Those Autofellatio Blues Ch. 13

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AUTHOR’S NOTE-To my loyal readers, I apologize for not posting a story for 3 months. I’ve been busy and…ah, you don’t want to hear the sordid details of my horrible life, you want to know when I’ll be posting again! I’ll be submitting the conclusion to this chapter in the next few days (I promise) and then another full chapter very soon. Thank you for your patience, and please let me know if you like this latest tawdry episode.

* * *

I thought that the day after my meeting with Bridget’s father would be a relative cakewalk. True, Bridget herself was pretty pissed at me because she thought I was still interested in fucking her mother, which I wasn’t. But when you compare that to sucking myself off for her father’s entertainment, which is what happened the day before, dealing with a ticked-off female should be no big deal.

So when the phone rang while I was disposing of my morning cereal I didn’t think much of it. Mom answered it and I kept my mind on my Cheerios. That is, until she said, “Oh, hello Elaine.” I lifted my head, figuring that the sexy older woman on the phone was calling for me. But she wasn’t. Mom listened for a few moments and said, “Oh…really…that’s surprising…really…”

“What?” I asked.

Mom shook her head. She listened a bit more, then said, “He did it too? That’s terrible. I’ll make him apologize and…” Again there was a piece of the conversation I missed. I got to my feet. “What?” I demanded.

Mom covered the receiver and hissed, “It’s none of your business!” She walked out of the kitchen, leaving me standing and straining to hear. Dad came in and said, “What’s for breakfast?”

“Huh? Uh, cereal.”

“Great!” He assembled a bowl, grabbed the sports page, and started chowing down. I went back to my own cereal and waited for Mom to return. It took about five minutes, and when she did, she looked like the cat who swallowed the canary.

Dad said, “Good morning,” without turning around. He was reading about the Pirates’ three-game winning streak when Mom said, “Honey, could I speak to you for a second?”

He looked up. “What? Sure, go ahead.”

Mom smiled. “Alone.”

Dad looked at me, then back to her. “Um, yeah, OK.” He looked as confused as me as he got to his feet and followed Mom out of the room. I got to my feet, about to protest, when Mom said, “Your cereal is getting soggy.”

I sat there eating cereal and not tasting it, wondering what the hell was going on. They were gone for about five minutes, long enough for me to decide that it couldn’t be THAT bad. I mean, I hadn’t done anything horrible lately. Well, that wasn’t true. The other day, while having sex with Elaine, I had made the pretty horrible mistake of calling out Bridget’s name when I came. But I thought Elaine had forgiven me for that insult, so…it couldn’t be that.

Whatever it was, when my folks came back to the kitchen my worries kicked it up another notch. Mom wore a smile so smug it made me itch all over, and Dad…Dad looked like he’d just been hit in the forehead with a hammer. His jaw hung loose, his eyes floated aimlessly, when he sat back down he tried eating his cereal with a knife.

“What the hell’s going on?” I asked.

“Nothing,” Mom said.

“Guff,” said Dad.

“Bull. Elaine calls, there’s a secret powwow, and now Dad looks like he saw a ghost.”

“He’s fine,” Mom said.

“Look at him! Are you having a stroke, Dad?”

“Wubble,” he said.

“You’re going to be late for school,” Mom said, her voice light and sweet.

“I’m not going to school until you tell me what’s going on.”

“Guhhhh,” guhhed Dad.

Try as I might, I didn’t get any more info out of them before I left. I thought long and hard about ditching school and driving straight to Elaine’s to demand an explanation, but if she refused to talk, or even answer the door, what then? I was so preoccupied with this new threat to my equanimity that I forgot all about the other dark cloud on my horizon, a certain blonde goddess who intercepted me on the way to the cafeteria.

“I need to talk to you,” she said, catching me totally off guard. I was expecting kicking and scratching, not a powwow. I went through the lunch line and gathered my nuts and berries and sat down across from her in the little booth I was coming to think of as our own. “I did something terrible last night,” she said.

I thought she was referring to the little scene outside my house, when she accused me of still wanting to fuck her mother, so I said, magnanimously, “No, it was no big deal, really. I can understand you being a bit jealous, I mean, Julia is…”

She slammed her palm on the table and leaned forward. “It’s not that, you asshole,” she hissed. “I meant every word of that. But after I left I went over to Elaine’s. I wanted to, um, I wanted to talk to her.”

“Talk,” I said sarcastically. “Sure.”

“Shut up. Like you’re Mr. Self-Control.”

Touché. “What happened?”

