Podcasts about Cunt

Ten years ago, on the fourth episode of the show, I investigated why the C-word is considered a worse swear than the others. Since then - well really just in the last three years or so - there has been a huge development: the word has hit the mainstream as a compliment. Linguists Nicole Holliday and Kelly Elizabeth Wright discuss this use of the word originating in the ballroom culture of New York City in the 1990s, and what it means to turn such a strong swear into praise.Related to this: the Allusionist live show Souvenirs! Which is about, among other things, some of the tech problems today's word causes, and how being one can wreck a friendship and a printing press. See Souvenirs in Toronto 1 June and Montréal 9 June; find ticket links and venue info at theallusionist.org/events.Visit theallusionist.org/serving for a transcript of this episode, plus links to more information about topics in the episode, and the rest of Four Letter Word season.Support the show at theallusionist.org/donate and as well as keeping this independent podcast going, you also get behind-the-scenes glimpses about every episode, fortnightly livestreams with me and my dictionaries, and the Allusioverse Discord community.This episode was produced by me, Helen Zaltzman, on the unceded ancestral and traditional territory of the xʷməθkʷəy̓əm (Musqueam), Sḵwx̱wú7mesh (Squamish), and səlilwətaɬ (Tsleil-Waututh) Nations. The music is by Martin Austwick. Download his songs at palebirdmusic.com and listen to his podcasts Song By Song and Neutrino Watch.Find the Allusionist at youtube.com/allusionistshow, instagram.com/allusionistshow, facebook.com/allusionistshow, @allusionistshow.bsky.social… If I'm there, I'm there as @allusionistshow. Our ad partner is Multitude. If you want me to talk compellingly about your product, sponsor an episode: contact Multitude at multitude.productions/ads. This episode is sponsored by:• Squarespace, your one-stop shop for building and running your online forever home. Go to squarespace.com/allusionist for a free 2-week trial, and get 10 percent off your first purchase of a website or domain with the code allusionist.• Rosetta Stone, immersive and effective language learning. Allusionist listeners get 50% off unlimited access to all 25 language courses, for life: go to rosettastone.com/allusionist.• Home Chef, meal kits that fit your needs. For a limited time, Home Chef is offering Allusionist listeners fifty per cent off and free shipping on your first box, plus free dessert for life, at HomeChef.com/allusionist.• Quince, luxurious clothing and homewares at prices 50-80% lower than comparable brands. Go to Quince.com/allusionist for free shipping on your order and 365-day returns.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

The end of the cruel Peace & the start of the desperate War.Based on ‘One In Ten' by FinalStand, adapted into 17 parts. Listen to the ► Podcast at Explicit Novels.A frightened Mother Mouse will devour her young; similarly, a frightened culture will devour its future.Roni was still working away while the rest of us were in the man-cave once more. Flame seemed happy taking long pulls on the Wild Cherry and smacking her lips. I wasn't surprised she wasn't worrying about Silent. Her wounded comrade was a reliable pair of guns guarding her back and nothing more. Emotional bonds were contrary to her psychopathic nature.Jethro had been sitting on his 'throne' for fifteen minutes, deep in thought."I guess it is about time we got those guns," he announced as he stood up. His words captured everyone's attention yet he didn't appear to care. He started walking from the room and the rest of us followed along. The need for guns had brought us here in the first place.His path led us into his walk-in pantry. One wall of shelves rolled out and to the sides on seamless wheels. Beneath that spot was a steel door, a tad over one meter wide and three meters long. It must have been spring-loaded because once Jethro yanked on the hole that only one finger could fit into, the portal swung open and back.Stairs led down into darkness. Jethro turned around and followed them out of sight for several seconds. Then a light came on. The drop looked to be around four meters. Angel went next. A strange level of respect allowed me to go third. Flame was at my back then Kuiko, Venus and Lavender.The floor was grey-painted concrete. The room stretched out five meters in each direction. 80% of the room was covered with stacked crates with a variety of markings on them, a few even in English. Angel was incredibly tense. I didn't know why, but I had a feel for her moods. The other 20% of the room was an immaculate workbench.Considering Jethro's aversion to cleanliness, this was definitely something noteworthy."What is all this stuff?" Venus asked."Weapons," Angel preempted the old guy."This is an awful lot of weapons," Lavender muttered. No one wanted to say it, so I did."Jethro, you were in the MRA, weren't you?" I tossed out there. I'd told the nation that the MRA was dead and here I was looking at a small armory of illegal weaponry. Jethro had been walking over to the work area. He turned and looked us over."I'm going to do something I don't normally do," Jethro met each of our gazes."I'm going to explain myself. Let's pull some assault rifles out of those crates, make sure they in top shape then go upstairs 'cause I am only going to do this once," he stated."These people don't know how to use firearms," Angel cautioned angrily."They'll never learn if they don't have one and we are approaching the point where we'll need everyone to be a shooter," he countered. "Let's get to it."And that's what we did. These weapons had been top rate stuff at the start of the 21st century. Now, they weren't quite antiques, only old. The basics of using some sort of explosive substance to propel an object at your target remained the same. In the case of firearms, it was remarkably the same, or so Angel said.Kuiko went straight for the Russian-made Surface-to-Air missile, because she thought that the Cyrillic writing looked pretty. It was one of the few exotic devices. Most were clearly Federation military, or Police issue, undoubtedly stolen from some armory at some point early in Jethro's terrorist career.I was irate that Kuiko looked so cute with a bandolier of ammo packs and an automatic shotgun. Angel insisted that only she and Jethro took loaded firearms upstairs. We could carry the gun and the ammo as long as the ammo wasn't in the gun. Venus argued that this defeated the purpose of having the weapon.Angel countered that if she couldn't load it quickly, she probably shouldn't have it in the first place. I caught Flame bagging up a few boxes of ammunition, but Jethro didn't seem to care so I let it slide. It fell to Flame and me to lug extra rifles and cartridge belts up to the rest of the group, being the strongest, Angel was keeping an eye on Jethro and he was keeping an eye on her.Fifteen minutes later, we had gathered back in the spacious dwelling space of our host. Jethro, on his throne, finished off a glass of Wild Cherry and began his tale:"I was seventeen and in high school when the Gender Plague first broke out. I was quarantined for a month before the Supreme Court decided it was illegal and set us men free.I took the opportunity to enlist in the Navy, the U S Navy, because of the man shortage when I was released. Went through Basic, the Specialist School, I was a Damage Control Technician which meant I was a fireman, then a second outbreak happened. I was quarantined for three months this time.I got out and was assigned to the destroyer Michael A. Mansoor. During the Relief of Athens, we all damn near died. Of the eighteen men and women in Damage Control, only me and one other rating enlistee survived. My officer, an ensign, stayed behind to make sure the forward ammunition storage was secure. Our Chief Petty Officer had us seal the ensign in. We saved the ship long enough for the crew to be pulled off.The Mansoor exploded. We were never able to locate her body. She was some R O T C kid who was only with us four months. I never knew her first name until the ceremony after it was all over. She may have been the bravest human being I've ever known. After that, I served aboard the Little Rock working anti-piracy in the Philippines and Indonesia.Since I took part in some land action during that tour, the Navy, I hate using the term Federation, reassigned me to Shore Patrol duty. I took police training and everything. I did another tour aboard the Little Rock the following year then they dragged me off when Congress decided that men couldn't be given combat assignments.Seven months later, they discharged me and thousands of other men as part of a down-sizing program. Unfortunately, the same act of Congress that exited me from the Navy also forbid me joining the fire, or police departments. A buddy of mine was able to find me work in a machine shop where I learned the craft of welding.After that, I was a good boy. I dated, joined a motorcycle club and built up a nice life. When the Gender Inequality Act was passed I was more annoyed than angry. All that changed when I was twenty-nine. See, I had some male friends who joined up with a group called Male Awakening. They were a group devoted to the repeal of the G I A through political means.Things including publically supporting male-friendly candidates and working against G I A-supporters through boycotts and the like. I was rolled up in an FBI sting and those ladies informed me that they'd make those charges go away if I agreed to go inside and spy on Male Awakening. They knew I was friends with those guys. I told them to fuck off, fought the charges and beat their trumped up bullshit.By the time I cleared up my legal troubles, they took the M A down anyway. It seems their Treasurer took off with their funds after leaving some financial irregularities. That was a total load of crap because they never caught that guy, but they did manage to put away most of the group's leadership.A few months later, I ran across one of my buddies who had asked me to join Male Awakening. He'd heard about my troubles and over a few beers, he hinted that the fight wasn't over. This time I bought in. This incarnation didn't have a name. We weren't public. We dug up dirt on corrupt female officials by any means necessary.We destroyed the careers of the worst oppressors of men. Violence wasn't our aim yet we armed ourselves for what we knew would be a harsh crackdown. We operated in small cells, but I knew we had lawyers, judges and even a few Congresswomen on our side. Since we had bracelets by that time, we used women to communicate between cells.Our cell received word of the major Federation sweep, a day before it happened. We were able to move most of our material stashes to new locations before they fell on us. The Writs of Exclusion were abominations. No one ratted me out. For weeks I sweated bullets every time I saw a cop car, a mysterious unmarked car, or heard a siren.After a few months, I began searching for other survivors. We came together in secrecy, united in our fury. The Federation had broken every law and covenant so we agreed that waging a guerilla war was our only option. A week later I bagged my first cop. Put a bullet under her left eye at 80 meters. She was dead before she hit the ground and it felt good.They, the Federation, had murdered my country and now they were paying. Three days later, I waited for a Federation agent to walk out on her porch to see her little girl off to school. I walked up, told the little girl her mother was a whore and put nine slugs into that whore's body and I felt just fine about that too.""No," squeaked Kuiko."That is the way it was," Jethro gave Kuiko a paternal look. "Those women came at me with every dirty trick they could come up with to take away my freedom and I put them in the grave for it.""You murdered people," Angel growled."Fuck you, Cop. The Gender Inequality Act was passed by women to enslave men. No man ever voted on it," Jethro snarled. "Men tried to use the system so you cheated. Boohoo that your bosses didn't figure out our only option left was violent resistance.""I killed seventeen government officials and my only regret is I didn't kill more. Not one was a fair fight. Kuiko, I killed that bitch in front of her daughter because I wanted her buddies to come around and see the anguish on that little girl's face. I wanted them to worry about their own daughters. I wanted them to know they were at war.""You are a murdering scumbag," Roni snapped."I disagree," Flame shook her head. "You are morons if you think he should have called out every freaking target and said 'hey, I know you have all the back-up in the world and I'm alone so I'm giving you ample warning that I'm going to try and kill you.'""You are a psycho," Aniqua pointed out. "It figures you would agree with him.""He didn't have a choice," Samantha intervened. Her speaking so decisively was almost as stunning as her words themselves. "Having a gun might not have saved Israel against the Aurora Slasher, but it might have discouraged those sorority students.""The politics of payback," Flame laughed. "Jethro might sound like some sadistic bastard to the rest of you; not to me. His tactics are sound and they work. Kill enough cops and women stop joining the force. The authorities either crack down harder, bringing more over to your cause, or they concede to some of your demands.""It is how a very small force fights a much larger adversary," Flame concluded."That's still cold blooded murder," Angel reiterated. I didn't know what to think. Jethro butchered defenseless women. The President doomed millions. I admired what Zara did except it was some of the same things that Jethro did, yet she was a soldier and he was a terrorist."There is no resolution to this argument," I spoke clearly and loud. "Short of violence to silence the opposition, there is nothing we can do to rectify the past now. Jethro, why did you stop being a member of the MRA?""Spokane," Jethro answered. "I had no problem with killing cops and Feds, and intimidating their families. They were part of the problem.""Those high school girls though, that made no sense to me. We weren't at war with the female gender; we were at war with the government and their policy of enslavement. Killing random kids was wrong and I wouldn't be associated with it. I talked this over with my cell, they disagreed and I told them that if I saw any of them again, I'd kill them," Jethro clarified."I had several caches only I knew about. I waited a few months then moved up to the city, slowly bringing everything up here as I had the time. A year and a half later, my old buddy was caught up in a traffic stop, shot it out with the cops and was killed. From stuff they found on his body, he rolled up the rest of the gang, but the other members didn't know my real name.""The G E D came out and talked with me. They kept an eye on me for a few years. I behaved and grew old so they eventually went sniffing elsewhere. We wouldn't be here now if I hadn't gone drinking with Kuiko and let slip about my gun stash," Jethro smiled at my little friend. "I knew she'd never betray me, and she hasn't.""Now I've got a front row seat to the End of the World so I get one last chance to make a difference," he said. Yeah, this old guy wanted to go down in a hail of gunfire, no doubt about it."Good for you, you butcher," Roni glared. "I won't do this.""I signed on to make a difference," she continued, "not to hang out with cold-blooded killers. I'm out of here. Is anyone with me?" Aniqua stood up. Venus seriously hesitated before joining them. Venus was looking right at me. Angel's eyes were boring holes into me as well."Israel?" Angel inquired.I could go with them. I could stay. I could beg them to stay. I could stay silent and let events drag me along. My mind was playing Jinga with the vortex of intellectual input and buzz saw emotions that were boiling forth."Angel, Roni, Venus and Aniqua sit back down," I stood and stated. It took them a varying number of seconds to realize I was Not pleading."Israel, you don't get to decide that for us," Roni replied evenly. "We let you go to the Arena last night. This time, we get to choose and we are leaving. If you are the man I hope you are, you will come with us.""At the same time you're pressuring me to give more to the group despite my misgivings, Roni, you are giving less?" I countered. She started to protest. I raised my hand for a reprieve."Hear me out," I continued. "It isn't that simple. I am not questioning your moral quandary about working with people too comfortable with taking human life. It is very real and I feel it. The difference is that you would rather be right and dead than alive at any cost. You've never had to make that call before, but I have and I'm alive to tell you that you are wrong, Roni.""You are dead wrong because dead does nothing. The living can always come back and make something better. Hell, that's what my life has been about the past week and a half. The rest of you are neophytes going into this. I'm not. I know exactly what it takes morally to survive. Don't make me follow any of you out that door. I love each and every one of you.""I do love you, but am I obligated to jump off a cliff for you? I respect your choice to choose suicide. It would be wrong of me to rob you of that freedom. Please don't try to make this about affection, compassion, or loyalty though. It is a matter of life and death. Roni, you are trying to kill me, which I'm okay with. I resent you killing Angel, Aniqua and Venus," I stressed."That's fucked up reasoning," Roni fought back. "Those two get off on killing other people. They enjoy it. Why can't you see that they are just as likely to get you killed as keep you alive?""I will agree with you that Flame gets off on watching people suffer and die," I nodded. "It is the way she is. I don't know Jethro so I'm not ready to make a judgment call on him.""I do know that both of them have exquisite weapon skills and I'm pretty sure we are going to need them before we are truly free," I explained. "I would prefer an all-male super commando squad who had passed every psychological test ever made. That doesn't appear to be on the menu, so I'm willing to hold on to whatever resources are available.""So you are willing to risk all our lives for the sake of expediency," Angel glared."Absolutely," I shot right back. "In case no one is paying attention, I am not in some government facility helping working on some kind of serum to fight the new plague. In case you missed it, everyone here agreed with my decision to flee instead.""Roni, Angel, you do realize that young lady who saved me this morning is going to die, right? I could have insisted she come with us. I could have given her the cure. I didn't. None of you asked me to even after I told the whole globe of an unstoppable wave of death coming for everyone. I'm not asking you to take responsibility for my decision because it was mine.""I'm begging you; understand that it isn't the end of morality to stay. When the madness ends, you need to decide if we will still be worthy of continuing on. You'll no longer be part of that equation if you go now," I declared."Are we supposed to ignore that he was a terrorist and she is a homicidal maniac?" Aniqua said."I'm not homicidal," Flame grinned. "I'm a psychotic sociopath. I don't randomly kill people. I do it with malice of forethought." Jethro didn't show a desire to defend himself."Israel, Flame almost killed you last night," Venus pointed out. "Why would you stick around?"Why was I sticking around?"Israel, don't do this," Angel said. "You promised me you would stop running into danger.""Angel, why do you have to be right and I have to be wrong?" I sighed."Because those two are dangerous criminals," Roni answered. Didn't Roni understand that I was a far more callous killer than either of those 'criminals' and I didn't have to lift a finger, or look at a single grave?(Before the Curtain Call)Shortly after nine-thirty that night, the awaited and feared seismic event happened in China. A few minutes past sunrise over Hong Kong the rains broke and a fleet of helicopters and V T O Ls (Vertical Take-Off and Landing) were heard over the city. Helicopters were not unknown in this center of wealth and commerce. Well over a hundred all coming in at once was noteworthy.For many of the citizens of the city, it had been a restless night. After midnight, police sirens had been wailing all over the city. Some even heard gunfire. What they didn't know was that for the past four hours, private security forces working for the most prominent communities and some special police units had raided the middle class communities of the city and stolen their men.They forced the men into protective suits and hustled them back to the high-rises that sheltered the most 'important' people. This was an outrage that they could not get away with, had China still functioned normally. A new order based on brutal social cannibalism was taking place. The rich were taking their vassals and their new 'acquisitions' to their estates far from the population centers.This was supposed to be a gradual process except late yesterday afternoon the other Great Families learned that one of their own had their first reported case of this new 'flu.' They could wait no longer. They would have preferred to flee under the cover of darkness, but rain and the danger of so many helicopters and V T O Ls moving around forced them to postpone until first light.You didn't have to be a connoisseur of conspiracy theories to figure out what was going on. Men had been stolen and now the rich were bugging out of town in one big hurry. Late Friday, the 'flu' began to appear in the population in a big way. The workers in the hospital were afraid, not fearful, afraid.

We recap the craziest weekend ever with Jack Della Maddalena Pinging the Cunt to become Welterweight Champion of the world.   For our listeners: Varsity Sports Bar! https://www.varsity.com.au   25% off Rusty TradeR work wear use code: TRADERGRINREAPERS at www.rusty.com.au/traderworkwear 25% off New Rusty wetsuits  - use code: GRINREAPERS25 at www.rusty.com.au/wetsuits Rusty Locals Only: https://rusty.com.au/collections/locals-only Use code: REAPERS at https://au.manscaped.com/ for 20% discount Support: https://www.patreon.com/ChrisWhitey https://www.patreon.com/BrianShields Grin Reapers Tshirt: http://www.theoceanpeople.com/product/the-grin-reapers-shirt Other Links:  https://www.instagram.com/chris.whitey https://www.instagram.com/brianshields_ https://www.instagram.com/grin_reapers https://www.facebook.com/GrinReapersMedia/ email: theoceanpeopleorders@gmail.com https://itunes.apple.com/au/podcast/the-grin-reapers-podcast/id1380019049

Welcome to four letter word season! We're kicking off with one of the most versatile words: it can be a noun, verb, punctuation, expostulation, full sentence on its own; it can be an intensifier, an insult and a compliment... and a Category A swear, which is why I've had to sanitise it for the title lest your pod app takes exception. And, of course, content note: this episode contains many category A swears, plus some sexual references. Lexicographer and editor Jesse Sheidlower joins to talk about making four editions (so far) of The F Word, a history and dictionary of the multivalent F word. Find his work at jessesword.com. Find out more about the episode and read the transcript at theallusionist.org/ffff (that's four Fs). Next up in Four Letter Word season: we revisit an even stronger swear. The Allusionist live show Souvenirs is happening in Toronto on 1 June and Montréal 9 June! Get tickets via theallusionist.org/events. To help fund this independent podcast, take yourself to theallusionist.org/donate and become a member of the Allusioverse. You get regular livestreams with me reading from my ever-expanding collection of reference books, inside scoops into the making of this show, and watchalong parties. And best of all, you get to bask in the company of your fellow Allusionauts in our delightful Discord community. This episode was produced by me, Helen Zaltzman, on the unceded ancestral and traditional territory of the xʷməθkʷəy̓əm (Musqueam), Sḵwx̱wú7mesh (Squamish), and səlilwətaɬ (Tsleil-Waututh) Nations, with music composed by Martin Austwick of palebirdmusic.com. Find @allusionistshow on Instagram, Facebook, YouTube and Bluesky. Our ad partner is Multitude. If you want me to talk about your product or thing on the show, sponsor an episode: contact Multitude at multitude.productions/ads. This episode is sponsored by: • Squarespace, your one-stop shop for building and running your online forever home. Go to squarespace.com/allusionist for a free 2-week trial, and get 10 percent off your first purchase of a website or domain with the code allusionist.• Audio Maverick, a 9-part documentary podcast from CUNY TV about radio maven Himan Brown. Hear about the dawn of radio and Brown's remarkable career, via archive footage and new interviews with audio mavericks, by subscribing to Audio Maverick in your podcast app.• Home Chef, meal kits that fit your needs. For a limited time, Home Chef is offering Allusionist listeners eighteen free meals, plus free shipping on your first box, and free dessert for life, at HomeChef.com/allusionist.• Quince, luxurious clothing and homewares at prices 50-80% lower than comparable brands. Go to Quince.com/allusionist for free shipping on your order and 365-day returns.Support the show: http://patreon.com/allusionistSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Send us a textGuitarist Kai Puolakanaho,AKA Ritual Butcherer (Archgoat) visits the Morgue to talk about the history of Finland's Archgoat that dates back over 36 years. Ritual Butcherer gives us a look into the early days of the band, touring, the Temple Of The Blackmoon  and much more.See you at the Morgue! Music:Archgoat- Messiah of Pigs Archgoat- Nuns, Cunts & Darkness Archgoat- Black Messiah Archgoat- Worship the Eternal Darkness Archgoat- Nightside Prayer Original air date: 5/7/25contact: thetampamorgue@gmail.com  The Tampa Morgue Podcast can be found on Spotify, Amazon Music, Apple Music, Apple Podcasts, YouTube and most places you listen to your podcasts. See you at the Morgue!  

