Chapter 9: Tuesday & Thursday - Beachfront Bargaining
Last night's playtime had extended into the early morning hours, so launching into a fresh sex extravaganza at half-past-dawn took its toll on the humans among us. Afterwards I helped Auntie totter back upstairs with Daddy following close behind, Adele in his arms, to catnap all together again in his big bed. Or at least they dozed, although I had already learned how to sort of declutch my mind and coast along thought-free - which is pretty much the same thing, I guess.
And then we set to a hearty, if informal (that is to say bare-assed), breakfast - again with some exceptions. We had to prop up our Raggedy-Anne-addled Adele with pillows. Max had told me she could dine on cum, if it was pumped down her throat, and so Daddy had already served her a healthy gout of the stuff earlier this morning. But even at that, she still seemed a bit peckish. We tried spoon-feeding her with thin yogurt, but she ended up wearing it all, so Pop was detailed to give her second breakfast later. As for me, my hungers had become mostly sexual but I was still into flavors, so I had some strawberries. Also, Christie poured some maple syrup over her plump titties for me to lick off. Yum!
Well, things got a little messy, what with the yogurt and strawberries and syrup. I sorta even maybe started a food fight, which soon became a little hands on and personal - when Daddy finally called a time out to properly feed Adele, his now sticky 'n sweet man-sausage was all stiff and ready. The sight of his gentle insertion of this instrument down her throat, and of her recovering suction skills, inspired me and Auntie to climb right onto the table to taste one another more thoroughly. After putting several loads into my hungry friend, he circled around the table to deliver his ample leftovers to us.
After our bacchanal - this being Adele's word for it (seriously slurred), although Daddy said those probably involve less coffee and more wine - well, yeah, then we all had to have showers. Actually we shared our rain room - one of those big spaces with lots of nozzles and fog-misters and weather settings. It also has padded seats and benches, and safety grab-bars mounted at all levels so as to hold on tight. You know, like when you want to bend over and brace yourself with your ass high, or you need a place to put a leg up and wide. Or, say, you'd like to swing from the ceiling ... or maybe someone all limpish needs to be lashed up by the wrists, high enough that everyone can reach her pussy but she can't drown. Just saying.
Anyhow, after some excellent carnal romping, I simulated my own flush cycle by clamping my mouth onto one of the lower nozzles. That stopped the proceedings briefly while everyone else stared at the water spraying out of all my other holes. This turned out to be a bit disturbing - for Auntie, because she didn't even know about my cleaning regime, and for all of us on account of the strawberry-red, horror show fountains coming from my every orifice.
After that unfortunate distraction, we got back to business and, yet again, I lost track of the time. I had to yoink Christie's hand out of my snatch - with a torrent of apologies - and hustle off, all slippery wet, to make it to my room in time for my ten AM shutdown / 'nap'.
As I was dropping my backside onto the waiting probe, Christie popped in to tell me that Daddy had to go out to attend to some errands (he still had to work out some details for my funeral), but that she'd stick around to nurse Adele while I was off-line. I just hoped my drunken little master wouldn't be too shagged out to go to the mall when I got her back. But then my lusty aunt said she'd also get in touch with Maria, to see if our two sexy neighbors could join us for some evening entertainment.
Content, I settled my tired ass down onto the welcoming probe projecting from my chair, and relaxed as it slithered up to dock. A little buzz and then ...
* * *
"Whoa!"
"Sorry," said Adele. Her face had appeared just inches from mine, and she looked like shit - her hair was uncombed and her eyes were all red. "Um - what's your name?"
My probes were still retreating back into the chair, and my best attempt at an answer was, "Huh?"
"Please! What's your name?"
"Tracie. Tracie Ward. Around the house, anyway. I'm mostly Lacy in town. Why on earth...?"
"What was the name of your grade two teacher?"
"What?"
"I didn't meet you until we started grade nine together. Just now I had a look at your class photo, and I never saw this woman in my life. So - what was her name?"
"What the hell are you talking about? My grade two teacher was Mr. Thomas."
"Oh, thank Christ!"
"Adele - you're scaring me. I thought we were gonna go to the mall?"
She came over all teary at that, and said, "Don't worry - it's just that ... there's kinda been a ... we got a problem."
"Not helping ..."
"No, really, it'll be okay ... first, stand up."
"Okay. Um ... when did I get so tall?"
"Come on over to the mirror. They put me in charge of 'splaining everything."
Once there, it was the statuesque Adele-bot (AKA Greta) that looked back at me, in all her naked glory, with the reflection of Adele standing all sheepish alongside. For some reason, my pretty little mistress was wearing an old flannel shirt, which still managed to be sexy - largely because it was hanging open and she wasn't wearing anything else. Hornier than ever, I gazed down from my new height at the familiar constellation of freckles across the top of her firm little tits, and down across her soft belly to her red tuft of a bush that glistened with beads of cream and yet still failed to hide the line of white froth topping her drizzling pussy ... my mind thought, 'Got Spunk?' but my mouth said, "What the fuck have you been up to?" Although the answer was rather obvious.
She just shook her head, and looked pretty miserable for someone who had only just had her bells rung. At this point, I finally consulted my inner clock and found there was also a matter of two missing days.
"It was my fault," Adele said, with a sniffle. "Not this," she added, since I was still staring down at her moist man-muncher. "See, we went back to the mall, you and me, Tuesday afternoon, and I kinda got busy looking at clothes. Well, Geez, Max had fucked me most of the night, and then you and Richard and Christie took over for half the morning, and I only got a little nap while you were shut down. Anyways, I looked around and you were ... gone. I thought maybe you'd just gone looking for boys on your own. But I couldn't find you anywhere. Even if you'd popped a fuse or something, I was sure I'd be able to find you, but nadda." She was starting to cry plenty, now. "I wasted a whole hour before I called your dad. He came right away, but ... well, we're pretty sure you were stolen."
"Standing right here ... sort of," I pointed out, hefting a borrowed tit.
