The Family D'enfer Redux

It was four in the afternoon, and Justin was buried in paperwork at his desk. The bar was very quiet: a couple of regulars had just staggered into the daylight, and Sheila the bartender was slicing lemons and limes for happy hour. She waved at Chelsea D'Enfer as she walked through the bar toward the office. "Justin's at his desk," she said, "and he's been there since one. I'm glad you're here; he needs a break."

"Thanks, Sheila," Chelsea said, "How's tricks?"

Sheila smiled. "Not bad, not bad. My little boy made green belt at karate yesterday."

"Congratulations." Chelsea went down the small hallway that led to the office. Beyond it was the stairway down to the special rooms that Justin was renovating. She smiled as she remembered the glory hole session with Prudence, and knocked brightly at the office door.

A grunted, "Come" greeting her and a large smile once Justin realized who it was. "It's great to see you, Chelsea, welcome." He stood up and walked over to embrace her and give her a big, open-mouthed kiss on the lips. Breaking, he said, "It's been too long, baby. Two weeks. I've missed you."

Chelsea smirked. "You haven't needed to miss me much. You and Justine have been wearing out the bedsprings from what I understand."

"Yeah, right," he said dully, as he broke the embrace and wandered back around the desk. "You look forward to someone coming back, who promises you the world, and the first couple of weeks are wonderful, but then you get into a routine and the deep canyon of boredom sets in."

She pouted. "That's not how Justine tells it."

"It wouldn't be," came the voice from under a forehead focused on the papers on the desk. She came over and sat on his lap, taking the pen out of his hand and forcing him to look up. "What's wrong?"

Justin looked up at her and sighed. "It's just been the two of us, alone, all the time. Before she went to Europe, we had friends, we had other sexual adventures, we had the folks to hide from. It was exciting just to cuddle and tickle each other's crotches in those days. The first three days she was back were lovely; I had to rest for a couple of days she wore me out so much. Since then, she's gotten so demanding, so bossy, and she's eaten up as much of my time as she can. It's was everything I could do to clear tonight so I could visit Auntie Pru for a home cooked meal and some good, dirty fun."

"Sure, baby, I understand. She was like that in Europe, too." Chelsea kissed his forehead gently. "She wanted all my time unless she was busy doing something else. Took more than she gave, too. Don't get me wrong, I love her dearly and I'd do anything for her, but. . ."

"Yeah, but. . ." He rested his head on her chest for a long moment. "Did you have fun those two nights I had to go to Houston on business?"

Chelsea smiled. "It was like Florence all over again. My body tingled from head to toe and the sparkle in her eye was magic. We made love in every room of your house, sweetheart, soaked for hours in the hot tub and gave each other such wonderful, all over massages. Danced the nights away in the hottest lesbian bar in town. I was all hers, then the moment you hit town it was like a switch was thrown, and she was gone."

Justin's cell phone buzzed to life and he answered it. "Hello. Oh, hi Justine. How's it going? No, just getting some paperwork done, then off to Auntie Pru's for supper. But I thought you were going to spend the whole evening soaking in the tub tonight; I got you those special candles and powders. No, I can't believe you managed to get tickets to that concert, that's fantastic. Sure, I'd love to go, but couldn't Chelsea go with you this time? No, of course, sis, I'd rather spend the time with you. No, I haven't heard of that club or that one either. No, I'm sure Auntie Pru would understand. All right, when do you want to meet me? Six o'clock here at the club. All right, I guess. All right, Justine. See you then. Bye." He rolled his eyes as he flipped the phone shut. "She's been doing this every time I've wanted to see Auntie Pru: something else happens that gives her an excuse to yank my choke chain and go with her. I'm getting tired of it, damn tired."

Chelsea looked puzzled: "Justine tells me that she's into some different stuff right now. Exploring her submissive side. Doesn't that work to your benefit anytime?"

"She runs the whole show, even when I tie her up. Whenever I do something to her, like spank her, or tie up her tits, or pour hot wax on her, she's the one who asks for it and she's the one who tells me where it goes. There's even stuff that she does that's self-torture: I've found her self tied or cuffed to the bed, or wearing nipple clamps, or with needles in different parts of her body. Pain is a new adventure for her, but she's still controlling what she gets, and I can't make any suggestions. Having a bossy big sister is bad enough, having a bossy big sister with my nuts in her pocket is too much."

