0 comments/ 54031 views/ 5 favorites The Clara Chronicles Ch. 01 By: HarveyMarcus WARNING: The following story is for the entertainment of ADULTS ONLY, and contains descriptions of explicit sex. If you are not an adult, or reading sex stories upset you, or you are offended by subjects of a sexual nature - do not read any further! This story is for entertainment only. It contains adult oriented material. This is a work of fiction. The acts and characters contained within are figments of my imagination and have no basis in fact. I do not practice, advocate, condone or encourage acts portrayed here. The characters in the story are entirely fictional. You need to believe that all of the characters are over the age of eighteen. This story may not be reproduced in any form for profit without the written permission of the author. * * * * * * * * * * This story begins a new series. I'll let the words speak for themselves... * * * * * * * * * * Close Knit It didn't take long after the For Sale sign went up at the Cocksworths' former residence for a moving truck to show up in their driveway. Something about that house, turning over so often. Had some witch cast a curse over it, preventing residents from staying too long? If so, there was a sexual aspect to the curse, given how many young women I'd coupled with within its walls. My curiosity boiled over. A family with grown kids? Maybe a young couple buying their first house? Even better, a sorority! We aren't all that far from a local college. Maybe they have initiations that call for male volunteers - The doorbell interrupted my reverie, dozens of nubile co-eds in various states of undress. A woman I guessed to be a few years past my age, based on the volume of grey hair, stood on my stoop with a smile and a large knitting bag hanging on her shoulder. Needles stuck out from the top. "Hello there. I'm Clara Bichano, your new neighbor." She pointed to the Cocksworths' place. "May I use your telephone, please?" "Sure." I opened the screen door. "Come on in. It's on the table in the hallway. She walked over and picked up the receiver. "Those phone company people can be so unreliable. They were supposed to have my service up and running by now. I can't stand unreliability, don't you?" This woman was a piece of work. Wearing a long knit dress in eighty-degree heat? "Nice outfit." "Thanks, I made it myself. That's my passion, truth be told. Most all my clothes are off my own two needles." She pulled a slip of paper from the bag on her arm and tapped buttons on the phone. "I'm calling a rug cleaner. There are yellow stains on the living room and bedroom carpets. The Cocksworths must have been sloppy eaters." I swallowed hard. "Really?" Those stains were my sperm, unless Harry leaked around the house. She cradled the receiver to her ear, pulled out the two needles and continued work on some item while talking to me. "I should warn you, I'll be having lots of company. Family, to be specific. Oh, and there'll be trucks and workmen for the next week or so. I'm putting in a swimming pool." "Really?" Nice amenity, and the opportunity for bikinis and skinny-dipping. God, can't I ever get my mind out of the gutter? "For your inconvenience, you'll all be welcome to use it, of course. Neighbors can be like family. In fact, let me knit you something." She hung up. "A swimsuit, that's obvious." "I have swimsuits." Baggy ones, so my erection doesn't show. "Posh! Something else, perhaps?" "A scarf? I'm a big Dr. Who fan, and the Tom Baker version -" "Of course. Perfect!" She stuffed her latest project back into the bag. "I'll have to go out and get the right colors, to make it authentic." "Don't go to that trouble. Use anything you have laying around. A random mix will look just as good." Clara shot me a stern look, like a teacher staring down a naughty student. And I was naughty, wasn't I? "A Tom baker scarf is not to be dallied with. It's a classic! There' a right way and a wrong way to everything, that's what I always say." She whipped a cloth tape measure from her bag. "Now, let me take some measurements." "For the scarf?" "No, silly. I have the precise colors and dimensions at home, or at least packed away in one of my boxes. So many boxes to handle. For the swimsuit." She snapped the tape measure like a belt. "Now, drop your drawers so I can take accurate measurements." I hesitated. "Come come, I've seen plenty of men in their skivvies. And a lot less." No harm, I guess. My pants hit the floor. She put her arms around me to take my waist measurement. That put us body to body. Although she wasn't my type, the incidental hug got my penis going. Shit, she'll see my erection and get the wrong idea. She completed my waist measurement and jotted it on a page of a notebook. "Now, your inseam. Spread your legs, honey. Would you like it long or brief?" The lump in my jockeys was obvious. Clara giggled as her knuckles grazed my balls and the underside of my erection. "Never mind, I'll make it long. You'll require expansion room, I can see. You're very lucky, but your lady friends are luckier." She broke into a laugh. "You're the first serious competition for Mr. Stiffy I've seen in a long while." Huh? "Do what you do, do well, that's what I always say. All righty, pull them up. I'm finished." I had to ask. "Who's Mister Stiffy?" Clara pulled a flesh-colored dildo from her knitting bag. "A girl needs company at any age, rightly?" She stroked the veined imitation penis, and then tossed it back in her bag. "Nice to meet you." We shook hands. I almost expected the "fuck me" handshake, index finger curled under, but no suck luck. Her ass swayed as she strutted down our walk and returned to her side of the street. Gee, a neighborhood swimming pool right across the street. Maybe Annie's friends will use it to hang out. Hmm, I wonder how a knit bikini holds up when wet? * * * * * * * * * * Two weeks later, Clara, my new across-the-street neighbor, called with an urgent request. "I'm hosting my niece Reid for a visit. She wants to swim in my new pool. It's certainly warm enough, but she's not very skilled. I'd watch her myself, but an emergency has come up. I was wondering, could you play lifeguard for maybe half an hour? Besides, it will give you a chance to use the bathing suit I knitted for you." She chortled. "It's done already?" There had only been that one measurement session, where Clara groped me between my legs. "Oh yes, and it's one of my most unique creations. To deal with your extended physiology." She meant my dick. In every bathing suit I'd ever owned, an erection was as obvious as the nose on my face. An eight-inch nose. I was more than curious. "Sure, I'll watch your niece." I didn't admit that the dog paddle was the extent of my swimming prowess. I'd just keep Reid out of the deep end. Problem avoided. I crossed the street, looking both ways. Some of the teens in the neighborhood were driving now, and my street had more than its share of hot-rodding. Clara greeted me at the front door with a clump of red and blue material in her hand. "Thank you, Mr. Marcus. Now put this on and I'll introduce you to my niece. She's cooling her heels out back." Clara handed me a mass of knit tentacles. I held up the red swimming suit, which was adorned with over a dozen blue protruding tubes. Each was a knit cylinder about six inches long, filled with foam, sticking out. Was this some kind of joke? "I can't wear this." "Oh, but you must. I made it especially for your condition. You'll see." She pointed to the powder room on the first floor. I'd cleaned up there once after sex with Randi and Brandi. "Go on." I locked the door, so that Clara didn't bust in while I was undressed. I slipped out of my clothes and stacked them on the floor. It was impossible to tell the front of the swimsuit from the back until I examined the tentacles more closely. All of them except one was filled with a foam insert, making them stand away from the body of the suit. However, one was hollow. Ah ha! I pulled the suit up my legs, keeping the empty tentacle in front. With my dick flaccid, it