Aunt Penelope's Harem (9 page)

Yep, Aunt Penelope’s skills tests were right on the money…

Melanie cast that thought out of her mind. She wasn’t having
sex with Carl, harem stud. This was Carl, her lover.

Carl, her lover, who just happened to be able to fuck like a
pro.

There wasn’t a clock in the room, but Melanie estimated that
they had to be going for at least ten minutes before Carl pulled out of her. He
rolled over onto his back. Melanie took the hint and straddled him, easing his cock
into her pussy, and then rode him for all she was worth.

The bedsprings shrieked.

Melanie’s loud neighbors had nothing on them at this moment.
In fact, she half expected Dawn and her seven guys to knock on the door and ask
them to please keep it down.

She rode him as if this was the last time she’d fuck in her
life. Her breasts bounced and her hair fell down over her face and she hollered
as if trying to wake the dead…or even her butler.

Though he was clearly enjoying every second of it, Carl
looked surprised and perhaps a little unnerved by her vigor. Let him fear her.
No, she didn’t have a perfect body or even a nearly perfect one, but damn it,
she was going to fuck Carl like he’d never been fucked.

She pounded herself against him, not letting his cock
escape, waiting for him to beg for mercy.

“Oh, shit,” he said. “I’m almost there again!”

Melanie reacted to this news bulletin by picking up her pace
even more.

She got a leg cramp.

“Oh, God, just a few more seconds…I’m almost there…”

Melanie knew that this would be an overwhelmingly
inconvenient time to dismount, so she continued her wild thrusting, as the pain
in her leg intensified with every passing moment.

“I can’t hold back any longer!” shouted Carl.

My leg’s gonna fall off! My leg’s gonna fall off!

He came, spurting inside of her with amazing force. She took
a few seconds to enjoy this sensation, and then raised herself off of him, got
off the bed, and hop/limped around the room, cursing.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Fuck!” Melanie replied.

“Should I have pulled out? That wasn’t exactly presented as
an option.”

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” Melanie bent over and massaged her leg.

Carl sat up. “I’ve never had that reaction before.”

“Leg cramp,” Melanie said through her clenched teeth.

“Ah, that’s much better than what I was thinking.” He got
out of bed and helped her massage the muscles. Before too long the pain had
subsided.

“Sorry,” said Melanie. “It was a bad one.”

“I guess I should have asked about birth control a lot
sooner.”

“No, I had that covered. Actually, if you average out the
two years I spent on birth control pills that had nothing to control, this was
one expensive fuck.”

“Then we’d better try to get our money’s worth. In a little
while.”

* * * * *

In a little while, Melanie was bent over the bed as Carl
thrust into her from behind. She came twice before they climbed onto the bed
and did it from the side. He brought her to a third orgasm as he reached around
and worked her clitoris with his thumb.

A little while after that, he hovered over her, fucking her
mouth, while she kept her hands on his waist to ensure that he didn’t plunge
too deep. When he was near his release, she made him scoot back and rub his
penis between her breasts until he came.

They took a short break.

After the break, they decided that they liked doing it
doggy-style with Melanie bent over the bed, so they tried that again. It went
well.

They fell asleep in each other’s arms.

Carl and Melanie woke up, kissed for a while, and then
headed for the showers. They entered the mattress room, where Julian lay naked
on the floor, asleep, with Dawn snuggling next to him.

She opened her eyes and groaned. “What time is it?” she
asked, her voice a ghastly croak.

“About eight in the morning,” Melanie replied. “What time
did you go to bed?”

“Oh, fuck, who knows? Feels like ten minutes ago. There’s
coffee in this place, right?”

“Lots of it.”

Dawn ran a hand through her severely messed-up hair. “Is
there a wheelchair, too? I could use a wheelchair.”

“I’m sure we can dig one up. I’m going to want a full
report, by the way.”

“Same here. Oh, since you have bare feet you’ll want to
watch your step.”

Melanie and Carl showered, kissed, dried each other off, and
got dressed. Dawn, or the zombie that looked like Dawn, joined them halfway
through the process, and they left the harem together to enjoy a hearty
breakfast.

* * * * *

With a few cups of coffee in her, Dawn was much more alert,
and sat there in the kitchen eating her ham and cheese omelet with a dreamy
look on her face.

“We need to go out and do something,” Melanie said. “All of
us together. Maybe a museum or something.”

“Wild orgy last night, high culture today,” said Dawn.
“Sounds good.”

“I’m serious.” Melanie turned her attention to Carl. “You
guys can’t just hang around the harem all day. That’s no way to live. You need
to get out there, experience what the world has to offer.”

“Look who’s talking,” said Dawn.

“Zip it, slut.”

“I don’t know that the other guys are exactly the museum
type,” Carl remarked.

“Well, tough titties on a platter. I’m in charge here, and
dammit, we’re going to a museum.”