She leaned back, and when she did, I could see the points of her nipples standing out görükle escort against her pale yellow blouse. “We…we were making love, and I did something I shouldn’t have.”


She reached over, grabbed my milk, and took a sip. “I was lying on the bed, my legs spread, and Elaine was going down on me. She was licking me and sucking on me but she wouldn’t make me come. She said she wanted me to relax, so she just nibbled at me, these little teasing licks.”

I took the milk and gulped. “Go on.”

“She rolled me over and made me go on all fours and slid underneath me and licked me that way. I begged her to 69 with me but she said she wanted to concentrate on how good I tasted.”

I took another swallow of milk and Bridget snatched the carton out of my hand and took a swig herself. “What happened then?” I said, breathless.

She closed her eyes. “She made me turn over on my back again and while I did that I guess she picked up a dildo she’d put on the floor and she slid it inside my pussy. She slid it all the way in and then she switched it on and it started vibrating, I mean I think my ears were wiggling. And she started sucking on me and sliding the dildo out of me and I came.”

I tilted the milk carton high but nothing came out of it. “I need more milk,” I gasped.

“Get some. Hurry.”

I started to get up, then sat back down. “I can’t.”

“Why not.”

“I’ll break my zipper if I get up now.”

She nodded sympathetically. “I understand.”

But I didn’t. “What’s the big deal? You went to Elaine’s, you fooled around, she made you climb the walls. That’s what Elaine does.”

She shook her head. “It’s not what Elaine did. It’s what I did.”

“What did you do?”

She looked so embarrassed, so utterly mortified. “When I came, I started moaning, I mean she had me screaming, grabbing handfuls of the sheets, I almost slid off the bed because my hips were going all over the place.”

My hands were trembling, along with something else that was wiggling pretty good. “Go on,” I rasped.

“I came, and it was so good, it felt so fucking good between my legs, her tongue was all over me, that fucking vibrator was buried deep inside me…and then, right in the middle of it, when Elaine was giving me the most incredible orgasm, I called out someone else’s name.”

I couldn’t believe it, but, then again, of course I could, because I’d done the same thing myself. Elaine had made me come and I’d screamed out Bridget’s name. So…”Who’s name did you say?”

“That isn’t important!” she snapped. “The thing is, I really hurt Elaine. She was really upset.”

I realized that Elaine hadn’t told Bridget that I’d done the same thing. And, with a flutter of joy, I had an idea about whose name she’d screamed. “Who’s name, Bridget?”

“I’m not going to say, because it’s none of your business. The important thing is that I hurt Elaine’s feelings, and I don’t know what to do about it.”


“I did, a hundred times! I was in tears when I left. Elaine just kept saying, ‘It’s all right’ in this monotone that made me feel even worse. I don’t know what to do.”

“I think before I can really set my mind to this problem I need to know who’s name you called out,” I said gravely. “It’s a distraction, and I need to focus my full attention on the problem. So, tell me.”

“You’re such a jerk.”

“Not at all. It’s important that I have all the facts.”

Bridget had perhaps the prettiest face on the East Coast, but it wasn’t a good poker face. In the sparkle of her eyes, the downturn of her lips, the flaring of her nostrils, I could tell that I’d called her bluff, and that she was about to tell me the truth about what happened.

Those deep blue eyes rose to meet mine, she parted her lips, and she said, “Your mother’s name. I called out “Linda, Linda.”

Maybe I shouldn’t play poker for a living either, because I nearly burst into tears. My lips actually trembled as I said, “My mother?” I almost said, “Don’t you mean me?”, but fortunately a few of my brain cells were still functioning.

Bridget nodded. “I have a terrible crush on your mother. I know, it’s sick, and it’s wrong. I hate her because of this hold she has over my mommy, but maybe that’s why I’m so infatuated with her, I want to be dominated in the same way.”

“You have a crush on my mom.”


“My mother. Mom. My mom. My mother is the one you have a crush on.”

She couldn’t meet my eyes. “Yes.”

I got up and bought three cartons of milk. No trouble walking now, that’s for sure. I came back and handed her one and drank my first in three gulps. Now, I of course knew that Bridget had far more than a crush on my mother, having been under my parents’ bed while Mom and Bridget went at each other with lips and tongues and dildos for the better part of an hour. But I thought that was just sex. Incredibly twisted and potentially disastrous sex, but still, just a fuck. All along I thought Bridget, maybe, was really starting to like bursa escort bayan me, and hearing about this turn of events had crushed my self-esteem as thoroughly as I crushed my empty milk carton.