How far is too far?In 3 parts, based on a post by ret 123. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. Sylvia's party game was getting steamier than anyone had imagined. It was fantasy baseball in a new definition, and involved stripping, drinking, or sexual interactions. By now most of us were naked or nearly so. The girls were wasted and could not tolerate another drink.To make things more dramatic, the girls offered a wager of $100 each, that the guys would not last.Now another homerun was hit; this time by the Girls' Oakland team. But this required the same coitus regardless of whose team hit the ball. Most of the girls having reached their limit of alcohol, the girls drew names each hoping to negotiate something with the guy whose name she had selected. Donna picked the name of my buddy, Ronny, who was infatuated with her. Diane picked my former roommate, Mark, who was completely wasted. The beautiful, blonde, Angie, picked my name. Sylvia picked my black friend, Tyrone.The room was tense as everyone was waiting to see what the girls would do. Sylvia quickly made a decision. She walked up to Tyrone, gently grabbed the middle of his big cock and led him by the cock to the back bedroom. Everyone hooted and yelled as she took him to the back.Ronny looked so excited I thought he might explode. I assumed that Donna would drink a beer. However, Ronny looked between me and Donna trying to figure out a way to have sex with my gorgeous girlfriend without making me mad. Finally, he said to Donna, "Donna, what if we agreed that I would just feel you up instead of going all of the way?"Donna smiled and turned to look at me, with her back leaning on Ronny's chest. Donna seemed relieved. I looked in her bright blue eyes and said, "It is up to you, baby. I told you that you could play." What the hell is wrong with me!Donna quickly agreed to Ronny's proposal and offered him her naked body. Ronny looked like he had died and gone to heaven. His hands immediately wrapped her from behind  & grabbed both of Donna's big knockers while Donna smiled and looked at me.Angie now approached me. At first, I assumed that a nice girl like Angie would drink. But, she walked up to me, grabbed my hand and started walking toward the bedroom door. I couldn't believe that good-looking Angie wanted to take me to the back and fuck me. Before this party, Angie had a good reputation and was generally thought of as a girl who was either a somewhat prude or a tease. This would have been really hot except I knew Donna was a little jealous of Angie and I didn't want to do anything to upset my girlfriend.I looked at Donna for some guidance. I could always drink a beer to avoid sex with Angie. I was already imagining the shit I was going to get from my friends if I passed up sex with this beautiful blonde. Angie flipped her long blonde hair behind her so that her nice, firm tits were easier for me to see. I wasn't sure what Donna wanted me to do, so I stalled for time by saying to Angie I was willing to negotiate.Angie looked a little surprised that a guy would want to negotiate when she was offering to fuck him. However, she smiled at me and said, "I will get on my knees right here and give you oral sex."I gulped and looked at Donna thinking that she would tell me to drink. Instead, as Ronny fondled both of her tits, she seemed to be absorbed in the process of letting my friend feel her up in public and said, "I told you that you could play, baby."I couldn't believe my luck. My cock was already hard from watching my naked girlfriend get felt up. Now, Angie was dropping to her knees in front of me and started kissing my balls. She looked so sexy. I lusted after Angie for a couple of years before Donna came to campus.I was worried that Donna was still going to get mad at me if I showed too much interest in Angie. Donna was staring at me as she was felt up. Donna's tits were shaking and swaying as Ronny tried to feel every inch of them. I looked at Donna as Angie started licking and kissing the shaft of my cock. I tried my best to focus on and look at Donna, as Angie slid her soft lips over the head of my cock. Soon, Angie was sucking away on my cock. I couldn't believe a nice girl like Angie would suck my cock in front of a crowd. Apparently, the crowd couldn't believe it either because they let loose a long sustained roar.It is hard to believe, but I tried my best to look as if I was not too excited about a girl who looked like a swimsuit model sucking my cock with a crowd of people watching and cheering her on. I tried not to hump her gorgeous face and I tried my best to only look at Donna. Of course, seeing my voluptuous girl being felt up made my cock hard too. I was desperately trying to avoid cumming in Angie's mouth even though she was on her knees doing what I had dreamed of for several years. I somehow managed to hang on until someone called time. Angie, kissed my cock and slowly stood up. She gave me a quick kiss and returned to her teammates.Donna looked extremely horny, but did not seem to be upset with me at all. I was relieved. Her attitude had changed as she got more and more horny, and drunk.I didn't get to watch very much of it, but Diane had offered to let Mark play with her big jugs to avoid having to drink another beer. Mark agreed. He spent some time rubbing Diane's tits. However, a good deal of the time, he put his hands under her heavy tits and flopped them up and down . Diane was completely embarrassed to have her naked tits flopped around in front of a big crowd. She tried to make him stop, but Mark was drunk and thought it was hilarious that Diane was so embarrassed. Finally, she gave up and let him flop her tits around.Sylvia and Tyrone were called out of the bedroom. Sylvia looked disheveled. She also looked a little stunned. I wondered if Sylvia had ever had a cock like Tyrone's before. Tyrone was smiling and laughing. Judging from the size and hardness of his huge black cock, it did not appear that Sylvia was able to make him cum in two minutes. From what I knew about Sylvia, it was not for lack of trying.I saw Sylvia and Diane speak briefly to each other. Then, they called for Donna to join them. They then had what appeared to be a serious conversation or at least as serious a conversation as three young girls can have while standing naked(or almost naked) in a crowded drunken room. Donna looked worried as Sylvia and Diane spoke to her. Several times, she glanced at me as her friend and sister spoke to her.The Commissioner started the video again. After a couple more outs, Kansas City came up to bat again. The Kansas City batter hit a ball so hard, it looked like it might completely leave the ballpark. The guys were all cheering again.Usually, when our team scored, the girls sort of flailed around for a few minutes trying to decide what to do. This time was different. Diane came straight to me with her big jugs swaying, grabbed my hand and headed to the bedroom. I looked at Donna to see what she wanted me to do. She saw me look at her and shouted that she said I could play. I was secretly pretty excited to go to the bedroom with my girlfriend's busty, religious sister.In the bedroom, Diane closed the door and suggested that I lie down on the bed. I laid on the bed on my back with my cock pointing straight up at the ceiling. Diane then straddled my body on the bed. I thought for a moment that the devout girl was going to fuck me. However, what she did was lift her huge watermelon size tits and squeezed them around my hard cock. It felt really good, but looked even better. Her hands couldn't really control her knockers so they were flopping all around my cock. Then, she started titty fucking my cock by pumping it up and down with her big tits. I loved it.As I watched her titty fucking me, I lost my head and said, "Your sister always sucks my cock while she does that."She looked at me and said, "I have never tried that with a man." She looked at the sky for a moment and said, "Lord forgive me." She then looked at me and said, "I will do it with my mouth if you promise not to tell anyone and promise not ejaculate in my mouth."I moaned, "Okay, I will not tell anyone and I will do my best not to cum in your mouth."She seemed to accept this answer and said only, "This is so embarrassing."About that time, a huge roar came from the other room. I remember thinking that something really hot must have been happening. She then repositioned her huge melons around my cock and put the head of my cock in her mouth. Diane then started sucking away on my cock. While admiring her huge rack for about a year, it never occurred to me that she would suck cock. She seemed like such a prude. I was overwhelmed that my cock was now in her religious mouth. Soon she was pumping away on my cock with both her tits and her mouth. She was still wearing her glasses as she bobbed up and down on my hard cock. I thought sure I was going to cum in Diane's mouth, but the thought that Donna might get upset with me made me resist. Before too long, someone called time. I moaned a little when Diane's mouth and big knockers came off of my cock.She said as we got up from the bed, "I thought you were going to ejaculate."When I replied, "Me too!" she playfully hit my arm and reminded me that I had promised not to cum in her mouth.She also said, "I am glad my first time was with you. Thank you."I replied, "No, thank you. You were really good especially for your first time."I hoped she didn't tell her sister what we did.We left the bedroom and returned to our teams. Donna was standing talking to the other girls with her tits shaking like a bowl of Jello. She didn't seem to notice the jiggling.Sylvia restarted the video of the baseball game and Oakland's manager apparently conceded defeat because he replaced his pitcher with a reserve infielder. Without a pitcher on the mound, Kansas City would be able to easily get more hits and home runs.A moan went up from the girls' team. Another home run soon followed.I watched to see if Donna would take a drink, but before she had a chance to decide, Sylvia came over to me, grabbed my hand and headed to the bedroom. I looked at Donna, but she wasn't looking.Sylvia didn't have the tits of Diane and Donna, but she had a sexy slender body that was hot and nice tits if you aren't comparing them to the Kelly sisters.Sylvia closed the bedroom door and we headed for the bed.I said, "What do you want to do, Sylvia?"She sort of rolled her eyes and said, "I want you to fuck me."I am pretty sure that I had never heard a girl say anything like that before. My cock immediately got hard.Sylvia lay down on the bed and spread her legs. I was worried that Donna would find out that I fucked Sylvia and that her sister had sucked my cock. I hesitated a moment and then the temptation of a sexy hot girl wanting to be fucked was too much for me. I jumped on the bed and kissed Sylvia. I always kissed Donna as we had sex and did it out of habit. I could tell the kiss surprised Sylvia, but she went along with it and even stuck her tongue in my mouth. However, after a fairly long kiss while I squeezed one of her firm tits, she said, "Why don't you fuck me? We don't have long."I reached down and inserted my hard cock in her cunt. She was soaking wet. I then remembered that she had probably fucked Tyrone with his gigantic cock earlier. As my cock slowly entered her, she said, "Oh yeah. That feels so, so good. Tyrone nearly split me in half. I think he needs to find a bigger woman."I didn't really like the reminder about how many cocks Sylvia had taken, but it felt really good. I started thinking that I might cum in Sylvia. She moaned and groaned with every thrust. Her slender athletic body was built for fucking.As I fucked Sylvia, I heard another loud roar from the crowd in the other room. This seemed louder than any of the earlier roars. I wondered what I was missing, but I didn't give it too much thought since my cock was in a hot nasty girl.I wasn't sure if she was faking, but it soon seemed like Sylvia was about to orgasm. She certainly sounded like it. I was thinking that I was about to cum, too, when someone called time.Sylvia pulled me into her one last time and sort of moaned again.As we got out of bed, I thanked her and said, "You know, I don't think we should tell Donna what we did back here"Sylvia smiled and said, "Okay, if you think it will be a problem."We returned to the main room and rejoined our teams. My eyes immediately went to Donna's tits. They were beautiful and jiggling. She was talking to her teammates and seemed very happy. In fact, the girl's team all seemed to be more upbeat than they had been a half hour before. I thought that maybe one of my teammates might be about to pass out or cum giving their team the win. I knew that neither possibility was far-fetched.Sylvia started the video and as you might expect with an infielder pitching, Kansas City hit another home run. The girls didn't seem as upset about it as I would have expected. Once again, before I could figure out if Donna was going to drink or negotiate with one of the guys, Diane came over to me, took my hand and led me into the bedroom. Her heavy jugs bounced as she walked even though she was still trying to cover them with her hands. It was a hopeless attempt. About all she could do was cover her nipples.I didn't want Donna to know, but I was looking forward to seeing Diane's big udders again. I assumed that she was going to titty fuck me and suck my cock again. She seemed to like it the last time she took me to the bedroom.As we were closing the door, lovely Angie came into the bedroom, too, with my buddy, Mark. Angie looked at Diane and said, "Would it be okay if we share the bed?"Diane said, "Oh, my lord, how embarrassing!"Angie replied, "I know! But, I don't know anywhere else to go. Do you think we can share the bed? You know I won't tell anyone."Diane had a rather sick look on her face and said, "I can't believe I am going to do this."Mark looked at me, started laughing and gave me a high five. As roommates in the jock dorm, we had had sex with women in the same room before, but they were nothing compared to babes like Angie and Diane.The four of us crawled onto the double bed. Mark  I were on our backs and the girls were in charge. Mark kept saying to Angie that he had waited a long time for this. Mark had lusted after Angie for a couple of years. Only some steady girlfriends had kept him from making a serious run at dating Angie.Diane kissed me as I grabbed one of her massive tits. Her nipples were both stiff and she was obviously very horny. This was surprising coming from a religious girl who everyone thought was a prude. I had been around her a lot while dating her sister and I was sure that she was a prude. Clearly, everyone was wrong.I got on my back and assumed she would titty fuck me again. I was thinking that I would cum in her mouth this time if she had time to make me cum. Instead, she straddled me, grabbed my cock and slowly inserted it in her soaking wet cunt. I couldn't believe it!At first, as my tip entered her, she was laying against my chest. I pushed her up a little and said, "Let me see your lovely tits."As she glanced at Mark and Angie next to us on the bed, Diane said, "Thank you for calling them lovely. Tyrone said the same thing a few minutes ago. I can't tell you how much that encourages me. The juvenile gawking from most guys just embarrasses me. Oh, my God! I may die of humiliation."She sat up so that I (and Mark) could see her massive udders. They bounced like only heavy, natural tits can bounce with each thrust. I couldn't take my eyes off of her big, heavy, nasty looking jugs. She soon seemed to get used to showing her bare tits bouncing. However, she became embarrassed again as Mark said several times, "Look at the size of those tits!"Mark even reached over and pinched one of Diane's stiff nipples. She blushed and covered her giant tits as Mark laughed. He loved to embarrass poor Diane.“Mark! Stop it or I'll kick you out!” I saidDiane was close to being as hot as my girlfriend, Donna. Donna was a 9 or 10 who would stop conversations in restaurants just by walking to our table. Diane was rather plain with cat eye glasses and conservative clothes. Maybe a 6 or 7, but some fashion intervention could move the meter to an 8. I couldn't help but stare at her massive tits every time she was around. I couldn't wait to see her knockers heave as I fucked her.As I started to fuck Diane, she winced as I felt her cunt impale me deeply. Was this her cherry popping? Just then the loudest cheer yet went up from the crowd in the living room. I looked to make sure the door was closed and continued to give Diane my hard cock. I grabbed both of her giant tits as she jiggled on top of me. I gently stimulated her amazing rigid nipples.With all of my focus on Diane's big tits, I didn't notice what was happening with Mark and Angie. However, after a few moments, Mark said, "Shit! I can't fucking believe this, but I came just a few minutes ago and I can't go again without a little rest." Angie was trying to get Mark stiff. She somehow took it as humiliation that he was limp with her amazing naked body all over him.“You came?” I asked Mark.  How? When? And why didn't you call for a sub?”

Sal welcomes Jason back to the show for a nice little review on the road to WrestleMania.

Negotiating With Isabella.Based on a post by Ostrich Mack. Listen to the ► Podcast at Steamy Stories.Sex sells: Isabella's New Skills.Isabella Cobelli admired her reflection in the mirror. As you could guess from the name, Isabella had Italian roots.Her father emigrated from Italy in the eighties and met and married Isabella's English mother.Isabella was an only child and after her father passed away suddenly when she was 14, she became very close to her mum.Now 23 years old and graduated with an honors degree in marketing, she had matured into a beautiful young woman. Isabella had Raven-black straight hair which hung all the way down to the small of her back. She often wore it in a French plait which meant her pretty face was plain to see.Isabella had light olive skin and funnily enough an sprinkling of freckles across her nose. Her hazel colored eyes were almond shaped and her eyebrows were thicker than was considered classical beauty. Her lips looked eminently kissable.Today Isabella had chosen a slightly daring red lipstick to emphasize the shape of her pretty mouth.Her outfit was business-like and sexy at the same time. Thigh high stockings under a grey pencil skirt, topped by a matching Bolero jacket over a semi sheer impeccable white blouse. Isabella liked to dress in pretty underwear and had chosen a half-cup lace bra and matching thong. To complete the look, she had chosen two inch heels in black to give her a little more height than her 1 meter 65.So, why all this bother to get all dressed up? After graduating Isabella tried to break into a marketing job. As the economy was in a major dip, jobs in marketing were few and far between. In fact marketing experts were all looking over their shoulders, hoping not to get their exit cards.Isabella got a job eventually in sales. Not her strongest point and she hated when people assumed that sales and marketing were one and the same. ECO-Hygiene was an up and coming supplier of Eco-friendly products for industrial use.After two months there Isabella's sales figures were under target, and she was concerned that she might just get her marching orders if she didn't at least hit her goals. As a newcomer she was assigned an area in which her predecessor had failed to drum up enough business. This geographically difficult area lay half in the urban sprawl of London and half in the leafy suburbs of Sussex. Isabella was struggling and desperate to get some decent sales under her belt. Thus, what a relief it was when, two weeks ago, all of the sales reps were invited for a weekend sales seminar in one London's prestigious hotels. All of this on their free time of course.After checking in on Friday evening, Isabella decided to have one glass of wine at the bar to see if there was any male talent attending the seminar. For some reason, despite her beauty, she didn't seem to be able to hold down a relationship for long. Men of her own age bored her. They were mostly full of themselves and only wanted to talk about their amazing feats. Isabella had missed a father for her formative years and found herself graduating towards more mature men. Problem there was that most of them were married, or un-marriable, or just plain creepy.As she sat at the bar observing the melee of sales reps loudly proclaiming their victories, Isabella was shocked when a woman sat next to her and offered her a drink."Kate", the woman said."Excuse me?" replied Isabella."Kate Connors. Senior sales director for South East" came the reply."Oh, nice to meet you." Said Isabella. "Isabella Cobrelli, My friends call me Izzy" she replied offering her hand to Kate who shook it firmly."So what do you think? Any talent in here tonight?" asked Kate.Isabella blushed."Aw come on", said Kate. "I know the drill. Been here many times and had my share of dalliances""Well" said Isabella "Up until now, not much interesting to see here. Just lot of guys full of themselves holding a pissing contest."Kate laughed out loud. "I like it" she said. "You call it as it is young lady.""What in god's name brings a beautiful woman like you to a sales conference for Industrial Hygiene products?""Well, it wasn't my first choice, and it may not be sexy, but it pays the rent." Answered Isabella."It should damn well do more than just pay the rent." Answered Kate. "What are your sales figures like?" she asked.Isabella blushed once more. "It's a struggle." She answered. "I haven't been able to score any big accounts yet and I am worried I might not hit the target.""Well maybe I can help you." Replied Kate. "After all I didn't get my position by not meeting my sales targets.""Tell me your tactics." Kate asked."Well, I like to dress in a business attire so that I look serious about the product. I make sure I know all of the specs of the particular products that I want to sell on the day, so I am well prepared for the pitch. But somehow it just seems to fall flat when I am there.""What is business attire?" Kate asked."Trouser suit with a nice blouse. Low heels for practicality." Isabella replied."Humph," snorted Kate. "No wonder that the presentations fall flat. You need to make it personal. Sure, you should be all business, but you need to be sexy too. Let me guess, most of the clients are 45 plus males bored out of their minds. You need to give their day a boost. Bring something that gets their attention, and not just the product. Don't forget there are a so many industrial hygiene products on the market, and they all do the same thing. You need to make the men want to see YOU again."Isabella listened carefully to this charismatic woman, totally in awe of her self-confidence. She quietly wished she could be like her.Kate continued. "I have done all sorts to get my sales figures up, including entertaining the clients in the broadest possible sense. These men have a boring married vanilla life. They crave excitement and attention. While their wives are away at the Rotary Club organizing charity things, the men are sitting home bored out of their skulls. Work is the same thing day after day until YOU show up. Not in a pantsuit and a blouse laced up to the neck, but in something which gives their fantasy food for thought. The women too. I have also put myself out there and entertained women."Isabella was shocked and blushed intensely. Kate was basically saying she should whore herself out to get the sale."Women too?" she asked shyly."Don't knock it till you've tried it." Replied Kate. "I have had amazing encounters with women too. And though I am not gay, I do enjoy a dally with the softer sex. Haven't you ever experimented in college?"Isabella felt like she was turning purple. "No. Never." She replied."Well play your cards right and tonight might be the first night." Kate replied.Isabella was shocked and turned on at the same time.What if she could seduce her regional sales manager? She thought. That might go some way to keeping her job.Kate signaled the bartender. "A bottle of champagne." She ordered. The bartender nodded and made a gesture toward a booth on the other side of the bar.Kate wasted no time and took Isabella's hand in hers, dragging her across the bar.The sat next to each other, watching the show.Kate turned to Isabella. "Drink up. The show has just begun. Just watch how stupid it gets."Isabella took a sip of her glass and sat back to observe. "Idiots," she thought. "Tomorrow they will be too hungover to follow the seminar."The buzz from the champagne made Isabella relax and she began to fire more questions at Kate."What did you do with all those male clients then?" she asked."Everything." Replied Kate. "From flirting to blow jobs, from blow jobs to sex, to threesomes, to gang bangs. Just as long as I got my sales. My commissions were huge, I bought my house and car for cash with everything I earned. Men are stupid. They think with their dick, and once that is engaged then they will sign anything.""And the women then?" asked Isabella."Ah that is a different story." Kate replied. "That needs a lot more subtlety.""I can show you if you want." Kate offered.Isabella though about it for some minutes, whilst watching the meat market in front of them."Okay." She said. "Show me."Kate turned to her in shock. "Really?" She asked."Yes really." Isabella replied. "I have nothing to lose and everything to gain from your experience. And besides, for some reason the thought of it makes me horny.""Right." Said Kate. "Let's take this upstairs."Kate took Isabella by the hand and lead her to the lifts. They stepped in together and Kate pushed the button for the top floor. As soon as the lift doors closed, she took Isabella in her arms and kissed her gently on the lips. Isabella swooned from the alcohol and the excitement of this new adventure. It didn't take long before she responded to Kate, kissing her passionately back, her tongue exploring Kate's mouth.Kate moaned with pleasure. "Umm; Hmm. You're good at this. Sure you haven't tried this before?"Isabella grinned and said. "Definitely not. Good catholic upbringing don't you know."They arrived at Kate's floor and exited the lift. Kate's suite was just a few meters away, and when they got there Kate fumbled to get the key to work. Isabella took the key from her gently and held it against the lock. She was amazingly calm, determined to enjoy the ride wherever that might take her.Laughing, both Kate and Isabella fell through the door into the suite. Isabella couldn't help but be impressed. "So, this is what a Senior regional manager gets," she thought. "Not bad at all."There was a bottle of champagne on ice on the hall table and Kate proceeded to open it.She poured two glasses and passed one to Isabella. "Cheers Izzy." She said, raising her glass."Cheers." Isabella replied.Kate took a draught and put her glass on the table. She took Isabella in her arms and kissed her passionately on the lips. Isabella responded with her tongue and soon they were locked in a passionate embrace.Kate opened the buttons on Isabella's blouse one by one until it was completely open.She pushed the blouse back over Isabella's shoulders leaving er bra exposed. Kate bent forward and kissed Isabella's tits through the bra. Isabella held her breath, not knowing how she would react.She was surprised that it really turned her on to have all this attention to her tits. She felt her panties getting moist.Isabella decided to take some initiative herself, and opened the buttons on Kate's blouse. Kate groaned in anticipation. Isabella rubbed her thumb over Kate's right nipple and then over the left. Kate groaned even harder. Isabella moved her finger under the fabric of Kate's bra and pinched gently with her thumb and forefinger on Kate's nipples.Kate moved her arms around Isabella's back and unclasped her bra, freeing her 32c tits. Isabella's nipples were hard as bullets. Kate couldn't resist and lowered her mouth on first one and then the other nipple.Isabella felt a shockwave go through her whole body. Her juices were now flowing freely and she felt her panties get dripping wet. Not to be outdone she released Kate's 36 c tits from their restraint and copied Kate's sucking and licking.Kate almost crumpled at the knees. For a first timer Isabella sure learned quickly."Wait." She said. "Let's take this to the bed.""Yes please." said Isabella.They half stumbled to the bed, taking their skirts off in the process.Isabella stood before Kate with only her panties and her thigh high stocking still left on. Her cunt was on fire and leaking like a fire hydrant. Her juices were running down her thighs.Kate took a moment to admire this beautiful woman in front of her before slowly rolling her panties down her thighs, over the stockings and down to the floor.Isabella stepped out of her panties. She lay down on the bed, her hand demurely over her cunt.Kate knelt down at the side of the bed and removed Isabella's hand from her cunt. Kate sat admiring the neatly trimmed cunt in front of her, all the while sniffing the scent of Isabella's sex.Isabella was panting with desire. Her cunt on fire, her juices flowing freely and her nipples hard and sore. The anticipation of what was about to happen was excruciating.And then. Kate leaned forward and drew her tongue slowly from the bottom of Isabella's lips. Slowly licking and penetrating Isabella's sex.Isabella held her breath. Her heart was beating at 200 beats per minute, or so she thought.Kate was gentle. Each time drawing her tongue from under to above. Gently she penetrated Isabella with first one, and the two fingers. Isabella gasped.Kate moved once more upwards, and this time stopped at Isabella's clit. She gently licked at Isabella's love bud taking it gently between her lips and massaging it with her tongue.Inside Isabella something exploded. Her brain seemed to short circuit and her legs began to tremble uncontrollably. Her hands grabbed the back of Kate's head and pushed her harder into her cunt. Her orgasm was coming and there was nothing going to stop it.A tsunami of electric shocks shot through Isabella's body. There was no more control. Her muscles and nerves exploded in ecstasy and her juices simply spurted out of her cunt. Isabella screamed her orgasm out as hard as she could. It was an animalistic sound which she had never heard before.