fit nicely in the knit cylinder, hanging down. The other tentacles were elevated, camouflaging my organ. And, if for some reason I got an erection, my dick would look like just another foam protrusion. Clara was brilliant! This is the kind of creativity Zenellis would have rewarded. After taking a series of compromising pictures for blackmail, of course. I opened the door. Clara stood, admiring her work. "How does it fit?" she asked. "You did a great job." "Yes, I did." She reached forward and gave the only limp tentacle an extended squeeze. "Just keep the suit dry." Her grope caused some inflation. Now my penis was a perfect match for its foam-filled neighbors. Keeping a bathing suit dry made no sense, but she was the fabricator, so I nodded. "Follow me out back. You haven't seen the pool, have you?" She paused at the back door. "Before I introduce you, you should know the reason Reid is here is. My sister doesn't know how to deal with Reid's insatiable curiosity about sex." Great, leaving me alone with a sexually curious young woman. I knew how this would end, and it hadn't started. Clara continued, "She's been asking questions, and I've done my best to answer them. But she's very vulnerable right now; so as much as you might be tempted, don't do anything with her while I'm away. Agreed?" "Fine by me. I'm just here to keep her water-safe." In all of my visits to the Cockswells', I had never looked out into their backyard. Clara had made quite an investment. The deck material was simulated stone with a grippy surface, to prevent slips and accidents. The pool itself was a rectangle with rounded corners. Lanes had been painted for serious swimming. "I do a couple dozen laps every morning. It's great exercise." At the far end were two diving boards, one low and one much higher, at least from my perspective. Sitting on a nylon mesh chair was a young lady in a terrycloth robe down to her knees. She was slim with her hair pulled back into a high ponytail. The slight pattern continued with her legs. Her eyes went wide at the sight of me, or perhaps it was my unique bathing suit. "Mr. Marcus, this is my niece." Reid held out her arm. Her handshake was like a wet noodle. Reid needed lessons on her grip. "Reid, Mr. Marcus has agreed to watch you while I'm gone." Reid crossed her arms on her chest. "I don't need a babysitter." I hadn't thought of my role in that light, but Reid was right. This time, I was the babysitter. "You won't even know I'm here," I said. "Mr. Marcus won't be obtrusive," said Clara. "Stay in the shallow end of the pool until I get back and test you." "Oh, Auntie." Clara strutted away. For an old broad, she still knew how to shake her ass. Reid's sour expression lasted until she looked back at me. The sight of my octopus suit brought a smile back to her face. "Did Auntie knit that for you?" I nodded. "She says she knits all the time." Reid came closer and batted at one of the tentacles. Phew, a foam one. "I think it's cute. If you were a superhero, they'd call you PenisMan." Her first sexual comment. I tried to keep a straight face. Ignore her and she'll stop. "She made my suit too." Reid opened her robe. Reid had a nice shape, too nice to ignored. The bulk of her height was from her legs. On top, the bikini was form fit. The cups covered her half-globe breasts precisely, with strings holding the cups to her chest. On the bottom, her crotch was wrapped in matching blue, with strings around her flared hips, tied at the sides. The rest of Reid's body was bare, available for inspection. "What do you think?" She did a model's turn. Her ass was round with not a hint of sag. Expected at her age. How old was she, anyway? No matter, I promised hands off. "Clara certainly matches form with function," I said. "Can I show you my dive?" Reid asked. "I've been practicing at school." The ponytail must have slipped, because she raised her hands above her head to tighten it. Reid's chest pushed forward, the strings taut. I wondered how much tension it would take for the top to pop, so I could see those perfectly shaped tits. I was tempted to ask what school. College meant legal. High school left the question open, but probably not. "You heard your aunt. Shallow end." Reid jumped into the knee-high water. "Are you coming in? I need someone to play with." It wasn't going to be me. "No thanks." Clara had warned me off getting the suit wet. So, if there was a problem, what was I supposed to do? Throw Reid a life preserver. A quick glance around the pool area told me that wasn't an option. A wave of water doused me. Reid laughed and sprayed me again. She had a supply of ammunition while I was a stationary target, defenseless. Since I couldn't go in, she was safe from retaliation. Reid was no dummy. I hadn't entered the pool. She edged her way around until she was in the deep end. Oh shit! Reid leaped from the edge and caught the lip of the low diving board. She must have had more arm strength than was evident from her physique and handshake, because she lifted herself up onto the board from the water. The top half of her body was prone against the board, her ass sticking out. Only a string ruined the butt landscape. God, her ass cheeks were round. Her legs flailed as she tried to climb the rest of the way onto the board. Flashes of crotch from thighs opening and closing had the expected result. Now my dick rose higher than any of the foam filled appendages. Reid made it up and was standing on the board, hands on her hips. "Watch this." "Don't!" I tried to be authoritative without any reasonable threat to back me up. "Okay, I'll use the higher board." She scampered off one and onto the other before I could run the length of the pool. I thought about rushing onto the board, but she might jump out. Instead, I took a place at the side of the deep end. "Have you used a board that high?" I asked. "Nope, but what's the diff? All boards are the same." I was about to explain about tension adjustments and spring, but I was too late. She'd backed up and skipped the short length, pausing to bounce on the end. Except the board sprung back fast. Her legs took the impact, buckling her knees and passing the stored momentum up her body. She leaned, tilted and fell forward. Her foot thumped against the end of the board as she toppled. Damn! She went under, unprepared. The hell with the suit. I jumped in, cannonball style and opened my eyes. The chlorine burned. Reid was two feet under; eyes and mouth wide open in a silent scream. I grabbed her around the waist and pulled her up. She coughed and spit as we broke the surface, but at least she was breathing. With only one hand to paddle, it took a while for me to get us to the edge by a ladder. I pushed her up first. One hand on her bare ass was necessary to get her out. Yes, I enjoyed the feeling, but this was a rescue, not a seduction. I climbed out after her. She'd collapsed on the grass, curled up in fetal position, coughing. I helped her to her feet and led to a concrete bench, one of many bordering the pool. She leaned forward, still spitting up water. Her drenched bikini top sagged away from her body. The upper curves of her tits were exposed. No droop at all. "See what happens when you don't listen." I used my best disregarded-father demeanor. "You could have drowned." Reid looked up. Her eyes got big and her mouth opened. I glanced down. All of the foam filled tubes sagged after absorbing water. Only the one holding my dick stood outright. Damn, that's why Clara warned me away. So now what? "What's wrong with your swimsuit?" she asked. She leaned closer. To prevent her from grabbing hold, I backed away, several feet. "I don't know what you mean." I turned my back, praying for my erection to subside. Reid jogged around in front of me, within arms reach. "It looks like there's a problem with your suit. Mine too. See?" She spread the material around one breast. A nipple was trapped between the knits and purls. "It pinches real bad." In a smooth motion she pulled the top off her tits and over her head. So that's how it would happen. The breast