Totally Magnificent Millie
The players:
Max, 19 year-old cocksman
Emmett: Max's father
Millie: Max's hot-assed mother
Chapter 1: Max
Does your wife spend your good 'hard earned' money on beauty treatments? A face lift, or a boob job? For what? Don't you love her for who she is? That is, unless she's fooling around on the side.
Going to the gym is nice, but do you realize she's getting hornier? As her body is getting toned, she's getting hornier. Women need a way to release all that estrogen build-up, and in a small town like Littleton, any guy who made house calls -- like the plumber, electrician or even the UPS delivery people, were considered fair game. Consider them as providers. The wives, being a shade short of jumping off a bridge, are always trying to outdo each other, fighting over who would get serviced first.
We meet Max. He's 19, and since Max had no intentions of going on to college, he figured he'd take shop in high school. Shop afforded him the opportunity to learn either auto repair, plumbing repair, or general home repair. Obviously car repair meant greasy overalls, and plumbing meant he could end up cleaning sewers. The choice was obvious -- home repairs! He figured -- since his brains were between his legs -- he would meet some hot housewives, and they'd be willing to pay a little more if they knew that he was certain to satisfy.
Of course, most of these house wives were over 40, and in desperate need. He knew how they spent their time. A few took tennis lessons, or went shopping at the mall. Maybe one or two had memberships at fitness clubs, and two took private dance lessons. But essentially they were just killing time, and everything revolved around getting laid. And since Max wasn't a bad looking guy, he figured he'd score with most of those women.
He had to be careful because these broads were married to guys who made big money. And the husbands weren't stupid. They expected their wives to fool around, maybe a little, because they weren't getting much action at home.
With Max, they were playing out a script, and they didn't talk about politics, or how much money the woman's husband had in his 401K. That the guy was over 50 didn't matter to Max because Max had his wang going for him, and he could screw the woman 3 or 4 times during one service call. The poor husband, exhausted after being hammered by his boss, was in no condition to service his nagging wife. Max was in a league by himself, being young, in good shape and had very little competition.
The difference between Max and a monkey was, the monkey didn't plan for tomorrow. Max knew he had to improve himself, and a monkey didn't give a shit about stuff like that. Max knew he wouldn't have women calling him all the time, for the rest of his life. But he knew, without a doubt, his mother would always be there for him.
He'd chosen his avocation on the number of calories he'd burn every day. Well, he didn't really count calories since he was only a teenager, only 19, but he estimated what he'd need to fuck for 2 hours straight. Someone told him about oysters and he thought an oyster looked like a pussy. He figured protein shakes would work and thus he spent most of his free time at the gym.
Like most young guys at the gym, he figured he'd dive right in and attempt 200 pound squats without a warmup. Nor surprisingly, he sprained his lower back. He'd heard of a lifting belt, but he figured it was for wimps. His back hurt like hell and when he went home he walked bent over like an old man. His mother noticed his wobbly shuffling, and when she asked him what happened he said it wasn't a big deal. But it got worse and he could hardly walk.
His mother, early on, taught him to come to her, whenever he needed anything -- anything at all -- like some cash, or something from Walmart. Stuff like that. She knew he beat his meat, and she felt if she were a guy, she'd be doing the same thing. Her name was Millicent but they called her Millie.
Millie was married to Emmett, a Baptist preacher. You couldn't call Emmett a fundamentalist, because those people were nuts. Emmett considered himself fashionable, because he didn't want to upset his people with threats of hellfire and brimstone. He preached for today because he felt if Jesus were here in the body, He'd be giving advice on the market, and how to invest in your 401K. Emmett's congregation was made up of born-again Christians and they needed to go back and be born over and over again. There was just too much porn on the Internet.
Chapter 2: Emmett
It was a long day for Emmett. He'd been working on a sermon for Sunday worship. As usual it was about the wages of sin -- the path to salvation being narrow -- and he included a sprinkling of hellfire. At home, he looked forward to some quality time with his wife, Millie. People knew she was not your typical minister's wife. She didn't play the piano and she hated the church suppers. Moreover, she thought all the women in the choir were gossips.
They had met in college where Emmett was a marketing major. It was an easy transition to selling salvation.
"Honey," Emmett smiled, "I'm real sleepy. Can we go to bed?"
"You don't look sleepy," she smiled, "don't you want to watch the late show on TV?"
"I want to look in the mirror and watch our own late show," he grinned knowingly.
"Alright," she said, reluctantly. She didn't look forward to sex with her husband. It was usually so predictable.
"Honey," he said,' "I've got some great ideas ..."
When they got into the bedroom, the first thing Emmett did was push the mirrored closet doors shut, so from the bed, he could watch the action with his wife. He hastily stripped, stood there stark naked, and watched his wife undress. His limp dick was slowly coming to life.
When she was totally naked too, he slapped her fanny playfully, causing her to glare at him. "You know there's something about you that really turns me on ..."
"What would that be?" she asked demurely.
"Your ass," he told her, again tapping her playfully. "I bought a sex book and saw a man shoving it up a woman's behind, and ever since then I've wanted to try it!"
"You never showed it to me," Millie said tightly.
"I thought you'd have a fit. We haven't really talked about it. How did I know you might want to try something different?"
"Show me the book," she insisted.
"It's in my desk in the study."
"Go get it," she still insisted. Slipping on his pajama bottoms, he walked down the hall, and across the living room into his pastoral study. He found it where he'd hidden it, under a pile of Bibles.
Back in the bedroom, he flipped through the pages, apparently knowing what he was looking for. He was licking his lips as he looked at the pictures.
Emmett showed the book to his wife. As she looked at some of the illustrations, she couldn't imagine herself performing all those acts with a man.