Negotiating With Isabella.Based on a post by Ostrich Mack. Listen to the ► Podcast at Steamy Stories.Sex sells: Isabella's New Skills.Isabella Cobelli admired her reflection in the mirror. As you could guess from the name, Isabella had Italian roots.Her father emigrated from Italy in the eighties and met and married Isabella's English mother.Isabella was an only child and after her father passed away suddenly when she was 14, she became very close to her mum.Now 23 years old and graduated with an honors degree in marketing, she had matured into a beautiful young woman. Isabella had Raven-black straight hair which hung all the way down to the small of her back. She often wore it in a French plait which meant her pretty face was plain to see.Isabella had light olive skin and funnily enough an sprinkling of freckles across her nose. Her hazel colored eyes were almond shaped and her eyebrows were thicker than was considered classical beauty. Her lips looked eminently kissable.Today Isabella had chosen a slightly daring red lipstick to emphasize the shape of her pretty mouth.Her outfit was business-like and sexy at the same time. Thigh high stockings under a grey pencil skirt, topped by a matching Bolero jacket over a semi sheer impeccable white blouse. Isabella liked to dress in pretty underwear and had chosen a half-cup lace bra and matching thong. To complete the look, she had chosen two inch heels in black to give her a little more height than her 1 meter 65.So, why all this bother to get all dressed up? After graduating Isabella tried to break into a marketing job. As the economy was in a major dip, jobs in marketing were few and far between. In fact marketing experts were all looking over their shoulders, hoping not to get their exit cards.Isabella got a job eventually in sales. Not her strongest point and she hated when people assumed that sales and marketing were one and the same. ECO-Hygiene was an up and coming supplier of Eco-friendly products for industrial use.After two months there Isabella's sales figures were under target, and she was concerned that she might just get her marching orders if she didn't at least hit her goals. As a newcomer she was assigned an area in which her predecessor had failed to drum up enough business. This geographically difficult area lay half in the urban sprawl of London and half in the leafy suburbs of Sussex. Isabella was struggling and desperate to get some decent sales under her belt. Thus, what a relief it was when, two weeks ago, all of the sales reps were invited for a weekend sales seminar in one London's prestigious hotels. All of this on their free time of course.After checking in on Friday evening, Isabella decided to have one glass of wine at the bar to see if there was any male talent attending the seminar. For some reason, despite her beauty, she didn't seem to be able to hold down a relationship for long. Men of her own age bored her. They were mostly full of themselves and only wanted to talk about their amazing feats. Isabella had missed a father for her formative years and found herself graduating towards more mature men. Problem there was that most of them were married, or un-marriable, or just plain creepy.As she sat at the bar observing the melee of sales reps loudly proclaiming their victories, Isabella was shocked when a woman sat next to her and offered her a drink."Kate", the woman said."Excuse me?" replied Isabella."Kate Connors. Senior sales director for South East" came the reply."Oh, nice to meet you." Said Isabella. "Isabella Cobrelli, My friends call me Izzy" she replied offering her hand to Kate who shook it firmly."So what do you think? Any talent in here tonight?" asked Kate.Isabella blushed."Aw come on", said Kate. "I know the drill. Been here many times and had my share of dalliances""Well" said Isabella "Up until now, not much interesting to see here. Just lot of guys full of themselves holding a pissing contest."Kate laughed out loud. "I like it" she said. "You call it as it is young lady.""What in god's name brings a beautiful woman like you to a sales conference for Industrial Hygiene products?""Well, it wasn't my first choice, and it may not be sexy, but it pays the rent." Answered Isabella."It should damn well do more than just pay the rent." Answered Kate. "What are your sales figures like?" she asked.Isabella blushed once more. "It's a struggle." She answered. "I haven't been able to score any big accounts yet and I am worried I might not hit the target.""Well maybe I can help you." Replied Kate. "After all I didn't get my position by not meeting my sales targets.""Tell me your tactics." Kate asked."Well, I like to dress in a business attire so that I look serious about the product. I make sure I know all of the specs of the particular products that I want to sell on the day, so I am well prepared for the pitch. But somehow it just seems to fall flat when I am there.""What is business attire?" Kate asked."Trouser suit with a nice blouse. Low heels for practicality." Isabella replied."Humph," snorted Kate. "No wonder that the presentations fall flat. You need to make it personal. Sure, you should be all business, but you need to be sexy too. Let me guess, most of the clients are 45 plus males bored out of their minds. You need to give their day a boost. Bring something that gets their attention, and not just the product. Don't forget there are a so many industrial hygiene products on the market, and they all do the same thing. You need to make the men want to see YOU again."Isabella listened carefully to this charismatic woman, totally in awe of her self-confidence. She quietly wished she could be like her.Kate continued. "I have done all sorts to get my sales figures up, including entertaining the clients in the broadest possible sense. These men have a boring married vanilla life. They crave excitement and attention. While their wives are away at the Rotary Club organizing charity things, the men are sitting home bored out of their skulls. Work is the same thing day after day until YOU show up. Not in a pantsuit and a blouse laced up to the neck, but in something which gives their fantasy food for thought. The women too. I have also put myself out there and entertained women."Isabella was shocked and blushed intensely. Kate was basically saying she should whore herself out to get the sale."Women too?" she asked shyly."Don't knock it till you've tried it." Replied Kate. "I have had amazing encounters with women too. And though I am not gay, I do enjoy a dally with the softer sex. Haven't you ever experimented in college?"Isabella felt like she was turning purple. "No. Never." She replied."Well play your cards right and tonight might be the first night." Kate replied.Isabella was shocked and turned on at the same time.What if she could seduce her regional sales manager? She thought. That might go some way to keeping her job.Kate signaled the bartender. "A bottle of champagne." She ordered. The bartender nodded and made a gesture toward a booth on the other side of the bar.Kate wasted no time and took Isabella's hand in hers, dragging her across the bar.The sat next to each other, watching the show.Kate turned to Isabella. "Drink up. The show has just begun. Just watch how stupid it gets."Isabella took a sip of her glass and sat back to observe. "Idiots," she thought. "Tomorrow they will be too hungover to follow the seminar."The buzz from the champagne made Isabella relax and she began to fire more questions at Kate."What did you do with all those male clients then?" she asked."Everything." Replied Kate. "From flirting to blow jobs, from blow jobs to sex, to threesomes, to gang bangs. Just as long as I got my sales. My commissions were huge, I bought my house and car for cash with everything I earned. Men are stupid. They think with their dick, and once that is engaged then they will sign anything.""And the women then?" asked Isabella."Ah that is a different story." Kate replied. "That needs a lot more subtlety.""I can show you if you want." Kate offered.Isabella though about it for some minutes, whilst watching the meat market in front of them."Okay." She said. "Show me."Kate turned to her in shock. "Really?" She asked."Yes really." Isabella replied. "I have nothing to lose and everything to gain from your experience. And besides, for some reason the thought of it makes me horny.""Right." Said Kate. "Let's take this upstairs."Kate took Isabella by the hand and lead her to the lifts. They stepped in together and Kate pushed the button for the top floor. As soon as the lift doors closed, she took Isabella in her arms and kissed her gently on the lips. Isabella swooned from the alcohol and the excitement of this new adventure. It didn't take long before she responded to Kate, kissing her passionately back, her tongue exploring Kate's mouth.Kate moaned with pleasure. "Umm; Hmm. You're good at this. Sure you haven't tried this before?"Isabella grinned and said. "Definitely not. Good catholic upbringing don't you know."They arrived at Kate's floor and exited the lift. Kate's suite was just a few meters away, and when they got there Kate fumbled to get the key to work. Isabella took the key from her gently and held it against the lock. She was amazingly calm, determined to enjoy the ride wherever that might take her.Laughing, both Kate and Isabella fell through the door into the suite. Isabella couldn't help but be impressed. "So, this is what a Senior regional manager gets," she thought. "Not bad at all."There was a bottle of champagne on ice on the hall table and Kate proceeded to open it.She poured two glasses and passed one to Isabella. "Cheers Izzy." She said, raising her glass."Cheers." Isabella replied.Kate took a draught and put her glass on the table. She took Isabella in her arms and kissed her passionately on the lips. Isabella responded with her tongue and soon they were locked in a passionate embrace.Kate opened the buttons on Isabella's blouse one by one until it was completely open.She pushed the blouse back over Isabella's shoulders leaving er bra exposed. Kate bent forward and kissed Isabella's tits through the bra. Isabella held her breath, not knowing how she would react.She was surprised that it really turned her on to have all this attention to her tits. She felt her panties getting moist.Isabella decided to take some initiative herself, and opened the buttons on Kate's blouse. Kate groaned in anticipation. Isabella rubbed her thumb over Kate's right nipple and then over the left. Kate groaned even harder. Isabella moved her finger under the fabric of Kate's bra and pinched gently with her thumb and forefinger on Kate's nipples.Kate moved her arms around Isabella's back and unclasped her bra, freeing her 32c tits. Isabella's nipples were hard as bullets. Kate couldn't resist and lowered her mouth on first one and then the other nipple.Isabella felt a shockwave go through her whole body. Her juices were now flowing freely and she felt her panties get dripping wet. Not to be outdone she released Kate's 36 c tits from their restraint and copied Kate's sucking and licking.Kate almost crumpled at the knees. For a first timer Isabella sure learned quickly."Wait." She said. "Let's take this to the bed.""Yes please." said Isabella.They half stumbled to the bed, taking their skirts off in the process.Isabella stood before Kate with only her panties and her thigh high stocking still left on. Her cunt was on fire and leaking like a fire hydrant. Her juices were running down her thighs.Kate took a moment to admire this beautiful woman in front of her before slowly rolling her panties down her thighs, over the stockings and down to the floor.Isabella stepped out of her panties. She lay down on the bed, her hand demurely over her cunt.Kate knelt down at the side of the bed and removed Isabella's hand from her cunt. Kate sat admiring the neatly trimmed cunt in front of her, all the while sniffing the scent of Isabella's sex.Isabella was panting with desire. Her cunt on fire, her juices flowing freely and her nipples hard and sore. The anticipation of what was about to happen was excruciating.And then. Kate leaned forward and drew her tongue slowly from the bottom of Isabella's lips. Slowly licking and penetrating Isabella's sex.Isabella held her breath. Her heart was beating at 200 beats per minute, or so she thought.Kate was gentle. Each time drawing her tongue from under to above. Gently she penetrated Isabella with first one, and the two fingers. Isabella gasped.Kate moved once more upwards, and this time stopped at Isabella's clit. She gently licked at Isabella's love bud taking it gently between her lips and massaging it with her tongue.Inside Isabella something exploded. Her brain seemed to short circuit and her legs began to tremble uncontrollably. Her hands grabbed the back of Kate's head and pushed her harder into her cunt. Her orgasm was coming and there was nothing going to stop it.A tsunami of electric shocks shot through Isabella's body. There was no more control. Her muscles and nerves exploded in ecstasy and her juices simply spurted out of her cunt. Isabella screamed her orgasm out as hard as she could. It was an animalistic sound which she had never heard before.

Hot wife visits my home after erotic event at the school play..Based on a post by Ostrich Mack. Listen to the ► Podcast at Steamy Stories.It was a typical evening activity for the school year. The sixth-year kids would perform their End of year play before graduation to high school.Having already seen two of our own kids perform before their excited parents, in past years, I knew how the evening normally went. I could never have expected that the entertainment would take the turn that it did and change my life forever in a positive way.My Marriage with Celibacy.I'm Peter Talbot. I've been married for twenty years, we had been through a lot together, but a few years earlier my wife had gone through a serious car accident which left her paralyzed and completely dependent. Sex was out of the question and the result was 3 years of forced celibacy.I still love her, but the lack of a sex life was frustrating.This also meant that I went to the play alone.Parental Society.The mood amongst the parents was relaxed, and rather jovial, as we mixed before the theatre was opened.There I met Lucy and her husband Mark, whose daughter also featured in the play. Lucy was a petite woman of forty odd years with a pretty face dark curly hair to her shoulders and olive skin. Her husband Mark, was very tall and a very handsome man. He was also very charming and much admired by the local ladies. Mark travelled over the world to the most extreme places just to photograph rare birds.Lucy didn't share Mark's enthusiasm and stayed home when he was off on his trips.Lucy and I had also socialized recently when the kids were on school camp. We ended up after a hectic day with all the parents in a bar that evening. There, after a few drinks, an incident between myself and Lucy took place that had stuck in my mind for a long time.The bar was dark and full of customers which meant we were propped in a small corner.. Lucy stood just in front of me chatting with another mother, when I noticed that she kept brushing her ass against my crotch. Subtly at first but as more drinks were consumed, the contact was longer and harder. Seeing that she was an attractive woman my cock began to react and soon I had a hard-on.Nothing further happened that evening. But as we parted, Lucy gave me a long sensuous look.Feeling guilty I went home and told my wife about the evening. She was not bothered, and even said that she understood my sexual frustration. She went as far as to say that if I found someone to relieve the tension then I had her blessing.That was a couple of months before the school play, but it never left my mind. Now with Lucy standing before me I had to think back on that evening. I blushed a little as Mark was standing next to her. Of course, I wasn't planning to interfere with their marital bliss.We made small talk until the doors opened and went ahead to our seats. By coincidence, my seat was next to Lucy on my left and Mark on the other side of her. We were in the middle if a row. The rows behind were raised in a theatre style. It was warm so I took off my sweater and placed it in my lap.Lucy leaned towards me and said in a sultry voice, "I hope you enjoy the entertainment.""That's an odd choice of words," I thought, but soon dismissed it.Soon, the lights were dimmed, and the show began. It was a typical school play with music and plenty of humorous sketches. The kids had practiced endlessly, and it showed.Mark was totally engrossed in the play as their only child, Katy, was the star of the show.After the first act, I suddenly felt shocked to feel a hand on my thigh. Not sure how to react, I glanced to my left and saw that Lucy was looking at me with a naughty gleam in her eyes. Her right hand rested on my thigh and her left hand on her husband's arm."Shush," she whispered softly.Luckily, my sweater covered her hand as she slowly began to rub upwards in the direction of my crotch and then downwards again.I was mortified and not sure what to do. Lucy became bolder, and the strokes moved higher and higher until she was rubbing my cock through my jeans.After three years of enforced celibacy, my cock didn't need much more than this to get fully hard.I wasn't following the play anymore and was shocked when the lights went up for the intermission. Most of the audience stood up for a bathroom break. Lucy also stood up to go and wanted to pass in front of me.Because the rows of seats were closely placed, this meant she had to step over my feet to get by.In doing so, she stumbled. In an effort to keep her balance, she placed her hand on my shoulder and leaned towards me.Lucy had a very smart single-tited dress on, which, as she leaned forward, opened, giving a view of her tits. She was not large-tited, but she filled her designer bra well.Lucy looked me straight in the eyes and whispered, "Like what you see?"Not waiting for a response, she straightened herself and left.Mark stayed in his seat and spoke enthusiastically about the play. I was still rock hard and very uncomfortable as I had been aroused by his wife's attention.A few minutes later, the second act was announced, and the lights were dimmed.Lucy hadn't returned yet, but just as the show began again, she reappeared.Slowly making her way through the row, she got as far as my seat and stumbled again. This time, I put out my hand to prevent her from falling.Since I was seated, I tried to be discreet and support her at hip level. However, I missed the mark and my hand ended up going through the split at the front of her dress onto her bare thigh.In my mind, I thought, "Oh shit."To my surprise, Lucy made a half squat, which moved my hand higher on her thigh. That's when I felt it. Her cunt was wet and exposed.I was shocked, realizing that her husband was sitting right next to us.Lucy stood straight up, winked at me, and dropped something in my lap. She took her seat again. Curiously, I glanced down at my lap and was stunned to find her bra and thong lying there. She must have gone to the bathroom to get rid of her underwear.I quickly shoved them in my pocket and sat back in my chair.It didn't take long before I felt Lucy's hand on my thigh again. This time, though, she went straight for my crotch. I panicked and pulled my sweater up further to cover myself.Suddenly, I felt my zipper being pulled down and the top button of my jeans being opened. Lucy's hand crept into my shorts and gently took hold of my rock-hard erection.Slowly and gently, she began to stroke my cock. I was dying from embarrassment but at the same time, intensely turned on.As I hadn't had sex in three years, it didn't take long for me to reach the point of climax. Lucy continued to stroke me mercilessly, even as I came hard.Eventually, she withdrew her hand and stood up to go to the bathroom.While she was gone, I quickly wiped myself clean with my sweater, and zipped up my jeans.When Lucy returned, she sat without incident.Then, she took my hand and placed it on her thigh in the gap of her dress.Her husband, Mark, was completely unaware of everything that had just happened.My hand slowly drifted higher until I could feel the warmth of her sex.Gently, I ran a finger along her cunt, causing her to let out a gentle sigh. I continued to rub her cunt, gradually moving my fingers upward until I found her clit.I carefully circled around her nub, caressing her over and over until she grabbed my arm and clamped her thighs together.Breathing heavily, she held me there for a moment before finally relaxing.At that moment, the last act of the play began. We both adjusted ourselves, to appear as though nothing had happened.The lights went up and the audience rose for the customary standing ovation. We left to find our children, but before they were ready, we waited in the foyer.Suddenly, someone tapped on my shoulder from behind. It was Andrea, a good friend, who had been sitting in the row behind us.She winked at me and said with a cheesy grin, "Great show, Peter.""Oh my god, she saw everything," I thought.Just then, our kids came running out and our focus was on them. The venue was a short walk from our home, and as we made our way back, we discussed the play. I didn't remember much, but our daughter seemed happy with it.Once we arrived home, we continued talking for a little while. My wife was already in bed but wanted to hear all the details about the show, so we sat with her for a while.It was late, and we all turned in for the night. As everyone else slept, my mind was still reeling from what had happened.Eventually, I fell asleep, feeling a mixture of elation and confusion.Lucy's Panties.In the weeks following the school play, the events of that evening never left my thoughts.I was too embarrassed to share the details with my wife, so I kept them to myself. Additionally, I had the minor problem of Lucy's underwear, and I didn't know how to return them.Little did I know that this would lead to my next adventure. For the time being, I kept the underwear hidden in a drawer in our bedroom, buried beneath other clothing. Occasionally, I would take them out just to admire and sniff them.Since I didn't work regular hours and had free days in the middle of the week, I often had the house to myself as my wife attended daycare.One Wednesday, the doorbell rang at around 11:00 a.m. Assuming it might be a parcel delivery, I hurried to answer the door. To my surprise, it was Lucy standing before me.I invited her in, feeling awkward and unsure of what to say."You have something of mine," she said. "I've come to take it back."Stammering, I replied, "Yes, yes. I'll get it for you."I went to retrieve her underwear from the drawer in our bedroom, taking one last sniff before turning to return to the living room.When I turned around, I was astonished to find Lucy had followed me into the bedroom.She was wearing the same dress she had worn for the school play. I noticed that it had a single button at waist-level, where the two sides overlapped each other. I stood there, speechless, unable to find the right words.Lucy smiled at me enigmatically."You'll have to help me put them on." She said.My cock sprung to attention.With a single movement, she opened the button on her dress and let it fall open.All I could manage to say was, "Wow."Apart from thigh-high stockings and a pair of high heels, Lucy was completely naked under her dress.She was a beautiful sight to behold.Her petite frame was perfectly proportioned, with small firm tits with nipples standing out like bullets. Her hips curved gently out from a narrow waist, framing a perfect cunt. Her pubic hair was neatly trimmed. She had an athletic body and perfect legs showcased by her high heels and thigh-highs, she was a vision.Impatiently, Lucy lifted one foot, urging me to pull the thong over her shoe. I knelt before her. I was very close and could smell her sex. Then she lifted her other foot, and I slipped the thong over that too.Still kneeling, I slowly pulled the thong upwards. Just as it reached above her knees, Lucy grabbed my head with both hands and drew me toward her cunt."Eat me," she pleaded.I didn't need a second invitation and moved my face to her cunt, which was already leaking profusely.I started by licking her gently along the inside of her thigh. Remembering her teasing from the earlier encounter at the school play, I decided to tease her a little.Slowly, slowly, I made my way upwards until I was close to her cunt lips. I gently probed her lips with my tongue."Yes," she said, "I've been dreaming of this since that night."As I licked her slit, I could taste her juices, but I kept away from her clit for the moment."Keep going," she pleaded.I inserted a finger gently into her cunt, softly stroking her."Ah" she groaned. "don't stop."Hooking my finger, I massaged her G Spot, which elicited a deep moan from her.Lucy writhed on my face, desperate for me to lick her clit. I waited, letting her need build."Please," she whispered, "make me cum."Giving in to her pleading, I gently licked her clit, moving my tongue in gentle circles around her love bud. She shuddered and pressed her cunt harder against my face.

Hot wife visits my home after erotic event at the school play..Based on a post by Ostrich Mack. Listen to the ► Podcast at Steamy Stories.It was a typical evening activity for the school year. The sixth-year kids would perform their End of year play before graduation to high school.Having already seen two of our own kids perform before their excited parents, in past years, I knew how the evening normally went. I could never have expected that the entertainment would take the turn that it did and change my life forever in a positive way.My Marriage with Celibacy.I'm Peter Talbot. I've been married for twenty years, we had been through a lot together, but a few years earlier my wife had gone through a serious car accident which left her paralyzed and completely dependent. Sex was out of the question and the result was 3 years of forced celibacy.I still love her, but the lack of a sex life was frustrating.This also meant that I went to the play alone.Parental Society.The mood amongst the parents was relaxed, and rather jovial, as we mixed before the theatre was opened.There I met Lucy and her husband Mark, whose daughter also featured in the play. Lucy was a petite woman of forty odd years with a pretty face dark curly hair to her shoulders and olive skin. Her husband Mark, was very tall and a very handsome man. He was also very charming and much admired by the local ladies. Mark travelled over the world to the most extreme places just to photograph rare birds.Lucy didn't share Mark's enthusiasm and stayed home when he was off on his trips.Lucy and I had also socialized recently when the kids were on school camp. We ended up after a hectic day with all the parents in a bar that evening. There, after a few drinks, an incident between myself and Lucy took place that had stuck in my mind for a long time.The bar was dark and full of customers which meant we were propped in a small corner.. Lucy stood just in front of me chatting with another mother, when I noticed that she kept brushing her ass against my crotch. Subtly at first but as more drinks were consumed, the contact was longer and harder. Seeing that she was an attractive woman my cock began to react and soon I had a hard-on.Nothing further happened that evening. But as we parted, Lucy gave me a long sensuous look.Feeling guilty I went home and told my wife about the evening. She was not bothered, and even said that she understood my sexual frustration. She went as far as to say that if I found someone to relieve the tension then I had her blessing.That was a couple of months before the school play, but it never left my mind. Now with Lucy standing before me I had to think back on that evening. I blushed a little as Mark was standing next to her. Of course, I wasn't planning to interfere with their marital bliss.We made small talk until the doors opened and went ahead to our seats. By coincidence, my seat was next to Lucy on my left and Mark on the other side of her. We were in the middle if a row. The rows behind were raised in a theatre style. It was warm so I took off my sweater and placed it in my lap.Lucy leaned towards me and said in a sultry voice, "I hope you enjoy the entertainment.""That's an odd choice of words," I thought, but soon dismissed it.Soon, the lights were dimmed, and the show began. It was a typical school play with music and plenty of humorous sketches. The kids had practiced endlessly, and it showed.Mark was totally engrossed in the play as their only child, Katy, was the star of the show.After the first act, I suddenly felt shocked to feel a hand on my thigh. Not sure how to react, I glanced to my left and saw that Lucy was looking at me with a naughty gleam in her eyes. Her right hand rested on my thigh and her left hand on her husband's arm."Shush," she whispered softly.Luckily, my sweater covered her hand as she slowly began to rub upwards in the direction of my crotch and then downwards again.I was mortified and not sure what to do. Lucy became bolder, and the strokes moved higher and higher until she was rubbing my cock through my jeans.After three years of enforced celibacy, my cock didn't need much more than this to get fully hard.I wasn't following the play anymore and was shocked when the lights went up for the intermission. Most of the audience stood up for a bathroom break. Lucy also stood up to go and wanted to pass in front of me.Because the rows of seats were closely placed, this meant she had to step over my feet to get by.In doing so, she stumbled. In an effort to keep her balance, she placed her hand on my shoulder and leaned towards me.Lucy had a very smart single-tited dress on, which, as she leaned forward, opened, giving a view of her tits. She was not large-tited, but she filled her designer bra well.Lucy looked me straight in the eyes and whispered, "Like what you see?"Not waiting for a response, she straightened herself and left.Mark stayed in his seat and spoke enthusiastically about the play. I was still rock hard and very uncomfortable as I had been aroused by his wife's attention.A few minutes later, the second act was announced, and the lights were dimmed.Lucy hadn't returned yet, but just as the show began again, she reappeared.Slowly making her way through the row, she got as far as my seat and stumbled again. This time, I put out my hand to prevent her from falling.Since I was seated, I tried to be discreet and support her at hip level. However, I missed the mark and my hand ended up going through the split at the front of her dress onto her bare thigh.In my mind, I thought, "Oh shit."To my surprise, Lucy made a half squat, which moved my hand higher on her thigh. That's when I felt it. Her cunt was wet and exposed.I was shocked, realizing that her husband was sitting right next to us.Lucy stood straight up, winked at me, and dropped something in my lap. She took her seat again. Curiously, I glanced down at my lap and was stunned to find her bra and thong lying there. She must have gone to the bathroom to get rid of her underwear.I quickly shoved them in my pocket and sat back in my chair.It didn't take long before I felt Lucy's hand on my thigh again. This time, though, she went straight for my crotch. I panicked and pulled my sweater up further to cover myself.Suddenly, I felt my zipper being pulled down and the top button of my jeans being opened. Lucy's hand crept into my shorts and gently took hold of my rock-hard erection.Slowly and gently, she began to stroke my cock. I was dying from embarrassment but at the same time, intensely turned on.As I hadn't had sex in three years, it didn't take long for me to reach the point of climax. Lucy continued to stroke me mercilessly, even as I came hard.Eventually, she withdrew her hand and stood up to go to the bathroom.While she was gone, I quickly wiped myself clean with my sweater, and zipped up my jeans.When Lucy returned, she sat without incident.Then, she took my hand and placed it on her thigh in the gap of her dress.Her husband, Mark, was completely unaware of everything that had just happened.My hand slowly drifted higher until I could feel the warmth of her sex.Gently, I ran a finger along her cunt, causing her to let out a gentle sigh. I continued to rub her cunt, gradually moving my fingers upward until I found her clit.I carefully circled around her nub, caressing her over and over until she grabbed my arm and clamped her thighs together.Breathing heavily, she held me there for a moment before finally relaxing.At that moment, the last act of the play began. We both adjusted ourselves, to appear as though nothing had happened.The lights went up and the audience rose for the customary standing ovation. We left to find our children, but before they were ready, we waited in the foyer.Suddenly, someone tapped on my shoulder from behind. It was Andrea, a good friend, who had been sitting in the row behind us.She winked at me and said with a cheesy grin, "Great show, Peter.""Oh my god, she saw everything," I thought.Just then, our kids came running out and our focus was on them. The venue was a short walk from our home, and as we made our way back, we discussed the play. I didn't remember much, but our daughter seemed happy with it.Once we arrived home, we continued talking for a little while. My wife was already in bed but wanted to hear all the details about the show, so we sat with her for a while.It was late, and we all turned in for the night. As everyone else slept, my mind was still reeling from what had happened.Eventually, I fell asleep, feeling a mixture of elation and confusion.Lucy's Panties.In the weeks following the school play, the events of that evening never left my thoughts.I was too embarrassed to share the details with my wife, so I kept them to myself. Additionally, I had the minor problem of Lucy's underwear, and I didn't know how to return them.Little did I know that this would lead to my next adventure. For the time being, I kept the underwear hidden in a drawer in our bedroom, buried beneath other clothing. Occasionally, I would take them out just to admire and sniff them.Since I didn't work regular hours and had free days in the middle of the week, I often had the house to myself as my wife attended daycare.One Wednesday, the doorbell rang at around 11:00 a.m. Assuming it might be a parcel delivery, I hurried to answer the door. To my surprise, it was Lucy standing before me.I invited her in, feeling awkward and unsure of what to say."You have something of mine," she said. "I've come to take it back."Stammering, I replied, "Yes, yes. I'll get it for you."I went to retrieve her underwear from the drawer in our bedroom, taking one last sniff before turning to return to the living room.When I turned around, I was astonished to find Lucy had followed me into the bedroom.She was wearing the same dress she had worn for the school play. I noticed that it had a single button at waist-level, where the two sides overlapped each other. I stood there, speechless, unable to find the right words.Lucy smiled at me enigmatically."You'll have to help me put them on." She said.My cock sprung to attention.With a single movement, she opened the button on her dress and let it fall open.All I could manage to say was, "Wow."Apart from thigh-high stockings and a pair of high heels, Lucy was completely naked under her dress.She was a beautiful sight to behold.Her petite frame was perfectly proportioned, with small firm tits with nipples standing out like bullets. Her hips curved gently out from a narrow waist, framing a perfect cunt. Her pubic hair was neatly trimmed. She had an athletic body and perfect legs showcased by her high heels and thigh-highs, she was a vision.Impatiently, Lucy lifted one foot, urging me to pull the thong over her shoe. I knelt before her. I was very close and could smell her sex. Then she lifted her other foot, and I slipped the thong over that too.Still kneeling, I slowly pulled the thong upwards. Just as it reached above her knees, Lucy grabbed my head with both hands and drew me toward her cunt."Eat me," she pleaded.I didn't need a second invitation and moved my face to her cunt, which was already leaking profusely.I started by licking her gently along the inside of her thigh. Remembering her teasing from the earlier encounter at the school play, I decided to tease her a little.Slowly, slowly, I made my way upwards until I was close to her cunt lips. I gently probed her lips with my tongue."Yes," she said, "I've been dreaming of this since that night."As I licked her slit, I could taste her juices, but I kept away from her clit for the moment."Keep going," she pleaded.I inserted a finger gently into her cunt, softly stroking her."Ah" she groaned. "don't stop."Hooking my finger, I massaged her G Spot, which elicited a deep moan from her.Lucy writhed on my face, desperate for me to lick her clit. I waited, letting her need build."Please," she whispered, "make me cum."Giving in to her pleading, I gently licked her clit, moving my tongue in gentle circles around her love bud. She shuddered and pressed her cunt harder against my face.

En hater er også en følger.

Shame on both of you for hurting Julian Santiguida's feeling.

