Chapter Eight:
Stick That Butt in My Butt
"Mummy, I've brought Mikey home with me!" called Harriet, as she exhaled her final lungful of smoke, flicked her cigarette butt into an empty flowerbed in the front garden, and strode in through her front door.
"Oh how lovely, cuntling!" replied Genevieve Danes. She was in the living room, stepping purposefully up and down on her husband's prone body, naked bar her stilettos, which were leaving sharp red welts on her husband's flesh as she walked. Henry moaned in ecstatic pleasure each time his wife's heel elicited another raw bruise from his body -- but Genevieve paused, stepping back onto the carpet to welcome their new guest. "I've heard so much about you, Mikey!" enthused the older woman. "Harriet tells me you've got a huge dick, and a passive smoking fetish: sounds like you were made for one another! Come in, come in!"
Michael, taken aback by Mrs Danes' exuberant hospitality, blushed quietly, but Genevieve was not deterred. "So, are you going to fuck my daughter today?" She reached forward to squeeze his cock through his trousers. "Can I watch? I promise I won't interfere! But I've heard so much about your big cock, and Harriet has told us how she likes giving you blowjobs and letting you come in her mouth while she's smoking, and, well, I've never seen anything like that before except in the film clips Hattie has shown me, so I'd love to see how she does it. My husband doesn't really go in for blowjobs, you see, he prefers jerking off while I humiliate him, so I thought --"
"Mother!" interrupted Harriet firmly but kindly. "Michael's feeling fragile: he's had a hard time from his mum today. Could you just let us fuck in private first, since it's his first time here? Save the voyeurism for another day maybe?"
Genevieve, deflated but solicitous, paused. "Oh course, sweetcunt. Would you mind leaving the living room to your father and me then? I got my chili-and-vinegar poultices all ready for his raw wounds, you see. But you could fuck in the kitchen, or -- well, I don't suppose you'd want to use the patio at this time of the year..."
"We'll just go upstairs to my room first, all right, Mummy? And Michael's going to stay for a few days, if that's OK. His mother's in a bit of a... well, she's a bit stressed, so we thought he could hang out here for a while..."
"If that's all right, Mrs Danes?" added Michael. "I don't want to be any trouble..."
"Oh, no trouble at all, Michael: Harriet got a nice big bed, just perfect for fucking. Just... well, I know you pleasure each other a lot, but don't be tempted into being 'faithful' to each other, or falling 'in love', or anything like that. The neighbours would not be pleased if they thought I was harbouring that sort of behaviour under my roof!"
"Oh, of course not, Mummy -- how could you! Bringing Michael home's not going to cramp my promiscuity, don't worry!"
Up in her bedroom, Harriet lit another cigarette, blowing her first long, thick cone exhale directly at Michael's crotch and smirking knowingly as she discerned the growing bulge in his trousers. "Ooh, you're healed!" she giggled. "All the demons have fled. Jesus lives! Feeling better now?"
"Oh, Harriet, are you sure this is all right, my moving in?" replied Michael. "I mean, your house is so nice -- not like my mum's. And your mother's so friendly! No wonder you've turned out so well... not like me..."
"Michael Didcock, don't give me that bullshit," Harriet insisted, kneeling down and dangling her cigarette between her lips while unzipping her fuckbuddy's fly. "You've turned out just right: look!" she grinned, as Michael's huge cock sprang loose, nearly knocking her cigarette from her lips. "Fuck!" she added, before taking another deep drag and inhaling it over Michael's cock. "I could fuck this thing forever!"
"Oh! Do you really mean that?" replied Michael uncertainly.
"Of course I... oh!" Harriet paused, as she inhaled another lungful of smoke. "You mean 'really' really?" she puffed smokily. "I mean, you mean, do you mean, do I really intend to fuck you forever, like, for 'the rest of my life' sort of forever, like..." She looked up at Michael's face quizzically, two thin streams of residual smoke wafting gently from her nostrils across the topside of his cockhead.
Michael, worried he might have said too much, tried to backtrack. "Well, not necessarily like that, I mean, I was just wondering, you know, I... oh shit, Harriet, I don't know what to think! You can fuck anyone you like. I mean, you do, don't you? So why do you still fuck me? I mean, even every week at church, when you could have your pick of guys? And why have you now asked me to move in with you? I mean, it's not just that my mum's such a bitch, is it? What's in it for you?"
Michael's question caught Harriet in the middle of a cock-swallowing nose exhale -- but in her surprise she choked, expelling a series of uneven puffs from her nose as she replied, "What's in it for me? Fucking Jesus, Mikey, do you have so little self-esteem? Well, no wonder, I guess, after what I've seen today... But are you really still scared I'm gonna dump you?" She grabbed his cock with her fist and held it tight, as if to demonstrate: "I'm not fucking letting you go, Mikey!" before taking another deep drag of her cigarette and resuming her smoky blowjob.
Michael, uncharacteristically, pulled back, so that his cock was waggling comically in front of Harriet's face, stirring her exhaled smoke from side to side. "Wait, Harriet, let me explain." He paused, as if steeling himself for something rather unpleasant. "Didn't you say, that day we first met, that you'd dump me after you'd taken my dick in your ass?" He folded his arms, looking down at her with an expression which seemed to combine anxiety, fear, and 'so there' in equal measure.
Harriet looked confused for a minute, then realised -- and laughed. Michael, concomitantly, looked annoyed: "What, what? What's so funny?" His cock bobbed in annoyance, even as Harriet giggled her lungful of smoke over it.
Words, smoke and laughter poured from Harriet's lips in rapid equal measure: "Oh Mikey, you dickhead, I didn't mean it like that! I just meant, I mean, I was trying to reassure you, OK? -- to tell you not to be so scared, every single time we fuck, that I'm going to leave you! I was trying to tell you not to think so ill of yourself. I was trying to tell you that... oh Jesus, Mikey, you pleasure me, OK? You pleasure me so fucking much -- more than anyone else I've ever met. All the other people I fuck, at school, at church, yeah, that's nice -- but... but..." Harriet faltered, took another drag, exhaled it rapidly, and stubbed her not-quite-finished cigarette out in her tit-shaped ashtray, before standing up and looking Michael straight in the eye. She hesitated briefly, then pulled him towards her, mashing her lips against his, kissing him passionately, grabbing his buttocks and pulling him close, so that his stiff cock ground hard against her crotch. "Dammit, Mikey, I'm not gonna fucking leave you, OK?" she crooned into his face. Michael moaned with pleasure and delight, revelling in her taste, her scent: smoke, both stale and fresh, on her breath and hair, combined with the slight saltiness of his own pre-cum on her lips.
"Mikey," Harriet whispered through her kisses, "I'm going to prove to you how I feel about you. Michael Didcock, today you get to fuck my ass!"
"Wh-- what?" Michael stuttered. "I thought you didn't like anal!"
"Well -- one: Ms. Poussée says I need to work on it, and if I'm going to be a professional fucker I'd better start now. Two: I'm going to prove to you that I'm not going to dump you even if you fuck my ass. And three: after you've come in my asshole I will have something very important to say to you."
"Something important -- w-what?" Michael looked even more worried.
