Extending the MILF List Ch. 17

Don't get me wrong, this wasn't an effort to push the rising tide of pussy away from my door. I had a gut-level conviction that rejecting any pussy presented to me would stop the flow and I'd long since committed myself to the task of fucking every woman who dipped a nipple at me, even if it killed me. I'd rather die of too much pussy than of not enough. I might have been slightly deranged but it was a brilliant madness that I coddled and cherished with assiduous attention. It never once occurred to me that I was actually trying to avoid fucking Holly without actually rejecting her or the cosmic benefactor who had plopped her down into my lap, nipples saluting.

"Sonny? Sonny!"

My reverie broke over me like a divine water balloon dropped on me from on high, that is it made a big splash in my little puddle of consciousness.

"Is she gone?"

I had no true conception of how long I'd been spinning in my own circumference.

"No, dammit, don't move."

I turned out of Holly's clasping grasp on my back and like a finicky debutante, picked her hands off me one after the other.

"Miss, I am pretty sure if you check, you'll find I am not the one wearing the collar."

Holly stared at me, straightened then hunched down in my shadow, had the spotlight she feared been actually light and not line of sight.

"Holly, you must trust me for the next ten minutes. Or this won't work. None of it. Collar and chain, knees, open mouth and closed eyes...."

"Oh, her eyes were closed?"

I ignored the interruption, showing a puff of chagrin, though, in doing so.

"...none of those things are the real deal when it comes to submitting to Gary. You must trust and it must take the form of obedience but also, as the follow through, being willing to endure whatever happens next until your master rescues you from it, if he can. And there's the buzz that gives the tinkle in the chain, the razzamatazz that makes you come. He is going to take you on adventures that may dangle you just out of his reach and thus out of his control, and thus out of yours. If you submit to his sense of adventure, then you will be open to the penetration of an ecstasy you have never imagined into the very center of your soul."

I stopped. I was panting from excitement because for a moment there, I believed every word I spoke. Okay, that undervalues the moment I was having. It was like the moment I finally reached out and touched my own mother and found her tittering with excitement rather than bound up with umbrage. I saw clearly how to help Holly and wanted dearly to throw the dice and see what would happen but if I did and lost, Holly might mount my dick on her wall as her lone foray into big game hunting. Ha ha ha. Don't laugh, its not that funny.

"Do you trust me, Holly?"

She stared at me, popped her head around my shoulder and then crouched in my putative shadow again.

"What are you talking about?"

I so wanted her approval for my gamble but that denied the collar around her neck. I had to screw myself to the sticking place and do it without anyone's help. So I did.

I stepped to the side. Holly tried to move with me.

"Don't fucking move." I said through gritting teeth. I must say it froze the woman like I'd told her she was standing on a landmine or a hornet's nest. I stepped away from the line of sight.

"Point her out to me." I said.

Holly looked at me, a startled, cautious look on her face.

"It's her, she's the tall woman with the long pleated gray skirt and the broad shoulders."

"The light brown hair and the man's suit jacket?"

"That's right. That's Marjorie Romelingame."

I nodded, filled with my hubris and eagerness to let the dice come to a rest.

"Come along." I said.

Holly squeaked.

"What the fuck! Are you crazy?"

The chain tightened and I felt her resistance toughen. I turned back to her and moved in close. I reached out a hand, fast like an asp's hickey, and tucked a finger under her collar.

"If you want to keep this, you do as I tell you." I hissed through my teeth. I didn't feel angry but I felt intensely, something was intense behind my eyes and in the middle of my chest and it made it difficult to concentrate and to speak. "You follow along behind me as always or take it off and go back to John Romelingame, back to your life as it was before your brother traded you to me for past pussy. Do you understand me?"

She shook her head then nodded with great conviction.

"Good. You follow my lead and your life will never be the same." I proclaimed this with full certainty.

I turned around and walked in Mrs. Romelingame's direction, the other Mrs. Romelingame.

The chain jerked once in my hand then I felt Holly moving behind me, like a big Clydsdale following the carrot in my back pocket. The back of my body crinkled and tingled with Holly's horror at what I was risking. She knew nothing of the odds and the potential, all she could see was the bet and the cost of a loss.

