With a deep sensual voice, Sam whispered, “I wish my tongue was your finger. I’d bury my face between your legs and lap you like sweet honey, suck your clit between my lips, then tongue fuck you until you begged for mercy. Can you feel it? Can you sense my hot tongue on your body? Can you imagine me kissing your pussy, sucking, nibbling, teasing?”
Meg’s eyes rolled back in her head and she panted out Sam’s name at the thought. His slow sensual chuckle made her squirm inside and out.
Her focus returned to the one man porn show currently playing just for her. She met him stroke for stroke as he worked at reaching climax. Her pussy ached with a fierce need for something to fill it. Every muscle in her body was tense, every nerve overly sensitized; even her nipples were hard and throbbed in time with the warm pulse building deep in her abdomen.
“Meg, baby, oh baby. You’re so beautiful. Your pussy is so wet I want to bury myself inside you and ride you until you scream my name.”
She whimpered at the thought. Staring at the red engorged head of his penis, currently weeping with desire, she licked her lips as she imagined tonguing him and taking him deep in her mouth. She whispered, “I wish you were here so I could suck you off. Suck you so hard you couldn’t stop yourself from letting go and yelling yee-haw, then I’d suck you some more until you got hard, and screw you until you begged me to stop. God I want your cock inside me.”
A low moan of, “Oh Jesus, Meg,” was his only response before he went into a jack off frenzy. Eyes firmly fixed on the screen she dropped the phone to the bed and plunged the fingers of her other hand deep inside her as she massaged her hard nub. Just when she thought she would die if she didn’t get off, Sam’s hand jerked and a jet of spunk shot out of his dick, the vision sent her tumbling over the edge. Her pussy convulsed around her fingers as her body arched and twitched with each wave of her orgasm. His yell of “yee-haw” floated up from the discarded phone mingling with the deep throaty moan of “Sam” that escaped her. She rolled onto her side, panting for air as the last jolts of fulfillment echoed through her.
“Meg? Meg?”
She searched the bed with her hand, too exhausted to move much more of her body. Finding the phone, she lifted it to her ear.
“I’m here.”
“Look at me.”
She rolled over and looked at the screen. Sam replaced his erection with his smiling face. Meg couldn’t help but smile back.
“I love you, Meg.”
She let out a sigh of contentment. “Love you too. That was amazing … but…”
“But?”
“I still miss the real thing.”
“I know. Me too. Maybe we can work something out when you come to collect me later.” He blew her a kiss. “I better go and get cleaned up before someone comes to investigate the noise.”
“Sam?”
“Yeah.”
“Are you covered in spunk?”
He chuckled. “Pretty much.”
“I wish I could lick it off for you.”
“Oh God, don’t say that. I’ll never get my bike shorts back on.”
She giggled at the thought of him wrestling an erection into the Lycra garment. A sigh escaped her. She wanted to curl up and sleep, preferably with Sam, but she had her orders. “I had better go and pick Mum and Maud up. I’ll see you later.”
“You bet ya. Bye.”
He hung up and signed off, and she flopped onto her back with another loud sigh. She really wasn’t in the mood for her mother’s histrionics. She needed to talk to her dad and find out how much longer the long game would take.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Showered, refreshed, and ready to handle anything, Meg maneuvered her car into the bar’s car park and pulled in next to a black Porsche with the license plate HARD ON. Obviously Maud hadn’t managed to scare Michael away, yet.
Deep bass music boomed from the building and she wondered just what could be going on inside. Her mother would never put up with listening to ‘trash’ like that. Perhaps she’d come to her senses, caught a cab and gone back to her tastefully decorated three bedroom home in what she considered one of the more salubrious suburbs. Meg pushed the door open and stood on the threshold, her mouth gaping at the scene inside. Apparently, she wasn’t as ready for anything as she’d thought.
