All Saints

All Characters In This Story Are 18+ Years Old

*****

Sunday November 1, 1992, Los Angeles and Palm Springs, CA

Carter came into the house after loading his suitcase in the trunk of the Taurus. Looking at his watch, he noted it was 9:15 a.m. He picked up the wall phone by the garage door and called Ruth Cohen at home. It took several rings but she finally answered, groggily, "H'llo?"

"Good Morning, Ruth," Carter spoke cheerfully into the mouthpiece, "I hope you slept well."

Ruth recognized her master's voice and was immediately attentive. "Yes, Bill," she replied, "I'm still a little bit tired, but I slept OK... what time is it, anyway?"

"Oh, just past 9," Carter answered. "But I'm not surprised you are tired." Carter chuckled, remembering the many times and ways he and Chad had fucked Peri, Ruth, Trish and Jenny during the course of last night's Hallowe'en party. The nude Twister game had led to particularly interesting combinations and when London Bridge fell down it was an indiscriminate orgy. "Did Chad and Jenny follow you home?"

"Well, yes, because it was on the way, but they didn't come in." Ruth informed him. "I was pretty woozy and went to bed about 3..."

"Uh huh, OK," Carter cut her off, "You have all day to recuperate, Baby. I just wanted to remind you that I'll be in the desert through Wednesday for that College Counselors Association conference. I'll see you in the office on Thursday. Now, hang up and rest up. PRESTO!" With his final word Carter released Ruth from her programmed post-hypnotic state back to her old unimpaired, uninfluenced self.

Sitting up in her bed, Ruth looked blankly at the phone in her hand. "Who the hell calls before 10 a.m. on Sunday?" she wondered, angrily, looking at her clock radio face. She slammed the receiver back on its cradle and grumped her way to her bathroom. Looking at herself in the mirror, she said, "Ruth Cohen, you are hung-over, bedraggled, and stinky...what the hell did you do last night?" Sighing, she shook her head, turned on the shower taps, pulled off her nightgown and stepped under the hot needle spray.

As the stinging water beat its concentrated pattern at the top of her spine, she gently soaped her 37D tits and lazily rubbed across her abdomen. "Thank God for yoga and Dr. Carter," she said aloud, "Considering where you were three years ago, you are in pretty good shape. Boobs don't hang, gut doesn't bulge, much... and" as she inserted her left middle and ring fingers into her cunt, "your pussy is pretty goddamned tight...uummm, mmm," she moaned as her fingers found her sweet spot and worked their magic. Ruth turned into the spray, directing the water onto her navel as she tweaked her right nipple and areola. Her left hand continued plunging and pulling in her twat, which was still tender from her unremembered sexcapades the previous night. "Uuuhhnnn!" Ruth emitted a long sighing moan and raised her chin as her orgasm flowed through her being, relieving her tension.

Ruth stayed under the relaxing stream until the water ran tepid. Turning off the shower, she dried herself, and went back to bed where she unplugged the phone, rolled over, hugged a pillow to her stomach and slept.

*

Carter cradled the receiver with a nodding, wry, smile. "Sweet dreams, Baby," he said to himself, "I'll give you a little pre-yoga workout Thursday afternoon." Consulting his watch once more, Carter moved down the hall to the master bedroom saying, "Better check on the girls, too, I suppose."

As he entered the room he surveyed the rumpled bedding partially gathered around the nude forms of Trish and Peri. Although the group sex, and much of the one-on-one fucking, at the party had occurred in the main house area and even in the swimming pool, his final double-double had been right here, not quite seven hours ago. The poor sweet things: Willing, but more than tipsy on wine, they had been barely able to maintain their side-by-side, all-fours, positions as he reprised and amplified his penetrating performance from that Sunday morning on Avalon during their get-away weekend. They had loved his 'wheelbarrow' technique then, and last night, as they knelt together with their cunts and gaping assholes wet from prior fucks, he sequentially reamed all ports.

He remembered imagining he was driving in his old Chevelle SS 396 with its Hurst 4-speed. Peri was first and second gear. Trish was third and fourth. He slammed his shifter into their asses and twats smoothly, deeply, regularly. They grunted and groaned as he thrust. As he listened to their motors, he power-shifted like a banshee and succeeded in dividing his hot load equally to all chambers while the writhing teens screeched and came together.