She didn't stop though. She was panting like we were running when we walked past the woman. Marjorie Romelingame was standing peering into a shop window as we passed behind her. When she did not turn or speak, I heard Holly expel the swamp gas that boiled out of her churning stomach. I swear I felt it wilting the hair on the back of my neck.

Then it happened, just as I'd hoped.

"Holly? Is that you?"

"Oh Christ on a cricket." Holly murmured.

I stopped and turned, doing a nearly military about face with toe and heel.

Holly faced me, pale as a summer cloud. Her eyes grew wider and wider till I thought her eyebrows would disappear.

"Holly? Holly dear?" The woman called again. She hadn't yet connected Holly to me so she did not give attention to the fact I had stopped and watched her approach. She arrived.

"Holly? Oh my father's grace, what is this?" Marjorie Romelingame reached out a hand and lifted the line of silver connecting Holly to me. Her eyes found the collar around Holly's neck and then followed the line directly down to my hand. When her eyes raised up to meet my gaze, they widened then narrowed.

"Oh my gracious, who's this?"

I moved Holly's lead from my right hand to my left and extended my right. "I'm Sonny Duncan." I said. "You must be Marjorie Romelingame."

She looked surprised then looked back at Holly, then back at me again.

"Holly," she began archly, "just what is going on here? What is this?" She looked back and forth between us several times.

I had the dark inkling that I'd miscalculated.

"I uh, well...." Holly hadn't been too keen on precipitating this moment in her life so naturally her riffs were less than stellar and bereft of wit. "Marjorie, I need to explain...."

"I should say you do, young woman. If John saw you this way, he'd, he'd...."

"I doubt he'd notice, being too drunk to see past his own glasses." Holly finished.

"I, well, yes, I suppose you are right about that but he has had a bad...."

Holly seemed to be recovering her performance patter. She interrupted the woman fearlessly.

"I am done making excuses for him and so should you be, I am not accepting his excuses. He treats you abominably and you've done nothing but make excuses for him."

"Well, yes, he has, he does, but he treats you no better."

Holly reached out and shook the chain.

"So you see why this makes sense? If I am...I can't leave him. I won't. I promised and I won't do that but I told him when he lost his job if he couldn't have sex with me, I'd find someone else." She reached out a hand in my direction, patting the air between us and finally turned her head to find me. Her hand hooked in my elbow and she shuffled over against me.

For some reason, the feel of her breast against my arm, nuzzling me like a dog searching for a treat, sent a chilly thrill up my spine and down into my plumbing. When she ran her finger tips up and down my arm, even through my coat I felt it rattle around in me and my cock got hard.

"So? You've done what? Put an ad on Ralph's list and rented yourself out to some trust fund baby?"

Holly snorted.

"Don't go turning your nose up like you don't have pennies from heaven piling up behind your dikes. You never worked a day in your life." Holly snorted again like a fly flew up her nose and stopped to look around.

"I was a model and that is hard work for a young woman...."

Holly interrupted again.

"Right, until you grew those and they you tossed them around like a net and snared Gary and reeled him in. You got too hefty for the model game, they don't like tits and ass, unless you were stripping and haven't ever mentioned it."

I was watching the exchange with interest but this last comment put a halt to it. Holly was glaring at the woman but the expression that passed over Mrs. Romelingame's face and got stuck startled her to silence, which is saying something. Mrs. Romelingame looked not merely uncomfortable but distinctly guilty, ashamed even.

"Oh my holy sandal!" Holly cried. "You? A stripper?"

"Must we discuss this out in the open like this?" Margorie's eyes scanned up and down us, now that we were huddled together. "My dear, why would you ever leave the house looking like that? You may be enduring hard times but its no reason to look shabby. You are an attractive woman. You shouldn't waste it. It will not grace you forever!"

"Don't change the subject."

Marjorie appeared not to hear. She had a hand at her chin and her index finger tapped her thin lower lip. Finally she looked up at Holly.

"Holly, I fear I have been unwilling to face how bad things have gotten for you and John. I mean...will you let me buy you some nice clothes? I can. Like you say, I am neither penny nor dollar poor. I have done nothing to make things easier for you and I see now that I have neglected you. I have been solicitous of John and neglected to account for how his despondency has affected you. Please, let me do this. Will you?"

