out. Of course the city never told us about that.”
May winked. “But his slim dick slipped into some tight spots first.”
I grinned at her. “You learned to love it, I gather.”
“At first taste.”
Linda sniffed. “You could say she led him around by it.”
I nodded. “Flew him, you mean. On a teenage boy it’s like an airplane joystick. How long did he stay with you?”
“About 18 months, till he got caught sneaking out of a store with a carton of beer in his backpack.”
I thought about that. “Surprised he didn’t rat on you to the cops.”
May sat up. “For what? She hadn’t touched him.”
“Didn’t you admit watching him poke May?”
“Is just watching illegal?” asked the girl.
“If the kid is under 16 or maybe 17. Tell me you’re not 15, May.”
Linda shrugged. “He may have said something, but who’d believe a known teenage thief?”
“Want to see my driver’s license?” asked May.
“Card you for cocksucking? Actually that makes sense nowadays, except I’m running a bit late.”
“She’s 17,” said Linda, “old enough in this uptight state. And she misses Lawrence a little too much.”
May disdained more pizza. She took a swig of her coke and regarded me with a curious expression.
I said to Linda, “Is this how you lead up to your proposition?”
May giggled. “Don’t you get it? She wants another foster child.”
That made me blink.
“Don’t be silly!” Linda said with a frown. “I’m trying to solve your problem, Kyle, and one of my own.”
I suggested, “Named May with the hot pants?”
The girl spread her legs. “May with the no pants.”
Linda sighed. “That’s the gist of it. You are certainly no child, Kyle — from any direction. Actually you’re a great poke. I know you know how to please a woman. I’d love it if you could ruin May for all the teenage football players.”
I winked at the girl, who was licking her lips. “Want me to ruin her, do you?”
“Says her footballers are too quick / To throw a pass or squirt a dick.”
May tossed her head. “They can last on the second shot.”
“If you can keep them fucking. I’m afraid she’ll try a gangbang or, worse, another girl.”
I wiped my mouth with the napkin and pushed back my chair. “What do you want, May?”
She considered the question and finally shrugged. “I want dick.”
“I’ve got one and it likes your touch.”
“A girl of simple tastes,” said Linda, I could swear with a touch of pride, “like her mother.”
May threw down her napkin and rose to her feet. “Then come on.”
I stood up. Both sets of female eyes followed my shriveled cock.
The mother said, “If it’s not too soon.”
May’s eyes rose to mine. “What do you want, Kyle?”
“To see what you have in mind.” I gestured. “Lead on.”
She led me through a second doorway into a girl’s bedroom, pink walls obscured with large prints of male rock stars, and turned immediately to regard me expectantly.
I held out my arms and said with a smile, “May I have this kiss?”
She tilted her head at the woman who had entered behind us. “She’s already told you: ‘you may’ is my game.”
We embraced and this time she kissed my lips, opening hers to play tongue tag. She was slimmer than her mother, a light armful that would be great on the dance floor. Her hand dropped to my rising cock. Mine searched below her Mohawk and found wetness. Apparently she did indeed want dick. The woman slipped around us and turned down the bed.
With my hand cupping May’s butt I set her on the edge of the bed, separated her legs and stooped to push my face between them. She shivered at the first thrust of my tongue. It worked around her clit. Cool thighs closed on my head.
Her reaction restored full starch. When the shudders led to heaves and grunts to moans, I rose over her and slipped it in. This caused a sweet soprano cry that sounded again with every thrust. I soon realized she was coming, over and over.
This carried on for a good while. Eyes clenched shut and mouth open with lips clamped over teeth, hands clutching my arms, she kept squealing as long as I kept poking her. Of course, a woman going off under you like a string of firecrackers is the ultimate stimulus, especially when she’s a teenage girl, so I didn’t last as long as I might have — under the same conditions with her mother, for example — not that I recalled the woman ever coming off so continually.
After leaving my second deposit in May, I backed away and stood up. She lay panting, arms splayed out, legs dangling, smiling up at me.
Linda was sitting in the room’s only chair, chin in hand. She had watched without interfering. She said to her daughter, “How do you feel now?”
“Wonderful!” the girl breathed. “You were right, Mama. I didn’t guess it could be like that.”
Linda nodded. “The difference between man and boy.” To me she said smugly, “And what did you think, Kyle?”
“That May is a sweetheart. Let’s hear the rest of your proposition.”
* * *
Kyle said, “Of course I agreed to it, moved out of the hotel and in with Linda. Rent was the same as I’d paid the hotel. She even typed me up weekly receipts to recover my expenses from Enwright, who didn’t care what name was on the top. I slept with May, sometimes with Linda when she didn’t spend the night with another client. To keep her social standing, May continued to blow the football players but according to her, my cock was the only one admitted to her pussy.”
“You believed that?” said Shep.
Kyle grinned. “Why not? She was out late only on game nights. In fact she was conscientious with her studies. Sometimes I helped her with problems. I still remember one. Picture a square with a circle centered on each of the four corners. A side of the square equals the diameter of each circle. Question: what is the area of that part of the square not covered by parts of circles?”
Shep shook his head. “Was never any good at math.”
“Well, the answer is the area of the square minus the area of any circle. The funny part is the next day in class her teacher said, ‘May, you’re the only one who got that right. How’d you do it?’
“May told the class, ‘It wasn’t me; it was my grandpa.’”
“Her ‘grandpa!’” Shep laughed.
“I teased her about fucking grandpa, but in fact I didn’t mind if she thought of me that way.”
Shep nodded slowly. “I guess she couldn’t say her dad.”
“Even though that was closer to the right age difference.”
Shep’s eyes sparkled. “God, sounds like you had a really great time! How long did you stay with them?”
“Not long enough. You’re right, it was an ideal situation for me, and the women never complained. But in two months Enwright’s production was in full swing and I had to return to Cleveland.” Kyle sighed. “I’ve often thought I should’ve married Linda.”
“Married!” Shep was obviously shocked. “Marry a whore?”
“One who’d tell me all her adventures while her daughter deep-throated me.” Kyle cocked his head. “I never could understand why a man should fear his wife fucking other men. Tell me why they do, will you?”