Chelsea gave him a deep kiss on the lips. "Then get your nuts back and put her in her place. You've a big boy, you can do what you want. You don't have to let her run your life." She slipped her blouse down and played with the straps that pulled her massive jugs tightly. "It's just after four and you've got till six. Lock the door and let me persuade you to take charge of your life."

She got off his lap and let him go over to lock the door. Meeting him on the way back, she gave him a big open mouthed kiss and started unbuttoning his shirt. He slid up her top and pulled it over her head, cupping her mounds and gently kneading them with his hands. She unzipped her jeans and slid them down, stepping out of them and her underwear at the same time. Then his slacks were unzipped and pulled down; he broke their embrace to hang them up and his shirt neatly in his little closet. Kneeling before him, she pulled his boxers down, releasing his ten inch monster, which she began to give long, slow strokes with both hands, her eyes shining in admiration at him. "You're in charge, Justin. I'll give you anything you want. All for you, lover, all for you. Let me set you free."

******************

Chelsea opened the door with her key and shouted in, "Hi, Prudy, it's me." The key went back in her purse and she crossed the small living room to the kitchen. Prudence Tailleferre was busy at the stove, boiling a pot of water and tending a simmering small pot of tomato sauce. The smell of garlic bread filled the kitchen, and Prudence had just chopped some red onions, garlic, and tarragon next to a brimming bowl of baby spinach. Extra Virgin Olive Oil and Balsamic Vinegar sat next to the bowl, ready to contribute. The small table was set with plates for three, and a serviceable bottle of red wine was open. Chelsea gave the older woman a full kiss on the lips, and hugged her warmly. "Everything looks and smells wonderful, but you've got enough here to feed an army."

Prudence was a full foot shorter than the younger woman, and her head was snuggled in Chelsea's cleavage as they embraced. "I thought Justin might be coming by, so I had to be ready. If he's not, then I can store this for later in the week."

Chelsea kissed the top of the older woman's head. "Justine has monopolized him again tonight. She managed to get tickets for the concert, even though it's been sold out for six months, and says they need to check out other clubs in town afterward. You know her: she's as single-minded as a buzzsaw when she has her heart set on something."

A tear blinked into Prudence's eye. "It always happens like this. Young people are always more interested in their own priorities rather than family. It's not the first time I've been stood up."

"You're not stood up, Prudy, I'm here. We're going to have a wonderful evening without them, and I couldn't ask for better company than you. Don't you fret your pretty little head, darling. I'm here and I'm going to take care of you."

"You're so sweet, Shelly. Really. What would I do without you?" The older woman rested her head on the younger woman's chest. The younger woman held her and patted her back. Shortly, they broke the embrace and Prudence drained the pasta thoroughly before adding it to the sauce.

"Where did you get the pasta?" Chelsea asked.

"Made it myself. A hobby of mine, and one of the few kitchen tricks I taught Justin how to do. He's gotten rather proud of his homemade pasta, and it's doing great business at his restaurant, but I'll stack mine up against his any day. Try a little." She proffered a triangle that Chelsea bit immediately.

"Oh my goodness, this is fantastic. You must teach me how to do make that."

Prudence smiled wanly. "Of course, my dear. You're so kind." A moment's tossing of the pan and a quick mix of the salad found dinner on the table. Both women relished it with the fruity red wine and had seconds of everything. After the meal, they quickly washed up, stowed the leftovers and retired to the living room with glasses of port.

"This is wonderful, Prudy. One of the best meals I've ever had. How do you find time to do it?"

"Well, I hate what's on television and seldom go to movies, so I do little things around the house. I sew, I knit, I cook, and I make some clothes. My mother taught me all the domestic arts in hopes I'd make a good wife and mother someday, and they've been a great consolation as I stand on the edge of Senior Citizenhood."

Chelsea rolled her eyes. "Nonsense, you're a kind and caring woman, and that kind of people are always relevant. I lost my mother when I was two years old, and I would like to think that she would have been a lot like you."