I give the woman credit, she asked the question and stopped talking. The fact is, doing so rather put Holly on the spot. She stared at Mrs. Romelingame and then looked up at me. After an over-long pause in their exchange, I realized she was inviting me to weigh in. I was skiing on my backside, so steering was nearly beyond me at this point. Holly blinked her eyes at me. I thought about it for a moment. Refusing a woman built like Holly the chance to shop for new clothes would be a sin against nature.

"I don't see why not. We have a little while before I need to be going."

Holly smiled and I knew I'd made a good call.

Mrs. Romelingame was either in love with clothes shopping or eager to avoid continuing the conversation she and Holly had begun for she set off at a rapid pace, her high heels clacking along on the Mall linoleum. We followed at pace. Holly clung to my arm and that hid collar and chain, a fact I took to be part of her eagerness to hook herself to me so snuggly.

Mrs. Romelingame arrived at the door to The Haughty Couture and immediately went on point. She stopped and stared intently at the door handle until I reached for it and pulled it open. She trooped through and Holly and I followed. The next twenty minutes were a flurry of activity, mostly holding things up and then dropping them back on the racks. She left a trail of rumpled displays behind her. She found three dresses she thought Holly "would look ravishing in" and she gestured Holly off to the dressing room.

I was feeling distinctly third-wheel-ish to that point and I suppose out of a sort of obdurate sense of hurt pride, I held onto the chain hooked to Holly's collar quite tightly when she stepped away to go change. She took a step and a half before she used up her slack and the collar pulled her up short. I didn't really know if the chain would hold but it did. Holly turned in mid-step and stopped, looking at me. To her credit, she said nothing but waited.

"What is the matter?" Mrs. Romelingame asked into the sudden cessation of shopping activity.

Holly didn't speak. One thing a man hates is when two women get to jabbering and giggling and making goo goo eyes over clothes and forget he's there. You start to empathize with chairs and other furniture getting moved around. Oh, I know it happens to everyone but it hurts a man's pride to not be the center of attention and when that happens, the ol' cock tends to pout, take his toys and go home in a snit. Now, I am not proud of that or even saying it happens to everyone but it happened to me and I reacted a bit churlishly. I admit it.

I shook the chain, now strung from my hand to her neck.

"I go where you go." I said softly. The tone squelched all the giggle out of the moment. Mrs. Romelingame looked aghast. I looked blandly at her. "You are welcome to join us in the dressing room." I said.

I don't know what she thought I was up to, but I could see the process and the result. She fluffed up her feathers and lifted her chin.

"I certainly shall. She said loudly. "It would be unconscionable of me not to accompany a married woman in the presence of a strange man into a dressing room."

"Especially with a collar around her neck and on a leash." I added, the devilish part of me arrived in a huff.

Both woman regarded me with opposite expressions; horror for Marjorie and vast amusement for Holly. Holly looked complacent, mocking and I had the feeling she dared to mock me, which in retrospect was narcissistic on my part, since surely she was mocking Marjorie. I didn't see it that way at the time and took some little petty umbrage and tugged on the chain. Holly took a step closer.

"I think it's time." I said softly. My cock voted whole heartedly in favor of the measure.

"Time for what?" Mrs. Romelingame asked, her voice an aghast whisper.

"For us to have sex. I rather like sex in dressing rooms. It has a certain j'en a sais quoi, that puts a flutter in my putter and there is nothing a guy likes better than a hole in one." I don't golf so I was poaching on Johnny Carson's wit terrain.

"Oh my god." Marjorie whispered. "You can't be serious."

I smiled, yes, unctuously, and looked at Holly. She looked like she was trying to connect the dots and couldn't tell if it was a jackass or a teeter toter.

"Holly, tell her." I said. "Or take off my collar and I'll go."

Holly's mouth opened and she looked over at Marjorie, then back at me. She cocked her head, emerging from the conundrum intact.

"I am yours to do with as you like." She said, almost brightly.

"Oh, no. Dear, you don't have to do this."

I looked at the woman, fully aware this was the wife of the man Holly had been carrying on a torrid, if erratic affair with for the last few months. I realized then how much of the story I was missing and figured there could be a lot to it I did not understand or understand properly. I decided that I wanted to put her on the defensive.