Along the wall to her left, Michael and Chad appeared to be going through their paces for the big opening night act. They both wore skintight, black, leather stripper pants. Chad had on a black full face mask, only his height and build gave his identity away. Michael, on the other hand, seemed to want to be recognized. The mask of Zorro only covered enough of his face to tantalize, not to hide who he was. However, the two male strippers currently cracking whips and striding like a couple of peacocks to the booming raunchy guitar riff wasn’t what had rendered her speechless. She wasn’t even fazed that Maud, clad in some slinky silver leotard number, stood tied to what looked to be a torture device set up between the two hunks. The old lady writhed in time to the beat. Bondage was probably right up her alley, even better if she had male company. What halted Meg on the threshold to the bar was the vision of her mother apparently passed out face down on a table halfway across the room, a bottle of something still clasped in her hand.
Meg let the door bang behind her and marched into the bar. Laura stood up from behind the counter.
“What have you done to my mother?”
Laura frowned. “Nothing.” She pointed to where her mother sat. “She’s right there.”
Meg clenched her fists. Her mother didn’t drink. Well, not much more than the occasional sherry, and then only on special occasions. The Queen’s birthday, Royal Weddings, etc. She didn’t drink what appeared to be rum, straight from the bottle.
“Not what I meant. Did you ply her with drink?”
“Vivienne’s a grown woman and this is a bar. If she wants a drink, who am I to stop her? Leave her be. What harm will it do if she learns to let her hair down a little? You’re always saying she’s too uptight.”
“Letting go a little and getting roaring drunk are not the same thing. She’ll be mortified when she sobers up.”
Laura grinned. “If she sobers up.”
Meg glanced back just in time to see her lift the bottle to her mouth and take a large glug before coughing and spluttering.
The music continued to rattle the room as she crossed to her mother’s table and removed the bottle from her hand before she had a chance to take another swig. Her mother looked up at her and grinned. “Meg, Meggie, my darling, my little girl. You wanna drink?”
Meg pulled out a seat and slid into it. She’d seen many sides to her mother over the years, but never drunk, never with her hat at a jaunty angle, and absolutely never with her skirt halfway up her thighs.
“No I don’t, and neither do you. What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
After a great deal of concentration she slurred out, “Did you know your dad’s got another woman?”
“What?”
Her mother waggled a finger in the air. “I saw that brazen hussy, Milly Sanders, coming out of my house wearing my bathrobe and he stood there on the doorstep seeing her off in nothing but one of my fully imported Egyptian cotton towels. I’ll be a complete laughingstock.” At that her mother buried her face in her hands and burst into tears.
Oh God. What was her dad playing at? Surely not? And not with Milly. She had to be at least fifteen years younger than him, and rumor had it she had a very high sex drive to go along with her manmade boobs. Meg refused to jump to conclusions. Her dad would have a reasonable explanation as to why the vamp had been in his house, naked, or near naked. Any explanation would be better than buying into what her mother clearly believed was going on. He loved her mother, and from the way she was wailing loud enough to drown out the music, it seemed the feeling was mutual, unless she was only concerned about her reputation.
Meg wrapped her arms around her mother and held on until the sobbing subsided.
A glance behind her revealed an all but naked Michael Monaghan with a steaming mug in hand. He placed it on the table and reached out to push a lock of errant curls behind Meg’s ear. The boy had a rock hard body, and enough to fill his costume and then some. She refused to drop her gaze below his face. The glimpse of posing pouch she’d seen left nothing to the imagination. Not that she needed an imagination; Michael had gladly dropped his pants to show off his tackle when he mistakenly thought she’d been the one hiring male prostitutes rather than Laura. She couldn’t help but wonder if the deep red garment was made to measure for it to be so snug.