Prudence smiled. "Well, that's nice of you to say, but I really would like to be more than your mother."

Chelsea leaned over and kissed Prudence full on the lips for several moments, parting with short kisses. "That can be arranged. Tell me more about yourself: I've heard Justin and Justine's story at length, but I never heard yours."

"Not much to tell, really." Prudence took another sip of port. "At least, not much that was good. Growing up was a horror. My father was in International Law, and he spent twenty five years in Washington at the embassy. That's where my brother Armand, me and my sister Clarissa were born. My mother was a genteel woman, delicately schooled in the domestic arts, subservient, never caused a fuss. My father was had a terrible temper and treated his family like dirt. My brother was a god: he could do nothing wrong, and he got away with everything. My little sister was a shrew, and the most like my father in the family. I was most like my mother and I got most of the blame for whatever when wrong. When I was thirteen years old, my father started abusing me twice a week with my mother's permission, beating me as well as invading my body. I was devastated by that, and my sister always took out her anger on me as well, making me feel so inadequate that I accepted my fate quietly. It got worse when I was fifteen and started to find myself attracted to other girls in school; most of them ran from me, but Hilary was the first to love me for who I am. My parents found out, and punished me severely, my father screaming that he would make me fit to be wife and started screwing me three times a week. My sister took the opportunity to tease me subtly in public, and torture me sexually at night in our room alone.

"I got out of there as soon as I could after I graduated from high school. I went as far as I could for college, out to Berkeley in California, where I first felt that I fit into a group. Being bilingual was a big advantage in library work, and I loved the stillness of the stacks, as well as the chance to help people learn something. My sister followed me there two years later: I loved my little sister dearly and my parents asked me to look after her. We roomed together, and she made my life a wreck during the week, while running away weekends for wild parties. Such secrets I had to keep from my parents: Clarissa loved both women and men, making them serve her needs like a mother hen. She married Franklin D'Enfer because he was a promising young man with lots of money, and he was her favorite man in bed at the time.

"She was the first to introduce me to masochism, trained me to see pain as pleasure, then she abandoned me. I tried to find a husband, but my heart was such a wreck that I could never accept kindness from a man, never see a future with one. My brother was killed in a police action in Central Africa in my mid-twenties; my parents' lives unraveled after that. My father started drinking heavily and died in an auto accident six months after Armand's death; my mother developed cancer and submitted to it a year later. The library was my only refuge and the skills my mother taught me when I was little and beloved were my solace.

"Clarissa got me this job at the library all those years ago when she was pregnant with Justine. She wanted me to be close by so she wouldn't need to hire a babysitter, and over the years she would dump the children on me without warning, for any length of time. They were joys when they were little, Justine and Justin: dear, sweet, loving. My body became fat like my mother's and Clarissa's stayed thin like my father's and my grandmother's on that side, so no one became interested in me sexually. I knew everything that Clarissa was doing, she made sure I knew every detail of her sordid life, but I fooled myself that I could protect the children from their parents by giving them a healthy home away from home. When Franklin and Clarissa had to leave the country, I felt I had my chance, but Justine turned out to be just like her mother and she found how to lead me back to my taste for warped pleasure. The sensations drove me out of control, and the attention she gave me was like finding a lost lover. Justin is such a good boy, and he took her place rather innocently trying to make me happy. I'm so ashamed, I feel that I've used him as the husband I never had; I let him do anything to me he wanted and served his every want.

"So Chelsea, I'm not the sweet, innocent person you think I am. Don't go telling yourself that I'm worth a long term relationship. I know who I am and I've accepted who I am. You can stay as long as you like, but I know that someday, you'll want to move on."

Chelsea's eyes were overflowing, and her head came down to sob on Prudence's shoulder. Prudence cried as well, as they huddled on the couch. After a while, Chelsea pulled back. "You shouldn't think of yourself like that, Prudy. You were only doing what you had to. Justine and Justin are so dear you'd do anything for them, even commit incest with them because you want to make them happy. The things you do aren't that all right, but your heart sure is. We've both lost something deep in our lives: my father and I were alone in the world. He's one of the white sheep of the D'Enfer family, and after my mother died, he's never looked at another woman. He brought me up as best he could, made me feel like his princess, and encouraged me to be whatever I wanted to be. It was still a lonely childhood: I couldn't make friends easily, was shy and embarrassed around boys, and girls never accepted my interest either. Then dad died in that accident over here last year while I was in college, and I was alone in the world. I fell in love with art, and when I found out that Justine was coming to Europe, I was eager to discover more family.