"Of course, if you wanted to step in as a surrogate, that would be fine too. I don't mind a little mid-morning strange from time to time."

"It's afternoon, Sonny." Holly spoke dryly. I didn't look at her but remained focused on Marjorie Romelingame.

After a couple hurried heartbeats, Marjorie turned away from us.

"The dressing rooms are this way." She said, her voice peeking over her broad shoulders as she eased through the racks towards the far corner. I shook the chain and clicked like I was starting a horse forward. Holly glared but did follow the woman, though not closely. Marjorie was ten or twelve feet in front of us when she reached the door and opened it. The Haughty Couture was a classy place, for an off-the-rack joint and the dressing rooms reflected its upscale aspirations. The carpet was clean and blue, the walls were white and clear and the lighting was florescent blue-white. The room was an L-shaped affair with a mirror at the far end and an upholstered bench across the wall of the other end of the room, so you could sit and not see yourself. There was plenty of room in it for all of us, even if what I'd suggested found acceptance.

"You wouldn't, would you Sonny?" Holly hissed back at me.

I didn't answer. Hell, I didn't know either. I felt like a happy hippo on roller skates.

We arrived at the door and came to a halt without going into the dressing room. For a moment, no one moved. Then I clicked again and shook the chain like reins again. Holly looked back at me and entered the room. I waited until there was no slack left and made like she tugged me inside, falling forward through the door. Marjorie was not amused but she did follow us in and closed the door.

"I don't know what you two have going on but I want it to stop."

I shrugged and looked from her to Holly.

"Do you want this to stop?" I asked.

Holly found herself back in that moment again, trying to connect dots and getting confused instead. It just didn't make sense to her, what was happening. I guess maybe that was my objective but my smooth flow encountered a cliff and lots of rocks.

"I know you have been sleeping with my husband." Marjorie said softly.

I think the temperature of the room dropped to just above freezing, or maybe to just above zero Kelvin, because everything I thought I was doing suddenly stopped being what I was doing, or even possible.

"Oh, okay." I said into the frigid silence.

"I don't know how you came to this, but I'd rather you return to sleeping with my husband than do this, Holly. It is bad enough that John has done this to you but I, my gracious I just can't stand by and let you prostitute yourself like this."

I was about to correct her characterization of the ball and chain, I mean collar and chain with some long explanation about harems and slut training to warm up the world but Holly beat me to the microphone.

"I made a deal, Marjorie. With John, I told him I'd marry him and I'd never divorce him or leave him and I told Sonny he could own me sexually. I told John that if he stopped having sex with me, I'd go somewhere else. I told him two years ago I was having sex with someone else...." Her voice failed her.

"With Gary?" Marjorie filled in for her.

Holly nodded.

"With Gary, yes." She glanced at me. "I wanted Gary to own me, to let me get to my knees for him and he refused. I need this. My god, I can't explain to you how important it is to me to have a man use me for sex again. Sonny is training me to enjoy sex again and I can't quit on him now unless I am willing to quit on John too."

"Gary refused you?" Marjorie said, wonder in her voice. "He told me he couldn't refuse her. He didn't think I knew about you two but how could I not? At first, when I figured out what you were doing, I was furious but then I considered..." she looked at me, "...when I considered that you could be doing this, this very thing, with a stranger I mean, I decided it was better to, to ah, keep it in the family, so to speak. I decided that if Gary could have us both, and it kept you from losing your mind, I'd let it be. I didn't know he'd refused you."

"I owe Sonny." Holly said. "I can't refuse him. He has a thing about sharing me with other people and he's been teasing me with it all week. I am so ready for a man, I'd never refuse him even if I could."

"Please, please don't do this." Marjorie whispered. "I'd rather see you sleeping with Gary than offering yourself like this to strangers."

"I'm not that strange." I said, but then realized I was lying. I was that strange. I guess I had to deny it in keeping with civilized behavior. Sex makes you do such crazy things it is far easier to just imagine you don't ever have sex than to try to integrate that craziness into your self-perception. If you don't deny it, the crazy that we let into our lives, then its like we planned it somehow and that is even worse than the crazy by itself. I sometimes think the therapeutic sciences take all the best copping mechanisms and label them as diseases, which forces us to find new ways to be crazy. I guess that keeps them busy trying to keep up.