“Can I get you something? You look like you could use a massage.” He raised an eyebrow seductively and any thoughts Meg might have been harboring about how sweet it was of him to care about her mother quickly disappeared. The man always played the game, and this was just another angle to try and get into her knickers. How many times did she have to refuse him, and why was she such a big attraction to the male of the species all of a sudden? She had all the man she needed in Sam. The thought of Sam made her sigh. Thanks to her dad’s errant ways, her mother seemed less, not more, likely to go home any day soon. Perhaps she should just kidnap Sam and run away with him.
Michael moved the mug in front of her mother. “You change your mind and want some stress relief; you know where to find me.”
A plaintive wail drew all their attention to the stage before she had a chance to come up with a suitably cutting response. Maud struggled with her bindings.
“Where did you go? Did I nod off? Did I miss the show? I only agreed to this because you promised the full Monty. I bet getting me to agree to being tied up was a trick, wasn’t it? Probably better I missed it. I’ve seen more meat on a butcher’s pencil than on you, you Irish git. I’ve hung more impressive baubles on my Christmas tree, and at least they glow in the dark.”
Apparently the tirade was aimed at Michael. A man who appeared to have no intention of saving the hapless pensioner still chained to the torture device. Maybe it was revenge for her getting him to handcuff himself naked to a hotel bed before revealing she would be his first, and as it turned out, last client. Meg couldn’t keep the grin from her face as she remembered him begging her to save him from Maud.
No doubt fed up with the noise, and having no beef with Maud, Chad wandered toward the stage butt naked and Meg put her hands over her eyes, positive her mother would have a cow. Drunk or not, she’d bet her life naked people were well outside her mother’s comfort zone. When she dared to take a peek between her fingers she wished she hadn’t. Her mother’s mouth hung open as she gazed agog at Chad’s impressive appendage. Her mother drinking was a shock. Her mother staring at a man’s dick was too much.
Meg got to her feet and tugged at her mother’s arm. “Come on, Mum, time to go home. Maybe we can talk to Dad, and then come back later for Maud.”
Her mother shrugged her off. “No rush. Besides, I’ve got nothing to say to your dad now that he has another woman. Maybe I need another man just to show him I don’t need him.”
With a groan Meg got to her feet and crossed to the bar, turning her back on her mother ogling the floor show. Bad enough Aunt Maud was an old letch, but there was no way she wanted to even think about her mother having a sex drive, never mind a sex life. Michael put a glass on the timber top and added a generous slug of Whiskey. “Best be getting that down you before you fall over. You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Meg tossed the drink back in one and slammed the empty glass down. “Is she still ogling Chad?”
He grinned. “Nope, she’s lurching toward the stage. I’m not sure if she wants to help rescue Maud or grope your man.”
“He’s not my man, he’s Laura’s.”
“Oh yeah, I forgot you’ve got the personal trainer to whip you into shape.” He winked and she averted her gaze. Her love life was no concern of Michael Monaghan’s. The lecherous man whore would screw anything, well anything except Maud apparently. She couldn’t keep the smile from her face when she remembered him whimpering to be saved from the overzealous old lady. Such a He man.
A loud fart rent the air and Meg could hear her mother giggling. She didn’t even want to contemplate where the noise had come from. No one dared so much as belch around her mother on any normal day, but today was turning out to be far from normal. On a normal day her mother was a sober upstanding member of society and she was fast coming to the conclusion she preferred her that way.
Laura laughed. “Who knew Vivienne could be so much fun?”
Meg didn’t like her mother being fun. Who would nag her about the way she dressed, or the fact she needed to find a man and settle down? Meg glared at Laura. “When you’ve sobered Mum up, you can take her and Maud home.
Laura followed her to the door. “Why? Where are you going? You need to lighten up, babe. Your mum’s much more fun when she’s drunk, and Chad can handle anything.”