Heii og god tirsdag! I dag har jeg med meg lillesøss for å diskutere current events og i denne episoden får du alt fra hva vi syntes om pels og skinny jeans til innkjøp i Milano. Hva har vi sett på skjermen den siste tiden; love Island, den nye Bridget Jones filmen og Apple Cider Vinegar. Vi gir dere en innføring i customer service 101 og har en ny måte å si ha det på. Håper du liker episoden

This album review contains material that may be unsuitable for children under 17 years old - but so does every episode, honestly.That Rihanna Reign just won't let up!!!!!!Happy Birthday Rihanna!!!! We - and by "we" we mean the world - can't get enough of you and your impact. Dutchess of Done, Mother of Mug, Countess of Cunt, and not to mention A HITMAKER!!!!!!!!Get ready to get RATED R... Listen in as we recant the time, place, and state of emotion we and Rih all were in when Rated R dropped. The year was 2009... it was a dark and stormy night, and... anyway press play!!!!!Watch us on The Psyce' s Youtube channel and Follow us everywhere @thepsycepodcast.

TTO-213 Basement Dan, Glowsticks, Camping Trips Everclear, Fire Spit, Lighting Farts On Fire, Anally Ingestion, Shitting Yourself, Eddie Izzard, Properly Capture a Jart, Jump Scare, Farting Jars, Red Bull No WIngs, Drive Thru Service, Truck Load of Alcohol, Destroyed Toilets, Fine Cyber Farts, Red Dye 3, Rapper Sues Lyft, Fatphobic, Cocaine White House Bowl, American Made, Lady Had to be Cunt, Last King of Scotland, Furry Costumes, Dan Lost Chickens, Hawk Shotgun, 

As your reigning queen and newly crowned award winner of a Canadian Podcast Award, join me and my wife, Em from Sexistentialist, as we roast 2024 and begrudgingly look ahead at 2025's sex and dating trends. Because apparently straight people are just now discovering what boundaries are.Follow Sexistentialist______________________________________________________________________________Use code SEXEDWITHTIM for awesome discounts!15% all regular-priced items off when you shop at Love Shop25% off your entire purchase at dalekuda, b-Vibe, and le WandCode TIM45LUST at erikalust.com for 45% off your subscriptionFriends of the pod:Honey Play BoxFleshjackInya RoseLovehoneyHot OctopussWet For HerAdam & EveBabeland______________________________________________________________________________Email: timlagman@sexedwithtim.comInstagram: @sexedwithtimFacebook: Sex Ed With TimTwitter: @sexedwithtimVoicemail: SpeakpipeVisit my website Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Yesterday at my removals job we worked for a customer who was sending some of their furniture to an auction house to be sold - that is to say, this person was extremely well-off. They had two children there with them, both around 5 years old, and these kids were, as it transpired, two of the most entitled, horrible little bastards I've ever met. They were both rude to us and clearly thought themselves better than anyone who would come to do work for their family.   I landed in Perth today and just checked in to the room above a pub where I'll be staying for the next 19 nights. It's gross in here, there's shared bathrooms, the kitchen has no utensils and smells like musty, old grease, and the laundry is in the basement and was, I am informed by one of the local characters, without power last night. Truly exhilarating stuff!   I think I've reached a point in my life and my career where I am no longer happy to accept this kind of grotty living situation. When I was younger, even as recently as 5 years ago, I probably would have been okay with this, but I've grown up, and I'm not now. Thing is, I'm also not in a financial position where I can afford to stay somewhere that might be, how can I put it, "more to my taste". So here I am. I'll buy some candles and incense and flowers and make the room nice, and I'll do my shows and keep working, but also I'm going to be grateful for this time.   If I've learned anything in the last few years, it is that there is dignity in the struggle and not getting what you want. There is pride to be taken in doing a job, and working for someone else, and we should always respect those who happen, in any given moment, to be doing their work for us. Staying in this awful room is a good reminder that no matter where I go or what I do in my life, any success I have is a blessing, not a right. Remember to be grateful, if only so as not to become one of those awful, little cunts.

Season 5 Ep 2: Matt Gaetz Is Florida Man Royalty and I Always Knew Skip Bayless Was a Cunt 0:00 - Intro 1:16 - Act One: Matt Gaetz Is Florida Man Royalty  16:03 - Act Two: I Always Knew Skip Bayless Was A Cunt 

The Music Room.Based on a post by FinalStand, in 13 parts. Listen to the ► Podcast at Explicit Novels.  ‘My, oh my,' Taliyah murmured. She had felt the two Samsonov boys pressing in on her, Mikhail behind her and Vlad to the front. She hoped she had them right. With her heart racing and her fervor rising, she wasn't 100% sure. ‘Mikhail,' she looked over her shoulder as she moved her ass up and down his crotch, ‘this is only for you.' Her declaration was in a throaty moan.‘That's unfair,' I chuckled to Taliyah.‘Don't worry,' her head tilted up, ‘I know some tricks Brandy doesn't know.' I didn't know if that was true, or not. Finding out would be fun. I kissed her on the lips. At the same time, my brother nipped down on her shirt-covered shoulder.‘Don't be cruel,' he teased her. ‘You know he was sneaking peeks at the lodge.'‘My body; my rules,' Taliyah insisted somewhat breathlessly.‘Okay. I'll work on changing your mind,' I growled before diving in for another kiss. Our tongues battled. Taliyah placed her hands on either side of my chin, taking control of our passion. In doing so, I sensed her reticence quickly passing.‘Y'alls first time with one girl?' she purred when we came up for air. She knew it was, so I was left trying to figure out her game.For Taliyah this was a totally new experience too. The sense she had such a level of control over the masculine power encompassing her was dizzying. She hated to admit it, but looking into Vlad's eyes felt nice. His gaze was focused on her. His perceptions were seeking out her reactions and her responses, not still hooked on Brandy.In the back of her mind had been the gnawing fear she was a substitute fuck; a Brandy-surrogate in Vlad's mind. She saw none of that. His attention was eating her up and it made her so fucking hot. Even more thrilling: she was soaked, breathing heavy and trembling; and they all three still had their damn clothes on!Taliyah's fingers began fumbling with my belt.‘We've got time,' I stroked her cheek. I caught a quick signal from Mikhail. We both dove down for opposite sides of her neck, suckling, licking and nibbling on her tense muscles from collar to ear lobe. In the process, I managed to pull her shirt out of her skirt; she got my belt buckle undone. Synching our oral attacks with working our shoes off with foot-action alone, we then went straight to loosening our belts and; front first (aka me); yanked off our jeans and underwear in one brutal maneuver.‘Ah,' Taliyah gasped as my lips and tongue played along the crux of her windpipe and chin, ‘you two practice that much?'‘Yeah,' Mikhail chortled. ‘We do.'Taliyah's hand on my shoulders caused me to bring about a pause in our actions.‘Seriously?' she looked over her shoulder at my vigorous triplet.‘Why would I make up something so bizarre?' was his take on things. I could tell Taliyah 'wanted' to know more. But she simply wanted more of us both right now and figured she could interrogate us about our unusual sexual indoctrination later; post-coitus. They began kissing and their kisses became an oral battle replete with growls, rumbles and other hungry sounds.I took the distraction to rapidly unbutton Taliyah's shirt, pull it open and; Lord Hallelujah!; she had on a front-opening bra; and unleash her 'puppies'. I had talked about her preferences with neither Mikhail nor Brandy, but I'd witnessed and rewound (hey, I'm 18 years old) the footage of the lakeside orgy enough times to know she liked her nipples played with.‘Uh; uh; uh; ah; ‘ the dark-skinned beauty moaned. ‘Are you two telepathic?' she said in response to our hands reaching inside her panties and moving along her vulva and perineum, coming at her from different directions at the same time. I wasn't quite sure what inspired us; I put my thumb upon her aroused clit; it felt almost the size of the first digit of my pinkie; and reached around to insert my ring finger against her sphincter.At the same time, Mikhail was working his thumb up her bunghole and rubbing his forefinger into her vagina. She was already wet and getting wetter by the second. By the oily texture of my brother's digits, he'd somehow snuck some lubricant on them while our partner was distracted.The combination of our height differentials, our ministrations and her obvious pleasure forced my brother and I to go to our knees.‘Oh God! I need a picture of this,' Taliyah exulted. ‘Both of you on your knees around me.'‘I promise,' I looked up, ‘we'll do this again.'‘You'd better,' she beamed, looking down at me, wreathed in a cocktail of majesty and carnality. She added to that image by cupping her left breast into a mouth-watering mound. No words were necessary. I licked the rich, dark brown areola before latching onto her stubby, darker nipple. My thumb and finger were working in tandem with Mikhail's over her cunt and anus to bring her to fruition.Taliyah was struggling to keep it together. She fed her other breast to Vlad who attentively latched on and began applying a tantalizing level of suction which was driving her wild.‘Cut loose, Babe,' Mikhail whispered into her ear. He was rising back to his feet at the same time his right hand began to furiously frig her.She shot him a foul look over her shoulder.'As if he can tell me what and when I can; ' she thought to herself.‘We are in a soundproof room for a reason,' he grinned. She sensed the connection. He wasn't out to steal anything from her. Her lover was famished for even more of her sensuality and that desire was showing through. Taliyah looked heavenward; and then Howled!Emptiness Fourth Period Bell.Sultana Berry stumbled into the front of the room first. We were on our knees; Mikhail had his back to the newcomers, Taliyah was on all-fours with Mikhail doing her cunt from behind while she was giving me yet another blowjob. I was looking right at Sultana and the other cheerleaders as they entered.‘I hope this doesn't take too long,' Sultana got out, ‘because I'd; ‘ and her head turned from looking over her shoulder at her fellow cheerleaders in the hallway to the three of us a dozen feet away.‘Holy Shit!' she exclaimed.‘What?' wondered Randi Leigh who was right behind Sultana. Before she could comment, Alondra Lamb, stumbled in, with Brandy herding her and Betty Jo Starling ahead of her. ‘Oh fuck,' gasped Randi Leigh, her surprise turning quickly vindictive, ‘Brandy, your guy seems to be fucking your best friend.'Alondra scanned around seeking direction. Sultana's eyes flicked to Brandy before latching back onto my 'midsection' as Taliyah unleashed my cock from her lips allowing it to sort of sway there; hypnotically.‘'Bout time you got here,' Taliyah slurred happily to Brandy. ‘I'm tapping out.'With that, she slouched down on her left side, head resting on her biceps, serene smile on her face. Earlier we'd spread out the piano cover so we didn't have to deal with the much colder floor. Even as Mikhail let her down gently, his tool came free with a loud 'plop!', revealing its rock-hard, 'full mast' status.‘Hey Brandy, what is Randi Leigh doing here?' I beamed lust-filled affection at my girlfriend. ‘I thought you said she wasn't invited.' According to my Mother (the Evil Psychic Mistress of Misdirection), insinuating to one girl another woman didn't want you close by 'her man' made her want to get close to you. It didn't make much sense to me, but then what did I know about women? Sure enough, Randi Leigh shot Brandy an evil look.Mikhail extended his sweaty body over Taliyah, planted a few feather-light kisses on her shoulder and ear then rose up, right leg first. He quarter-turned their way.‘Alondra,' he emoted wolfishly. The smoky hot young lady blinked in surprise then pointed to herself as if to affirm she was the one he was talking to; as if there was another Alondra in this High School. There wasn't.‘Come here,' he beckoned her with a finger.‘Me?' she gulped.‘I've wanted to kiss you since the first time I saw you,' Mikhail rumbled.‘Me?' she repeated. Alondra wasn't going to win any debates with that level of verbal repertoire.‘Hold on now,' Sultana interposed herself, facing her ladies. Her mistake was taking her eyes off my brother.‘But I think he needs help getting dressed,' Alondra tried to explain. How cute.‘Brandy, what's going on here?' Sultana was looking past Alondra to the Team Co-Captain. Mikhail snuck up on Sultana quickly and quietly. I was right behind him. Randi Leigh was trying to get Sultana's attention. Too late. He moved straight into Sultana's back, driving her face to face with Alondra.‘So you think you are better than Taliyah, do you?' he breathed into Sultana's ear. She recoiled as much as she could, putting a weak elbow into his ribs. She was only partially effective in turning around. For my part, I slipped around them and went directly into Randi Leigh's personal space. Take into account both my brother and I were naked, glistening with sweat, and highly aroused;‘Randi Leigh (apparently middle names were important in cases such as this), why doesn't Brandy want you and I hanging out?' I lied.‘I never said that,' Brandy protested. If someone I had known for more than half my life told me one thing and a near-stranger told me the opposite, I would believe the person I knew well. Mom insisted Randi wouldn't believe Brandy;‘Sure you didn't,' Randi Leigh simmered while reaching down and wrapping a hand around my cock. She gave me a little yank. ‘Not bad.'‘Get off me!' Sultana demanded of Mikhail. She got her wish. Mikhail moved her aside and went after Alondra. He astonished everyone by cupping the chestnut-complexioned girl's jaw romantically in both hands and placing a kiss on her lips.‘Fucking fantastic,' he purred, then went in pursuit of a far more brutal and demanding lip-lock which took hostage the air from deep within Alondra's lungs.‘Hey,' Sultana protested. ‘Stop that.' She tried to separate my brother from his prey. Alondra complicated the issue by entwining one arm behind his head and the other around his waist, keeping him close. Wanton moans echoed from her unfathomed sensual core.Randi Leigh drank in the scene.‘I'm Rashaan's girl now,' she grinned up at me, hand still on my rod.‘I'm not going to tell him a damn thing,' I looked down at her. My left hand went along her right elbow to her shoulder all friendly-like. When Randi Leigh didn't resist, I moved my right from her hip to her ass and began bringing her close.‘I'm not going to fuck you,' her lips insisted at the same time her hand began jacking me off. ‘I don't do White guys.'‘Does cunnilingus count?' I whispered into her ear.‘Ah; ‘ she murmured. ‘Maybe not,' she finished off with a foxy grin of her own.I could begin to see the calculations going off behind those eyes. Perhaps; just perhaps; there was a reason Brandy had risked Darius' wrath to fuck me; on multiple occasions. I let my hand on her ass creep to her cleft.‘Clothes,' I teased her; as she had me on too many occasions. Meanwhile;‘Brandy?' Sultana looked to the functioning Co-Captain for intervention. Brandy had already kicked off her tennis shoes and was currently stripping down out of her jeans and panties. She was also still by the door. Only later would I realize it was because she'd sent Misty Dawn and Betty Jo Starling to escort a semi-crippled Alexander here and the door was locked, so they would need to be let in; thus necessitating her remaining close to the door.Brandy's allies on the squad, Noémie and Amber Lee, were keeping three 'opposing' cheerleaders (Vantrice, Mia and Pearl) preoccupied this lunch period. Dealing with five new cheerleaders would be stressing the three of us guys to our limits. In theory, I guessed that meant we'd pick those other five off later in the week, or on Saturday at Brandy's house.‘Taliyah and I can't keep up with these three,' Brandy exaggerated. ‘I was hoping y'all could help out this one time. Please?'‘But; ‘ Sultana sputtered. I was willing to bet 'they're White' almost spilled forth. But she spared another look to the sexually sated Taliyah instead.‘By all means, leave my Man alone,' Taliyah threatened, then yawned, stretching out like a savannah lioness. ‘I'll leave you Rashaan.'According to Mom, that wasn't an offer, it was a challenge; for Sultana to go after Mikhail. To my naïve way of thinking, he could have made it easier by switching his attention from Alondra to Sultana, who was the more dominant woman anyway. Not only was that 'not' Mikhail, it wasn't what a man did if he wanted a woman's interest. We; the men; had to play hard to get.I'd told Mom I preferred honesty. She'd told me to keep my preferences to myself and do what I was told; and I would somehow end up happier. I truly believe my Mom loves me, so I went along with her madcap advice. It worked gang-busters. The more Mikhail persisted in focusing on Alondra, the harder Sultana worked on enticing and seducing him; because he was a bastard?In comparison, I had it easier. Brandy was clearly horny for me and Randi Leigh got off on thwarting Brandy's lusts by corralling my attentions with her body motions. The more frustrated Brandy became, the more Randi Leigh's inhibitions flew out the window. She had me on my back, hand still on my cock as she guided it into her steamy folds in under two minutes. Putting on a condom? 'No time for that,' or so she claimed. Funny. I thought we had fifty minutes.Here I was feeling bad about leaving Brandy out and here she was with her triumphant smile from over Randi Leigh's shoulder. She had totally suckered Randi Leigh and me with her passionate resistance. She mouthed 'I love you' before scampering off to get the door. Alexander, Misty Dawn and Betty Jo had arrived.Under anything approaching normal group dynamics, at least one of the young ladies could have been expected to bolt this unusual erotic encounter; however the Cheer Squad was used to their Lunch Time and post-Practice orgies. In the immediate post-Darius Era, they hadn't been getting any and suddenly they had three hunky, hot and ready (even if White) guys in front of them, willing to perform.Alexander had it the easiest. He was 'infirm', so Misty Dawn decided to transfer all the gratitude she had for me not getting into a slugfest with Cousin Buck in the Parking Lot this morning to him, thus lavishing him with some intense, solo loving care. Betty Jo, momentarily at loose ends, was called over to Mikhail by Alondra, who insisted she was still trying to get him dressed;If Mikhail felt any reticence over reliving the sexual exploits of his Varangian ancestors, he didn't show it in the slightest. He soon had Alondra and Betty Jo kneeling with their haunches on their heels, licking his balls and cock-shaft while Sultana stood by his side, kissing him longingly as he massaged her pubic mound; no penetration yet. It took me a few seconds to realize he was teasing her; plus, he was able to pat the kneeling lasses on their heads when they particularly pleased him. What a fortuitous pig.I didn't have the time to verbally chastise him. As I began to work in and out of Randi Leigh's love box, twisting my hips during every intrusion, looking to increase her stimulations, she began to get really responsive and incredibly vocal. The combination of the 'aphrodisiacs' Mom had given us, plus my interrupted blowjob with Taliyah, prompted me to begin ejaculating into her womb. Whoops!‘Ugh; ugh; ugh; ugh; ugh; ugh --ugh-ugh-uh-uh-ug!' escaped from her lips and then she went off like no woman I'd ever seen before. Randi Leigh was acting as if she was having a seizure. Her long, brunette hair, normally in a ponytail, but worn loose today, whipped around her head as she thrashed and jerked atop of me. Fingernails drew bloody rivets across my pectorals as her hands scarred me from collar to mid-stomach.Her mahogany skin (she was White, but well-tanned) was more flushed than normal, her small nipples were a bright crimson within her rich reddish-brown half-dollar-sized areolas equally blood-flushed and puff. Her breathing came in staggered gasps. Then she completely locked up perpendicular to my waist, back bowed and her face finally ending up staring down at me in disbelief.All I could think of, looking back up at her, trying to make sense of the electricity spreading like fire through her veins was; 'if you figure out what I just did to you, please let me know what it was; because I may want to be more careful who I do it to in the future'.‘Uwee; ‘ escaped from her tightly constricted airways right before Randi Leigh's eyes rolled back in her head and she collapsed on my chest, utterly spent.‘Brandy?' I looked past the unconscious woman on my chest toward my vastly more experienced lover. She looked stunned. The rest of the room was quiet.‘I think; that was Randi Leigh; having an orgasm,' Brandy gasped.‘You go, Bro!' Mikhail saluted me, slamming his closed-fist over his heart; twice. With the way the three women were looking at him, he should have been more careful. I suspected they were expecting the same treatment.‘Are you sure you are okay with having sex?' Misty Dawn inquired of Alexander, even as she started yanking his pants down.‘For you; sure. I'll get my belt,' he gently caressed her cheek, ‘if you could get my shoes?'I had to push Randi Leigh up, then maneuver us around so I could carry the still blissfully unaware Randi Leigh to the piano cover to be lain beside Taliyah before returning my attentions to Brandy. I caught sight of some worry in her eyes until she realized my eyes were nearly bugged out of my head and my cock was throbbing upright and returning to duty; her completely naked body had that effect on me.‘Oh,' she giggled. ‘You're hurt.'‘It'll heal,' I ignored the pain. We met halfway. My hands went to her right breast and left face cheek to steer her head up to a kiss. Hers went to my cock; still no condom. So much for 'safe' sex.‘Ladies, Sultana's going to ruin our fun, so I gotta take care of her first before I can get back to the both of you,' Mikhail boasted.‘You think so?' Sultana Berry put forth with provocative bravado.‘Yeah,' Mikhail snorted. ‘Alondra and Betty Jo like me, so I'd like to spend some quality time with them. You'd like to think you are better than me, but we both know you aren't. So I'm about to prove it to you.'Seriously? Isn't this the moment the woman slaps the man in the face, throws a drink at him, calls him an 'asshole' (or something even less flattering), then storms out?‘I'm going to ruin you for every other women you ever try to get with,' Sultana rose to the challenge.Okay then;‘If she wasn't such a bitch,' Brandy whispered to me as she followed me to the floor, her riding me cowgirl, ‘I'd warn her.'All I could do was grunt.‘What was that?' Brandy's brow furrowed and her cute nose twitched.Had my Mother not told me this would happen; scary and far beyond weird; I would have thought I was doing something wrong. This was Brandy seeking affirmation.‘You; above me; every time it is so wonderful and new, Brandy Crystal Carson,' I replied in a soft, rich romantic voice. Just because I knew the question was coming, didn't mean I'd rehearsed a response. I went with my gut and by Brandy's near-tearful reaction, I was right on the money. Brandy leaned in, squishing her breasts against me and gave me a famished kiss.‘I feel the same way,' she murmured.‘You like blonde-haired girls with big boobs sitting on top of you too?' I joked.‘Oh,' she sat up, feigning indignation well, ‘Poo!' then she smacked my chest. Then, to further punish me, she flexed her thighs; going up and down; and undulated her vaginal walls; to give my cock a very friendly 'welcome back'.'Yikes!' Man, but that felt really good. Brandy clued in to my pleasure and was looking a bit too pleased with herself, so I pushed up with one arm and went like a lamprey for her right breast.‘Hey!' she gasped. ‘Not so rough.' Which meant 'keep at it'. ‘I said not so rough, Vlad. I'm a bit tender,' she sighed happily, reinforcing her misdirection by placing a hand on the back of my head, keeping my lips and teeth tight to her tit.'Nom-nom-nom-nom,' I happily suckled along for six, or seven minutes until;‘Hey y'all,' Alondra appeared above me/us. ‘Can I join in?'Reluctantly I released Brandy's mammary to get a quick peek at what Mikhail was up to.He was going for some hot-muff action on Sultana where she lay on top of the piano, which was, in turn, on the elevated stage. Her legs were upraised in a 'V' with her hands holding the back of each knee to hold the pose. My brother was alternating between kisses to her clit and slit and teasing her labia with his tongue and teeth; gentle-like for now. When he figured out her sensitive spots, he'd be doubling down on them rapid-fire soon enough.‘Unless my Princess claws me like a scratching post; Hell ya!' I grinned. That was a concession to my Lady's #1 status without making me sound cunt-whipped. Brandy gave a playful harrumph married to her own saucy smile. The problem was;‘Princess? Who is that?' Alondra struggled to concentrate.‘Me,' Brandy seductively wiggled off my cock. ‘He's my Prince, so I'm his Princess.'‘Oh! Like Disney?' Alondra beamed innocent understanding. ‘That's so cool.'‘Yeah,' Brandy shot me a wink. ‘Like Disney. Here, have a seat and share in the 'magic'.'‘Oh goodie!' the tawny athlete mounted my cock which Brandy was 'kind' enough to hold erect for her. She wasn't tight, but, to be honest, Alondra was snugger than my first time with Brandy; which was a thought I'd take to my grave. Her toes were on the floor, knees off the ground, gymnast's thighs like coiled springs and hands splayed on my chest; she got to bounding up and down.‘Yay!' At least I was making someone definitely happy. When I made eye contact; I; felt for Alondra. She had one; no; two marketable commodities; her exotic good looks and a willingness to work hard. Cheerleading was as much of a demanding sport as basketball. She knew the Cheer Squad's routines, and with her limited intellect, that had to mean she truly applied herself when given the chance.What Alondra needed was good friends; and someone, right now, to fuck her.‘I've never fucked a White guy before,' she blithely informed me. ‘I thought you'd be; smaller.'‘Vlad is full of surprises,' Brandy moved to my side, still smiling.‘Don't let me neglect you, Babe,' I offered. She knew what I was saying and took me up on the suggesting.She made a production of standing over my head, facing Alondra then slowly lowering herself down to my waiting mouth.‘How's he going to breath?' Alondra inquired.‘He's got great lungs,' Brandy answered. My tongue was busy sculpting out her vulva and penetrating her labia.My right hand went around the back to massage a luscious ass cheek and tickler her along her tailbone. Then the left went up and rediscovered her breasts. I could almost hate my Mother for keeping us from sex for so long; almost. To be fair, she'd also helped train us to be aggressive, appreciative and attentive lovers.It wasn't like the BBC Masters didn't do cunnilingus. Some did. The difference was we approached it as a facet of a full-on orgasmic orchestra. It wasn't just licking and sucking that clit, or labia pulling. Depending on the partner, it was spreading your attention along the upper thighs, pubic mound perineum and buttocks.Fingers, lips, tongue, nose and even whiskers could be parts of our arsenals. Keep all your senses focused on your lover as well. A twinge, chance in scent, or a stifled gasp could all be clues to what secretly turned them on. Thankfully for this encounter, I already knew Brandy pretty well and Alondra wasn't overly demanding. She wanted a nice, stiff cock and I gave her that in spades; no pun intended.‘Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck,' Sultana began hissing. Taliyah had done wonders for Mikhail's confidence which rebounded into this pattern of quickly overwhelming whatever mental defenses she tried to put up between him and the climax he wished to tear from her.‘Oh Fuck!' she screamed. Yep. Mom's choice of the sound-proof Music Room was prescient.‘Oh; ‘ she moaned. ‘Wait; ‘‘No way,' Mikhail taunted her. ‘I'm not going to stop until you say you'll only do White boys.' Pretty much a complete race reversal, and cruelly pointless.‘Not going to; Oh Fuck!' she began to caterwaul again. I couldn't see what he was doing, but by the sound of moist slapping, I figured he had advanced to screwing her face-to-face and furiously hard.‘What's going on?' Randi Leigh finally rejoined the gathering.‘He fucked you into transcendence, you silly Cunt,' Taliyah mocked the girl.‘I; ah; it wasn't; ‘ Randi Leigh blathered.‘Don't even try,' Taliyah chuckled.‘By all means,' I could feel Brandy twist her upper body around, ‘if you never want to fuck my guy ever again; ‘‘Or mine,' Taliyah tacked on.‘Any of the Samsonov boys ever again,' Brandy dictated, ‘that's fine by me; us.'‘That's damn right,' Taliyah added.‘Oh; I'm getting all tingly,' Alondra sang out.‘When is it going to be my turn?' I had no doubt Betty Jo was pouting over her exclusion by Mikhail's devotion to Sultana.‘Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck,' became a familiar refrain. ‘Oh Fuck!' and Sultana surrendered another orgasm to my bratty younger triplet. ‘No; ‘ she panted.‘Don't break her,' Taliyah sounded a tad jealous as well as cautionary.‘Say it,' he growled.‘Ah; ‘ was all Sultana could emote.‘Say it,' he remained ferocious. I felt obliged to tap Brandy's thigh. She was closing on her own fruition, but I wasn't sure Sultana had the time.‘Give it a rest,' Alexander protested.Brandy dismounted. Mikhail hadn't relented yet.‘Bro, Alondra's over here; dying for a three-way,' I tried a different approach. I wasn't going to swap out Alondra for Betty Jo; that would be treating the ladies like mix-and-match Legos. Betty Jo was still the only girl-neglected, but I knew from our earlier conversation Mikhail had a special hankering for Alondra; which I couldn't bring up directly without being cruel to Taliyah.Mikhail looked over his shoulder, his body still hovering over the slack form of a sated Sultana. His look was volcanic; primal, fiery;‘We aren't done,' was his parting shot to Sultana. Betty Jo was still on her knees where he'd left her. Mikhail didn't spare her a glance, advancing swiftly to us.Meanwhile;‘I do? I am?' Alondra hiccupped both surprised and happy with 'her' suggestion.For a second I was afraid Mikhail would go directly for a face-fuck. Alondra was certainly set up for it. Instead, at the last second he went in for a deep French kiss full of tongue, mutual nose-breathing and finishing with his teeth pulling playfully on her upper lip.‘I'm bouncing on your brother,' Alondra gleefully, breathlessly and pointlessly related.‘I can see,' he chuckled. My youngest triplet didn't have to be an asshole. ‘I think I'm going to be pouncing on you.'Alondra had no comeback. My bet was she didn't know what 'pounce' meant. Mikhail moved behind the medium-brown beauty. It occurred to me the deeply-tanned Brandy and natural-complexioned Alondra were virtually the same skin color.Otherwise they were different enough. Brandy was a natural blonde. Alondra had kinky, black hair with blonde highlights. One with dark-blue eyes and the other hazel. Alondra was taller by a few inches. Brandy had the larger bust and hips. Alondra's buttocks were accentuated to the top while Brandy's were more balanced hemispheres. I couldn't tell whose smile I liked more.‘I like White boys,' she huffed as a way of greeting Mikhail's transition from 'kisser' to man-boy pressing in behind her. There was no way he was going for her ass without causing her a great deal of pain. He had another idea.‘Seesaw?' he looked over her shoulder. Oh!I put my hands under each of her thighs and lifted her up and forward.‘Eep!' she squeaked followed by ‘Hey; No,' when my cock popped out.‘Here you go,' Mikhail soothed her. In his cock went.‘Oh yeah,' she was immediately mollified.‘Why does she get two of them?' Betty Jo complained.‘Yeah,' Randi Leigh grumbled. ‘Why does she get both of them?'‘Because she asked really, really nice,' Mikhail addressed the others. Brandy shot me a curious look. Since she had her back to the others I felt it was safe to share my own confusion.‘When did that happen?' Taliyah pseudo-teased 'us'.At the same time, Alondra rocked forward. When she settled back, it was my cock inside her once more. Taliyah had gotten dual-vaginal and anal after we had 'prepped' her.‘We're telepathic,' Mikhail responded. Alondra didn't care.‘You'd better not be,' Taliyah muttered.Yeah, we had to do something about this. The next time we switched back, I pulled myself further up and away from Alondra. Mikhail picked up on my clues and went to regular doggy-style, his back pressing on hers, his left arm supporting his weight while his right reached under and began to manipulate her clit between two of his fingers in a tender, circular motion.‘Ah-ah-ah Shit!,' Misty Dawn announced her own eruption to all of us. It turned out she and Alexander shared their 'moment'; their synergy further multiplying their sensory overload.I had barely moved into a kneeling position in front of Alondra. We kissed which left me rather unprepared for;‘Now it's my turn,' Betty Jo pushed Brandy aside in her rush to grapple with me. Oh Joy!Mom and Dominique.‘Ms. Malik, there is a Mrs. Samsonov here to see you,' Riley buzzed Madam Mayor. Dominique bit down on her anger; and fear. Chinedu had been so plastered, he couldn't properly remember the events of the previous evening clearly and Taliyah hadn't felt the need to remind him. None of that erased the feel of the middle Samsonov boy's; everything, or the wrongness of those actions.Chief of Police Quinterre had yet to slither through her doorway, though that was something she had to prepare for. The beating Alexander (she wasn't fooled by whatever deception Gayle Fonteneau/Samsonov had perpetrated) took at school had been both troubling and welcome; since it served as a major distraction to 'that night'.Darius'; destruction had been a peal of thunder after Alexander's beating. Now the Arkansas State Police were nosing around and her 'mole' inside the Davis County Sheriff's Department had become reticent to supply her with useful information.‘Tell Mrs. Samsonov I don't have room in my schedule today. Perhaps she can avail herself of our city's website, or attempt an e-mail,' Dom answered.‘She says she'll wait,' Riley replied.'Ah shit; that bitch'; ‘Fine. I will give her five minutes in; thirty.'‘Yes Ma'am,' Riley sang out.Dominique frowned. Riley appeared 'upbeat'. Which black snake was pounding her fat ass and cunt now? Damn it; one more unexpected headache. Thirty minutes rolled around and Gayle hadn't departed like any sane individual would, so Riley showed her in.‘Riley, you can go,' Dom dismissed her White 'Political Assistant'.Riley kept smiling like a fool.‘Yes Ms. Malik,' the girl nodded.‘See you this evening, Riley,' Gayle smiled. Riley's smile deepened into something definitely sensual. Dominique was going to have to school her Jew Ass again. Spending time with Gayle Fonteneau was the opposite of helping out.‘Hi Dom,' Gayle settled into the seat across from Dominique.‘Call me Madam Mayor,' Dom bit back. ‘What do you want?' Gayle's grin turned into a vicious leer. ‘And leave Riley alone, damn you.'‘I was curious if Chinedu's sagging black ball sack has become a suitably dark shade of blue; I see from the look of his two main whores, they have,' Gayle chuckled.‘Bitch,' Dom seethed. ‘What do you; think you have on me?'‘Not a damn thing,' Gayle kept chortling. Dom was more convinced than ever the evil harlot had lost her damn mind. ‘Welcome to dealing with decent human beings, Dom. My boys didn't tell me a fucking thing. They certainly didn't gather any footage of supposed misdeeds.'Dom processed what she was and wasn't being told.<