flesh was firm and remained the same shape without support. And her two nipples were fiercely erect. She rubbed her breasts, letting her fingers flick the nipples. "Do you like my titties?" she asked. "Do you think I'm sexy? I, mean, since they're so small?" I swallowed hard. What could I say that would be honest but not lead her on? "They're very nice. But you should cover up, because I shouldn't be looking at them." "Why are all of your octopus thingies hanging down except this one?" She put her hand around the knit sock that covered my prick. A look of combined surprise and delight flashed onto her face. "Oh my god! Is this your-" She stopped talking and grabbed even harder. The material chafed my sensitive skin. She shook, agitated, with a firm grip, not like her handshake. "Oh my god. I've got my hand on your -" She refused to name the object of her attention. And it was at full attention, due to her grip. "You're rubbing me the wrong way." Literally. She opened her fingers. "Was I doing it wrong? Tell me, and I'll do it better. Please give me a chance." To do what? Give her a sex education? I didn't sign on for that. Clara had been explicit. "The suit was irritating, that's all. Like your top excited your nipples." They hadn't gone down. "My penis is sensitive. You did nothing wrong." Why give the young lady a complex and deprive many young men hand jobs? "I can fix that." Before I could react, she slid the suit from my hips. Except, my penis had swollen so much that the tube didn't come off. So the suit hung from my dick at mid-thigh, my penis trapped in the cylinder. "I've got it," she said. She used her fingertips to peel the sheath from my dick, and then there was nothing left to hide. Her hand returned to my erection, just past the tip. "Is that better?" God, it was terrific. She bounced with excitement, her arm motions vigorous. My prick was drooling at the prospect of sex. That gave her additional lubrication. Her hand slid, distributing precum over the head and under the most sensitive areas under the crown. "It's getting slimy. Is that supposed to happen?" "Yes. Slick is good." But what she was doing was not. I backed away. A cement bench caught the backs of my legs. I fell, grabbing the bench before I fell over. I ended up on my back, one leg on each side of the bench. Reid ran over, straddled the bench and sat close to me. Once more, her hand found my prick. "Why is slippery good?" she asked. What was I supposed to say? That it allows easier access to a woman's pussy? At least her bottoms were still in place, although with her legs spread, the edges of her cunt lips were peeking into view. Reid leaned forward, her face less than a foot from my dick. "We shouldn't be doing this," I cautioned. "Damn right you shouldn't." It was Clara. What timing! "What did I tell you?" Was she talking to Reid or me? "Come here, young lady." Reid and Clara sauntered away, Clara's arm around her niece. I couldn't hear their discussion, but Reid's arms waved wildly, occasionally her finger pointing to me on the bench. My erection began to fade. Thank goodness. Clara would straighten Reid out, I'd get dressed, and that would be that. A major gaff avoided. I grabbed my octopus suit and covered my crotch with it. The pair walked back to my bench, Clara's hand on Reid's shoulder. Friends again, how nice. "All settled?" "Yes, Mr. Marcus," said Clara. "Except I'd like your assistance with a demonstration." Oh oh. Why did this feel like the proverbial slippery slope? "What kind of demonstration?" The Clara Chronicles Ch. 01 "Nothing you'd object to, I'm sure. Your penis is the first one Reid has ever seen. I want to use it as a prop, if you will. Is that okay with you?" A prop? "Just to demonstrate?" "That's right. Just lay back and trust me." This was the same woman who'd groped my dick twice. She'd also told me to keep my hands off her niece, and I had. How far could this demonstration go, anyway? My prick was ahead of my head on that one. My erection returned. Clara plucked my swimsuit away. "See? Mr. Marcus must be having lascivious thoughts. He is getting hard again. Naughty Mr. Marcus, but perfect for our purposes." Reid scratched at her groin. Was her cunt tingling, or was it the material? "What's wrong, dear?" Clara asked. "Our suits were itchy," said Reid. "You should have used softer yarn." "Is that right? I'm terribly sorry." With a flick, Clara untied one of Reid's bows. Her g-string bottom fell to the bench. Clara snatched it up. "I'll need to insert liners." Reid's pussy was explicitly exposed, with her legs on either side of the bench. "Reid told me you advised her slippery was good. Is that correct?" I couldn't take my eyes off Reid's cunt, just a couple of feet away. It looked damp. "Why don't you check if Reid is slippery?" Clara asked. I started to reach forward but stopped in mid-gesture. "You told me to keep my hands off. Right?" Clara stroked her chin. Reid's hand returned to my dick. "Yes, that's correct. Reid, why don't you use Mr. Marcus's penis to see if you're slippery." Reid froze in mid stroke. "Huh?" "Straddle his hips and rub his erection along your vaginal opening, to determine if you're slippery." This was some demonstration. Did Clara intend for me to demonstrate penetration? Reid's hand was unsteady as she positioned herself above me. She had to crouch a bit for our genitals to make contact. But what contact it was! "That's right, slide his penis back and forth. Does it feel slippery?" "Oh yes! But how do I know if it's from his leaking, or from me?" "Hang on for a moment." Clara scooted over to a nearby chair and grabbed a towel. With a swipe, she dried my prick. "There. Try again." I could tell immediately it was Reid's secretions that were lubricating her pussy. "I must be leaking!" Reid's front to back motions concentrated at the front. "Why does one spot feel better?" "That's your clitoris. It's like a very small penis, and extremely sensitive. Mr. Marcus, would you do the honors. "But you said no -" Clara cut me off. "Use your tongue. That would be gentler than your fingers anyway." Reid laid back. I sat up and bent towards her pussy. It reeked of sex. God, she was juicy. My tongue confirmed her excretions. The tip of my tongue slid up her crease, finding her sex nubbin between the folds of skin. I lapped at her pussy with the flat of my tongue, and flicked her clit with the tip. Reid's hips lurched up to my face in response. She gurgled and sighed. Clara stood tall, almost proud. "There. See, Reid? Very sensitive indeed." Reid sat up and pushed me back. Her hand grabbed my dick and thrust it against her cunt. Although she was pretending merely to slide my dick along the outside, the head split her cunt lips. I wasn't technically in her, but my dick was massaging the opening. With any extra pressure, I'd pop past. Coach Clara kept an eagle eye peeled. "Keep stroking, Reid. You're not ready for penetration." Thank God Clara had some limits to this demonstration. It wouldn't take much more titillation and I'd be cuming. "Do you want Reid to see a man ejaculate?" "Why, Mr. Marcus? Are you close?" "It's not going to take much more, I'll tell you that." "All right then. Reid, follow my directions very carefully. When a man is stimulated, he climaxes by ejaculating sperm from his penis. You've done a superb job of getting Mr. Marcus aroused and maintaining sexual stimulation. A woman also has the opportunity to climax. How are you feeling?" "I could use some more, you know, excitement." "Very well. Mr. Marcus, Perhaps Reid's breasts could use some attention. Her nipples were pointy, waiting to be sucked. So I sucked them, one at a time. "Better?" Clara asked. "Uhhh-huhhhhh." Reid moaned. Then I felt the pop. The tip of my dick was past her cunt lips. It was minimal, but penetration nonetheless. Reid was no longer rubbing me along her slit. She was pumping me, up and back, just inside her pussy. Only the head was penetrating. She was tight. The pressure was amazing. Blood rushed to keep my dick firm against her resisting flesh. Should I rat Reid