Golliwog's Caewal

Fingers Whitehouse was working his magic on bare skin again. The strains of Debussy's La Mer drifted through his Bose computer speakers, and cinnamon incense flavored the air. A voluptuous woman with luxurious dark hair and honey tanned skin lay face down on his queen sized frat house bed: Mary Jane Simpson, his girlfriend's mother, with whom he got very well acquainted three months earlier at the ZZ Cotillion. She'd gotten him as her prize at the Beef Cakewalk to give her a massage, and since then she'd been a regular customer of his every other week when she came up to visit her daughter, Kaylee. He rubbed and stroked her flesh, working in aromatic oil and teasing her open thighs. "Oh, Fingers, that's wonderful," she purred. "Your virtuosity isn't limited to the piano. I'll give you a year to stop this."

He shrugged his shoulders. "I've got to finish you before 3:30; I'm meeting Kaylee right after her class. We've got to come up with a charitable fundraiser next year or we'll be put on probation by the Panhellenic council." His talented fingers probed between her legs, teasing her lips and coaxing out her bud.

"Mmmm, right, Fingers." She rolled over, revealing her tight stomach and perfectly tanned breasts. "Pleasure before business. I still have to check into the Hilton, and make reservations for dinner. You know what to do, stud. Hit me with the Zeta Ripple and make my day."

Sliding down, he came up under her legs, reaching around her hips to caress her breasts and planting his face in her steamy crotch. Laying on his stomach was uncomfortable, since his erection was squashed under his body, but he knew he would be repaid one way or the other. His limber fingers started to squeeze and milk her nipples while his tongue alternated between swirling around her labia and tracing the letter Z on her clitoris, the Zeta Ripple she taught him. She was quickly writhing and moaning softly in time with the music before her great wave crested with the music. He held her, shuddering, until her coasted down from her orgasm and was breathing normally once again.

Her eyes looked him over as he stood up. "Seems like you enjoy this as much as I do," she purred, reaching forward to stroke him through his jeans. "Good thing you're a young man: my daughter would hate me if I ruined you for her enjoyment later this evening." Pulling his dick out of its containment, she licked her lips. "Oh, I think he's very close to giving me what I want. Stroke him for me, Fingers, stroke him. Let me see him get harder and harder until he blows his load all over me."

His hand went down by reflex and began stroking his rod. "I wish you would do more than watch."

"I may do that today," she smiled. "You never know. Must keep you guessing, must let you wonder what I'll do next." She batted her coquette eyes and gave her shining red lips and long, teasing lick. "But you love jerking off in my smiling face, don't you?"

"Yes," he said softly, as a drop of white liquid escaped the end of his cock.

"You love stroking your rod with my lips just inches away."

"Yes."

Her tongue darted out and gave the fluid a quick lick. "Never knowing what I'll do with your magic juice: rubbing it all over my face, rubbing it all over my tits, rubbing it all over my stomach and between my legs."

"Yes."

"Maybe I'll stroke your balls a little bit. Maybe I'll breathe heavily on your cock at the right time."

"Yes." His hand started going faster and faster as his cockhead turned a deeper shade of red.

Her fingers started playing with the sensitive skin of his testicles. His breathing grew shorter and faster, and she gave his cockhead another quick lick. "Think about it, Fingers, maybe this time I take it all in my mouth, like I did the first time. Maybe I drink down all the lovely, hot, foaming protein you have for me. Would you like that?"

"Yes," he whispered almost inaudibly.

"I didn't hear you"

"Yes," he said hoarsely.

"Do you mean it?"

"Yes."

"Tell me. Tell me what you want me to do."

He whined a little and his hand went into overdrive. "Take it in your mouth. All of it. Suck me. Eat me. Swallow it all.."

"A dignified woman like me?" she said, a look of mock horror appearing on her face. "Your girlfriend's mother? Let you shoot your unworthy sperm in my mouth, a palette used to delicate flavors and fine wines? You think you're worthy of this?"

"Come on, Mary Jane. You done it before. Come on, come on, you want to."

She paused for dramatic effect and pouted. "Say the magic word." He looked at her with his eyes unfocused, not understanding. She smiled up at him, her lips almost brushing his throbbing member, a mocking smile on her face. "The magic word," she whispered in a sultry tone. "You know it. One little word. The one your momma taught you when you were a little boy."