Mums weren’t supposed to get drunk and they didn’t leer at naked men. As much as she hated the way her mother treated her, she wasn’t ready to trade her in for a younger model of Maud, wanting to discuss sex toys and bondage positions. Not trusting herself to stay calm if she continued the conversation, Meg climbed in her car and screeched out of the car park.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Meg drove around for half an hour trying to convince herself things were going to get better, and if she just ignored the situation, it would all go away. She even stopped outside Harding’s Travel and contemplated buying two tickets to Fiji and eloping, but she’d maxed out her credit card and the company had refused to lift her credit limit. When she finally pulled up outside her parents’ home, she let out a loud sigh. As much as she hated the idea of a conversation with her dad about his sex life with the neighbors, it appeared someone needed to give both her parents a stern talking to if things were ever going to get back to normal.
Any other day she would knock on the door and let herself in with her key, but not today. What if her dad were at it on the dining table with Milly, or some other willing female from the neighborhood? She would suffer irreparable mental damage and probably go blind.
She rang the doorbell and waited. Just when she was about to give up the door swung open and she stared speechless at the vision of her dad apparently butt naked except for the towel wrapped around his waist. Had Milly come back? Or had he run out of clean clothes and was reduced to living like a naturist? Maybe she should offer to do some laundry for him. Or maybe it was time to make a hasty retreat. Best she not know the full situation. It wasn’t her problem. Her parents were adults and could sort out their relationship issues themselves.
“I’ll come back later if you’re busy.” She stepped off the porch, terrified she had walked into the middle of something she would rather not know about. If she didn’t go inside she could deny all knowledge. She didn’t want to be the one to tell her mother she was right and her beloved Robert had moved on. God, her mother might move on as well. She could end up with a stepfather younger than she was, if the way her mother was eyeing up Chad was any indication of where her desires lay. And what if her dad married Milly? Meg couldn’t compete with Sian, her always glamorous older sister, never mind having a stepmother who looked like she’d stepped off the front cover of Playboy.
“Meg? I just had a shower. I’d forgotten what hard work it was.”
She held up her hand. “I don’t need the sordid details and I’m not telling Mum. It’s none of my concern. You’re both adults and can sort this mess out yourselves.”
Her dad chuckled. “The only mess is the one I need to clean up out the back. I’m sure your mother couldn’t care less that I finally got around to cutting the Jasmine back and replacing the roof on the pergola, seeing as she doesn’t live here anymore. Why, what did you think I was talking about?”
“So you’re not �
�� you weren’t…” Meg waved her arms and huffed, not sure she should have started either sentence.
“Having sex with Milly? Only in my dreams.”
Heat flooded Meg’s face and it only got worse when her dad laughed and pulled her into his arms for a hug before stepping back and letting her inside the house.
While he went to get dressed, she put the kettle on and made two cups of coffee. A ferret through the pantry revealed an almost empty packet of TimTams and not much else. Cooking and shopping had never been high on her dad’s agenda. The one time her mother went away for a weekend with her bowling ladies, her dad had fed her and Sian cheese and vegemite sandwiches for every meal. He had tossed them on the coffee table to save on the washing up. He’d sworn them both to secrecy and paid them off with ice cream. Her mother would have been horrified if she knew her children hadn’t been given three square meals a day and been made to sit up at the table like proper little ladies.
Grey hair still damp and tousled, her dad slid onto a stool at the kitchen counter, took a biscuit from the packet, and dunked it in his coffee before devouring it with much slurping and licking of fingers.
Meg rested an elbow on the counter and watched him enjoy his treat.
Apparently satisfied, he smiled at her, but it never reached his deep blue eyes. He looked tired. She reached out and rubbed his forearm. “How are you doing, Dad?”
“Not as well as you seemed to imagine. I’m guessing your mother told you about Milly?”
“I found her at the male strip joint Maud and Laura are opening on Friday. She was drinking and making no sense. You knew she knew?”
“I saw the cab pull away from the curb when I let Milly out. Vivienne is the only person I know who sits in the back of a cab, hat and all, like the Queen Mother with a chauffeur.”
Meg twirled the spoon in her cup. “What about Milly?”
Male Review Page 10