out? Clara could see for herself, if she looked. "Reid, you're not rubbing, you're humping." She slapped Reid's ass. "You're not ready." "But Auntie, it feels so good." The second slap was even sharper. Reid rose up and my penis broke free. "Perhaps you should help hold Reid up. Place your hands around and under her thighs." I did as she commanded, the tips of my fingers inches away from her pussy, just below her ass cheeks. "I know!" Clara shouted. "You two haven't kissed. Show her how a man kisses a woman he loves." Reid leaned forward and tilted her head to the side. Our lips met, soft and gentle. I wanted to inhale her. Her leg strength was failing, and in my position, I had little leverage. Slowly, she was sinking, my prick poised at her cunt. And the rubbing against her and the kissing had my dick throbbing for release. I wanted to cum real bad. If she didn't move soon, I'd thrust my hips up and fill her up. "Reid, did it feel good to have Mr. Marcus's penis inside?" "Oh yes!" Reid whimpered. "Soo good. Can I have it again?" "Just the tip, like before." I wasn't asked, but then again, would I have said no? Just by her squatting, I reentered Reid's moist crevasse. Reid shook, trying to maintain her precarious position. "Can I take more? Oh please, you're both teasing me." And me. I wanted to fuck, too. We both did. Mean Clara, controlling us, manipulating us. How about a fucking demonstration? "Bounce up and down, but just on the tip," said Clara. The most sensitive part of my dick is just below the head, on the bottom side. And it was getting a torturing workout, wiggling past Reid's tight hole. Not as tight as before, but extremely stimulating. Without doing anything else, more than sufficient for me to blow a load. "Maybe I should show Reid an ejaculation," I said. I figured spunking on her chest, between her breast mounds, would be effective. "Not yet. Are you getting hotter?" Clara asked Reid. "Oh yes. It feels so good. We're fucking, aren't we? Please, tell me we're fucking." "This is an advanced form of foreplay, not true fucking." Bullshit! I was penetrating Reid's tight pussy. Yes, maybe only an inch or two, but I was in just the same. "Can I have more, so that I'm fucking?" Reid asked. "How are you coming, Mr. Marcus? Almost ready?" I nodded, gritting my teeth and holding my breath. I expected that after just a couple more strokes, by Reid or myself, she'd have a stream of cum across her torso. "Let me know when you're about to burst, and we'll take the next step. Reid, remember what we agreed?" Reid was moaning. I pushed her hand away as my hips bucked. I wanted fucking, even if it was only two inches deep. I couldn't hold back. "I'm ready!" I shouted. "Do it, Reid" said Clara. "Now!" Reid took a deep breath and sat down hard. My prick ripped into her pussy, the full eight inches. The shock dazed me, but not my reproductive system. The tight flesh caressing my dick provided the last bit of resistance I needed. Sperm erupted inside her pussy. "Now ride him. Ride him until you reach orgasm," Clara cried. Reid leaned against me, her head on my shoulder. She gripped my arms, bouncing her hips against me. Although I'd ejaculated, the velvety friction of her pussy was maintaining my erection. God, she was fucking me, like an animal, long hard thrusts. So I joined in, matching her timing, lifting my hips off the unforgiving concrete on her downward pulse. Reid began to moan, grunting like an animal. "Yes, yes, yes, oh yes, harder, deeper, gimme, fuck, gimme, gimme." My cum acted as lubricant, keeping our organs sliding. Reid stopped humping and ground her cunt against my pubis, the top edge of my dick against her clit. Reid shrieked, once, twice, three times, then fell limp against me. I held her in an embrace. We were both spent. The demo was over. "And that, my dear, is sex. Hot, lusty, and successful for both parties." Clara turned to me. "Thank you, Mr. Marcus, for a marvelous demonstration." "You're welcome. I think." Clara helped Reid get up from my groin. Her genitals were puffy and red, well exercised. My erection was gone, my dick deflated and sticky. "Would you like to stay and watch Reid's swimming lesson?" Clara asked. "No thanks," I replied. "I'm going to use the power room and get dressed." "As you wish. Reid will be here the remainder of the week." Reid smiled and licked her lips. I waved, to be polite. A repeat performance under Clara's supervision was out of the question. If I was going to have sex, it was going to be under my terms, not those of a horny old lady. I padded into the house, naked. My clothes were still in the pile I'd left. When I exited the powder room, dressed, Clara was waiting for me. "You deserve an explanation." Damn right! A demonstration of foreplay that was spun into hardcore fucking! I stood silent, arms folded on my chest. "Go on." "I was lucky enough to have a good husband, Elmer, may he rest in peace. He was built like you, long and hard, almost exactly. Surely I have needs, but I'm too old to be catting around for male company, if you know what I mean." I nodded. Clara continued, "I believe it's important for a young woman to learn the pleasures of sex, and her responsibilities as well. So when my relatives, like my sister, have problems with their children that way, they turn them over to me. Elmer used to assist, bless his heart." Oh yes, Blessed Elmer of The Big Dick, fucking his nieces for educational value. Like I'm buying that. "After he passed, my lessons became completely theoretical. I'd use pictures and such, assisted by Mr. Stiffy. I had a blow-up male doll once, but one of my heavier nieces came down too hard and it exploded." I thanked my lucky stars Reid wasn't that niece. "I believe that fate has brought us together. For a special purpose." "Your partner in sex ed?" I asked. Clara nodded vigorously, and then took my right hand in both of hers. "You are truly blessed with perfect physiology. I can direct your gift to those who need it." Yeah, right between the legs of her female family members. I wondered how large Clara's family was, but decided not to ask. "I'll consider it, on a case-by-case basis." Clara smiled like a Cheshire Cat. She reached down and gave my dick a squeeze, her version of a handshake to seal our agreement? I'd made a deal with a horny devil. (to be continued) ### An Original H M Tale I'm always interested in reader feedback. Tell me what you think at my email address. Copyright (c) 2007, HarveyMarcus. All Rights Reserved. The Clara Chronicles Ch. 02 WARNING: The following story is for the entertainment of ADULTS ONLY, and contains descriptions of explicit sex. If you are not an adult, or reading sex stories upset you, or you are offended by subjects of a sexual nature - do not read any further! This story is for entertainment only. It contains adult oriented material. This is a work of fiction. The acts and characters contained within are figments of my imagination and have no basis in fact. I do not practice, advocate, condone or encourage acts portrayed here. The characters in the story are entirely fictional. You need to believe that all of the characters are over the age of eighteen. This story may not be reproduced in any form for profit without the written permission of the author. This story may be freely distributed with this notice attached. * * * * * * * * * * This tale starts immediately after "Vonna's Photo Shoot" where I had a twofer - both Vonna and her aunt, the infamous Saroya Zenellis. See just how small the world is? It was Friday, the day before Harriett got home with her transplanted British assistant, who was also to be our new freeloading boarder. I owed Clara, the woman across the street, a meet-up with another one of her nieces, in return for the photography lessons her family friend Viktor and his daughter had provided. Oh yes, and Smith expected me for bowling. Did I have the balls for all of these commitments? Let the story roll, and hopefully I won't end up in the gutter... * * * * * * * * * * I'd been taking my vacation days one at a time with no regrets