It took a moment until he screamed: "Please!!!"

She sucked him into her mouth at precisely the right moment, as his orgasm hit him, sending pulse after pulse of semen down her hungry throat. His body quivered and he almost lost his balance, but she held his hips and steadied him as she devoured his love juice. The music continued to rise and fall as she milked him expertly, and after a couple of minutes he was spent. Not one drop escaped her lips, and when she released his freshly limp member from her mouth, she gave him a huge, open mouthed smile to show it was empty. "I like the thought Kaylee will have to work for her pleasure tonight. Let her have the tough one. Better for her if you don't pop too soon."

Fingers chuckled. "It's a public service you give me," he muttered as he put his cock back in his trousers.

"Indeed. Thanks, sweetheart. Just what the doctor ordered. Like it?"

He sighed. "More than I hoped for." He sat down on a chair by his computer. "Now I just have to think of something quick, or she may not be in the mood. I'll look like an idiot if I don't get an idea for the charity event."

The clock read 3:00, and after checking it Mary Jane lay there contented, her nipples peaking into hard pebbles, happy to relax naked with a young man who adored her. "I know something that will be a great fundraiser, something we did when I was in college. The Brown Berry Ball."

"Oh? What was that about?"

She shook her head. "No, no, no, lover. Like Ringo Starr said: 'It Don't Come Easy'. You need to discover this on your own. You're meeting Kaylee at her Zeta house, aren't you?"

"Yeah."

"Get her to take you to the Zeta Rho Omicron archives, look up the scrapbooks from the Eighties. You'll find something pretty soon that will amaze you, and stimulate your imagination. We can talk about it when we meet for dinner later."

He stood up and paced a little. The room was rather small, and he went up and down by the side of the bed a few times as she lounged there. Finally, she sighed, got up and stripped the sheets. "Can't have Kaylee suspecting anything, just in case she comes over here before you make the bed. Take this down to your laundry room, and when you get back everything will be in order. No, I'm not going to let you live with the smell of my pussy for days on end. I know you're fantasizing about doing her and me at the same time, just know it won't happen. In the meantime, I won't have her thinking you're fucking with me."

"But you like this."

She drew him close and gave him a huge French kiss. "Yes, cheating on my daughter with you gets me very turned on, and I don't have to worry about you trying to steal my fortune like other young studs I could tame because you're going to get it anyway after you marry Kaylee. But I enjoy playing this game, and she doesn't need to know everything I'm doing. Let's just keep these little massage sessions our secret for now."

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Git." Fingers took his sheets down the hall, heavy with her musk, and dropped them into the chute. Fortunately the frat housemother was used to anonymous stained linens, and didn't care who her boys fucked as long as it wasn't her. When he returned to his room, his bed was made with fresh sheets and she was gone. During the summer school session, only Goggles Larkin and Chubby Atkinson were living with him in the Zeta house, and Fingers trusted them to keep his secrets without reservation. He opened the windows to wash her perfume out of the air.

Walking across campus on the June afternoon, Fingers saw a few students coming out of their afternoon classes. The warm weather kept clothing to a minimum, which tweaked his exhausted prostate. He saw Kaylee Simpson, his Zeta girlfriend, coming across campus toward him wearing a skimpy halter top, brief shorts and sandals. Her dark, richly textured hair was drawn into a knot behind her head, and a frown creased her face. "How was your day, Sweetheart?" she began.

"All right. Finally got the Rachmaninoff Etudes Tableau memorized, so Maestro should be happy. Says I should be focused on getting to the top of the class at Julliard when I get there."

"Sounds good to me. You spend too much time playing with your joystick."

"Huh?" For a brief moment he thought she could read his mind, and knew what he'd just been doing.

"Your damn Worlds of Warcraft."

"Oh." He rolled his eyes, convinced his secret affair with her mother was still safe.

"It's time you grew up." She blew out an exasperated breath and pouted. "My day's been a shitload of frustration. Got a B- on my Chaucer paper, and I'll never understand Wittgenstein in that damn Philosophy class."

"Poor baby. You want a back rub?"

A hint of a smile crossed her lips, but she shook her head. "Not till after we have dinner with Momma. We should probably put our heads together and figure out a charity to help this fall; Macy Evers is going to eat us alive if we don't come up with something."