In this episode of Late Night with Sylvester, I get real about the art of the nude – specifically, why some men aren't getting it right.

Of Funerals and Families; Part Two. In 25 parts, edited from the works of FinalStand. Listen and subscribe to the ► Podcast at Connected.. “Birthed by stars, in immortal light, so why do we assume we pass into Darkness.” A maniac conducted the orchestra, while every section fought for dominance without a thought to the opera unfolding under its twittering cacophony. That is how it felt as I steeled myself for the service, but my musings were a fantasy. I had a swirling company of my twenty inductees, two Amazons, plus Rachel's detail and Esmeralda coordinating all the traffic. Pamela was absent. Buffy was the one in charge, deciding who got how close and under what level of scrutiny. The presence of law enforcement was made obvious by our vigilance, with mutual hostility being declared. The government was catching up with how they'd been screwed over. They couldn't prove a thing yet, although they had missed an entire day trailing after me. They also had new leadership. Pamela had expelled Theodora with the simple application of Conflict of Interest. Nicole and Pratt had joined me in my suite, so I was suitably armored when the Feds made their next run at me. I had stepped up in the world, so I was rewarded with a new attack plan. Her name was Assistant Federal District Attorney Javiera Castello, and two seconds of eye contact made precisely transparent what a hurricane she was going to bring to my life. Sex? Oh yeah, she was already figuring what penitentiary to send me to so she could make monthly visits. An impressive dicking wasn't going to save me this time. She was professional, polite and courteous concerning my mourning without being false. Theodora's strategy assumed I was the man who graduated from Bolingbrook a few months back. My history was clear and muddy enough to be real. I was what my documentation said I was; until Havenstone. Theodora had waved the flags and charged the barricades only to discover too late that my defenses weren't manned by a lone yahoo with a bow and arrow, but with mortars and machineguns and her troops had been scattered, her plans shredded. Javiera had my measure now. I was a Prince. Of what, she didn't know yet. She was going to find out. Not out of some fatalistic curiosity, but because that's where the bread crumbs led. Dad was what he appeared to be, that plot of land was relatively worthless and two groups of professional killers had fought and died dragging my father either away, or to safety. I work with some scary-smart ladies. "Ms. Castello, would you care to travel with me to the service?" I turned to her at the last moment. I was a clever puppy, good with women and I wasn't trying to be a politician. Javiera took my gesture for what it was; an olive branch. I was offering to be less of an obstructionist, and she was willing to forgo retribution for my earlier stunts. Five minutes down the road in the stretch limo, I could see the question eating Javiera up inside. She was honoring my melancholy; I could almost hear Dad saying, 'Son, you have company' as a persistent reminder to his petulant teenage slacker that I was a member of the Human Equation. "What do you want to ask me?" I gathered my civility to the fore. Nicole shifted so that we were making eye contact. "Is there a limit to how many questions?" she started off with. I didn't say 'One and that was it'. "I've been told it will take us thirty-two minutes to the cemetery," I looked at my watch. "That gives us; twenty-six minutes," I offered. "Why all the hostility?" led the charge. "A variety of people consider my life to have some value. For a few it is personal. For most, they attach a more esoteric price tag on my existence," I replied. "That is vague enough to be useless," she gently scolded me. Oh, I could see that both Javiera and Nicole were about to play Nutcracker with my heritage until it was the consistency of warm peanut butter. "I am the member of not one, but two secret societies," I kept steady eye contact with her. Yes; there was that look I was slowly becoming accustomed to; that one that conveyed 'what you said made no sense, so why aren't you lying to me?' "Which ones?" Javiera rebounded quickly. "Perhaps we should discuss this at a later time," Nicole reposed. "Nicole," I patted her knee, "how would you feel if you got Javiera murdered?" "That thought shouldn't even be;” she stated. "Nicole, I'm worried enough about you. People know I like you, so they may not kill you for looking in the wrong trash bin," I explained. "She doesn't even have that rather tenuous screen." "Was it one, or both secret societies that shot and killed your father?" Javier continued. "Without a doubt it was an accident. The all-female group was simply scouting the location out as part of forming a contingency plan," I said. "The other group showed up to kidnap my father to interrogate him; I'm not going to tell you why." "The first group identified themselves and the second group began shooting. In the process of grabbing my father, they shot him three times. In the process of taking him to one of their cars, the living lady engaged them in a final firefight. They abandoned my father and left." "You seem to know a great deal about what happened," Javiera noted. "I've seen the footage the first group took from their helmet cams," I told her. "Is there any way I could see that?" she prodded. "By no human means I can think of," I shrugged. "Feel free to ask that extremely venomous lady sitting next to you. Her name is Rachel," I made the introduction. "She remains under the impression that killing people around me will somehow save me from myself," I added. "I not only trust her, I trust her with the lives of my daughters." "You don't have any children we are aware of," Javiera wondered. "Rachel knows what I mean," I gave a lopsided grin. Rachel knew alright. I wasn't asking her to save me with that statement. I was asking her to save my future. "What is with all the women? I'm a believer in gender equality. You seem to lack any male employees, period. Is this a permutation of a harem?" Javier opened another line of investigation. Rachel and Buffy quickly snorted their amusement then returned to their not-so-subtle aggression. I was sure my chauffeur, Tiger Lily, was snickering it up too, beyond the glass. Sigh. "That was uncalled for," I frowned at the Fed. "Five Google searches and you should know all about Havenstone's hiring practices. Ask what you want to ask. Don't try to trick me. I am definitely not in the mood." "Why are you in charge; a male over Havenstone employees that certainly have more skill and experience at; just about everything?" Javiera came clean. "Put on your hip-waders," I groaned. "This is going to suck." I waited until I had her undivided attention. "A long time ago, I killed a group of really bad people," I grunted. I could see that she wasn't buying it despite her interrogation senses saying I was being truthful. "When I say a long time ago, I mean about 2500 years ago." Sigh. "Before you start tossing Thorazine at me, all you need to accept is that every one of those women around me believes that to be true." "So this is a cult?" Javiera inquired bravely. "Put it this way. I'm sure you practice a martial art of some kind. You probably have a chromatic belt that you are rather proud of. It will not help you. These women are professional killers. I'm pretty sure there are a dozen unidentified corpses that could be attributed to these two." I already knew that Buffy killed some guys. Rachel? She was a team leader, so I was willing to have faith in her ability to remorselessly end another person's life. Javiera must have volunteered for my personal fiasco. "Are you being held against your will?" she looked so vigilant and intent. "I can get you out." "No," a dry chuckle. "I'm; not good; getting by. There is no way in Hell I'm leaving Havenstone. I can hardly kill all the people responsible for my father's death if I did that." "If you seek personal vengeance, I will be forced to bring every legal power to bear to stop you," she felt bound to threaten me. "Don't stop being you on my account, Ms. Castello," I finally managed a smile. It was sincere and Javiera knew it. "Who? Maybe I can catch them before you do?" she offered me an escape clause. "You will know it when you see it," I took a deep breath. "Do not try anything at the funeral," she warned me. "Law enforcement will be all over the place." She really wanted to screw me in prison. I knew those things. "I'm not going to kill them there," I assured her. "They will be the ones running for their lives though." "How is that going to work?" Nicole finally broke my silence. "I have 27 ladies willing to kill on my command," I exaggerated. "When I tell those men I know they were responsible and that they should run for their lives, they are going to run for their lousy stinking lives." "But you are not going to give the order to have them killed," Javiera stated. She was getting my measure now. "No, but they don't know that and being horrible human beings, they will assume that I will have them murdered over my father's grave," I turned positively wolfish. "They will run and they will keep running because of you and yours, Javiera. They won't have guns because they don't want to be arrested," I finished. "Why are they afraid to be arrested?" Javiera was putting the puzzle together. That was our deal after all. "I can have repeated, heavenly sex on a train with a nun," I confessed. "I'm pretty sure I can arrange to have a scumbag killed in prison." "I think we can both agree my client is under a great deal of stress at this time," Nicole intervened. "I think we can agree your client is not Al Capone, much less Osama bin Laden," Javiera allowed. "I still think he is exceedingly dangerous." "Dangerous? Dangerous is dating in this town," I groaned. "Went out late last night to a dance club, met two sweet girls visiting the Windy City, stepped outside and they tried to kill me." "Do these two count as 'public'?" Buffy snarled. She meant Javiera and Nicole. Pratt was in another car and the only others with us were Rachel and me. This was going to hurt. "No," I sighed. Wham! The Charlie Horse from Hell! "That's why you have bodyguards, you jerk," Buffy nearly cried. "Ah; we were with him," Rachel tapped Buffy's upper arm. "Oh." Long pause. "I; I apologize," Buffy said sheepishly. "I had no idea you were getting smarter." That was probably the best apology I was going to get. It was still my fault. "You do it out of love, Buffy," I rubbed my arm. Buffy gave me a heartbreaking smile. "Was that domestic violence, or assault?" Javiera snarled. "Neither one is allowable under Illinois law." "It is a Human Resources Team-building tool," I lied. "In some places it is called Obedience Training, or Negative Reinforcement." "I have never seen another human being take a beating like Cáel can," Rachel complimented me. "He is also incredible in the bed room," Buffy added on. Javier didn't know what to make of the menagerie of 'not-normal' women who hung around me. She locked eyes with Buffy. "I mean Really fantastic," Buffy licked her lips. Nicole nodded in agreement. "I can't use any of this," Javiera muttered after several minute of silence. "It is all a type of shared delusion; with fourteen dead bodies attached to it." "Ah, the guy with both femoral arteries shot out made it? Whoa, we've got some top notch surgeons in this city," I nodded. "Yes. As opposed to those two men who had their heads shot off," Javiera added bitterly. Reminding her that poor Horace of the Burnham PD had done the deeds was pointless. "Who died?" I attempted some reciprocity from Javiera. She'd read through every public aspect of my life and had talked to me for less than ten minutes. She excelled at her craft; punishing lawbreakers. "I conclude you know the name of the three dead women and the one living one," she began, "because we haven't a clue who they really are. Their cover identities aren't perfect. We simply can't get anything about them behind the fallacy of their existence." She waited. "If you can help us put the wounded woman in some sort of shared protective custody, I can probably 'suggest' that she be more cooperative," I counter-offered. Rachel nodded. "The eight other bodies at the house;” Javiera shook her head. "Four were dead and by that I mean reported dead from four to nine years ago. The rest; Hell, they were all twisted fucking savages. Every one of them had Interpol warrants out for them, for questioning. No accusations seemed to stick to them: misplaced evidence, dead witnesses and falsified death certificates." "Does this mean anything to you?" Javiera paused to get some more information. "Yes. Reference the men running for their lives," I nodded. "Cáel?" Rachel cautioned me. "This is not something you can rush into." "Actually, it was you who clued me in, Rachel," I looked at her. "Given an opportunity to have only one gun of a given type, would you choose one you knew intimately, or a totally random one?" was my rhetorical question. Professionals trained with a large variety of weapons, yet every Amazon I had met had a preferred weapon; one that if they could have it with them, they would. "The Zastava M2," Rachel nodded. "It is not used in too many places and only Peru in this hemisphere. Someone really loved that gun; enough to bring it from whatever killing field where he was currently employed to my home," I said. "Since the other likely culprit passed on a chance to kill me last night, I am sure enough to pick a fight." (Holy Cross) It had to be odd in so many ways for the people who knew Dad and, to a lesser extent, me. They gathered by the graveside. It wasn't much. Dad had been cremated as had Mom. They had these small granite markers; no headstones for them. They had been so much in love. All they wanted is to be laid to rest, side by side. Mom had insisted on cremation. I thought I knew why, but it had done no good. The true oddity was obvious. The islet of normalcy was the small funerary party with me. My Aunt; my Father's Sister; was here and somewhat in shock. She and Dad hadn't been close; so much unsaid. When my Grandparents died, Dad was only nineteen and Stella was sixteen. Stella's lifelong friend had moved to Maryland a few months previously. Stella reached out to her friend, her friend's parents talked to Dad and Stella went to off to be a mariner. Seeing her occasionally as I was growing up was the extent of our relationship. The priest did his thing. I wondered what Christ thought of this mystic fur ball that was the amalgam of my life. My hope was that he was quietly urging me to do the right thing. The Padre finished, the co-workers and neighbors came by to give their condolences and then ran the gauntlet. The gauntlet? Yes, the herd of Amazons, O'Shea kin and four other clumps of people who I didn't know, yet undoubtedly would soon. Selena and Miyako were present along with a third female who looked luscious in a burqa-shaped covering and a diaphanous veil. Javiera, Pratt and Nicole were somewhat out of place with their lack of arrogant lethality. A limo driver came to take Stella away. "I have some issues to deal with, Aunt Stella," I comforted her. "Vér a vér." It had been ages since she'd heard Hungarian so she wasn't sure what I meant, but she knew it was bad. One of my O'Shea aunts was coming my way until the menace of the closing Amazons halted her. The others had no clue what they were about to behold. I doubt outsiders had ever been privileged to witness anything like it. This was a declaration; it was my mission statement. Ishara did not hide. I took off my coat, folded it, placed it on the damp grass then knelt on it. Buffy stepped up with the bowl of incense and followed my 'coat to keep your knees clean' stunt, sitting perpendicular on my right. Helena followed suit on my left, placing a shroud over my head and leaned over the bowl. Gamble number one: the incense lit up instantly. Gamble number two: it really did burn my eyes; no more Desiree slapping me around. I was sure she'd be heartbroken. Gamble number three: while using my nifty little Amazon blade to gather my tears, I managed not to cut myself. The inductees were much more impressed when they realized what I was doing under my head covering. The next step had me pulling back the shroud, standing up, and striding over the burning bowl of incense. Helena called out the first name. The lady didn't need any prodding. The Amazon walked over to my coat and knelt. Helena wrote down her name and handed her the slip of paper. My Keeper motioned to the bowl. The first applicant placed her named slip of paper on the embers. The simple message flashed up and was consumed. That was unlooked for. I declared her old self dead. With my tears, I opened her eyes to our ancestral history and with blood, I brought her into our future. She had entered House Ishara. She wasn't the only one crying either. What Rachel and her team thought was unknown to me. They were being hyper-vigilant. Esmeralda kept stealing glances our way. Things went along with joyous solemnity until the fourteenth woman, Alicia, knelt before me. Helena handed the paper over, the Amazon dropped it on the incense and nothing happened. I was about to move on to the next part of the ritual when I caught sight of that. Buffy, Helena and the lady were all staring at the offending bit of tinder. I bent over and, with my index finger, pushed it into the embers. Nothing; no heat, or fiery consumption. I put some spit on my finger and pushed again. This time it burned me. The paper was fine. Damn it; 'Come on Ishara!' I screamed mentally. 'Can't I have a simple bit of theater without you mangling someone's dreams?' There was no supernatural scolding, or retort. "Alicia, Ishara believes you have not yet finished your walk outside our House," I consoled the woman; Alicia Holt. As she stood up, faced gripped with disbelief, Buffy rose and took her away. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Alicia shoot me a poisonous look. Buffy had anticipated this and was making sure the woman didn't make a scene. The last six women were even more nervous than the previous thirteen. Thankfully, Ishara was accepting of the remainder and we all transited to the group celebratory hug. Act one has passed safely, Act two had an unexpected bump and here came round three. The 'dignitaries' started swooping in. Outside of the O'Shea's, none of the guests wanted to have another group behind them, or hemming in them. Two of the groups held back and since one was composed entirely of Asians, I was betting the other group was the Egyptian Rite. One of my now four aunts came forward. My small crowd of Isharans gave her barely enough room to approach the grave. She placed a green rose upon my Mother's small marble marker. I wondered what my Mother would have thought of her sisters finally finding her; green rose? Who made green; probably the same sick son of a bitch who made female clones of himself? The other three followed suit, placing the roses in a radiating sunburst on the small piece of marble. Through the wall of Illuminati security came; the Missing Link. Oh My God. I had heard of V-chested males, but this was insane. I swear his upper arms were as big as my thighs. The problem was the hips and legs of the body didn't match-up to the torso, arms, neck (or lack thereof) and shoulders. The upper, steroid-addicted half belonged to a two meter tall giant. The lower half belonged to, maybe, a subpar man of a meter and a half This monster didn't have a receding hairline (actually, he did); he had a receding forehead. In homo-sapiens, if you roll a marble off their heads, it drops and hits the eyebrows. On this guy, it was a gentle ski-slope all the way down. "This is your Uncle Carrig," Brianna; I thought it was Brianna; made the introductions. I dialed up my Irish. Carrig meant; meant; 'rock'. Not 'the Rock' as in Dwayne Johnson. No, it meant 'rock' as in 'lump'. I had an Uncle Lumpy. How the fuck was I going to explain this at the next high school reunion? The answer was obvious. I'd parade out my four lava-stoked volcanic aunt-hotties and no one would be able to see old Uncle Lumpy over their sexual radiance. Perhaps being created in the form of a disfigured Neanderthal made Lumpy furious with the world. That might be why he wanted Grandpa to stay dead. Maybe; oh hell, Lumpy had serious family issues, as in he wanted to hump my aunts who only wanted to hump me. "Hello Uncle Carrig," I started out. "Thank you for; " "Shut up," he sneered. "I came here to see your whore of a mother one last time, not listen to your prattle." "Carrig, don't," Fiona intervened. "He is family." He took a deep breath. "I know why all of you want him in the Family," he snarled at his sisters. "Behave, or leave," I relayed in a far calmer voice than I felt. "I'll leave when I'm good and ready," Carrig turned his hate back on me. He put a finger to his nose and cleared his sinuses. The resulting sputum he launched at my Mother's tiny rock reminder was dead-on the money, gooey, white and full of phlegm. I looked at that defilement. This red-hot poker of rage seared through my mind. Instead, I laughed. It started as a stuttered utterance but grew and grew into a rich, resounding conquest of death and despair. "Wow, Unc; that was kind of pathetic," I chuckled. "It is impossible to imagine you ever breathed the same air, much less hold any genetic resemblance, to the greatest criminal mastermind of the past millennia. Seriously, spitting on a piece of stone was the most your orangutan-like, sloped-headed pea brain could come up with?" "After that (cough) brilliant bit of diplomacy, he's probably glad he's still dead and didn't have to witness your infantile blunder," I added. He was getting pissed; torn between his desires to pummel me, rip me to shreds, or storm off like a raging King Kong. "You know, when they killed Grandpa, they told me he made a noise like a stuck pig," I mirthfully met his hateful glare. "For a moment, they thought they'd killed the wrong man." "They suspected you and Granddad were in the next chamber, him ramming you up your sissy-ass for the umpteenth time because you are nothing but a ball-less wonder of a cast-off eunuch," I kept taunting him. "Then they recalled that you always squealed like a piglet, not a full grown boar, so they completed their mission and left," I refused to flinch before his vile hatred. "You think you are funny?" he leaned in and hissed. "I think you need a breath mint; and I am hilarious," I grinned. "I also think I'm the son Granddad always wanted, not you." That was me being mean; really mean. "We are not done," his eyes narrowed. "Take your pulse," I mocked him. "When it stops, we are finished. Until then, brush, use mouthwash and floss between meals. Your halitosis is truly offensive and worse, I think you are aware of it, yet still you refuse to respect other people's personal boundaries." "We should go brother," Deidre beckoned. She couldn't hide her amusement at his discomfort and humiliation. Uncle Carrig pivoted and back-handed her. Deidre went flying, but my idiot kinsman didn't have long to savor his win. I hit him with two lightning blows. My first thought was that I had dislocated a few of my fingers from hitting his jaw. Wasn't there a Bond villain like that? Carrig turned on me, a feral fury brimming just beneath the surface. "That's a breach, you cocky, snot-nosed punk," he sneered. Mass carnage was in the offing. "You remain painfully ignorant, Uncle Carrig," I took a half-step back. "Take your punishment now, or later," he coughed. "It makes no difference to me." "First off, Carrig, timing should be a poignant concern. Second, you have only now expended a great deal of your meager brain power convincing everyone here we are related; kin; O'Shea's," I explained. "Also, can I have my knife back?" "Knife?" he blinked suspiciously. "Yeah, the knife I left in your chest," I pointed. I said I hit him twice. Uncle Lumpy looked down and, sure enough, my handy little 10 cm blade was between his second and third rib on the right side. I hadn't wanted to kill him. I had wanted to hurt him and apparently failed at that; while sticking a blade almost up to the handle (Amazon personal blades have no hilt) into him; "What; how?" Lumpy was slowly clueing in that he might be in some trouble. "Brother," Brianna stepped up; shooting me a sultry, 'bend me over the closest headstone and bang me like your Goth prom date' look. I actually didn't go to my prom, Goth chicks are fun and Brianna didn't have panties on. Trust me; I have ESP concerning such things. Of more immediate concern; "Carrig, don't pull out the knife," she placed herself between us, facing him. "You will bleed all over the place." "I'm about to ram it down his ass through his throat," he snarled, clearly educationally challenged. I'd left the blade there for that very reason; not have him fountain blood all over the gravesite. "How long is the blade?" Brianna asked me. She already knew the answer. "10 cm," I was polite, "as is the knife every other Amazon carries." "Reach around and pull out the blade when I tell you," Brianna requested. "I will keep pressure on the wound." I had serious doubts she had an MD associated with her name which meant she knew something I didn't. I also had a more pressing conundrum. Per instructions, I was about to be pressing against Brianna's backside with the added benefit of a free hand. "So, do you want me to pat them, or give them a good rub?" I whispered to Brianna. I'd let he decide what treatment her ass was about to receive. "I figure if I reach around and massage your breasts, Carrig will lose it." "Cáel, take a firm hold. Be doubly sure you are ready before we begin," Brianna instructed. It wasn't the Di Vinci Code, but Carrig wasn't about to conquer a Denny's Kid's Menu (it has little games on it) anytime soon either. Brianna wanted double penetration and, in the name of renewing family relations and my inability to resist any available woman for more than a few days, I complied. Then the horror came crashing in; I hadn't had sex all day and it was almost 10 am. "Don't move, Uncle," I cautioned him. I used those words to conceal the sound of Brianna's skirt zipper going down. I used my other hand to gingerly grab my weapon; the knife; jeesh. Brianna spread her legs wider so that the tension kept her apparel from slipping down. My free hand went inside and got to work. Fortunately, Brianna's hands pressing above and below the wound distracted Carrig from her cute, precious whimpering noises. I must be a total dick. I was stroking my aunt/clone mother with two fingers and teasing her bunghole with my thumb while pulling a knife from my uncle's chest. What is wrong with me? For that matter, Ishara could stymie the ambitions of some poor 'Runner', yet decided her prime minion doing this was a good thing? I work for some screwed up people; dead and alive. "Okay, I'm about to do it," I warned them both. Brianna was kind enough to roll her hips forward and ass up for more direct access. The blade came out, two fingers thrust into her depths, Carrig grunted more in annoyance than any physical distraction and Brianna gasped with piteous need. Before Carrig could start to connect A to B to C, I withdrew my fingers and zipped Brianna up. As I started to withdraw, Brianna acted like my loins were velcroed to her posterior. "Bad Girl," I quietly gave her a risqué reproach. She let me go. Then it hit me like a meteor; I had caused Brianna to orgasm, and hard, with one touch. In fact, she was still roughly riding through it. The mental discipline needed to mask her arousal was impressive. She had no control over her aromatic qualities, Lumpy's nostrils were working fine and his hateful, beady rodent-like eyes latched back on me. "I'm going to kill you," he screamed. Carrig definitely wanted to screw his sisters and they had certainly been denying him. I was curious how that had been accomplished. As he shoved Brianna aside, my suspicion about the seriousness of my wound to his chest was confirmed. I hadn't punched through his heavy corded muscle tissue; with a 10 cm blade. Fuck a duck. If Uncle Carrig got those horrifically huge paws of his on me, I'd be paper-mâché in a hurricane; turned into veal; the very tenderized kind. That wasn't going to happen because of a little factor called crowd density. Most notably, he was in the midst of a passel of Amazons invested in my well-being. A sliver of the O'Shea family dynamic