“So now you know,” Bridget said. “I hope you’re not too freaked out about it.”


“I mean, you’ve actually fucked my mother, so telling you this shouldn’t be that big a deal.”

So she was going to keep hiding the fact that she too had crossed that line. Fine. If we were keeping secrets, I was going to play my cards close to the vest too. I decided not to tell Bridget about my own little faux pas, nor about the phone call we’d received this morning. “Tell you what. I’ll go over Elaine’s tonight and talk to her, tell her how horrible you feel about it. You know Elaine, she’s an angel, she won’t stay mad for long if you’re really sorry.”

“Maybe, I hope not. But I don’t think going over there and fucking her is going to help, not even with your cock.”

“I’m not going there to fuck her into forgiving you,” I said, offended. “I’m going there as someone who cares about her very much. I’ll talk to her.”

She put her elbows on the table and nodded. “Thank you. It would mean a lot to me.”

And even though I hated her right now, hated her because she didn’t love me, it gave me a thrill to hear her say that, to hear her say that I could do her a service that she would appreciate. Around 7th period, when the thrill wore off, a wave of revulsion and disgust came over me, and about me. I was so degraded and pathetic that I would still jump through hoops to win her approval, this girl who was so far out of my league I had no business even dreaming about her.

When the final bell rang and I walked toward my car I didn’t notice the person who strode up beside me. “The bandages come off Friday, fuckhead.”

“Huh?” I said, my eyes still on the pavement.

“Once I get the all-clear from my doctor, you’re dead.”

It was, once again, Michael Panucci, erstwhile Big Man on Campus who sported a broken nose thanks to me. Ever since the day when I’d landed that one perfect punch he’d threatened me almost daily, but because his nose was still at risk he was forced to hold off. I don’t think he wanted to go to prom looking like Rocky Balboa after the first fight with Apollo Creed. So I didn’t pay much attention to him, knowing that I was still safe. “Yeah, Mike, Friday. I’ll be sure to order a coffin.”

“That’s right, pussy. I’m gonna make you my girlfriend.”

I stopped. “Wait, you still don’t have a date for the prom?” I said, pretty loud.

I surprised him. “What? Yeah I have a fucking…”

“Do you want to go with me?” I said, still loudly. “I mean, it’s a bit sudden, and I’m flattered…OK!”


“I’ll tell Bridget our date’s off, and you and me will go together.”

“You sick faggot piece of…”

“I’m wearing a black tux, so you should wear white. I guess I should pick you up, right? I guess that’s how it works…”

Quite a few people were watching, and Panucci, to his credit, was tired of playing the straight man. He just turned and walked away. “Friday, man. Friday you’d better watch out.”

Tormenting Panucci usually made me feel great, but by the time I pulled out of the parking lot the thrill was gone. I drove home feeling blue, with a black cloud hanging over me, and green with envy because Bridget liked Mom more than me. As you can tell, I wasn’t thinking clearly. I got home and called out, “I have homework, I’ll be up in my room!” I didn’t want to talk to Mom, not right now.

And Mom didn’t want to talk to me, either, because I got no reply. “Hello!” I called out. Nothing. I did a quick reconnoiter and found the house empty. It wasn’t unusual for Mom to be out this late. It was unusual, however, to find a note on the kitchen table. Especially a note that read, “Be at Elaine’s by 4PM. Shower first. Mom.”

“Oh, boy,” I breathed. This couldn’t be good. This could only be very, very bad. The planets aligned and heralded disaster. My mistake at Elaine’s, Bridget’s boo-boo, the phone call this morning, this note…not good, Danny boy. Not good.

I obeyed. Resistance was futile. I stripped and showered, paying careful and close attention to my asshole which, I feared, was soon to get a stern workout. I didn’t know what was in store, and I found that the less I thought about it, the better I was able to function.

I pulled into Elaine’s driveway and found it empty, no other cars waiting. Which, to my paranoid mind, screamed out “Ambush!”. I got out and was halfway up the walkway when another car pulled in. Bridget’s. She got out and said, “I guess you got a note too.”


“Danny, I’m afraid.”

“YOU’RE afraid? How do you think I feel? I’m the one who’s been chained and exhibited and butt-fucked.”

She sure looked scared. “Let’s just go. You and me, let’s go somewhere until dark and pretend nothing happened.”

I took her hand, and she let me. “You know that won’t work. Come bursa escort on, I’m sure it won’t be bad at all.” I led her to the door, I rang the bell, and when Elaine answered, wearing a black leather corset, black knee-high boots, black kid-leather gloves that reached to her elbow, a black leather mask, and wielding a black leather whip, I turned to Bridget and said, in a trembling voice, “See, not bad at all.”