Carl frowned. “Did you really just say ‘tough titties on a
platter?’”

“I did, and I’ll say it again. Carl, you notify the troops,
and I’ll make sure the limo is ready. It’s time for a good old fashioned social
outing.”

* * * * *

The doorbell rang.

Rupert looked through the peephole and then opened the door.
He didn’t bother to conceal his grimace at the sight of Penelope’s daughter,
Gretchen, who wore a genuinely appalling green blouse. Sometimes Rupert
wondered if anybody knew how to dress these days.

Gretchen stepped past him and glanced around the foyer. “Is
that bitch here?”

“No, ma’am, the bitch is not here. That would explain why my
phone call began with me telling you that your cousin had left with all eight
of the men.”

Gretchen glared at him. “Unpleasant little shit, aren’t
you?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Well, enough of the lovey-dovey stuff. Show me the tapes.”

* * * * *

“Dude, what
is
that?” asked Stephen, tilting his
head.

“I think it’s a dog,” said Dennis.

“It can’t be a dog. It’s green and has seven legs.”

“I think it’s a symbolic dog.”

“Symbolic of what? Somebody who can’t draw for shit?”

“Shhhh,” said Melanie, as an elderly museum patron shot them
a dirty look. “Use your indoor voices.”

“You losers just don’t appreciate art,” said Leo. “That dog
represents man’s best friend in an era where man don’t deserve a best friend.
It’s green because of humanity’s crime of envy, and the extra three legs are
because the artist had some extra paint lying around.”

“You guys really need to behave yourselves,” said Melanie.
Dawn had already caused problems by fucking Julian and Stephen in the ladies’
room, and Melanie was determined that they were going to have an educational
afternoon. “Don’t make us withhold pussy tonight.”

Melanie realized that she’d said that far too loud. She
quickly moved down the hall before she could see what kind of look the elderly
patron was giving her.

“A lot of my paintings are better than the green
seven-legged dog,” Carl pointed out.

“Of course they are. You should start hitting up some of the
local galleries. I mean, you’re good enough that you could be making a living
at this.”

Carl shrugged. “Maybe I will.”

“I’ll help you.”

“Really?”

“Sure.”

“Who knows,” he said. “Maybe I’ve got a new career ahead of
me.”

* * * * *

“You guys really need to be thinking about your future,”
said Melanie, as the ten of them sat in the museum cafeteria eating really bad
hamburgers. “You can’t do this kind of thing forever. Your looks and your virility
aren’t going to last forever.”

Stephen looked very disturbed by this revelation.

“I want all of you to name something you want to do with
your lives besides be a harem sex slave. Leo?”

“I’m already a bartender,” Leo said. “I guess if I had to
quit the sex slave business, I’d just go back to doing that full time.”

“See how easy that was?” Melanie asked the rest of them.
“What about you, Nate?”

“I don’t know.”

“Sure you do. You’re good at spatial organization, right?
Perhaps you could be an architect or something.”

Nate brightened up. “I do like designing homes in my mind.”

“And architects make good money.”

“I’ve been saving most of my money. I guess I could go to
architect school. It might be fun. At least I could tell my parents what I
really do. They think I’m a cowboy.”

“You should do it,” Melanie encouraged. “Julian, what do you
want to do?”

“I’d love to be a singer.”

“Really? Let’s hear you sing.”

Julian launched into a rendition of something that might
possibly have been “Satisfaction” or just an impression of somebody clearing
their throat for a really long time. The group stopped him out of consideration
for their future ability to hear.

“Maybe you need to think of another option,” Melanie
suggested.

“I also like to cook.”

“Cooking! Cooking’s a great career choice! You need to take
cooking classes. Maybe you and Nate could carpool as he goes to his architect
classes. Stephen, what about you?”

“I’m happy right where I am.”

“Yes, but where you are can’t last. There has to be
something else you want to do. Let’s hear it.”

“There’s nothing.”

“Sure there is. You’ve got a hidden desire.”

“Well…”

“Tell us. We won’t laugh.”

“I want to be President of the United States.”

Everybody stared at him.

“Good. That’s a good one,” said Melanie. “Nothing wrong with
being ambitious. And if it doesn’t work out, you can always govern a large
city.”

“Nah,” said Stephen. “I’m not interested in that governing
crap. I just want to be President.”

“Okay, well, that’s fine. Maybe your looks and virility
won’t
fade and you’ll be set for life. Keith?”

“Ma’am, I’d like to teach young children the importance of
physical fitness. It’s often overlooked in our society, where kids spend far
too much time playing video games and watching television, and I think I could
really make a difference, ma’am.”

“Great! And, see, if Stephen becomes President, he could
appoint you the leader of some physical fitness cabinet or something.”

“Ma’am, I don’t really think Stephen is going to become
President, ma’am.”

“Well, still, this is about keeping our options open,” said
Melanie. “Who’s left? Ben?”