took hold. As usual, it sucked to be me. The four O'Shea ladies rallied around Carrig, cautiously pulled him back then ushered him into the steely embrace of their security. Why did that mean it sucked to be me? In a momentary visual exchange, I understood what Lumpy instinctually sensed when he showed up today. His reign as the place-holder for me was coming to an end. The second my Aunts recruited me over to their side, he was a goner. Obviously they had all the real intellect on that side of the clan. Poor Lumpy merely stomped around and acted like the socially maladjusted homicidal maniac he was. Once the journey to Grandpa's house began, he would cease to have any value whatsoever. Behind his animalistic, dull eyes, we shared that. Tragically, but most likely by design, Carrig couldn't develop a new set of skills to adapt to the situation. The best example I could come up with was; Imagine the last of the super-large amphibious predators confronting the first of the true dinosaur apex carnivores. Somewhere in that tiny amphibian brain, it knew it was screwed. Evolution simply hadn't left it an 'out'. It couldn't get bigger, faster, or more ferocious. It had maxxed out those traits for that model. Nope, it was toast and nothing could save it. As I processed that, the rest of that train of thought came tumbling down. Lumpy was a dead man. He'd hit one of his sisters in front of me which was precisely what they wanted. Deidre hadn't come by my place on Monday to warn me that Uncle Blockhead was trying to kill me. She was prepping me for the knowledge that they had killed Lumpy; to save me. Those incestuous nightmares had trotted Uncle Carrig out like a Barnum  and  Bailey Sasquatch, to loud acclaim and fanfare. Before I could do some in depth research/check to see if this was the 'real' Sasquatch, he would vanish aka be killed to save me. Well played ladies. They should have taken into account I worked for Katrina Love. Katrina undoubtedly played three-dimensional chess on-line so she could lure out the true Vulcans trapped on Earth. My aunts' straw man wasn't going to cut it. Back to the reality that included my father never again enjoying my meandering thoughts over dinner. Back to the other curious 'real' players as they moved in, having soaked up my ceremony and our O'Shea family struggle. If there as a benefit in that misadventure, it was the look on the faces of the two most distant groups. The ambassadors had on their poker faces. I was two decades away from having a chance of deciphering them. Foolish mortals, both groups had brought women with them though. That was not to imply that women can't keep secrets; they are among the experts. It wasn't secrets they were defending though; it was the interaction between Brianna and me that opened them up. If you are a woman and you see a man bring a different woman to orgasm with his fingers in under ten seconds and you are NOT intrigued, you have been sexually neutered. Even if you are a lesbian, you want your lover to pick up that technique. From the level of interest coming my way, I could tell what their bosses/associates really thought of me. The lady who was already thinking how to pull me aside at the reception was also projecting that I had piqued her co-workers, despite their feigned disinterest. The one who was plotting out how to disguise herself as a maid, so she could hide in my bathroom closet until I came in for a shower this evening. Then the feigned interrogation/instructional demonstration could begin, which told me they had chosen to not leave Chicago today despite previous travel plans. The three assholes won the social dare contest and approached me next. They were cool, somewhat disdainful and not a party to the murderous program that led us here today. They were still Condotteiri, thus my enemies and slayers of my Dad. "Mr. Nyilas," a smooth talking Canadian male began, "I wish to pass on the condolences of; " "I know it was you," I broke in. The Canadian; Ottawa, I thought; stopped talking, allowing me to vent. "You killed my father, you fucks. Now here is your 'I got drunk and stuck my cock in a meat grinder only to discover some other moron plugged it in' bullet to the brain. I am not only Cáel Nyilas, I am Cáel Ishara and Cáel, grandson of Cáel O'Shea," I narrowed my vision to menacing slits. "I will let you figure out which Goddess is Ishara as well as the convoluted genetics that has resurrected male Amazons. I want you to know that my father was the Head of House Ishara. You killed a Factor of the Illuminati, the 'Voice' of one of the Nine Clans, one of your own Generals, a Grand Master of the Egyptian Rite, a Ba Wang of the 7 Pillars, or a Chosen Son or Daughter, of Earth  and  Sky "That's right," I let the fear sink in. "This goes beyond a breach, Dumbass. You BROKE the Truce and have ended the Protocols by killing an Amazon leader. I'm sure claims of ignorance by your Generals will be taken for the empty blathering they are. It is time for your blood to soak the sacred soil of my father's place of entombment." Having buried him and his two cohorts in a rockslide of truth, my final bluff passed unrevealed for the empty threat it was. I could see by the looks in their eyes. Amazons didn't care about law enforcement. They would kill those three, vanish into the surrounds then slink back to their secret compounds. It was how the Condotteiri thought Amazon's worked. "Or," I grumbled, "Are you going to make me and my sisters hunt you down and work for it. Killing you with our knives is going to be;” I was saying when their retreat began. I was going to say 'messy'. Those three took a half-dozen steps back then ran for it. Now the stage was fully set. The three members of the Nine Clans came next. I took a totally different tone. Selena stepped up to speak, bowing as she started to speak. "We wish;” she started. There was a lot of interrupting going on today. "Please do not bow to me," I requested softly. "We have fought and it seems inappropriate to me that, without there being a martial decision, we cannot be sure who should be more respectful to whom," I suggested. Selena quickly switched gears. She and her two female companions were now openly staring at me. "My Sith Lady is most likely preparing for trouble at my most vulnerable point," I told Selena. "I'm much more trouble than I first appear," I added. A hiccup in the conversation took place. "You are the male Head of an Amazon House; how?" Selena questioned. "My father and the fathers before him carried the genes of the original Ishara. When Her daughters died out, the legacy fell to me," I explained. Really smart girls; really, really smart girls. "You do not have any daughters, so your first born daughter will be the next Head of your House," the Hashashin noted quickly. "Of any line?" Ah, the siren call of 'please have unprotected sex with me, Mr. Studmuffin. Not only will I walk bow-legged for a week afterwards, I'll have a political tool to use for a lifetime.' "Yes, that is true. Please understand, unless you can catch a thrown tomahawk with your feet, I can't say you are at the top of the list," I sighed. "Speaking of the acrobat of my dreams, how are you doing Miyako?" I knocked away at the barrier between our respective groups. I could hardly be considered an Amazon if I wasn't stacking the odds against the Condotteiri, now could I? On came that child-like Nipponese girl's smile that made me want to double-check her ID for proof of age. "It is recovering nicely. Thank you, Ishara-sama," she smiled warmly. "May I see?" I inquired. Miyako nodded so I went down until I was balanced on the balls of my feet. She deftly slipped out of one of her shoes, placed her foot on my knee then began rolling up the pants leg until the bandage was revealed. In the past few hours my medical knowledge had not increased one iota. I was pretty sure that Miyako knew what this doctor's visit was really all about. I gently massaged her leg from ankle to knee, examining it for flaws and weaknesses. I received some manna from Heaven when I stumbled upon a muscle spasm in her foot arch. I worked it out in under thirty seconds and she gave me a musical murmur of relief when I was done. I put her shoe back on and rolled down her trouser leg. "I would still like you to see our medic if you could spare the half-hour," I offered as I stood. "If it would ease any misconceptions about our first encounter, I will do it," Miyako changed her mind from last night. My next neural misfire was 'Did I pack enough condoms to do all these girls I've been promising to fuck since I got here?' "Estere Abed," the thinly-veiled applicant to be the mother of my first child introduced herself. I was at my father's funeral, I'd been hit with the realization that my incestuous aunts are going to emasculate the uncle I'd just met before they kill him, and I was talking to a woman with skin the color of well-seasoned Oak, eyes as dark as expresso-roasted coffee beans (so deeply brown they were almost black), a pale turquoise, virtually transparent pretend-burqa, with inner, skimpy clothing bits keeping her barely street-legal and visualizing what our daughter would look like. "I am of Kurdish extraction," she lowered her head minutely. Ding-ding-ding-ding-ding! Not only was a-bed something I was seriously considering with this woman, Estere was a Kurdish name of Old Persian extraction. It meant Ishtar; who was the advanced incarnation of Ishara. Bitch; aimed up at my Matron Goddess and Ancestral Mother turned Dominatrixes of my soul. "How; how mystically convergent that is," I grumbled. "I apologize. Me and my matron Ball-buster are exchanging psychic barbs at the moment. Had you somehow predicted this would have happened, I would be happier. With my luck though, this is accidental from the perspective of the mortal plane, thus a point of incredible annoyance to me right now." "Do you often talk to your ancestors?" Estere inquired politely. "Only after I've done something bad," I groaned. "Usually my Goddess is short on instructions yet always ready with 'I told you so'." "How can she chastise you for doing wrong if she fails to give you direction?" Estere was so sincere. I had to keep in mind she was a professional librarian with the nasty habit of misfiling people's lives. "I can tell you don't deal with the Spirit World much," I gave a sad grin. "The last time she gave me a prod, I was staring down a life sentence in a dog cage; after I was condemned, not before." "You escaped," she reminded me with a sparkle. I gave a harsh laugh. "No; no, I didn't," I said. "I'll prove it." I lashed out at Estere. She turned my strike aside and was about to do something I assumed would be unfortunate for me when she restrained herself. "See, Estere, you've been doing this most of your life. I'm a college kid who had a good fortune to meet and be guided by a series of stellar women." She nodded. She didn't understand yet she wanted to remain sympathetic. "I'm playing catch up in an incredibly lethal chess match," I continued. "My advantage is I'm not fuck-nuts crazy like the rest of you people. I don't mean to insult you. I simply want to make it clear how I feel. All the societies are spiritually malformed blights on reality; evil, twisted and predatory." "But you like us," she observed. "I'm going to Hell," I risked much by brushing her nose with my finger from brow to the edge of the veil. "I might as well enjoy the journey." Since I returned with all the fingers I started out with, I could tell she appreciated my caress. Our other guests were getting restless, so I had to end our interaction there. A lone man approached. He looked to be a Turkish/Mongolian mixture and he was uncomfortable with the way the situation had developed. I doubt I had offended him. It was much more the scope of this informal meeting had gone way above his pay grade. As he was from the Earth  and  Sky, the Amazons' hostility simmered. I countered that by being as civil as possible. The emissary, Iskender, gave his condolences, I thanked him for his respect and entered into a small conversation. When he figured out who the Magyar were, he smiled. Iskender was a Kyrgyz, a Turkish people from Central Asia, and we bonded over our male progenitors having saddled up on our nomad ponies, making Eurasia tremble. I was putting forth the effort to make him feel welcome. That was the message for him to take home. Not all the Amazons were going to have their knee-jerk reaction to the E and S's goal. Next came the Seven Pillars, mainly because the Egyptians seemed ready to wait for the grass to devour them before coming my way. Now I had to pillage the vaults of my crafty interpersonal skills to do this correctly. Two men, endowed with as much racial supremacy as Ursula, if not more, introduced themselves. Slight bowing, polite English and the proper, rehearsed words flowed from their mouths. They didn't look down on me; the reason being that behind their perfect civility, they considered me and mine to be inconsequential. The nice female of an indeterminate South Asian lineage had that haunted look of someone made to do horrible things just to survive. A flash of the macabre dumped a memory of her strangling homeless people in some back alleys with barbed wire; so it would hurt them both; training, Seven Pillars style. "Thank you for paying your respects at my father's grave," I started. They hadn't, btw. "I only ask for two things, please," I added humbly. "May I see her palms for a moment?" I asked the man. The woman was clearly a servant; some sort of Palace Guard/Fuck Slave. The leader nodded. The girl was never consulted. Her hands came forward and they rolled so that I saw the scars on her palm; screw you, Ishara. I don't want to care about her. My day planner was more than full with anguish as it was. No answer. "I appreciate it," I smiled. I waited, keeping eye contact. "Was there something else?" the leader finally gave in. "Oh yes," I smiled and nodded. "Don't get in our way. Behave, stay put on that rotting, rubble pile of a decadent and faded civilization you call Heaven and let us do what needs to be done." "Is that clear enough, or do I need to send you both home with your irradiated testicles in jars?" I kept politely smiling and nodding. I was threatening to make them eunuchs with the bonus of having their precious genetics rendered useless. The girl was giving off minute reactive tremors. That was okay. I had been anything, but quiet. Twenty Amazons were ready and willing to make my threat a reality. I wasn't sure how they would break into Fermi Labs for the radiological material, but their resourcefulness never failed to amaze me. The two guys from the Seven Pillars were standing there, not sure what to do next. I had insulted and threatened them; emissaries. Didn't they realize Amazons had been killing poor bastards entreating them for peace for several millennia? "Beat it," I snapped with authority. "I'm done with you. Take my words back to your masters and pray they excuse your gutless reaction. Don't let the airport hit you in the ass." Ugly American? I was the God Damn Bearded Woman/Dog Boy American and their facades were finally fraying around the edges and not the least because going home and telling their bosses my exact words was going to be; well, the positive spin they put on it had better be impressive. They left with their confident poise while the Egyptians approached with a bit of trepidation. Calling me erratic and volatile was being overly kind. My bet was the older male was in charge, but my age and lusty actions convinced them to put the younger woman forward. The younger male bodyguard wasn't even paying attention to me. If the shit went south, he knew he was a goner. "Greetings Cáel Ishara, it seems," she offered my hand to shake. In Old Kingdom Egyptian he said; "May the Blessed Isis bring understanding to this greeting," I countered. Both she and the old man blinked. The rest was in the Egyptian of Ramses and Seti. "It is wonderful to see you speak our sacred tongue; or a close proximity," she smiled. Not only was she generally happy, she was also pretty sure a very unfortunate confrontation was not in the offing. The bodyguard knew of the language but not enough to make out what was being said. The young lady and old man were more than happy to switch to this rare form of communication. We chatted. Things like funerary rites, thoughts on the afterlife and the role of the supernatural in the modern world all came up. No secrets were exchanged and we actually went over some ancient jokes and ribald tales. Buffy's coughing brought us out of our reverie. They taught me the proper Egyptian Rite greeting and farewell, departing in peace. The Amazons were stirring. It was time to head to the cars then on to the wake. "I do not understand you," Javiera grumbled. "You insulted multiple people, including threats of death and dismemberment. You struck and stabbed; something, but not before he knocked a women nearly three meters. I am not even sure that; relative of yours qualifies as human." "I don't know how to approach you and that woman/aunt/whatever," she continued. "Was that incest, public sex, or sexual assault since I didn't hear her give permission for you to do; that?" Whoops; jealousy. Nicole was a half-step back so she could hide her insidious smirk. She already knew I was a bad, bad boy. "I don't know if this makes it better, or worse, but that; those women are not just my aunts. They are the genetic duplicates of my mother and if you think it is funny that they look to be about my age; you wouldn't be alone," I sighed. "Is your mother dead?" she seethed. "Normally, I would take a Death Certificate, mortuary report and a grave marker to be enough. Not with you." "When I was seven years old I saw her very sick in the hospital. I never saw her die, or the cremation, so with my crazy life I'm not going to swear that she's no longer of this Earth," I confessed. "The only one who would know for sure would be; " "Your father," Javiera answered. I began crying all over again. That was it. When I wanted someone dead, I was going to personally put a stake in their hearts, starting with me. This shit has gone down the rabbit hole. In that transitory micro-burst, I flipped. Not to crazy. I had spent my life believing in what was real; working out, girls, books, literature and art; things I could touch and feel, even if it was the air escaping my lungs as words, notes and sounds sprang forth. Now I had to take things on faith. Not 'faith' as in the calculated possibilities which is what most people really meant. I had to accept that there were things beyond my senses that I could not measure, or codify, and move my life forward understanding the total lack of a solid foundation I was basing my actions on. I needed to see Aya so much it hurt. "Are you going to arrest me?" I hiccupped. I was done bawling like a bereft child for a while. "For what?" Javiera snapped. "If I took this insanity before any judge I know, I'd be on Administrative Leave, if not out of a job altogether." "Oh yes," Nicole winked at me. "I was so looking forward to parading out the four identical aunts and the uncle/part-primate." Javiera shot Nicole a dirty look. "We need to go," Buffy reminded me. The only snag was the FBI guys, backed up by some Chicago PD, who intercepted Javiera as she walked with me to our limo. She had to separate for a minute to assure them she hadn't been kidnapped. After some rumbling, we were gifted with one FBI 'bodyguard' for Javiera. That was laughable. If a psychotic fit seized us, there would be two dead government officials instead of one. "Did you really stab that guy?" Special Agent Street Moslin asked once we were on our way. "My family believes in tough love," I muttered. "What sort of organized crime outfit are you with?" was next. "Pre-teen beauty pageants," I sighed. "You wouldn't believe how cutthroat they are." "It is a crime to lie to a criminal investigator," he countered. "And if this was an interrogation," Nicole sizzled, "you would have to Mirandize him." "He has already been Mirandized," the puppy yipped. "Oh? On the charge of Criminal Conspiracy to commit; clarify the charge for me," Nicole grinned. Street looked to Javiera. "What? Special Agent Moslin, consider yourself to not know a damn thing about what is going on and proceed from there," Javiera informed him. The poor bastard looked perplexed. "I will put your situation in context. The woman to my side (Rachel) is about to slit your throat. The woman (Buffy) next to Ms. Lawless is going to snap your neck. They do not give a crap that you, or I, are federal agents. The issue is not what will you do, it is which one gets to you first," Javiera glared at him. "Clear?" SA Street wasn't done yet. "They will get away with it because I suspect they already have such a contingency worked out," Javiera educated him. Javiera was yet Another really clever lady. "Call for our back-up vehicle, pull into a private driveway where you cannot legally follow us, abandon the vehicle, get picked up and leave the city on a private aircraft to another nation," Rachel sounded bored. That was so nice of her to assist Javiera out that way. "Thank you," I told Rachel. "That was very helpful of you." "I want the male to shut-up," Rachel answered. "He's grating. Worse, he's making me wish Pamela was with us and that is so wrong." I held up a finger to forestall Street. "Honestly Dude, she's is not messing with your head. She wants you to shut up, so please be quiet," I urged him. I conceptualized the assessment he was making. Crap. "Guy, whatever workout routine you think gives you the edge is what she does to warm up in the morning," I pleaded. Street had the 'she's only a girl' look about him. "Her combat training is with live rounds, real weapons and a plethora of scrapes, cuts and broken bones. I have little doubt that she's killed people, some in cold blood." "You being Top Shot at the local range and a Judo Champ isn't going to cut it," I emphasized. "You think she's some kind of Special Forces operator?" he mocked me. Javiera and Nicole got nervous. I didn't. Beginner's Amazon Psychology; male opinions do not matter. Rachel and Buffy weren't insulted because he was a chattering chimp and nothing more. "Have you ever heard of an all-female Special Forces unit?" I prodded. "No," he snorted. I kept staring; and staring; and then the idea began creeping in. "Where do you train?" Street looked at Rachel. Rachel was looking at him, not 'at' him. "Please Rachel," I requested. That was really for Javiera's benefit. "Physical training started at age five, weapons training at nine, survival testing at twelve, craft training at fifteen, and acceptance at nineteen," she rattled off in a monotone. "I am thirty." "What is 'craft training'?" Javiera inquired. "Learning to kill people and destroy things," she began. "My specialties are small unit tactics, security operations, electronic countermeasures and Recon Sniper," Rachel replied. "I am an accepted close combat trainer and handheld weapon expert. Do I need to explain any of that?" Pause. Street snorted. "Do you ever sleep?" Street joked. Rachel looked to me then rolled her eyes. "Yes. Six hours; every day unless duty intervenes," she said. "Right; so, what martial arts style do you practice?" he asked. "Not one you have ever heard of," Rachel took a deep breath. "Try me," Street entreated. "I've practiced with several." "Male, do I look like I enjoy talking to you?" Rachel glared. "To alleviate your obvious confusion, I do not. If you wish to lower the hostility level, hand me your pistol and the sap at your back. Your possession of said weapons in the presence of Cáel complicates my job. This is almost as irritating is restraining myself from taking them from you like the infant you are." "You think you could?" Street challenged her. "I was with the 82nd Airborne in Afghanistan." "Special Agent Moslin, she doesn't care. You might as well have told her you were a weekend security guard at an amusement park," I reasoned. "In her mind, being born with a penis renders all your accomplishments so much hyperbole; kind of how her having tits lowered your respect for her as a fighter." That successful ended that diversion. (The wake) Life was wonderful. I walked in the door of the Marshal Fields Jr. Mansion, Charlotte pulled me into a vacant side room and handed me a secure phone. She mouthed the name of the person on the other end. "Hayden," I sighed to my High Priestess. "Ishara (not using my first name was a bad sign), I have heard a report that you have declared war on the Condotteiri," she gave me the 'I'm going to skin you alive' purr. "Yep and I urinated on the Seven Pillars too," I confirmed. "Don't worry about the Illuminati. I've got that alliance sown up." "I'm going to have a member of the Nine Clans give me my first born, Ishara daughter, so that prospective alliance looks good as well," I added. "I even managed to be diplomatic with Earth  and  Sky. It is not even noon yet either. No need to thank me. Knowing you are thinking passionate thoughts about me is enough." Charlotte looked like her eyes were going to bug out. "We are clear on the fact that there are fifty two other houses in the House, aren't we Cáel?" Hayden murmured. "Hey now," I reposed, "you said to not pick a fight inside Havenstone. You didn't say anything about these sons of bitches on the outside. I also added nineteen new members. Ishara rejected one who I now think was a closet Man-hater's man-hater." "I want you to come back to Havenstone immediately and keep your mouth shut," she commanded. "The Council will be rightly furious." "With me?" I asked. "Of course with you," Hayden growled. "With the aid of the Federal Assistant Attorney, I received computer discs with extensive and sensitive data on Havenstone, including pictures and locations of Sydney and Marilynn, your daughter and granddaughter," I lied. "The feds seized the Condotteiri's private jet." Silence. "What? Why am I only now hearing of this?" Hayden inquired with a deathly calm. "Do you want me to work with the feds to finish hunting down those last two killers while I send someone back with the data?" I persisted. An oddly longer pause. "Katrina insists there is no data," Hayden seethed. "Of course there is no data," I snapped back. "Unlike you, I'm loyal to EVERY MEMBER of the Host, not just the ones I approve of! If I had something that important, it would be on the way to you, if not already in your hands. My House Head has been murdered. Support me; don't support me. It doesn't change that reality. You have lowered your worth in my eyes, Hayden. We will talk of this when I return." And I hung up. Charlotte kept gaping at me. "Do you think I was clear enough, Charlotte?" I asked her. "Yes Ishara," she whispered. "I doubt a single ancestor misconstrued your wrath." That stopped me in my tracks. A rank and file Amazon using my house name was perfectly acceptable. A Council 'equal' saying it was the equivalent of your pissed Mom yelling out your entire name. "You agree with me?" I blinked. "Had it been Fatima, Beyoncé, or Ngozi there would be no debate," Charlotte answered. "I don't like you; okay, beyond your physical magnetism I do not like you. You are still the Head of House Ishara and we believe that the ancestors move through you." By 'we' I imagine she meant Rachel's SD detachment. A social paradigm presented itself. Amazons were surprisingly democratic for such an ancient society. Their bonds of sisterhood gave them greater liberty than any other group I'd heard of. All could take their grievances to the highest authority. They could hate me and die for me at the same time, in the same way Charlotte could be honest at that moment. I was her superior in rank yet her equal in blood. "You realize that if you tell Buffy about this she'll beat me black and blue," I teased Charlotte. "No can do, Ishara," she chuckled. "She's your sister and, quite frankly, you wove this disaster and if anyone deserves to remind you of the trouble you've wrought, it is her." "I would call you a heartless Amazon, but that's kind of redundant," I glowered playfully. I couldn't hide with Charlotte in the side room forever. It was my father's wake after all. Out I went and there was Buffy waiting for me. "We have a problem," Buffy murmured to me as I headed to the main reception area/family room. "There are some questions concerning your Aunt Stella and the Ishara legacy." "Thank God," I muttered. My crisis was momentarily sidelined. I moved into the gathering, letting Helena and Buffy bring the Amazon to my corner. "Quick and easy," I stated as the last one j