and, uncharacteristically, no complaints from Harriett. Since she'd been traveling so much for work, a vacation for her was staying at home, putting her feet up and sucking down cherry-filled chocolates. Although, lately she's cut down on sweets, and may have even lost a few pounds. Well, good for her! Vonna's photo shoot was such a single vacation day off, Thursday to be exact. Harriett and her new assistant were expected home late on Saturday, after my scheduled bowling outing with Smith and Jones. I had no extracurricular sexual activities planned during the day for Friday, so I went into work. The other thing that made these days-at-a-time off possible was my demotion. I was handling small-scale tasks, but I wasn't in charge of any "big picture" stuff. So, with no management responsibilities, no coordinating the work of other employees, and no status reporting on my shoulders, I could schedule myself for a day off whenever I liked. No one had taken up my position or moved into my old office, although the reporting and such that I'd left behind seemed to be happening, behind the scenes. And without a manager in place, my former boss Dick Tashun didn't seem to care when I showed up. I got an assortment of greetings - head nods, waves, verbal "hello's and an occasional wink - from co-workers and members of the shrinking secretarial pool. The repurposed swivel chair in my cubicle had seen better days and evidently overweight employees, the way it tilted to the right as I spun to my desk. My physical in-box was cluttered with pass-around copies of tech magazines whose content might as well have been a decade old. By the time the mags were produced and distributed, their content had reached the Internet, been consumed, evaluated, repudiated and forgotten. To save everyone else the trouble, I shucked all of those glossy covered rags into my wastebasket. It was a shock and awe moment when Clyde Hunter's secretary came down the aisle. Clyde was Dick Tashun's boss, a senior vice president and a member of the executive corridor upstairs. I'd forgotten her name, but who could forget that body? I'd been with some beautiful women - models even - but she was something special. The only woman I'd seen recently that came anywhere close was the mystery woman I'd seen in the hallway outside at Underwuud Studios who'd been too friendly with Angie, the owner's daughter and photographer. [AUTHOR: See story THROUGH THE LENS CH. 1] There were always rumors about secret relationships in the office. Tashun dipping his wick in the secretarial pool, for one. Hell, I was the subject of my share. And Tashun had used the rumor he started - that Dora Muniz's baby was mine - to get me demoted, based on his interpretation of the Personnel Policy. Tashun's wife Agatha had promised to help me get my position back, after we shared a prone position on their bed. And, unbeknownst to her, I had their daughter Inez Victoria (Invey) the same morning, and in their bed no less. Hunter's secretary stopped at my desk, her crisp white blouse straining under the pressure of two very pointed breasts. There was no cleavage showing, but my palms sweated nonetheless. "Mr. Marcus. It's very difficult to get hold of you." Vonna didn't seem to have any trouble the previous day while I shot naughty photos of her in various states of undress. Her hands groped my cock frequently, before and during our sexual escapade. "I take a day off now and then, to keep myself sane." "And you don't carry a cell phone either." She leaned over, hands on my desk, and pursed her lips, as if she was preparing to blow me a kiss. "No one needs to get in touch immediately. That's what voicemail and answering machines are for." "Mr. Hunter needed to speak with you, to arrange a meeting. But you're here - today - so I can escort you." She straightened up, shoulders back, tits at attention like torpedoes. "If you're not doing anything more important." More important than getting my old job back? Why else would Hunter want to see me? Had Tashun's wife come through after all? "Lead the way." We walked the corridor two abreast, although her two breasts were the distraction of every male and some of the females who passed us going the other way. A elevator was available for our short ride up to the executive suite and Hunter's office. I thought small talk was in order. "So, how is it, working for Mr. Hunter?" She stood facing forward, her profile astonishing from her neck to her waist. It was a miracle she didn't poke someone's eye out. "He's extremely dedicated to the success of his employees. Did you know that he takes one individual under his wing each year, for special treatment." She smiled. It didn't need to be spoken. She was his 'special employee of the year.' Under his wing? Into his bed, more likely. "And what happens after the year is over?" "Well, most of his assistants go back to school, either for their bachelors or advanced degrees. In my case, I've taken a series of night classes and Mr. Hunter coached my personal development. I've applied for law school. Mr. Hunter says he's creating the next generation of employees for the company." Either 'night classes' and "personal development' were sexual euphemisms, or good old Hunter was a died in the wool good guy, helping his direct reports succeed in life and in business. Wow! My respect for the old guy went up 1000%. We got out on our floor. I followed her to the left. We passed a few scattered private secretarial cubicles. In an otherwise vacant stretch of dark wood walls, she pulled a door open, grabbed my tie and pulled me after her. What the heck? We were in some kind of supplies room, with shelves of paper, binders, all of that officey stuff. Her eyes darted from side to side, as if she expected we were under surveillance. Quite possible, since paperclip theft is the number one cause of missed earnings at our firm. "I want to give you a heads-up, before you go in." Too bad it wasn't giving me head, although the room was too narrow for her to kneel down. The width of the room put us very close together. Had we been naked, my cock would have been toying with her pubic mound. As it was, if we both inhaled, our chests would touch. "Mr. Tashun has been in Mr. Hunter's office for almost an hour. Your name keeps coming up." "What are they saying?" And why did she think we needed this heart to heart, or chest-to-chest, chat? "I had to be discreet, so I don't know the details. But Mr. Hunter raised his voice a few times, and that means trouble. Maybe it was the phone call." "Trouble for who? Tashun? Me? What phone call?" I wasn't getting a heads-up. I was getting a headache. "Why are you taking this risk?" "Probably Tashun. Maybe Tashun." She gave me an apologetic look. "Listen, I used to work in the pool downstairs with Dora. We've stayed in touch, after my promotion and even since she's been on maternity leave. She told me how much you helped her, like Mr. Hunter has done for me. Believed in her when she didn't believe in herself. Trusted her. Gave her self-confidence. I thought that maybe if you knew, you'd be better prepared for the meeting." She hadn't told me squat, although being confined with her was good for a mental fantasy I'd be able to use later. "Thanks, uh-" "Lorraine. Lorraine Ryder." I remembered the name. Hold on! This was Lorraine from the secretarial pool? The mousy flat-chested brunette who was afraid of her own shadow and dressed like someone's grandmother? Nooo. Couldn't be. "You've certainly gotten your game together. A lawyer, huh?" "Yes. It's always been a dream." She glanced at her watch. "We'd better go. Mr. Hunter is waiting." One of us had to move first or we'd have front-to-front bodily contact, and then Lorraine would know she'd given me an erection. "After you." I raised my arm, as if I was a gentleman. So Lorraine moved - forward, leaning against me. Her pointy tits drilled my chest. Her hand went to my crotch. Shit, the gig was up, and so was my cock. Her fingers traced the length. "Dora also said you were the best lay she'd ever had. And I can see why." She