It had been two weeks since I had made the deal with Darcy and Rhonda concerning the Estate of their recently deceased Mother/Sister, respectively. It turned out Mom had been a secret pornographer, the artsy kind of pornography that flourished in the sixties and seventies and now was considered highly collectible. Rhonda wanted to sell it all, Darcy wanted to hide it all. Rhonda was the ne’er do well sister of the deceased, Darcy was the daughter of the deceased who was about to go into politics so she wanted the whole thing quashed.
Me? They call me Harry. Because it’s my name. And I was the guy in charge of their estate sale who found their Mom’s hidden cache of photos, negatives and on old camera with a roll of film in it.
You can read the previous chapters ( Estate Sale Fun, Ch 1 Darcy’s Turn, Ch 2 Rhonda’s Turn) for the details, suffice it to say I made a deal that they would take 18 pictures each, and the best overall photographer would win the prize. And, so, yeah, as part of the deal we fucked. And fucked well.
I got the pictures developed by a friend of mine who has the only dark room left in the city who could develop old Black and white film like this. I got several sets made and some slides. And just to be sure, I had her make copies and records of the photographs of the Estate. There was some beautiful work there, it deserved to be remembered, no matter what these two women felt about it. I sometimes felt a connection the owners of these Estates. When you go through all the things a person owns, a life emerges. A life painted to exquisite detail by the cataloging of every material possession you had when you kicked the bucket. I’ve only done thirty-two of them so far, but I’ve attended hundreds of them. You get to know the dead pretty well in my line of business, and that knowledge also helps with the living. It also makes you never sweat the little shit, and the accumulation of material objects becomes something to avoid.
I called the ladies over to my apartment for a viewing. To my surprise, they arrived together, each carrying a bottle of something brown. Rhonda, a 47 year old biker enthusiast, looked more sluttier than usual in a tight pair of faded jeans and a white t-shirt with a black leather vest, and no bra to restrain her luscious 38 D Cups. Her niece Darcy, however, could have been peeled off the cover of Good Housekeeping, with her neat shoulder length haircut. She was wearing sweat pants and a casual top, hiding her slender body rather well.
We greeted each other warmly and chatted, just like we weren’t just about to decide a porn contest that we were also the subjects of. We sat down and shared a drink or two. They obviously had started to spent time with each other and had resolved their differences. Ain’t nothing a few orgasms can’t accomplish! After a few minutes, Darcy started talking about the photographs.
“You know Harry, Rhonda and I have been talking, and we’ve agreed to donate the pictures to the National Photography Archive. It’s the right thing to do.” Darcy had a solemn tone in her voice, low and serious with the huge sacrifice to herself she was offering.
“Totally.” Rhonda agreed, pouring on the same heartfelt feeling. “Even if we didn’t get along, her stuff is art it should be protected.” The two women shared a congratulatory moment between themselves, savoring their own goodness. I rose and poured myself a bourbon, and tried not to to exult in the little James Bond moment I was about to have.
“That is very interesting Miss Darcy and Miss Rhonda. Your . . . altruism is to be commended. I’m sure the One Hundred Thousand Dollars honorarium offered for the collection was of a . . . minor inducement.” I turned slowly on the last words, and rejoiced to see both their faces flush red. I had been in touch with a number of museums and archives upon the finding of the collection, as was proper procedure with all estate pricing guidelines.
“You knew about that?” Rhonda asked, her mouth hanging open in shock.
“Shit. We should have known he would. It is his business after all.”, said Darcy with a growing smile. “And Harry is very good at his business.”
“Guess so.” Rhonda agreed, though she still looked confused.
“But, it really doesn’t matter what you know, because the film is still ours.” Darcy stood up with a eager disposition. “So, we’ll just take the collection now, please.”
“Oh, it’s not yours to take. Yet.”
“Excuse me?” Darcy said in her best pissy suburban housewife voice. A domestic tone that turned me on, actually.
“We had a deal. I will reward the collection to the best photographer. Then whoever wins them may do what they wish for them. Unless you want to pay the 20,000 dollars to me right now?”
“What the fuck you mean 20,000 dollars?!” Rhonda stood up in anger while Darcy just yelped in protest.
“The collection is part of this estate.” I said in my best Dad voice, which was a damn good one. “My company receives 20%. Remember?” Both the women stopped mid righteous outburst, and then fell to a stale silence.
Darcy then asked me, “But wait, if you reward the collection to us . . .”
“Oh, then there Escort is no fee. It is a reward to you personally and not part of the Estate. A pity, but that was the deal.” The stale silence freshened over the next few seconds.
Then Rhonda started to giggle.
“That’s kinda bitchin’. I can dig it. So, Harry . . ” Her tone got sexy, “. . . is there a ceremony for this reward, some kind of. .. presentation you have in mind?” Despite Rhonda’s sexy levity, Darcy still looked serious. “I want to see some documentation on this.”, she laid it out flatly right me, looking me in the eyes. I handed her a folded paper from my jacket pocket. It was a contract stating what I had just asserted. As Darcy read, Rhonda sashayed over to my and poured herself another drink, while casually rubbing up next to me. Drink in hand she turned to me and looked up into my eyes. “The truth is Harry, I’s like to fuck you again, I had a real good time before.” She pressed closer, and put her hand on my chest. “Whatever that paper says, I’m getting a fuck outta you, that’s why I’m here tonight.” Her green eyes actually smoldered, like you read about it those pulp novels.
“It’s true, she really liked fucking you, wouldn’t stop talking about.” Darcy said under breath while reading the contract.
Rhonda kissed me, and I kissed her back. Damn, she was a great kisser, and she took her time with it, trading soft little pecks on the lips and light licks in between. To have this Biker Chick stereotype lapping away at my face, and grinding her soft curves into me was such a fucking turn on I almost forgot about Darcy, until she finished reading the contract.