Of Funerals and Families; Part Two. In 25 parts, edited from the works of FinalStand. Listen and subscribe to the ► Podcast at Connected.. “Birthed by stars, in immortal light, so why do we assume we pass into Darkness.” A maniac conducted the orchestra, while every section fought for dominance without a thought to the opera unfolding under its twittering cacophony. That is how it felt as I steeled myself for the service, but my musings were a fantasy. I had a swirling company of my twenty inductees, two Amazons, plus Rachel's detail and Esmeralda coordinating all the traffic. Pamela was absent. Buffy was the one in charge, deciding who got how close and under what level of scrutiny. The presence of law enforcement was made obvious by our vigilance, with mutual hostility being declared. The government was catching up with how they'd been screwed over. They couldn't prove a thing yet, although they had missed an entire day trailing after me. They also had new leadership. Pamela had expelled Theodora with the simple application of Conflict of Interest. Nicole and Pratt had joined me in my suite, so I was suitably armored when the Feds made their next run at me. I had stepped up in the world, so I was rewarded with a new attack plan. Her name was Assistant Federal District Attorney Javiera Castello, and two seconds of eye contact made precisely transparent what a hurricane she was going to bring to my life. Sex? Oh yeah, she was already figuring what penitentiary to send me to so she could make monthly visits. An impressive dicking wasn't going to save me this time. She was professional, polite and courteous concerning my mourning without being false. Theodora's strategy assumed I was the man who graduated from Bolingbrook a few months back. My history was clear and muddy enough to be real. I was what my documentation said I was; until Havenstone. Theodora had waved the flags and charged the barricades only to discover too late that my defenses weren't manned by a lone yahoo with a bow and arrow, but with mortars and machineguns and her troops had been scattered, her plans shredded. Javiera had my measure now. I was a Prince. Of what, she didn't know yet. She was going to find out. Not out of some fatalistic curiosity, but because that's where the bread crumbs led. Dad was what he appeared to be, that plot of land was relatively worthless and two groups of professional killers had fought and died dragging my father either away, or to safety. I work with some scary-smart ladies. "Ms. Castello, would you care to travel with me to the service?" I turned to her at the last moment. I was a clever puppy, good with women and I wasn't trying to be a politician. Javiera took my gesture for what it was; an olive branch. I was offering to be less of an obstructionist, and she was willing to forgo retribution for my earlier stunts. Five minutes down the road in the stretch limo, I could see the question eating Javiera up inside. She was honoring my melancholy; I could almost hear Dad saying, 'Son, you have company' as a persistent reminder to his petulant teenage slacker that I was a member of the Human Equation. "What do you want to ask me?" I gathered my civility to the fore. Nicole shifted so that we were making eye contact. "Is there a limit to how many questions?" she started off with. I didn't say 'One and that was it'. "I've been told it will take us thirty-two minutes to the cemetery," I looked at my watch. "That gives us; twenty-six minutes," I offered. "Why all the hostility?" led the charge. "A variety of people consider my life to have some value. For a few it is personal. For most, they attach a more esoteric price tag on my existence," I replied. "That is vague enough to be useless," she gently scolded me. Oh, I could see that both Javiera and Nicole were about to play Nutcracker with my heritage until it was the consistency of warm peanut butter. "I am the member of not one, but two secret societies," I kept steady eye contact with her. Yes; there was that look I was slowly becoming accustomed to; that one that conveyed 'what you said made no sense, so why aren't you lying to me?' "Which ones?" Javiera rebounded quickly. "Perhaps we should discuss this at a later time," Nicole reposed. "Nicole," I patted her knee, "how would you feel if you got Javiera murdered?" "That thought shouldn't even be;” she stated. "Nicole, I'm worried enough about you. People know I like you, so they may not kill you for looking in the wrong trash bin," I explained. "She doesn't even have that rather tenuous screen." "Was it one, or both secret societies that shot and killed your father?" Javier continued. "Without a doubt it was an accident. The all-female group was simply scouting the location out as part of forming a contingency plan," I said. "The other group showed up to kidnap my father to interrogate him; I'm not going to tell you why." "The first group identified themselves and the second group began shooting. In the process of grabbing my father, they shot him three times. In the process of taking him to one of their cars, the living lady engaged them in a final firefight. They abandoned my father and left." "You seem to know a great deal about what happened," Javiera noted. "I've seen the footage the first group took from their helmet cams," I told her. "Is there any way I could see that?" she prodded. "By no human means I can think of," I shrugged. "Feel free to ask that extremely venomous lady sitting next to you. Her name is Rachel," I made the introduction. "She remains under the impression that killing people around me will somehow save me from myself," I added. "I not only trust her, I trust her with the lives of my daughters." "You don't have any children we are aware of," Javiera wondered. "Rachel knows what I mean," I gave a lopsided grin. Rachel knew alright. I wasn't asking her to save me with that statement. I was asking her to save my future. "What is with all the women? I'm a believer in gender equality. You seem to lack any male employees, period. Is this a permutation of a harem?" Javier opened another line of investigation. Rachel and Buffy quickly snorted their amusement then returned to their not-so-subtle aggression. I was sure my chauffeur, Tiger Lily, was snickering it up too, beyond the glass. Sigh. "That was uncalled for," I frowned at the Fed. "Five Google searches and you should know all about Havenstone's hiring practices. Ask what you want to ask. Don't try to trick me. I am definitely not in the mood." "Why are you in charge; a male over Havenstone employees that certainly have more skill and experience at; just about everything?" Javiera came clean. "Put on your hip-waders," I groaned. "This is going to suck." I waited until I had her undivided attention. "A long time ago, I killed a group of really bad people," I grunted. I could see that she wasn't buying it despite her interrogation senses saying I was being truthful. "When I say a long time ago, I mean about 2500 years ago." Sigh. "Before you start tossing Thorazine at me, all you need to accept is that every one of those women around me believes that to be true." "So this is a cult?" Javiera inquired bravely. "Put it this way. I'm sure you practice a martial art of some kind. You probably have a chromatic belt that you are rather proud of. It will not help you. These women are professional killers. I'm pretty sure there are a dozen unidentified corpses that could be attributed to these two." I already knew that Buffy killed some guys. Rachel? She was a team leader, so I was willing to have faith in her ability to remorselessly end another person's life. Javiera must have volunteered for my personal fiasco. "Are you being held against your will?" she looked so vigilant and intent. "I can get you out." "No," a dry chuckle. "I'm; not good; getting by. There is no way in Hell I'm leaving Havenstone. I can hardly kill all the people responsible for my father's death if I did that." "If you seek personal vengeance, I will be forced to bring every legal power to bear to stop you," she felt bound to threaten me. "Don't stop being you on my account, Ms. Castello," I finally managed a smile. It was sincere and Javiera knew it. "Who? Maybe I can catch them before you do?" she offered me an escape clause. "You will know it when you see it," I took a deep breath. "Do not try anything at the funeral," she warned me. "Law enforcement will be all over the place." She really wanted to screw me in prison. I knew those things. "I'm not going to kill them there," I assured her. "They will be the ones running for their lives though." "How is that going to work?" Nicole finally broke my silence. "I have 27 ladies willing to kill on my command," I exaggerated. "When I tell those men I know they were responsible and that they should run for their lives, they are going to run for their lousy stinking lives." "But you are not going to give the order to have them killed," Javiera stated. She was getting my measure now. "No, but they don't know that and being horrible human beings, they will assume that I will have them murdered over my father's grave," I turned positively wolfish. "They will run and they will keep running because of you and yours, Javiera. They won't have guns because they don't want to be arrested," I finished. "Why are they afraid to be arrested?" Javiera was putting the puzzle together. That was our deal after all. "I can have repeated, heavenly sex on a train with a nun," I confessed. "I'm pretty sure I can arrange to have a scumbag killed in prison." "I think we can both agree my client is under a great deal of stress at this time," Nicole intervened. "I think we can agree your client is not Al Capone, much less Osama bin Laden," Javiera allowed. "I still think he is exceedingly dangerous." "Dangerous? Dangerous is dating in this town," I groaned. "Went out late last night to a dance club, met two sweet girls visiting the Windy City, stepped outside and they tried to kill me." "Do these two count as 'public'?" Buffy snarled. She meant Javiera and Nicole. Pratt was in another car and the only others with us were Rachel and me. This was going to hurt. "No," I sighed. Wham! The Charlie Horse from Hell! "That's why you have bodyguards, you jerk," Buffy nearly cried. "Ah; we were with him," Rachel tapped Buffy's upper arm. "Oh." Long pause. "I; I apologize," Buffy said sheepishly. "I had no idea you were getting smarter." That was probably the best apology I was going to get. It was still my fault. "You do it out of love, Buffy," I rubbed my arm. Buffy gave me a heartbreaking smile. "Was that domestic violence, or assault?" Javiera snarled. "Neither one is allowable under Illinois law." "It is a Human Resources Team-building tool," I lied. "In some places it is called Obedience Training, or Negative Reinforcement." "I have never seen another human being take a beating like Cáel can," Rachel complimented me. "He is also incredible in the bed room," Buffy added on. Javier didn't know what to make of the menagerie of 'not-normal' women who hung around me. She locked eyes with Buffy. "I mean Really fantastic," Buffy licked her lips. Nicole nodded in agreement. "I can't use any of this," Javiera muttered after several minute of silence. "It is all a type of shared delusion; with fourteen dead bodies attached to it." "Ah, the guy with both femoral arteries shot out made it? Whoa, we've got some top notch surgeons in this city," I nodded. "Yes. As opposed to those two men who had their heads shot off," Javiera added bitterly. Reminding her that poor Horace of the Burnham PD had done the deeds was pointless. "Who died?" I attempted some reciprocity from Javiera. She'd read through every public aspect of my life and had talked to me for less than ten minutes. She excelled at her craft; punishing lawbreakers. "I conclude you know the name of the three dead women and the one living one," she began, "because we haven't a clue who they really are. Their cover identities aren't perfect. We simply can't get anything about them behind the fallacy of their existence." She waited. "If you can help us put the wounded woman in some sort of shared protective custody, I can probably 'suggest' that she be more cooperative," I counter-offered. Rachel nodded. "The eight other bodies at the house;” Javiera shook her head. "Four were dead and by that I mean reported dead from four to nine years ago. The rest; Hell, they were all twisted fucking savages. Every one of them had Interpol warrants out for them, for questioning. No accusations seemed to stick to them: misplaced evidence, dead witnesses and falsified death certificates." "Does this mean anything to you?" Javiera paused to get some more information. "Yes. Reference the men running for their lives," I nodded. "Cáel?" Rachel cautioned me. "This is not something you can rush into." "Actually, it was you who clued me in, Rachel," I looked at her. "Given an opportunity to have only one gun of a given type, would you choose one you knew intimately, or a totally random one?" was my rhetorical question. Professionals trained with a large variety of weapons, yet every Amazon I had met had a preferred weapon; one that if they could have it with them, they would. "The Zastava M2," Rachel nodded. "It is not used in too many places and only Peru in this hemisphere. Someone really loved that gun; enough to bring it from whatever killing field where he was currently employed to my home," I said. "Since the other likely culprit passed on a chance to kill me last night, I am sure enough to pick a fight." (Holy Cross) It had to be odd in so many ways for the people who knew Dad and, to a lesser extent, me. They gathered by the graveside. It wasn't much. Dad had been cremated as had Mom. They had these small granite markers; no headstones for them. They had been so much in love. All they wanted is to be laid to rest, side by side. Mom had insisted on cremation. I thought I knew why, but it had done no good. The true oddity was obvious. The islet of normalcy was the small funerary party with me. My Aunt; my Father's Sister; was here and somewhat in shock. She and Dad hadn't been close; so much unsaid. When my Grandparents died, Dad was only nineteen and Stella was sixteen. Stella's lifelong friend had moved to Maryland a few months previously. Stella reached out to her friend, her friend's parents talked to Dad and Stella went to off to be a mariner. Seeing her occasionally as I was growing up was the extent of our relationship. The priest did his thing. I wondered what Christ thought of this mystic fur ball that was the amalgam of my life. My hope was that he was quietly urging me to do the right thing. The Padre finished, the co-workers and neighbors came by to give their condolences and then ran the gauntlet. The gauntlet? Yes, the herd of Amazons, O'Shea kin and four other clumps of people who I didn't know, yet undoubtedly would soon. Selena and Miyako were present along with a third female who looked luscious in a burqa-shaped covering and a diaphanous veil. Javiera, Pratt and Nicole were somewhat out of place with their lack of arrogant lethality. A limo driver came to take Stella away. "I have some issues to deal with, Aunt Stella," I comforted her. "Vér a vér." It had been ages since she'd heard Hungarian so she wasn't sure what I meant, but she knew it was bad. One of my O'Shea aunts was coming my way until the menace of the closing Amazons halted her. The others had no clue what they were about to behold. I doubt outsiders had ever been privileged to witness anything like it. This was a declaration; it was my mission statement. Ishara did not hide. I took off my coat, folded it, placed it on the damp grass then knelt on it. Buffy stepped up with the bowl of incense and followed my 'coat to keep your knees clean' stunt, sitting perpendicular on my right. Helena followed suit on my left, placing a shroud over my head and leaned over the bowl. Gamble number one: the incense lit up instantly. Gamble number two: it really did burn my eyes; no more Desiree slapping me around. I was sure she'd be heartbroken. Gamble number three: while using my nifty little Amazon blade to gather my tears, I managed not to cut myself. The inductees were much more impressed when they realized what I was doing under my head covering. The next step had me pulling back the shroud, standing up, and striding over the burning bowl of incense. Helena called out the first name. The lady didn't need any prodding. The Amazon walked over to my coat and knelt. Helena wrote down her name and handed her the slip of paper. My Keeper motioned to the bowl. The first applicant placed her named slip of paper on the embers. The simple message flashed up and was consumed. That was unlooked for. I declared her old self dead. With my tears, I opened her eyes to our ancestral history and with blood, I brought her into our future. She had entered House Ishara. She wasn't the only one crying either. What Rachel and her team thought was unknown to me. They were being hyper-vigilant. Esmeralda kept stealing glances our way. Things went along with joyous solemnity until the fourteenth woman, Alicia, knelt before me. Helena handed the paper over, the Amazon dropped it on the incense and nothing happened. I was about to move on to the next part of the ritual when I caught sight of that. Buffy, Helena and the lady were all staring at the offending bit of tinder. I bent over and, with my index finger, pushed it into the embers. Nothing; no heat, or fiery consumption. I put some spit on my finger and pushed again. This time it burned me. The paper was fine. Damn it; 'Come on Ishara!' I screamed mentally. 'Can't I have a simple bit of theater without you mangling someone's dreams?' There was no supernatural scolding, or retort. "Alicia, Ishara believes you have not yet finished your walk outside our House," I consoled the woman; Alicia Holt. As she stood up, faced gripped with disbelief, Buffy rose and took her away. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Alicia shoot me a poisonous look. Buffy had anticipated this and was making sure the woman didn't make a scene. The last six women were even more nervous than the previous thirteen. Thankfully, Ishara was accepting of the remainder and we all transited to the group celebratory hug. Act one has passed safely, Act two had an unexpected bump and here came round three. The 'dignitaries' started swooping in. Outside of the O'Shea's, none of the guests wanted to have another group behind them, or hemming in them. Two of the groups held back and since one was composed entirely of Asians, I was betting the other group was the Egyptian Rite. One of my now four aunts came forward. My small crowd of Isharans gave her barely enough room to approach the grave. She placed a green rose upon my Mother's small marble marker. I wondered what my Mother would have thought of her sisters finally finding her; green rose? Who made green; probably the same sick son of a bitch who made female clones of himself? The other three followed suit, placing the roses in a radiating sunburst on the small piece of marble. Through the wall of Illuminati security came; the Missing Link. Oh My God. I had heard of V-chested males, but this was insane. I swear his upper arms were as big as my thighs. The problem was the hips and legs of the body didn't match-up to the torso, arms, neck (or lack thereof) and shoulders. The upper, steroid-addicted half belonged to a two meter tall giant. The lower half belonged to, maybe, a subpar man of a meter and a half This monster didn't have a receding hairline (actually, he did); he had a receding forehead. In homo-sapiens, if you roll a marble off their heads, it drops and hits the eyebrows. On this guy, it was a gentle ski-slope all the way down. "This is your Uncle Carrig," Brianna; I thought it was Brianna; made the introductions. I dialed up my Irish. Carrig meant; meant; 'rock'. Not 'the Rock' as in Dwayne Johnson. No, it meant 'rock' as in 'lump'. I had an Uncle Lumpy. How the fuck was I going to explain this at the next high school reunion? The answer was obvious. I'd parade out my four lava-stoked volcanic aunt-hotties and no one would be able to see old Uncle Lumpy over their sexual radiance. Perhaps being created in the form of a disfigured Neanderthal made Lumpy furious with the world. That might be why he wanted Grandpa to stay dead. Maybe; oh hell, Lumpy had serious family issues, as in he wanted to hump my aunts who only wanted to hump me. "Hello Uncle Carrig," I started out. "Thank you for; " "Shut up," he sneered. "I came here to see your whore of a mother one last time, not listen to your prattle." "Carrig, don't," Fiona intervened. "He is family." He took a deep breath. "I know why all of you want him in the Family," he snarled at his sisters. "Behave, or leave," I relayed in a far calmer voice than I felt. "I'll leave when I'm good and ready," Carrig turned his hate back on me. He put a finger to his nose and cleared his sinuses. The resulting sputum he launched at my Mother's tiny rock reminder was dead-on the money, gooey, white and full of phlegm. I looked at that defilement. This red-hot poker of rage seared through my mind. Instead, I laughed. It started as a stuttered utterance but grew and grew into a rich, resounding conquest of death and despair. "Wow, Unc; that was kind of pathetic," I chuckled. "It is impossible to imagine you ever breathed the same air, much less hold any genetic resemblance, to the greatest criminal mastermind of the past millennia. Seriously, spitting on a piece of stone was the most your orangutan-like, sloped-headed pea brain could come up with?" "After that (cough) brilliant bit of diplomacy, he's probably glad he's still dead and didn't have to witness your infantile blunder," I added. He was getting pissed; torn between his desires to pummel me, rip me to shreds, or storm off like a raging King Kong. "You know, when they killed Grandpa, they told me he made a noise like a stuck pig," I mirthfully met his hateful glare. "For a moment, they thought they'd killed the wrong man." "They suspected you and Granddad were in the next chamber, him ramming you up your sissy-ass for the umpteenth time because you are nothing but a ball-less wonder of a cast-off eunuch," I kept taunting him. "Then they recalled that you always squealed like a piglet, not a full grown boar, so they completed their mission and left," I refused to flinch before his vile hatred. "You think you are funny?" he leaned in and hissed. "I think you need a breath mint; and I am hilarious," I grinned. "I also think I'm the son Granddad always wanted, not you." That was me being mean; really mean. "We are not done," his eyes narrowed. "Take your pulse," I mocked him. "When it stops, we are finished. Until then, brush, use mouthwash and floss between meals. Your halitosis is truly offensive and worse, I think you are aware of it, yet still you refuse to respect other people's personal boundaries." "We should go brother," Deidre beckoned. She couldn't hide her amusement at his discomfort and humiliation. Uncle Carrig pivoted and back-handed her. Deidre went flying, but my idiot kinsman didn't have long to savor his win. I hit him with two lightning blows. My first thought was that I had dislocated a few of my fingers from hitting his jaw. Wasn't there a Bond villain like that? Carrig turned on me, a feral fury brimming just beneath the surface. "That's a breach, you cocky, snot-nosed punk," he sneered. Mass carnage was in the offing. "You remain painfully ignorant, Uncle Carrig," I took a half-step back. "Take your punishment now, or later," he coughed. "It makes no difference to me." "First off, Carrig, timing should be a poignant concern. Second, you have only now expended a great deal of your meager brain power convincing everyone here we are related; kin; O'Shea's," I explained. "Also, can I have my knife back?" "Knife?" he blinked suspiciously. "Yeah, the knife I left in your chest," I pointed. I said I hit him twice. Uncle Lumpy looked down and, sure enough, my handy little 10 cm blade was between his second and third rib on the right side. I hadn't wanted to kill him. I had wanted to hurt him and apparently failed at that; while sticking a blade almost up to the handle (Amazon personal blades have no hilt) into him; "What; how?" Lumpy was slowly clueing in that he might be in some trouble. "Brother," Brianna stepped up; shooting me a sultry, 'bend me over the closest headstone and bang me like your Goth prom date' look. I actually didn't go to my prom, Goth chicks are fun and Brianna didn't have panties on. Trust me; I have ESP concerning such things. Of more immediate concern; "Carrig, don't pull out the knife," she placed herself between us, facing him. "You will bleed all over the place." "I'm about to ram it down his ass through his throat," he snarled, clearly educationally challenged. I'd left the blade there for that very reason; not have him fountain blood all over the gravesite. "How long is the blade?" Brianna asked me. She already knew the answer. "10 cm," I was polite, "as is the knife every other Amazon carries." "Reach around and pull out the blade when I tell you," Brianna requested. "I will keep pressure on the wound." I had serious doubts she had an MD associated with her name which meant she knew something I didn't. I also had a more pressing conundrum. Per instructions, I was about to be pressing against Brianna's backside with the added benefit of a free hand. "So, do you want me to pat them, or give them a good rub?" I whispered to Brianna. I'd let he decide what treatment her ass was about to receive. "I figure if I reach around and massage your breasts, Carrig will lose it." "Cáel, take a firm hold. Be doubly sure you are ready before we begin," Brianna instructed. It wasn't the Di Vinci Code, but Carrig wasn't about to conquer a Denny's Kid's Menu (it has little games on it) anytime soon either. Brianna wanted double penetration and, in the name of renewing family relations and my inability to resist any available woman for more than a few days, I complied. Then the horror came crashing in; I hadn't had sex all day and it was almost 10 am. "Don't move, Uncle," I cautioned him. I used those words to conceal the sound of Brianna's skirt zipper going down. I used my other hand to gingerly grab my weapon; the knife; jeesh. Brianna spread her legs wider so that the tension kept her apparel from slipping down. My free hand went inside and got to work. Fortunately, Brianna's hands pressing above and below the wound distracted Carrig from her cute, precious whimpering noises. I must be a total dick. I was stroking my aunt/clone mother with two fingers and teasing her bunghole with my thumb while pulling a knife from my uncle's chest. What is wrong with me? For that matter, Ishara could stymie the ambitions of some poor 'Runner', yet decided her prime minion doing this was a good thing? I work for some screwed up people; dead and alive. "Okay, I'm about to do it," I warned them both. Brianna was kind enough to roll her hips forward and ass up for more direct access. The blade came out, two fingers thrust into her depths, Carrig grunted more in annoyance than any physical distraction and Brianna gasped with piteous need. Before Carrig could start to connect A to B to C, I withdrew my fingers and zipped Brianna up. As I started to withdraw, Brianna acted like my loins were velcroed to her posterior. "Bad Girl," I quietly gave her a risqué reproach. She let me go. Then it hit me like a meteor; I had caused Brianna to orgasm, and hard, with one touch. In fact, she was still roughly riding through it. The mental discipline needed to mask her arousal was impressive. She had no control over her aromatic qualities, Lumpy's nostrils were working fine and his hateful, beady rodent-like eyes latched back on me. "I'm going to kill you," he screamed. Carrig definitely wanted to screw his sisters and they had certainly been denying him. I was curious how that had been accomplished. As he shoved Brianna aside, my suspicion about the seriousness of my wound to his chest was confirmed. I hadn't punched through his heavy corded muscle tissue; with a 10 cm blade. Fuck a duck. If Uncle Carrig got those horrifically huge paws of his on me, I'd be paper-mâché in a hurricane; turned into veal; the very tenderized kind. That wasn't going to happen because of a little factor called crowd density. Most notably, he was in the midst of a passel of Amazons invested in my well-being. A sliver of the O'Shea family dynamic took hold. As usual, it sucked to be me. The four O'Shea ladies rallied around Carrig, cautiously pulled him back then ushered him into the steely embrace of their security. Why