smiled, turned and exited the storage closet. I adjusted my prick in my pants and followed, although walking behind that swaying, perhaps surgically enhanced, ass did nothing to reduce the bulge. Lorraine handed me a leather folio, which I held in front to conceal my condition. "Keep your mouth shut. Hunter likes to hear his own voice." Loretta whispered just before I stepped into her boss's office. The room was just what I expected. A huge desk, two visitor chairs facing, and a sitting area in the back, with a sofa, a comfy chair and a coffee table filled with those same obsolete tech magazines. Hunter sat behind the huge mahogany desk, the fancy kind with curvy carvings along the top edges and sides. Tashun occupied one of two leather guest chairs. "Well, there he is. Good to see you again, Marcus. Have a seat. You know Dick, of course." Hunter and I had never met before, but one does not correct a senior vice president. "Good to see you too, sir. Again. Hi Dick." I sat down and put the closed folio in my lap. Hunter leaned back in his oversized executive chair. "Dick and I here have been chatting about the status of projects in his department. You up to speed?" "No sir. I don't have that kind of responsibility any more." Shit. Keep your answers short, Lorraine had told me. "Why, that's right. You're no longer a director. Dick, tell me again why Marcus here doesn't have that position." Tashun pulled at his collar. This probably wasn't the first time he'd explained my demotion to Hunter. "Mr. Marcus violated company policy on fraternization, impregnating a co-worker while on a business trip. That was sufficient cause for-" Hunter interrupted. "Did she file a complaint?" "Excuse me?" asked Tashun. "I said, did the female in question - it must have been a female if she got pregnant - did she complain? To you, or anybody else? Officially or unofficially?" Tashun glared at me. "Uh, no. She didn't." "And to be sure of your accusation, you asked her to agree to a paternity test, to confirm that Marcus here is the father. You did ask, didn't you?" "Yes." Tashun was trying to avoid Hunter's stare. "And what were the results?" Hunter tapped a pencil on the leather-framed blotter. "She, uh, she refused the procedure. She said that she and her husband were trying for a baby, even using drugs to promote conception, and that as far as she was concerned, her husband was the father." "So let me get this straight." Hunter glanced at me, and then returned his steely stare towards Tashun. "The female in question, Dora Muniz if I'm not mistaken, got pregnant, made no complaint against Marcus here, told you her husband is the father, and you demoted Marcus anyway. Do I have my facts straight?" "Yes, almost. Ms. Muniz never denied having sex with Marcus." Tashun gripped the arms of his chair, almost lifting himself out of it. "And there was-" "No cause. There were no facts, just supposition." Hunter turned to me. "You see, Marcus, I got an anonymous call. Female, if Lorraine is any judge. Suggested I look into Dick's personnel decisions, the recent ones. Now, normally, I'd just blow off something like that. Some crank trying to make trouble. Maybe even a lady friend of yours. Thing is, projects in Dick here's department are slipping. Blowing dates and budgets. That didn't use to happen. Not when you were running things down there." "No, sir." I was tempted to tell him that I hadn't been running things as a director, merely in charge of a few specific projects. But why spoil his view that I made things work better? "So, I checked with Personnel. Here's their incident file." He held up a manila folder. One sheet of paper fell out. "They never got the corroborating evidence that supported your demotion. Dick here told them, 'It's coming' but it never showed up. It never will, will it, Dick?" Tashun shook his head. "Good, thanks for some belated honesty. Really, Dick, I don't know sometimes. So, now I've got to clean up your mess. And I figure, why screw around with a good thing? Projects got done on time when you were managing them, and they aren't now, so I think you ought to go back to your old position. What do you think about that?" "I like that just fine." I tried not to smile too broadly. "And for your trouble, we'll add in a small bump to your check, to make things right. Not your fault you took a temporary pay cut." It was only temporary because Hunter was reinstating me. "Thank you, sir." I hesitated, but couldn't keep my mouth shut. "And my annual bonus?" Hunter frowned. Had I asked for too much? "Sorry, but those books are closed. Nothing left to allocate." Tashun snorted, and both of us saw a smirk grow on his face. Hunter scratched his chin. "But good old Dick here, as a Division Manager, he gets quarterly bonuses. So, next quarter, if his group is doing good - and I expect it will - I'll give you his bonus. How's that?" Tashun stood up, trying to stand up to his boss. "Clyde, that's not fair." "Life's not fair, Dick. What was done - by you - to Marcus here wasn't fair. I'm just making it fairer. Marcus, you can go. You probably need some time to move back into your office. I'll have Lorraine send out a company email, announcing the organization change. And, I'll have her put the bonus redirection in the tickler file, so I don't forget. Congratulations, and remember, I'm counting on you." He stood and extended his hand, and I shook it with subdued vigor and a firm grip. I avoided eye contact with Tashun, who'd plopped back into his chair. I walked out and winked at Lorraine. Maybe after she took some law classes, she'd be willing to give me some professional advice, like how to get into her panties. I mulled my situation in the elevator ride down to worker-bee level. I was delighted that I'd gotten my old job back, with a bigger salary to boot. But that meant the end of my scattered vacation days. Tashun, and now Hunter, would be on my case, looking for results, results I couldn't achieve if I was bopping off on a whim. How many projects had fallen into disrepair since my demotion? And how many of them would be assigned to me? A cold chill ran down my spine. It would be just like Tashun to dump all of the bad ones in my lap, even without the revenge he'd want from losing his next quarter's bonus. Things were going to be even tenser than before. And what if Tashun's wife Aggie wanted a stiff reward for getting me reinstated? I assumed the female caller was Aggie, or maybe she put daughter Invey up to the deed. Ironic that their call took money out of their family income. I spent the rest of the day reviewing project plans and status reports. Whoever, with the initials JD, had been coordinating most of the projects had deferred everything to vendors. That's a bad mistake. Their motivation is how much they sell, not how well things work when they walk out the door. You get hardware and software from them, but no accountability. And with mixed vendors, you get chaos. My head was pretty fried by the time I got home. I decided that I'd treat myself to a pizza and another look at Nashta, the delivery girl from A Hot Piece. Maybe this time we could have a conversation before she ran away from me. On the phone, the owner was his same, friendly self, almost barking at me. I cleaned up and chose a nice polo shirt and slacks from my closet. Sure enough, the doorbell announced her arrival. I opened the door with a friendly smile, a smile that melted when a pimply boy greeted me. "Your delivery from A Hot Piece?" "Oh yeah, sure." I handed him the cash intended for Nashta. "Where's the girl-" "Nash? She's got the night off. Tell me, why does everybody on this route ask me the same thing?" He must have meant it as a rhetorical question because he didn't wait for an answer, shook his head and jogged back to his car, without even a 'Thanks' for the tip, one he didn't deserve. So much for engaging that mysterious and exotic young lady in conversation on my doorstep. I flipped the box open. The surface of the pizza reminded me of the pimply delivery boy's face. I lost my appetite. The doorbell rang. What