“Inside. Now.” Elaine’s voice was soft, calm, terrifying. I’d never seen her like this. She was always so sweet, gentle, teasing, delightful. Now she was flat-out scary. She closed the door and, “Get undressed. In my house you earn the right to wear clothes. Take them off.”

I said, in my best speech-making voice, “Elaine, Bridget would like to apologize for…”

Elaine didn’t raise her voice, but she did raise her whip, and she brought it down across my buttocks. It didn’t hurt, it FUCKING HURT, and I yelped. Her eyes were so calm, so in control, that I immediately pulled off my shirt and kicked off my sandals. Bridget’s frightened eyes looked to mine and I reached to her tummy and yanked her blouse over her head. “Do what she says,” I told her. “Believe me, you don’t want to get hit with that whip.”

Which quickly stung my ass yet again. “Silence,” Elaine said. She wore dark red lipstick, and her full lips curled distastefully as I rubbed my aching cheeks. “No speaking unless I give permission. No crying unless I give permission.” She rubbed my butt with her leather-clad palm. She put those dark lips near my ear. “But you can beg all you want. I look forward to hearing you beg.”

When we were both nude Elaine stepped back to look us over. “Two beautiful young people,” she said. She stepped between us and let her gloved hands roam over our bodies. “Both of you, you’re so beautiful.” She fondled my penis and caressed Bridget’s nipples. We both became erect. “But,” Elaine said, tweaking the heavy purple head crowning my glory, “you’re both so undisciplined.” She drew her hands away and stood before us at rigid attention, her creamy breasts thrust out. “Today, I will teach you discipline.”

She marched us upstairs. Bridget was in front of me, and my erection rubbed against the soft moons of her derriere. I couldn’t help it, because Elaine was right behind me, and the hard butt-end of her whip was, well, right behind my behind. It probed at me and since I didn’t want to be invaded that way I hustled Bridget up the stairs. The powdery friction of her cheeks against my helmet made me ooze a bit, and I left a small shiny patch of my liquids on her skin. What I would give to see Bridget bathed in sweat, sweat generated from out lovemaking, and my semen splashed across her belly, or her face, and my own face smeared with the juices loosed by her own arousal. As Elaine gave me the business end of her whip again, I guessed that my dream wasn’t going to come true today. Though a few nightmares might be in the offing.

Elaine took us to her “fun room”, the S&M paradise she and her late husband built to indulge their more intense fantasies. The room was dominated by a king-sized bed bracketed with metal poles, perfect for chaining and cuffing your victims. The winch at the head of the bed, which Elaine had used to fold me into the proper position for sucking my own cock, was, I saw, fully retracted. I hoped that meant I wouldn’t be asked to perform again, which would come as a great relief.

But if the winch wasn’t on the agenda, a thick black curtain stretched across the middle of the bed probably was. I’d never seen Elaine use a screen like this before. It cut the bed in half lengthwise, and my imagination made a few quick leaps forward. If a person was lying on the bed, and the curtain pulled across, the person wouldn’t be able to see what was happening to the lower half of his/her body. The fun part. I looked at Bridget, and from her expression I could tell she hadn’t figured it out yet.

“Lie on the bed, side by side,” Elaine commanded. Bridget immediately obeyed, but when I said, “Wait,” I got a smack on the ass. I leapt on the bed and lay down, the black satin sheets rustling luxuriously under me. OK, I’d go with the flow like Bridget, and trust that Elaine wouldn’t really torture us, that this was some kind of exciting ruse.

I stayed with that plan right up to the point where Elaine put the leather dog collar around Bridget’s neck and chained her to the wall.

I leapt up-well, I tried to leap, but the slick satin sheets were practically frictionless and there was some flopping and flailing before I got the floor under my feet. “No way,” I yelled. “No way you’re chaining me up like a dog.”

“Daniel,” Elaine snapped. “Lie down.”




Elaine walked slowly around the bed, and I backed toward the door. “Daniel,” Elaine said quietly, “if you leave, I’ll do to Bridget everything I’m going to do to you. Can you stand the thought that she’s suffering through the agony meant for you?”

If this was a poker game, I would have called this a stone bluff. No way Elaine was going to put Bridget through “agony”. I smirked at Elaine, but it faded when I looked at Bridget and saw that she was absolutely terrified. She really thought Elaine was going to torture her. “Danny, don’t go, please,” she said in a tiny voice.

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