“I guess I could be an architect, too. I bitch a lot about
the way parking lots are designed, and maybe it’s time for me to do something
about it.”

“Excellent, excellent. You know, nobody here has said massage
therapist, and I think that’s definitely something any one of you could do for
a living.”

“If I were a massage therapist, could I pick my clients?”
asked Dennis.

“I’m sure you could.”

“Because I’ll do it for beautiful, sexy women such as you,
milady, but I don’t really care to touch hairy, nasty men.”

“I think that could be arranged, once you’ve established a
reputation and built up a client base. You may need to be certified, I’ll have
to check. But, see, you all have great career potential ahead of you. Why not
reach for the stars?”

“What about Carl?” asked Dawn.

“I want to be an artist,” he admitted. “I take that back. I
am
an artist. I just want to do it for a living.”

“That sounds pretty girly,” said Julian.

“Bite me, Julia Child.”

Julian gasped in mock outrage, and then they all broke out
laughing.

They toured the rest of the museum, briefly losing Julian,
Stephen, and Dawn as they fucked in another bathroom, and then took the limo
back to the mansion.

* * * * *

“Oh, hi,” said Melanie with surprise, as she walked into the
dining room to find Gretchen seated at the table. “I wasn’t expecting company.”

“It’s hard for me to feel like company in my own mother’s
house,” said Gretchen. “I hope you’re enjoying it.”

“Look, Gretchen, I know you’re upset, and I know it’s
unfair, but I can’t help what Aunt Penelope said in her will.”

“I can.”

“What are you talking about?”

Gretchen smiled, though it darkened her features rather than
brightening them. “Why don’t you have a seat, cousin dear?”

Melanie pulled out a chair and sat down.

“How was yesterday evening? Recreational?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Then let me refresh your memory. You fucked eight guys last
night.”

Melanie felt her stomach plunge. “No, I didn’t.”

“Okay, fine, get technical about it. The fact remains that
you and your tramp friend engaged in some pretty shocking behavior.”

“That’s none of your business.”

“It
is
my business. It was bad enough when my mom did
it, thinking I was too stupid to know about it, but now I’ve got you doing the
same thing in
my
house.”

“It’s not your—”

“It will be. I’ve got the whole thing on tape. Every
perverted second of it. I’ve seen your flabby ass from every angle. I’m
surprised I didn’t puke.”

“Where the hell did you get the tapes?” Melanie demanded.

“Rupert set up the hidden cameras before you moved in.”

“Okay, so he made tapes,” said Melanie with a much more
casual attitude than she actually felt. “So what? You gonna sell them on the
Internet? Boost your income by getting into the pornography business?”

“That’s an idea. But, no, I was thinking that I could hold
on to the tapes for safekeeping, and you could get your skanky self out of my
house. Otherwise I release them to the media.”

“You think the media cares? I’m not a celebrity.”

“I think they’ll care that you’re keeping paid sex slaves in
your house. Prostitution’s illegal, you know. I know my mom tried to cover it
with complicated paperwork, but I’m sure my lawyer and I can prove that it’s
all bullshit. You might even do a little jail time. And if not, I think it’s a
good enough story to attract plenty of attention. Harems aren’t exactly
commonplace these days, and you certainly don’t see a lot of dumb bitches
inheriting them from their aunts, even if that was all a load of crap.”

“What do you mean?”

“Mom didn’t leave you the harem. She was fucked up, but not
that
fucked up. I convinced Rupert to keep the guys around, to tell you and them
that Mom had wanted you to inherit her harem. I have to admit, I figured
somebody as lonely and homely as yourself would end up slutting herself out to
one of them, but I never dreamed you’d invite a fucking friend and let them all
have a go at you. My tapes prove that your house is a hotbed of illegal
activity, and that should be enough to get the terms of the will overruled.”

“Secret tapes made in my house wouldn’t be admissible in
court.”

“They would if they were
your
tapes that just
happened to be found by your butler. I’m sure the judge will have no problem
believing that somebody who’d fuck eight guys at once would tape the whole
thing to watch over and over.”

Melanie didn’t know what to do. She felt physically ill.

“Get out of here,” she said quietly.

Gretchen pushed back her chair and stood up. “I can see that
you need some alone time. Think about it, though. I’ll be back tomorrow. Try to
keep your panties on until then.”

She gave Melanie a heartless grin and then left the dining
room.

Melanie just sat there, listening as the front door opened
and closed.

A moment later, Rupert entered. “I trust everything has been
worked out to your mutual satisfaction?”

“You piece of shit,” said Melanie.

“Yes, ma’am. I don’t believe I’ll be providing anymore
services until the new owner takes over, so if you don’t mind I’ll be taking my
leave.” Rupert walked off without waiting for a response.

Melanie stared at the table.

I’m not going to cry, she promised herself.

But she did anyway.