was it, didn't I give the kid enough money? There should have been plenty. Instead, Clara stood at my door. "Did you forget our appointment?" Shit! In exchange for Uncle Viktor's photography lessons, I'd promised to fuck her visiting niece. Well, not in so many words. Clara would have said, 'Provide my niece with an extension of her sexual education.' Which in the past boiled down to the same thing: cock in cunt. The only issue was, how would the cajoling be performed? It wasn't like these young ladies came to visit their Aunt Clara, expecting to get laid, probably just the opposite. "Nope. I'm all cleaned up, ready to meet her." I locked up the house. It was best to get my obligation to Clara cared for, because the next day was bowling and Harriett's return. It would be difficult if not impossible to get naked with one of Clara's relatives with Harriett around. Oh, and I couldn't forget about her British assistant. "We'll need to take our time with this one." Clara spoke almost in a whisper as we crossed the street to her house, formerly the Cocksworth's. "She opted out of sex education at her school, despite her parent's urging." "Can a kid do that? Refuse to take a class?" "Evidently, they have a very liberal policy that gives students a lot of freedom." "But with freedom comes responsibility! How does she think she'll survive out in the real world-" "You're preaching to the choir. That's why you're here, remember? To give her a better perspective on sex. She confided in me that she had a recent trauma, but didn't spill the details. Perhaps you can get it out of her. And, if in the process, you have the opportunity to get it in-" "Yes, yes, I have the freedom and responsibility to take advantage of the situation." "Well put." Clara opened the front door, unlocked. The first time I assisted Clara, with her niece Reid, I was manipulated into fucking her. It didn't start out that way, but that's how it climaxed. I expected Clara would act the same way, as the coach. I was just a prop, a tool. The Clara Chronicles Ch. 02 Clara turned as we walked into the house. "Her name is Rosemarie, Rose for short." Clara's furniture had antique written all over every piece. Or, they had been gathered at random from second-hand stores. Either way, the pieces were a jumble of styles, wood finishes and fabric patterns. Rose sat, back straight, on the paisley sofa. She was as pretty as the flower she was named for, unblemished skin, pointed chin, in a long solid blue dress that hid her legs. Despite the full-length frock, her thin build and small breasts were obvious. She seemed so young. I held out my arm. "Hello, Rose, I'm -" "Doctor Marcus," blurted Clara. "He lives across the street. I asked him over because I'm worried about you." "Not that again. Did my parents put you up to this?" Rose folded her arms across her insubstantial chest. "Up to what? You told me yourself you're having some mysterious health issues. What kind of aunt would I be if I didn't do something? Don't you agree, Doctor?" "One shouldn't dismiss early warning signs." I wagged a finger at the lovely young lady. Now I was supposed to come up with something relevant to say that eventually would get Rose's clothes off. "You don't look so good." "Thanks a lot." Clara shot me a disapproving glance. Bad line. I wasn't in the mood for this. My mind was still processing all of those contracts, status reports and schedules. I tried to redeem myself. "Don't get me wrong. You're quite pretty. I meant, your face is quite pale. Do you get any exercise?" "I run, almost every day." "I can't believe it. There's almost no color in your face." It turned from beige to red, as she got angry. "I do so. Tell him, Auntie." I remained in role. "There's an easy way to verify your claim. Lift your dress and I'll examine you. That will provide incontrovertible proof." Another lame line, but one that would expose at least a portion of her anatomy. Rose stayed seated, and clamped her legs even tighter, if that was possible. "I will not." "Just past your knees. Nothing obscene, I assure you. Just to check muscle tone. That will tell me if you're a runner or not." Rose looked at Clara, who nodded. Nice to have an accomplice. Rose stood and slowly raised the bottom her dress. I moved behind her. Her calves were well developed, tapering to her knees. "A bit higher. So I can check your thighs." The dress crept towards her panties. Sure enough, her thigh muscles were also toned. Her legs were sculpted, as nice as the leg model I'd gotten frisky with months before (AUTHOR: See ERIN GO BRALESS). Rose dropped the dress. "See, I told you. I run almost every day, and while I'm here, I want to keep it up. Except I don't know where its safe." "Almost anywhere. We live in a good area. Perhaps I could give you some pointers". Eventually, the pointer in my pants. I described a route that neighbor friends had told me about. "Great. Do you run?" "I'm no jogger and never will be. The run just takes you back to the place you started at. Where's the logic in that?" It didn't sound like something a doctor would say, at least any competent doctor. I no longer anticipated sex with Rose. Maybe not even a goodbye kiss. Clara had gone silent, as if she had no plan to strip her niece of her clothes. So, I retained the active role. "Tell me, do you ever suffer from charley horses?" "What are those?" I'd used an archaic term. "You know, muscle cramps?" "Sometimes, if I don't warm up. But I almost always stretch before I run." "That's a good practice. Show me how you warm up, please." Rose glanced at Clara and me. "I'm not dressed for it." I waved my hand in the direction of the foyer. "So go upstairs and put on your running gear. We'll wait." Rose looked pleadingly at her aunt. "Do I have to?" Clara supported me, despite a quizzical expression. "Do what the doctor says." Rose retreated to the staircase in slow motion, as if she was waiting for Clara to change her mind. Finally, Rose was out of sight. "What's with you?" asked Clara. "Aren't you interested in Rose? She's so pretty and vulnerable." Maybe the vulnerable part was holding me back. "I had a long day. A good day but also a bad one. Too hard to explain." "A man can never be too hard." Clara grabbed at my crotch and pressed my cock with her fingers. I pushed her hand away just in time. Footsteps announced Rose's immanent return to the living room. Rose wore a t-shirt with small furry animals printed on the front and blue nylon shorts that had cuts in the sides. I assembled my doctor's authoritarian tone. "All right. Show us how you warm up." Rose took the position, one leg behind in a lunge, the other bent, head up, back straight. After a moment, she switched legs. Nice ass sticking out. "Stay in the lunge, please. I'm just going to check the muscle tone of your calf." "Must you?" "You don't want to pull something tomorrow, do you?" Like my cock from my pants. "Do you ever get cramps, higher up?" Rose's voice wobbled. "What do you mean?" "Around your stomach. Perhaps a bit lower." My hand glided up from her calf to just above her knee. Rose's face blossomed red again. "Sometimes. Why?" "In some patients, cramps are a symptom of a more serious condition. In one case, a patient's cramps were caused by a small tumor. I just need to feel around a bit." My fingers drifted higher, to the back of her thigh. I put my other hand under her t-shirt on her abdomen, avoiding direct contact with her pubis. Rose was unsteady in the lunge, shifting her weight on the bent leg. It was probably cramping up from being in that position so long. "Must you do this here, right now? I mean, can't I come to your office?" I could easily cum in her orifice. "I've sworn an oath to do no harm. This is strictly with your permission, or I'll just go home-" "I'll be here, to make sure nothing bad happens. Okay?" "Can I come out of the lunge? My legs ache." "Certainly." I removed my hands as she stood up, but replaced the one on her stomach immediately after. "Your stomach muscles are very tight. Are you nervous?" "Uh huh." "Perhaps I can check