He nodded with mock gravity: "That confirms something I've though for a while."

She punched him hard on the arm: "Creep. Doesn't matter if she's a lesbian, and I know your demented little perverted imagination is imagining her in action."

"No, not really. Check," he replied, putting her hand on his crotch.

Pulling her hand back quickly, she winced: "All right, you don't have to prove it. I'm glad your dick is soft, and you aren't thinking of us lezzing out with her, but you don't have to make me touch it in front of God and everybody."

"Sorry, honey. I was thinking. . ."

"What?"

"What if we went through your archives before dinner? Sometimes the best thing is to find an old idea nobody's done for a while."

Kaylee tossed her head and looked at her boyfriend. "A surprisingly lucid thought. All right, I believe you were practicing the piano and you haven't started drinking yet today. Let's go over to the archives and see what we can find."

The Zeta Rho housemother smiled and waved as they went through the parlor on their way in. There were only four girls staying the summer, and the housemother gave them a lot of leeway as long as they didn't get into trouble while the house was mostly empty. The archives were in the basement, and after unlocking the door, the students were surprised to see an elaborate security system to keep materials from leaving the room. "Wow, you guys are sure paranoid," Fingers commented. "What's with all the bells and whistles?"

"Dunno," Kaylee replied. "It's been here a while. What are we looking for?"

"Anything unusual. Go through the old scrapbooks and yearbooks. I'll take the 1970 University book and work my way through them to the present; you take the scrapbooks."

"Done." They took stacks of the periodicals to facing desks in the middle of the room, and started working.

It didn't take long before Fingers saw a reference to the Brown Berry Ball. The pictures were of a very ordinary formal dance that appeared to be some kind of marathon. The captions indicated a huge amount of money raised for the International Rescue Committee. "What's the International Rescue Committee?" Kaylee asked from the depths of a mid '70s scrapbook.

"I don't know. I guess it's a group to relocate refugees. Do you have Internet down here?"

She got out her iPhone and entered something. "No, nothing. No access down here. That's odd. You try."

Fingers got out his Android and had no success getting online either. "No good. That's weird, we got bars down in our basement archives. Why can't we get it here? It's like there's something here that's top secret, that your Zeta's don't want to leave this room. Who knows about this?"

"Everybody, but I have a key since I'm the historian next year. Only the President, Vice President and Housemother have keys here."

"Let's see if we can find something more about this Ball. It seems like a great money maker but I've never heard of it."

"Me, neither." Finding nothing on the open shelves, they started going through file cabinets. At the back of the room, in an alcove away from the door, was an unmarked cabinet that held several huge books labelled Brown Berry Ball. Getting the one from 1975, they opened it and got the surprise of their lives.

"My God, what are they wearing?" he said. "It's like a gown, but, but, but. . ."

"Their breasts are bare. A long, formal gown in every way, but there's no front."

"Oh My Fucking Sweet Jesus. This was heaven, pure heaven."

She turned a couple of pages. "Damn, no wonder this is secret. The date is July, 1976, why the hell is this going on in the summertime?"

He shrugged his shoulders and thought for a moment. "So nobody else on campus would find out?"

She punched his arm. "That didn't take much thought, Einstein. Wow, look at the celebrities who came. No names listed, but I know who this is. . ."

"Wait a minute. Wait a minute. I think, I think. . ."

". . .therefore you are, Descartes?"

"Shut up. I don't think this actress ever did a nude scene or posed for Playboy or anything. I'll have to check this out on the Internet, but these are the only pics of her bare boobs I've ever seen. And this one, Holy Cow, she was a legend in '76, Oscar winner long ago and she isn't. . ."

"It's not universal, see, look at this one. This one did a lot of nudity, I saw her movies. Wow, whoever set this up was very well connected. Damn, this chick was in politics, and she's smiling like a baboon over her bare tits. It's like she was free to be herself once in a lifetime. And there's my mother, don't look Stanley."

"Too late. She looks just like you, anyway. You could be twins." He touched her bare shoulder blade and started gently tracing the line of her collarbone.