"At first, we were just innocents abroad, then we discovered a forbidden flame for each other. One morning I woke up and Justine's head was on my shoulder and she looked so lovely. I kissed her forehead to awaken her and she responded by kissing my lips. Hormones started running wild, and soon we were honeymooners together. I loved her so much, it hurt, we were bound closer than sisters, friends. We had adventures, got taken in a couple of times, particularly by Uncle Fred, the worst of the lot, and it came time for me to come back here. Justin is the first boy I've slept with: he's everything I ever wanted in a man. Just this evening, I sneaked down to the club behind Justine's back and we fucked so hard because I haven't seen him for two weeks and Justine's not really taking good care of him. I've kidded myself that cousins marrying isn't uncommon in history and someday I could land him and we three could live in an orgiastic playground that would last forever.

"Then I met you that first day in the club, the first day I came back to the country. You're so gentle, so wise, so tender, so delicate, so strong. Justin I was looking forward to, but you were such a surprise. The threesomes we've had together have been wonderful, and I adore Justin's magic wand, but I could love you for a lifetime. Does that scare you?" Prudence looked away. "I don't care that you're fat and dumpy, that your breasts are oversized and heavy, that your hips are wide. Your soul is as lovely and elegant as Justine's body, and loving you is twenty times more satisfying."

Prudence shed a fresh tear. "But we're not strong are we?"

Chelsea shook her head. "No, we're not. If Justin came through that door, I'd be on my knees in an instant. If Justine came through that door, I'd be on my knees in an instant as well. There was a time she and I went to Houston that was a touch of Europe and the magic was back, but only for a short time. Making love with him is so wonderful, I fuck him any way he wants to on his command. But he's not strong enough to break away from her, or he doesn't love me enough, or both."

"Same with me. They could use my body for anything, and I would let them because I've loved them from their first moment. They know how to make me feel good, give me that special pleasure through pain, and it's so intoxicating I can't stay away," Another tear leaked from Prudence's eye. "No matter how long it takes them to get around to calling me, I'll come running, ready for anything."

Chelsea kissed Prudence again delicately on the lips. "We do have a lot in common, don't you see it? Justine and Justin. They're addictions we can't get rid of. They make us feel good and they make us feel awful. There's one more thing that I know as well."

Prudence nodded and kissed Chelsea on the lips. "They don't deserve us, do they?" Chelsea shook her head. "I guess I always knew that. We have something very profound in common then, as equals. We have to be equals if this is going to be true love. I guess I can love you honestly, then, can't I?"

Chelsea gripped Prudence fiercely and kissed her hard on the lips. They writhed and ground their mouths into each other's, parting momentarily to pant and breathe before locking lips again. Their embrace became frantic, it was as though they were wrestling rather than hugging, tearing at each other's clothing and they sank to the floor, pushing aside the end table to create enough room for them to lie together on the carpeted space. Their hands pawed each other's breasts roughly, smashing and pinching them, squeezing them, before their hands went together to invade each other's valleys of desire. Their lips remained in their fierce lock as their hands probed each other's genitalia, eventually pulsing together with three fingers inserted in each other's vaginas, their nipples dancing damp circles around one another's in close contact. Chelsea climaxed first, breaking the lock to scream and yell as her orgasm parted her from her reason, her hand compulsively pounding Prudence's cunt. When Chelsea came down from her high, she dove headfirst to lock her lips on Prudence's clitoris and within ninety seconds Prudence was writhing out of control in her own orgasm.

They settled down, lying together on the floor, the aromas of passion drifting up from where they soaked the carpet. Prudence stroked Chelsea's jaw line and cheek; Chelsea traced the curves of Prudence's breast and nipple. Their eyes look deep into one another's and they moved their legs so their clitorises touched.