Now, Carter stared at Peri, sprawled on one side of the king-size bed. The sheet draped across her tummy. Her light-brown hair spread in tangled wisps over her creamy breasts with their perfect cinnamon halos. On the other side, Trish was curled, facing away. Her bit of sheet covered only her feet and calves. Her starkly white skin glistened with a flushed pink undertone. Carter stepped to her side and looked at her placid face which mirrored the contented countenance of her bedmate.

Grinning with pride and happiness, Carter hummed and then softly sang new lyrics to what had become his personal marching song.

Poke, Poke here

Poke, Poke there

Repeating without a pause

That's how we keep them young and fair

In the Very Merry Land of Oz.

He leaned over and touched Trish's shoulder, rousing her from her deep hypnotic state with her key word, "SIGMA." As she opened her eyes and yawned, he walked to the other side of the bed, bent and planted a warm, wet kiss on Peri's pliant cupid's bow lips. "Good Morning, Sweetheart," he breathed, then stepped back as the teens, each in their own way, sat up and came around to the wakened world.

"Sorry to disturb your sweet slumber, girls," Carter apologized, "You can get up or go back to bed as you like. But I am just about ready to leave for my conference in Palm Springs and I didn't want to go without saying 'Goodbye' and 'I love you.'" He was rewarded by the teens instantly jumping from the bed and rushing to hug and hold him. As he enveloped their soft round bodies in his arms they bubbled over him.

"Oh, Uncle Bill!"

"I love you, too, Dr. C.!"

"When are you back again?"

"Do you have time for a backrub?"

"I think I have a pimple. Can I get some cream?"

"Whoa! Whoa!" Carter protested, "Too much!" He laughed and kissed them each, quickly, but meaningfully, pushing his tongue into their open mouths, tasting the sex residue still trapped between their lips and gums.

"I'll be back Wednesday, maybe by suppertime, depending on the traffic, and no, I do not have time for a backrub, a blowjob, a quickie or anything else." He did take time to push his hands between their legs and grab their pussies with delicate pinches and push his thumbs against their alert clits.

"Oooo!"

"Unnnh"

"O... kay, hhhnn!"

"Wwwen..sday's a long time!"

"You have school, and can take care of each other for a couple of days," Carter said, keeping his active hands on their tender slots. "We already talked about this. It's not a surprise and you are certainly able to get along without me for a while, can't you?" As he asked the question he pushed his slicked fingers deep into their warm, wet pussies and wiggled.

"UUNNCLE!" Peri squealed, clamping her thighs tightly on his hand and sucking his fingers with her cunt.

"Ooohhh!" cried, Trish, nearly simultaneously, as she crunched her hips forward, driving Carter's long fingers deeper still into her sticky channel.

When Peri regained her breath after her quick orgasm she said, "'Can' doesn't mean the same thing as 'want to', Uncle."

"Yeah, Dr. C." added Trish, stretching her neck to kiss his cheek, "We love you forever and that's three days without fucking or any cream at all!" she pouted.

Carter pulled his hands out and licked his fingers. "Self-discipline is a necessary component of maturity, my dears." he said pompously, then he swatted them on their naked bottoms and added, "I'm in the same boat as you, you know, but I have to put up with boring seminar sessions, to boot! Be good. I promise I'll make it up to you Wednesday night."

Disengaging, Carter gave them each a final, lingering kiss and walked to the garage, reviewing the food, glasses, tissue and napkin bits scattered through the house as he passed. Carter reminded his harem, "Do tidy the place up, please, while I'm gone." The co-eds, padding barefoot behind him, assured him all would be spick and span again soon and called out "Drive safe" and "Hurry back" as he got in the Taurus and opened the automatic garage door.

*

Carter wheeled into Palm Springs, dog tired, at 12:40 p.m. He had expected the traffic to be light and easy, since the Raiders had a bye week and the Rams were playing in Atlanta, but it had taken nearly 40 minutes just to get from his house onto the Interstate at Alhambra.

For the rest of the typically two-hour drive, it was all white-knuckles as every idiot south of San Francisco and west of Malibu seemed hell-bent on heading east. The stressful drive, on top of his short night's sleep, left him beat and edgy. He was extremely grateful when the hotel clerk checked him in early and said his room was ready.

After unpacking, he poured a tiny bottle of Canadian Club from the mini-fridge into a plastic glass, dropped in an ice-cube, and sat in the armchair near the window, feeling every one of his 66 years weighing upon him. The AC was a great relief. Just walking across the parking lot with one bag in the 82 degree temperature had taken a lot out of him. He finished his drink, kicked off his Sperry topsiders and lay down for a short nap.