Kaylee smiled, and turned to another book. "It's the same every year, the women are all wearing the same kind of gown, some of them have some support; slings, I guess, for floppy breasts, and it looks like they used body makeup. The nipples are all brown, I guess that's where the name came from, all those brown berries. Momma must have used body makeup, hers are pink and here they're not. There's a file at the back, let me read the pages." She stuck her tongue between her teeth as she read and whistled as she sucked it back in. "These releases guarantee these pictures will never be seen outside this room for fifty years and everybody present will never reveal the event happened at all." She whistled, and turned more pages. "They must have had fantastic security outside, the paparazzi would have loved to be in this neighborhood. And there's a note about sponsoring a ball of the same name during the school year to funnel the money to the charity openly."

Fingers whistled. "Wow! I can't believe it. They did some pretty wild things thirty years ago."

They kept looking at more books, Fingers standing close behind Kaylee, his fingers stroking her shoulders and questing lower down her sides as they looked at page after page of topless women. "The guys aren't wearing tops, either," Fingers said, "Just collars with formal bow ties and cuffs for cufflinks. Damn, it looks like they've shaved their chests! Don't want to think how that happened."

"There's Mother again, and I can't believe who she's standing next to. My God, what tits that woman had! Stanley, is there a reason you're feeling my boobs?"

"I love you, and it's just too much to look." He snuggled close to her body and rubbed his tented crotch into the back of her shorts. "Can't help myself, you feel so good, I want to worship you. Having you here is like being there."

"Well, it's working, just so you know. I'd love to put this Ball together again, who knows who we could get to come. This is the answer." She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "You know what pinching my nipples does to me doesn't it?"

He had her halter top unhinged, and leaned down to nuzzle the nape of her neck. "Yes. Wouldn't it be great to do it here? All dank and musty, a forbidden place. . ."

She sighed and leaned back against him, matching his movements. "All right, all right, it would be kinky to do it here, I'm game. Get it out." Her hand went to the buttons of her shorts and her lower body was freed of its clothing; a quick movement and his trouser snake was ready for action. "Fuck me hard and fast over my mother's picture."

With a grunt, he plunged in to the hilt and fucked her hard from behind. The sounds of their lovemaking echoed in the chamber and her hands writhed in midair in response to the sensations of her cunt. His iron fingers stroked and pulled her buds as sweat started to form on their bodies in spite of the dank air of the basement. He rode her like a cowboy rides a bronco, bucking hard. After several moments, she screamed and orgasmed strongly, shuddering and moaning. He pulled out and started stroking himself frantically; she turned and caught his milky tribute all over her breasts and stomach. They panted for a few moments, smiling, and she rubbed the goo into her skin. Giving his cock a quick lick of gratitude, she looked at her watch and frowned. "We're running late for dinner. Momma said to meet her at 7:00, and now I need to run through the shower and get changed."

He smiled and they left the room to find a small bathroom, where they took care of the remnants of their sexual congress. "Where are we going?" he asked.

"Mexican place, called. . . called. . .called, the Nombre Perdito."

"The Lost Name. How fitting."

"Shut up. Let me walk you out so we can get going. Damn, Momma's got some explaining to do."

They managed to be ready on time, looking casual but neat, got to the restaurant ahead of Mary Jane, and were conducted to a small private room instead of a table in the main dining room. Kaylee gave Fingers a quizzical look, but they ordered a Gin and Tonics as their waited. Her mother showed up, looking stunning in a sundress and sandals, just after their drinks arrived, and after placing their orders, the younger woman turned to her mother: "I was in the archives today."

"Yes, dear? I always found that a fascinating place when I lived in the Zeta house."

Kaylee gave her a sharp look. "I found the scrapbooks for the Brown Berry Ball."

The older woman sipped her newly arrived Scotch casually and glanced at the young man. "Oh? Was he there with you?"

"Yes."

"Hmm, that's a breach of the rules, kids. You could be in big trouble." She frowned for several moments before smiling and laughing at their bewilderment. "Well done, now I can talk about it with you. Yes, we did the Brown Berry Ball, and it was a wonderful event. It took a lot of work, but it was worth it. I think we saved thousands of refugees from Eastern Europe over the years."

Fingers cut in: "How did you get those women to show up and show. . .?"

". . .their breasts? Ironclad security. We did it during the off season, let no one know we were doing it, hired a small army to patrol the grounds of the Parkhurst club, or rather Ziggy Schmidt did, and wore different formals coming and going than we did when we got here."