did that mean it sucked to be me? In a momentary visual exchange, I understood what Lumpy instinctually sensed when he showed up today. His reign as the place-holder for me was coming to an end. The second my Aunts recruited me over to their side, he was a goner. Obviously they had all the real intellect on that side of the clan. Poor Lumpy merely stomped around and acted like the socially maladjusted homicidal maniac he was. Once the journey to Grandpa's house began, he would cease to have any value whatsoever. Behind his animalistic, dull eyes, we shared that. Tragically, but most likely by design, Carrig couldn't develop a new set of skills to adapt to the situation. The best example I could come up with was; Imagine the last of the super-large amphibious predators confronting the first of the true dinosaur apex carnivores. Somewhere in that tiny amphibian brain, it knew it was screwed. Evolution simply hadn't left it an 'out'. It couldn't get bigger, faster, or more ferocious. It had maxxed out those traits for that model. Nope, it was toast and nothing could save it. As I processed that, the rest of that train of thought came tumbling down. Lumpy was a dead man. He'd hit one of his sisters in front of me which was precisely what they wanted. Deidre hadn't come by my place on Monday to warn me that Uncle Blockhead was trying to kill me. She was prepping me for the knowledge that they had killed Lumpy; to save me. Those incestuous nightmares had trotted Uncle Carrig out like a Barnum  and  Bailey Sasquatch, to loud acclaim and fanfare. Before I could do some in depth research/check to see if this was the 'real' Sasquatch, he would vanish aka be killed to save me. Well played ladies. They should have taken into account I worked for Katrina Love. Katrina undoubtedly played three-dimensional chess on-line so she could lure out the true Vulcans trapped on Earth. My aunts' straw man wasn't going to cut it. Back to the reality that included my father never again enjoying my meandering thoughts over dinner. Back to the other curious 'real' players as they moved in, having soaked up my ceremony and our O'Shea family struggle. If there as a benefit in that misadventure, it was the look on the faces of the two most distant groups. The ambassadors had on their poker faces. I was two decades away from having a chance of deciphering them. Foolish mortals, both groups had brought women with them though. That was not to imply that women can't keep secrets; they are among the experts. It wasn't secrets they were defending though; it was the interaction between Brianna and me that opened them up. If you are a woman and you see a man bring a different woman to orgasm with his fingers in under ten seconds and you are NOT intrigued, you have been sexually neutered. Even if you are a lesbian, you want your lover to pick up that technique. From the level of interest coming my way, I could tell what their bosses/associates really thought of me. The lady who was already thinking how to pull me aside at the reception was also projecting that I had piqued her co-workers, despite their feigned disinterest. The one who was plotting out how to disguise herself as a maid, so she could hide in my bathroom closet until I came in for a shower this evening. Then the feigned interrogation/instructional demonstration could begin, which told me they had chosen to not leave Chicago today despite previous travel plans. The three assholes won the social dare contest and approached me next. They were cool, somewhat disdainful and not a party to the murderous program that led us here today. They were still Condotteiri, thus my enemies and slayers of my Dad. "Mr. Nyilas," a smooth talking Canadian male began, "I wish to pass on the condolences of; " "I know it was you," I broke in. The Canadian; Ottawa, I thought; stopped talking, allowing me to vent. "You killed my father, you fucks. Now here is your 'I got drunk and stuck my cock in a meat grinder only to discover some other moron plugged it in' bullet to the brain. I am not only Cáel Nyilas, I am Cáel Ishara and Cáel, grandson of Cáel O'Shea," I narrowed my vision to menacing slits. "I will let you figure out which Goddess is Ishara as well as the convoluted genetics that has resurrected male Amazons. I want you to know that my father was the Head of House Ishara. You killed a Factor of the Illuminati, the 'Voice' of one of the Nine Clans, one of your own Generals, a Grand Master of the Egyptian Rite, a Ba Wang of the 7 Pillars, or a Chosen Son or Daughter, of Earth  and  Sky "That's right," I let the fear sink in. "This goes beyond a breach, Dumbass. You BROKE the Truce and have ended the Protocols by killing an Amazon leader. I'm sure claims of ignorance by your Generals will be taken for the empty blathering they are. It is time for your blood to soak the sacred soil of my father's place of entombment." Having buried him and his two cohorts in a rockslide of truth, my final bluff passed unrevealed for the empty threat it was. I could see by the looks in their eyes. Amazons didn't care about law enforcement. They would kill those three, vanish into the surrounds then slink back to their secret compounds. It was how the Condotteiri thought Amazon's worked. "Or," I grumbled, "Are you going to make me and my sisters hunt you down and work for it. Killing you with our knives is going to be;” I was saying when their retreat began. I was going to say 'messy'. Those three took a half-dozen steps back then ran for it. Now the stage was fully set. The three members of the Nine Clans came next. I took a totally different tone. Selena stepped up to speak, bowing as she started to speak. "We wish;” she started. There was a lot of interrupting going on today. "Please do not bow to me," I requested softly. "We have fought and it seems inappropriate to me that, without there being a martial decision, we cannot be sure who should be more respectful to whom," I suggested. Selena quickly switched gears. She and her two female companions were now openly staring at me. "My Sith Lady is most likely preparing for trouble at my most vulnerable point," I told Selena. "I'm much more trouble than I first appear," I added. A hiccup in the conversation took place. "You are the male Head of an Amazon House; how?" Selena questioned. "My father and the fathers before him carried the genes of the original Ishara. When Her daughters died out, the legacy fell to me," I explained. Really smart girls; really, really smart girls. "You do not have any daughters, so your first born daughter will be the next Head of your House," the Hashashin noted quickly. "Of any line?" Ah, the siren call of 'please have unprotected sex with me, Mr. Studmuffin. Not only will I walk bow-legged for a week afterwards, I'll have a political tool to use for a lifetime.' "Yes, that is true. Please understand, unless you can catch a thrown tomahawk with your feet, I can't say you are at the top of the list," I sighed. "Speaking of the acrobat of my dreams, how are you doing Miyako?" I knocked away at the barrier between our respective groups. I could hardly be considered an Amazon if I wasn't stacking the odds against the Condotteiri, now could I? On came that child-like Nipponese girl's smile that made me want to double-check her ID for proof of age. "It is recovering nicely. Thank you, Ishara-sama," she smiled warmly. "May I see?" I inquired. Miyako nodded so I went down until I was balanced on the balls of my feet. She deftly slipped out of one of her shoes, placed her foot on my knee then began rolling up the pants leg until the bandage was revealed. In the past few hours my medical knowledge had not increased one iota. I was pretty sure that Miyako knew what this doctor's visit was really all about. I gently massaged her leg from ankle to knee, examining it for flaws and weaknesses. I received some manna from Heaven when I stumbled upon a muscle spasm in her foot arch. I worked it out in under thirty seconds and she gave me a musical murmur of relief when I was done. I put her shoe back on and rolled down her trouser leg. "I would still like you to see our medic if you could spare the half-hour," I offered as I stood. "If it would ease any misconceptions about our first encounter, I will do it," Miyako changed her mind from last night. My next neural misfire was 'Did I pack enough condoms to do all these girls I've been promising to fuck since I got here?' "Estere Abed," the thinly-veiled applicant to be the mother of my first child introduced herself. I was at my father's funeral, I'd been hit with the realization that my incestuous aunts are going to emasculate the uncle I'd just met before they kill him, and I was talking to a woman with skin the color of well-seasoned Oak, eyes as dark as expresso-roasted coffee beans (so deeply brown they were almost black), a pale turquoise, virtually transparent pretend-burqa, with inner, skimpy clothing bits keeping her barely street-legal and visualizing what our daughter would look like. "I am of Kurdish extraction," she lowered her head minutely. Ding-ding-ding-ding-ding! Not only was a-bed something I was seriously considering with this woman, Estere was a Kurdish name of Old Persian extraction. It meant Ishtar; who was the advanced incarnation of Ishara. Bitch; aimed up at my Matron Goddess and Ancestral Mother turned Dominatrixes of my soul. "How; how mystically convergent that is," I grumbled. "I apologize. Me and my matron Ball-buster are exchanging psychic barbs at the moment. Had you somehow predicted this would have happened, I would be happier. With my luck though, this is accidental from the perspective of the mortal plane, thus a point of incredible annoyance to me right now." "Do you often talk to your ancestors?" Estere inquired politely. "Only after I've done something bad," I groaned. "Usually my Goddess is short on instructions yet always ready with 'I told you so'." "How can she chastise you for doing wrong if she fails to give you direction?" Estere was so sincere. I had to keep in mind she was a professional librarian with the nasty habit of misfiling people's lives. "I can tell you don't deal with the Spirit World much," I gave a sad grin. "The last time she gave me a prod, I was staring down a life sentence in a dog cage; after I was condemned, not before." "You escaped," she reminded me with a sparkle. I gave a harsh laugh. "No; no, I didn't," I said. "I'll prove it." I lashed out at Estere. She turned my strike aside and was about to do something I assumed would be unfortunate for me when she restrained herself. "See, Estere, you've been doing this most of your life. I'm a college kid who had a good fortune to meet and be guided by a series of stellar women." She nodded. She didn't understand yet she wanted to remain sympathetic. "I'm playing catch up in an incredibly lethal chess match," I continued. "My advantage is I'm not fuck-nuts crazy like the rest of you people. I don't mean to insult you. I simply want to make it clear how I feel. All the societies are spiritually malformed blights on reality; evil, twisted and predatory." "But you like us," she observed. "I'm going to Hell," I risked much by brushing her nose with my finger from brow to the edge of the veil. "I might as well enjoy the journey." Since I returned with all the fingers I started out with, I could tell she appreciated my caress. Our other guests were getting restless, so I had to end our interaction there. A lone man approached. He looked to be a Turkish/Mongolian mixture and he was uncomfortable with the way the situation had developed. I doubt I had offended him. It was much more the scope of this informal meeting had gone way above his pay grade. As he was from the Earth  and  Sky, the Amazons' hostility simmered. I countered that by being as civil as possible. The emissary, Iskender, gave his condolences, I thanked him for his respect and entered into a small conversation. When he figured out who the Magyar were, he smiled. Iskender was a Kyrgyz, a Turkish people from Central Asia, and we bonded over our male progenitors having saddled up on our nomad ponies, making Eurasia tremble. I was putting forth the effort to make him feel welcome. That was the message for him to take home. Not all the Amazons were going to have their knee-jerk reaction to the E and S's goal. Next came the Seven Pillars, mainly because the Egyptians seemed ready to wait for the grass to devour them before coming my way. Now I had to pillage the vaults of my crafty interpersonal skills to do this correctly. Two men, endowed with as much racial supremacy as Ursula, if not more, introduced themselves. Slight bowing, polite English and the proper, rehearsed words flowed from their mouths. They didn't look down on me; the reason being that behind their perfect civility, they considered me and mine to be inconsequential. The nice female of an indeterminate South Asian lineage had that haunted look of someone made to do horrible things just to survive. A flash of the macabre dumped a memory of her strangling homeless people in some back alleys with barbed wire; so it would hurt them both; training, Seven Pillars style. "Thank you for paying your respects at my father's grave," I started. They hadn't, btw. "I only ask for two things, please," I added humbly. "May I see her palms for a moment?" I asked the man. The woman was clearly a servant; some sort of Palace Guard/Fuck Slave. The leader nodded. The girl was never consulted. Her hands came forward and they rolled so that I saw the scars on her palm; screw you, Ishara. I don't want to care about her. My day planner was more than full with anguish as it was. No answer. "I appreciate it," I smiled. I waited, keeping eye contact. "Was there something else?" the leader finally gave in. "Oh yes," I smiled and nodded. "Don't get in our way. Behave, stay put on that rotting, rubble pile of a decadent and faded civilization you call Heaven and let us do what needs to be done." "Is that clear enough, or do I need to send you both home with your irradiated testicles in jars?" I kept politely smiling and nodding. I was threatening to make them eunuchs with the bonus of having their precious genetics rendered useless. The girl was giving off minute reactive tremors. That was okay. I had been anything, but quiet. Twenty Amazons were ready and willing to make my threat a reality. I wasn't sure how they would break into Fermi Labs for the radiological material, but their resourcefulness never failed to amaze me. The two guys from the Seven Pillars were standing there, not sure what to do next. I had insulted and threatened them; emissaries. Didn't they realize Amazons had been killing poor bastards entreating them for peace for several millennia? "Beat it," I snapped with authority. "I'm done with you. Take my words back to your masters and pray they excuse your gutless reaction. Don't let the airport hit you in the ass." Ugly American? I was the God Damn Bearded Woman/Dog Boy American and their facades were finally fraying around the edges and not the least because going home and telling their bosses my exact words was going to be; well, the positive spin they put on it had better be impressive. They left with their confident poise while the Egyptians approached with a bit of trepidation. Calling me erratic and volatile was being overly kind. My bet was the older male was in charge, but my age and lusty actions convinced them to put the younger woman forward. The younger male bodyguard wasn't even paying attention to me. If the shit went south, he knew he was a goner. "Greetings Cáel Ishara, it seems," she offered my hand to shake. In Old Kingdom Egyptian he said; "May the Blessed Isis bring understanding to this greeting," I countered. Both she and the old man blinked. The rest was in the Egyptian of Ramses and Seti. "It is wonderful to see you speak our sacred tongue; or a close proximity," she smiled. Not only was she generally happy, she was also pretty sure a very unfortunate confrontation was not in the offing. The bodyguard knew of the language but not enough to make out what was being said. The young lady and old man were more than happy to switch to this rare form of communication. We chatted. Things like funerary rites, thoughts on the afterlife and the role of the supernatural in the modern world all came up. No secrets were exchanged and we actually went over some ancient jokes and ribald tales. Buffy's coughing brought us out of our reverie. They taught me the proper Egyptian Rite greeting and farewell, departing in peace. The Amazons were stirring. It was time to head to the cars then on to the wake. "I do not understand you," Javiera grumbled. "You insulted multiple people, including threats of death and dismemberment. You struck and stabbed; something, but not before he knocked a women nearly three meters. I am not even sure that; relative of yours qualifies as human." "I don't know how to approach you and that woman/aunt/whatever," she continued. "Was that incest, public sex, or sexual assault since I didn't hear her give permission for you to do; that?" Whoops; jealousy. Nicole was a half-step back so she could hide her insidious smirk. She already knew I was a bad, bad boy. "I don't know if this makes it better, or worse, but that; those women are not just my aunts. They are the genetic duplicates of my mother and if you think it is funny that they look to be about my age; you wouldn't be alone," I sighed. "Is your mother dead?" she seethed. "Normally, I would take a Death Certificate, mortuary report and a grave marker to be enough. Not with you." "When I was seven years old I saw her very sick in the hospital. I never saw her die, or the cremation, so with my crazy life I'm not going to swear that she's no longer of this Earth," I confessed. "The only one who would know for sure would be; " "Your father," Javiera answered. I began crying all over again. That was it. When I wanted someone dead, I was going to personally put a stake in their hearts, starting with me. This shit has gone down the rabbit hole. In that transitory micro-burst, I flipped. Not to crazy. I had spent my life believing in what was real; working out, girls, books, literature and art; things I could touch and feel, even if it was the air escaping my lungs as words, notes and sounds sprang forth. Now I had to take things on faith. Not 'faith' as in the calculated possibilities which is what most people really meant. I had to accept that there were things beyond my senses that I could not measure, or codify, and move my life forward understanding the total lack of a solid foundation I was basing my actions on. I needed to see Aya so much it hurt. "Are you going to arrest me?" I hiccupped. I was done bawling like a bereft child for a while. "For what?" Javiera snapped. "If I took this insanity before any judge I know, I'd be on Administrative Leave, if not out of a job altogether." "Oh yes," Nicole winked at me. "I was so looking forward to parading out the four identical aunts and the uncle/part-primate." Javiera shot Nicole a dirty look. "We need to go," Buffy reminded me. The only snag was the FBI guys, backed up by some Chicago PD, who intercepted Javiera as she walked with me to our limo. She had to separate for a minute to assure them she hadn't been kidnapped. After some rumbling, we were gifted with one FBI 'bodyguard' for Javiera. That was laughable. If a psychotic fit seized us, there would be two dead government officials instead of one. "Did you really stab that guy?" Special Agent Street Moslin asked once we were on our way. "My family believes in tough love," I muttered. "What sort of organized crime outfit are you with?" was next. "Pre-teen beauty pageants," I sighed. "You wouldn't believe how cutthroat they are." "It is a crime to lie to a criminal investigator," he countered. "And if this was an interrogation," Nicole sizzled, "you would have to Mirandize him." "He has already been Mirandized," the puppy yipped. "Oh? On the charge of Criminal Conspiracy to commit; clarify the charge for me," Nicole grinned. Street looked to Javiera. "What? Special Agent Moslin, consider yourself to not know a damn thing about what is going on and proceed from there," Javiera informed him. The poor bastard looked perplexed. "I will put your situation in context. The woman to my side (Rachel) is about to slit your throat. The woman (Buffy) next to Ms. Lawless is going to snap your neck. They do not give a crap that you, or I, are federal agents. The issue is not what will you do, it is which one gets to you first," Javiera glared at him. "Clear?" SA Street wasn't done yet. "They will get away with it because I suspect they already have such a contingency worked out," Javiera educated him. Javiera was yet Another really clever lady. "Call for our back-up vehicle, pull into a private driveway where you cannot legally follow us, abandon the vehicle, get picked up and leave the city on a private aircraft to another nation," Rachel sounded bored. That was so nice of her to assist Javiera out that way. "Thank you," I told Rachel. "That was very helpful of you." "I want the male to shut-up," Rachel answered. "He's grating. Worse, he's making me wish Pamela was with us and that is so wrong." I held up a finger to forestall Street. "Honestly Dude, she's is not messing with your head. She wants you to shut up, so please be quiet," I urged him. I conceptualized the assessment he was making. Crap. "Guy, whatever workout routine you think gives you the edge is what she does to warm up in the morning," I pleaded. Street had the 'she's only a girl' look about him. "Her combat training is with live rounds, real weapons and a plethora of scrapes, cuts and broken bones. I have little doubt that she's killed people, some in cold blood." "You being Top Shot at the local range and a Judo Champ isn't going to cut it," I emphasized. "You think she's some kind of Special Forces operator?" he mocked me. Javiera and Nicole got nervous. I didn't. Beginner's Amazon Psychology; male opinions do not matter. Rachel and Buffy weren't insulted because he was a chattering chimp and nothing more. "Have you ever heard of an all-female Special Forces unit?" I prodded. "No," he snorted. I kept staring; and staring; and then the idea began creeping in. "Where do you train?" Street looked at Rachel. Rachel was looking at him, not 'at' him. "Please Rachel," I requested. That was really for Javiera's benefit. "Physical training started at age five, weapons training at nine, survival testing at twelve, craft training at fifteen, and acceptance at nineteen," she rattled off in a monotone. "I am thirty." "What is 'craft training'?" Javiera inquired. "Learning to kill people and destroy things," she began. "My specialties are small unit tactics, security operations, electronic countermeasures and Recon Sniper," Rachel replied. "I am an accepted close combat trainer and handheld weapon expert. Do I need to explain any of that?" Pause. Street snorted. "Do you ever sleep?" Street joked. Rachel looked to me then rolled her eyes. "Yes. Six hours; every day unless duty intervenes," she said. "Right; so, what martial arts style do you practice?" he asked. "Not one you have ever heard of," Rachel took a deep breath. "Try me," Street entreated. "I've practiced with several." "Male, do I look like I enjoy talking to you?" Rachel glared. "To alleviate your obvious confusion, I do not. If you wish to lower the hostility level, hand me your pistol and the sap at your back. Your possession of said weapons in the presence of Cáel complicates my job. This is almost as irritating is restraining myself from taking them from you like the infant you are." "You think you could?" Street challenged her. "I was with the 82nd Airborne in Afghanistan." "Special Agent Moslin, she doesn't care. You might as well have told her you were a weekend security guard at an amusement park," I reasoned. "In her mind, being born with a penis renders all your accomplishments so much hyperbole; kind of how her having tits lowered your respect for her as a fighter." That successful ended that diversion. (The wake) Life was wonderful. I walked in the door of the Marshal Fields Jr. Mansion, Charlotte pulled me into a vacant side room and handed me a secure phone. She mouthed the name of the person on the other end. "Hayden," I sighed to my High Priestess. "Ishara (not using my first name was a bad sign), I have heard a report that you have declared war on the Condotteiri," she gave me the 'I'm going to skin you alive' purr. "Yep and I urinated on the Seven Pillars too," I confirmed. "Don't worry about the Illuminati. I've got that alliance sown up." "I'm going to have a member of the Nine Clans give me my first born, Ishara daughter, so that prospective alliance looks good as well," I added. "I even managed to be diplomatic with Earth  and  Sky. It is not even noon yet either. No need to thank me. Knowing you are thinking passionate thoughts about me is enough." Charlotte looked like her eyes were going to bug out. "We are clear on the fact that there are fifty two other houses in the House, aren't we Cáel?" Hayden murmured. "Hey now," I reposed, "you said to not pick a fight inside Havenstone. You didn't say anything about these sons of bitches on the outside. I also added nineteen new members. Ishara rejected one who I now think was a closet Man-hater's man-hater." "I want you to come back to Havenstone immediately and keep your mouth shut," she commanded. "The Council will be rightly furious." "With me?" I asked. "Of course with you," Hayden growled. "With the aid of the Federal Assistant Attorney, I received computer discs with extensive and sensitive data on Havenstone, including pictures and locations of Sydney and Marilynn, your daughter and granddaughter," I lied. "The feds seized the Condotteiri's private jet." Silence. "What? Why am I only now hearing of this?" Hayden inquired with a deathly calm. "Do you want me to work with the feds to finish hunting down those last two killers while I send someone back with the data?" I persisted. An oddly longer pause. "Katrina insists there is no data," Hayden seethed. "Of course there is no data," I snapped back. "Unlike you, I'm loyal to EVERY MEMBER of the Host, not just the ones I approve of! If I had something that important, it would be on the way to you, if not already in your hands. My House Head has been murdered. Support me; don't support me. It doesn't change that reality. You have lowered your worth in my eyes, Hayden. We will talk of this when I return." And I hung up. Charlotte kept gaping at me. "Do you think I was clear enough, Charlotte?" I asked her. "Yes Ishara," she whispered. "I doubt a single ancestor misconstrued your wrath." That stopped me in my tracks. A rank and file Amazon using my house name was perfectly acceptable. A Council 'equal' saying it was the equivalent of your pissed Mom yelling out your entire name. "You agree with me?" I blinked. "Had it been Fatima, Beyoncé, or Ngozi there would be no debate," Charlotte answered. "I don't like you; okay, beyond your physical magnetism I do not like you. You are still the Head of House Ishara and we believe that the ancestors move through you." By 'we' I imagine she meant Rachel's SD detachment. A social paradigm presented itself. Amazons were surprisingly democratic for such an ancient society. Their bonds of sisterhood gave them greater liberty than any other group I'd heard of. All could take their grievances to the highest authority. They could hate me and die for me at the same time, in the same way Charlotte could be honest at that moment. I was her superior in rank yet her equal in blood. "You realize that if you tell Buffy about this she'll beat me black and blue," I teased Charlotte. "No can do, Ishara," she chuckled. "She's your sister and, quite frankly, you wove this disaster and if anyone deserves to remind you of the trouble you've wrought, it is her." "I would call you a heartless Amazon, but that's kind of redundant," I glowered playfully. I couldn't hide with Charlotte in the side room forever. It was my father's wake after all. Out I went and there was Buffy waiting for me. "We have a problem," Buffy murmured to me as I headed to the main reception area/family room. "There are some questions concerning your Aunt Stella and the Ishara legacy." "Thank God," I muttered. My crisis was momentarily sidelined. I moved into the gathering, letting Helena and Buffy bring the Amazon to my corner. "Quick and easy," I stated as the last one j

Encore: C is for Cunt with Dr Lori Beth Bisbey

Cáel's tombstone: For the love of women, women put him here.In 25 parts, edited from the works of FinalStand.Listen and subscribe to the ► Podcast at Connected..