for tumors and massage you at the same time, to relax you." "No! No massage!" Rose pulled away. My hand remained raised, but now empty. Clara brightened. Had I accidentally hit a topic they'd discussed before? One related to sex? "Tell him what you told me." "Aunt Clara, I told you that was private." "He's a doctor, for god's sake. Who better to tell?" I wasn't going to let this opening disappear. "Does a massage have something to do with the cramps in your private region?" Rose faced the carpet. "Sort of. Maybe. Oh, I don't know!" I lowered my voice to a stage whisper. "Talk to me, Rose." She plopped onto the sofa, fingers woven in her lap. "It was last week. After one of our workouts, Coach Adams told me to stay after and offered me a massage." This was going to be good. Her coach came on to her. "Yes?" "Said the star of the team deserved special treatment. I undressed and laid down on one of the training tables, covered by just a towel. She started at my shoulders-" "She?" I asked. "Uh huh." This was a revelation to Clara, given her wide open mouth and dropped jaw. Looked like Clara and I were getting the sordid details simultaneously. "Go on." "Her fingers felt really good, down my back, across my waist. She even did my butt. But then I got a cramp, and told her so." "Where?" I asked. "Near my groin." "It was in your privates, wasn't it?" "Yes. She told me to roll over and spread my legs, so she could see the problem." The coach just wanted a close up view of Rose's pussy. Hell, now so did I. "She leaned in real close, and spread me open. Then she put her face against me and started licking-" "And you didn't expect that, not during a massage. How did it feel?" "I was shocked at first. NO one had ever done anything like that to me before. But then, I don't know, I got this rush, like the adrenaline during a race. It started to feel really good. I just about smothered her, pushing her face tight against my coochie. Was that wrong?" Clara was practically drooling. "Not if you wanted it. Can you show the doctor what happened? I'm sure he'd be glad to play the role of your coach." "Oh no. No offense, but he's a man." "So you'd prefer if your aunt, uh, went down on you?" I asked. Rose glanced at Clara. "Is that what its called? Would you?" Rose looked at me. "And you'll leave, right?" Clara was practically smacking her lips. "No, Doctor Marcus should stay." "Think of this as oral therapy. Why don't you lay here, on the dining room table?" I cleared off the bowl of wax fruit. There was a perpetually stiff banana that I thought might come in handy later, if Clara's tongue got tired and I couldn't get it up. No chance of that. Rose used a chair to mount the table, and then hesitantly slid off her jogging shorts and panties. When she spread her legs, Clara rushed between her niece's thighs, almost a pounce. I was worried that she'd scare Rose, but Rose lay still, waiting for her aunt's tongue attention. Clara's lips were puckered for a vaginal kiss before she got anywhere close to Rose's pussy. Rose's moans and Clara's tongue threshing got me really excited despite a feeling of being excluded. I knew that Clara had targeted her niece's lit when Rose's hips came off the table. "Oh God! What did she do?" "There are some particularly sensitive areas-" "You're telling me!" Rose rubbed her aunt's head, keeping her engaged. This was completely unnecessary, since Clara showed no sign of letting up. "Are you more relaxed?" Rose was ranting, writhing. "Kind of, but more excited too. But I still feel a cramp, a tightening, you know-" "In your vagina?" Rose strained and nodded quickly. "I need to check your, what did you call it, your cootie. I'll be gentle." I moved my hand up towards Rose's vagina, trying to avoid Clara's mouth. She moved slightly, giving me shared access. I probed Rose's vagina with my index finger. Now, I've felt a lot of different pussies, with varying degrees of tightness. But in Rose's case, it was like my finger was probing between two wooden boards that had been nailed together. Intellectually, I knew Rose had a pussy but my finger seemed to drilling a new hole where none had existed before. Rose would make one exceptionally tight fuck, "Mmm. Your vagina is completely tense." My finger was only halfway in. I wiggled it just a bit, to test the flexibility of her vaginal walls. Rose's belly jerked upwards. "Oh God!" Either her cunt was sensitive or Clara had scored another direct hit on Rose's lit. "All of the tension that's creating your cramps is located here. I haven't felt anything unusual." Except a really tight pussy. I pulled my hand free. Clara came up for a breath. Pussy juice dripped around her lips. "Maybe you need to probe deeper?" Clara dove back in, licking and sucking audibly while reaching back and fumbling with my belt buckle. She wanted me to drop my drawers. "Deeper?" Rose was panting, her small chest heaving. "Uh huh." I wanted to get this over with. Just fuck Rose and go home and sleep. All of the project stuff swirled in my brain. Why did Clara and I have to go through this elaborate charade just so I could give Rose a stiff eight-inch education? Clara stepped back and wiped her mouth on the back of her hand. Rose's pussy was wet and her labia were spread, a warm portal for my prick. I stepped forward and made first contact. Damn, I wonder if Rose is a virgin, and this really is first contact? Rose raised her head. "What are you doing?" "Preparing to probe." The head of my cock nestled between the bloated cunt lips. Her eyes went wide. "With your penis? No way!" "It's for your own good. I'll be able to detect-" "I said no!" She kicked her leg over my head, rolled off the table and ran for the safety of the second floor. Her ass barely jiggled. I stood there, pants around my ankles, penis at attention. "I'll go up and talk to her," said Clara. "Never mind. I won't be a party to rape. Consensual only." Besides, I was mentally exhausted. Clara came along side and palmed my cock. "You have plans for that thing?" My prick pulsed at her touch. "It's so fat. Shame to waste it." Clara fell to her knees and put her vagina-moistened lips around the head. "Hmmm." The hum was unbearable. I drove my hips forward as Clara licked my cock. When she fondled my scrotum, I shot my load. Clara gargled my cum, then swallowed and exhaled an "Ahhhh." I tucked my defaulted penis into my jockeys and pulled up my pants. "We tried." Clara stood up and straightened her dress. "I'll convince her to see you and continue the examination-" I'd gone soft, and was sure that even the promise of a tight pussy like Rose's wouldn't get me hard again. At least, not that night. "I don't expect it'll do any good. For whatever reason, she's prick shy. And Harriett is back tomorrow. It'll be even harder to get away-" "It's even harder right now." She gave my cock a few short strokes. Damn, I was erect again. How did that happen? "If you need another release, we can sneak off to the basement. I've got an old sofa down there, left over from the previous owner." Ah yes, the couch I'd fucked the Cockworth girls on. "No thanks." I repositioned my penis into my pants. "Maybe some other time. Tell Rose I meant no harm." Clara escorted me to the front door and gave me a kiss on the cheek. After she closed the door behind me, I paused outside on Clara's porch. At least I'd paid my debt. Instead of merely a voyeur, Clara got frisky with me herself. And, she couldn't hold me responsible for Rose's refusal, could she? When I got home, my stomach growled in protest to no dinner. I snuck a slice of cold pizza from the fridge and munched on it as I walked upstairs to get my last good night of sleep before the Harriett and British invasion. *** (to be continued) ### An Original H M Tale I'm always interested in reader feedback, because that's the only way I know you've read my stories. Did the story turn out the way you expected? What do you think of Clara and the way she treats Mr. Marcus? What would you like to have happen next? Send me an email. Copyright (c) 2010, HarveyMarcus. All Rights Reserved.