When Carter woke, his stomach growled and the desert evening had already settled in. His Bulova showed 7:05 p.m. He was no longer tired but he was very hungry. Carter walked out to his car thinking of heading downtown, hoping La Familia was open for dinner and wondering, if it was, would Luz be working. "Maybe she's put on a little weight," he chuckled to himself, remembering how he had met, mesmerized and matriculated her from virgin to possibly motherhood.

The evening was splendid. Enough desert heat remained to keep the temperature comfortably warm while occasional zephyrs passed with refreshing cool kisses. He sat in the Taurus, windows down, and recalled his Mexican Conquest.

*

It began last Labor Day Weekend, when he took Ruth and Peri to La Familia Authentic Mexican Restaurant for lunch. Their basket of warm, homemade taco chips and the salsa were nearly gone when the waitress brought their pitcher of Margaritas and three salted sombrero glasses.

As she poured the first round Carter enjoyed the girl's dark beauty. He was especially drawn to the shiny olive tones of her bosom and cleavage above her peasant blouse's low-cut neckline. When she turned and left the table Carter imagined what her ass looked like under the swaying pleats of her black skirt.

After lunch, while Ruth and Peri shopped at a nearby boutique, Carter returned to 'La Familia' looking for the waitress. She was standing at the cash register as he entered. She had remembered him, flashed a broad, toothy smile across her olive, oval face and greeted him in Spanish. "Buenas tardes, senor, bueno verte otra vez."

"Hi," Carter said, laughing, "You caught me out. My Spanish is limited to just a few words."

"Well, senor," she replied, "You said 'gracias' perfectly. You must learn more!" she urged, still smiling. "How may I help you ahora?"

"Ha!" he snorted at the suggestion, then, staring obviously at her left breast, under her thin, white, scooped-neck cotton blouse, he read her name tag aloud, "Luz, is it? That's a pretty name for a pretty young girl." Pleased by her blush, quickly passing beneath her rouge, Carter continued, "Luz, to tell you the truth, my daughter and sister had a little too much of the margaritas. I was in a hurry to get them back to our hotel and did not pay much attention to the check...Did I leave enough? I mean did you get a big enough tip?" Carter stressed the last sentence earnestly.

"Ah, senor," she answered, "I have been a waitress for my father for 10 years, ever since I was twelve, and believe me, I have never seen a tip that was big enough!" She laughed a lilting laugh and winked at Carter.

"I understand, Luz," Carter responded, "but I imagine you do not suffer much. You are beautiful, have a nice smile, and give good service." Reaching into his wallet, he pulled out a $5 bill and handed it to her, "Still, here's a little something extra for you."

"Oh, senor!" she protested, even as she tucked the bill into a pocket in her skirt pleats, "Please, do not think I was unhappy or begging for more money!"

"Not at all, Luz, not at all," Carter reassured her.

"Thank you again," she blushed once more, "This will go for my confidence lessons!"

Carter smiled, in his reverie, and marveled at how naive and sweet Luz was to think a magazine ad for a 'Self Confidence Course' for $500 was not a rip-off. He had genuinely wanted to save her from losing her hard earned tip money, and so, explained how these sharpers preyed on unsuspecting, hopeful, people such as herself. He remembered his surprise when he heard himself quietly offering to help her develop her confidence.

He visualized Luz bending her head forward, leaning over the counter to hear more, and showing, beneath her blouse, her breast tops dipping into the D-cups of her lace-edged bra. His cock began to thicken, just as it had in that restaurant eight weeks ago yesterday. Carter's hand touched the lump growing in his chinos. He licked his lips as he thought about her impressive tits.

More surprising to him still had been the alacrity with which Luz had accepted his offer to coach her. "OH! Senor! You would do this?" she asked with a sudden intake of breath that filled her chest. "That would be wonderful!" Her eyes welled up with the emotion of the moment. "I have $215, will that be enough?" she begged him.

Carter had steadfastly refused her money, but assured her he could work with her immediately, if only she had a quiet, private, place where they could be undisturbed for a half-an-hour or so.

Luz was excited by the prospect. "We could go to my apartment." She whispered across the counter. "It is only few blocks from here and no one else will be there, except my 'gatito', my little pussy!"

Moments later, Luz opened her apartment door, shooed a small gray cat back from the portal and ushered Carter into her small, tidy studio.

"Come in, senor..." she started but he interrupted,

"...Bill, just call me Bill. After all we are 'amigos,' right?" he asked.

"Oh, yes, Se...Bill!" she said, smiling. "So what do we do now?"

Carter glanced around. "Have a seat on the couch, Luz," he directed her, "while I draw the blinds." She sat down and watched as he moved around, closing the curtains, darkening the room. Carter used his body to block her view, then silently twisted the lock on the door.

He came over to the couch, bringing a straight chair with him from the nearby built-in desk. "Luz, I need you to trust me totally, if this is going to work. Can you do that? I know we only just met and that is asking a lot." Carter smiled warmly and looked directly into her dark brown eyes.

"Oh yes, Bill," Luz answered, "I am a very good judge and you are obviously a man of honor. I shall trust you completely. Do you really think this will help me gain confidence?"

"No doubt about it, Luz," Carter told her, nodding his head. "Now, I want you to relax and take some deep breaths for me. Breathe in as deep as you can... through your nose, only. Then release the air slowly, completely... also through your nose." He watched as her lungs filled and her bust swelled. "Perfecto!" he said, "Now do that again and again, deeper each time if you can, holding the breath just for a moment before you let it out. I'll tell you when to stop. OK, breathe, please!" He commanded firmly but pleasantly.

In, pause, out. In, pause, out. Luz followed his instruction to the letter and Carter noticed her body was appearing more relaxed as she continued.

In the Taurus, Carter remembered how hard he had gotten just watching her repetitions of the exercise.

At the right moment he congratulated her and instructed her to turn about and lay on her back on the couch. As she got into position he picked up a small pillow and tucked it under her head. Then he had begun his well practiced preamble.

"Now, Luz, I am going to tell you a story," he indicated quietly, "and I want you to listen to every detail closely. Just try to put yourself into the story, think of it as your story and you are in it and everything is happening all around you." Carter's tone became more monotonous and soothing as he spoke. "Do not move, or speak, just listen to my voice telling the story." He watched for signs as he droned on.

Luz was an excellent subject. In a short time she was ready for her programming. Carter reached out his right hand and laid it lightly upon her right forearm, just below the elbow. "Luz," he said, in a low, yet clear, voice, "Do you feel my hand on your arm?"

"Yes," she said thickly from a cloud of dreams.

"Good. I am touching your skin, like a wind, do you like that?"

"Yes."

"That's good. Now, it feels cooler,...it is cold," he watched gooseflesh appear on her arm as he spoke, "I want you to put the cold out of your mind. You do not feel the wind. You do not feel anything on your arm. It is numb and you feel nothing. Do you understand?"

"Yes," she answered, slowly as her trance deepened.

"Very good, Luz," Carter praised her. "Ignore all of your senses. You feel nothing. You smell and taste nothing, your eyes are glued shut and you see nothing. You hear no sound except for my voice. You have no thoughts except those my voice gives you. You are floating, alone, free, confident on a cloud, waiting for my voice to give you your thoughts and tell you what to do and say. Do you understand me?" he asked again.

"Yes."

"Good, Luz," Carter complimented her, "Now I need to prepare you for your lessons. Are you ready for that?"

"Yes."

"Good. You have a special box. It holds your secrets. I want to open the box, find your secrets, but it is locked. I need a key to your box before I can help you. Will you give me the key to your box? Tell me you want me to have the key to your box." he commanded her.

"Yes. I want you to have the key to my box." Luz repeated to him.

"Good, Luz, 'Gracias' for that," Carter answered. "The key is the word: ROSARY. You have heard the word, and used it yourself, many times, but, it is the key to your box only when you hear me say it. If anyone else, even you, says the word, tries to use the key, it will not work. Do you understand? Say the key and tell me you understand."

"ROSARY", Luz had uttered, her face impassive, her voice expressionless, her body inert, "the key is ROSARY and only you can use it to unlock my box."

"Perfecto, Luz," Carter rubbed her forearm soothingly, "The key will also lock your box up after I have opened it. If your box is unlocked and open, you will hear and react to everything in the world in a natural way, except, you will always listen for my voice, eager to do what I ask or think what I tell you. No one but you and me will know your thoughts or that you are following my instructions." He stroked her arm higher, up to the puffed sleeve of her blouse, then back to her elbow.

"When I close your box and lock it again with the key," Carter continued, "No one, not even you, will know you have a box, or that I have the key, or that it is locked up and put away on my shelf until the next time I want to look into it." Back up her arm went his hand, fingers softly pressing and releasing her young bicep as he moved. "Tell me all you know about your box and key, Luz," he ordered.