“Okay, it’s legal. How do we do it then?” She asked, neither hassled or turned on by Rhonda’s mashing her hot tits all over me and licking my face.
“Right this way, please.” I led them down to my movie room, which is my one luxury in my life. One entire wall of the room is a movie screen for which I have a modern projector system attached to the ceiling. The other three walls are lined with home movie projectors and slide projectors. I have bought hundreds of them over the years. I still lack a few models, but not many. When the girls came into the room, and saw the walls covered floor to ceiling with shelves full of projectors of every type, they stopped in astonishment.
“Holy shit, John.” Darcy said first. “Do you own every single projector in the world?”
“No. Well, maybe just for the United States and Canada. But when I find them, I buy them.”
Rhonda had walked over to a particular carousel slide projector. “Our Daddy had a projector like this.” She laid her hands lovingly on it. “He showed us slides every Sunday when I was a little girl.” She started to smile. “Oh, wow, that smell is coming back to me. That bulb in there, when it got the machine hot from being turned on so long, nothing smelled like it.”
“They literally don’t make that kind of plastic or lamps anymore, so nothing will ever smell like that again. Turn it on.” I told her.
Rhonda looked startled. “It works?” she asked me incredulously.
“It does. I got lucky. All of these at least partially work. That one works well. Turn it on, go ahead.”
She bent over the machine, found the spot with her finger and with a friendly click, the lamp and fans whirred to life, sending an incandescent square of light to the center of the room. I turned to go toward the wall switch to turn off the lights, but Darcy was already there, and turned the room dark except for the slide projector’s beam. She walked back to me, looking relaxed.
“Okay, show us the pictures, Harry.” Darcy put her hand on my crotch, and rubbed my half hard cock through my pants. “All this proves you are weird enough to be trusted. And God knows I could use a good fuck now and then.” Her page boy hair cut and sharp features were intensified in the harsh white light of he projector, providing a perfect contrast to the corn fed lusty beauty of Rhonda. I took her in my arms and kissed her like a movie star, dipping her slightly. When we were both vertical again, she exclaimed, “Wow. are you always this cool?”, in an only slightly sarcastic tone.
“No, I’m actually quite the feeb. This is the coolest I’ve ever been. It’s true! I don’t know what it is. I’ve never done nothing like this.” I gestured to indicate the whole room, and the two hot women, and all of . . . .it! I added a self effacing laugh, which made Darcy melt a little, and she let her walls down a little and leaned up to give me a sweet, long kiss.
Rhonda looked on, smiling. “Ah hell, son. When something works, it works. It finds a way to make itself happen.” Rohnda’s eyes closed while she breathed in the scent on the slide projector’s warmth.
“So, shall we see the pictures?” I asked after a beautiful minute of Darcy’s lips. Both girls agreed eagerly. Rhonda turned off her projector and I turned on mine. we all moved to the couch in the middle of the room and cuddled up, me in the middle.
“Your shots were judged on several merits, one of them being their relationship to the original artist’s work. So first a retrospective of her work, as a basis for Escort Bayan comparison.”
I pressed two buttons on my remote and cool jazz from the early Sixties, contemporary to the pictures we were about to see, started to fill the room and then cheesecake girlie photographs began to flicker onto the screen. The ladies were rapt, spellbound at their Mother/Sister’s work, several times exclaiming aloud at shots they had recognized from some movie reference or another. I made sure to include shots that I thought might turn them on, and it was clear that I had succeeded. Rhonda had her hand on my thigh and she squeezed it hard when a shot of a buxom woman being restrained and forced to eat another woman’ s pussy. On my other side, petite Darcy was curled up next to me, and I had snaked my hand around her waist and under her sweat shirt. I was lightly caressing her tits and gently pinching her nipples. I felt her gasp when a picture of a bound and gagged woman on her knees was being spanked by another woman in black leather burst onto the screen.
I was learning a lot about my two companions!
I was also getting eager to go down on little Darcy’s sweet and proper pussy. I got down on my knees in the shadowy room and pulled her sweats down and off her legs. To my surprise she had on black garters and stockings, and she smiled wickedly at me as I knelt between her legs, smiling like a kid at Christmas. But only for a moment, and then she looked back to the screen. I leaned in and nuzzled her trimmed bush, gave her pussy a quick lick, and then another. I then ran my tongue from the bottom of her pussy all the way to her clit, which got me an appreciative moan for my efforts. I slurped away at her pussy, taking my time with her wet box without even trying to make her cum. I saw Rhonda scoot in close to Darcy and pull off her sweat top. She caressed Darcy’s tits while watching the screen as I kept lapping away at Darcy’s sweet pussy.
I figured I should keep things even before the actual Competition Pictures came up, so I shifted over to Rhonda’s lap and began to undo her pants. She stopped me. “Unh-unh. It’s your turn.”, she said. She led me to sit on the couch and undid my pants. My hard cock sprang out and Rhonda giggled with delight just before turning to Darcy. “Dance, Darcy. Get up and dance while I suck on Harry’s dick.” Rhonda then laid across the couch with her head on my lap but facing the screen so she could still watch. Darcy got up and began to do a Go-Go style dance to the jazz, her body illuminated only by the black and white pornography cast onto the wall, and onto Darcy’s sinewy frame as she twisted and grooved out, like Goldie Hawn on Laugh-in. You could see her smiling beneath the whirling of her head and hair back and forth, she was completely dervished out, moving like an elemental force.
Rhonda wasted no time on my cock. She bobbed up and down hard, taking half of it in her mouth while pumping my shaft. I saw that Rhonda’s other hand was squeezing her own tit, and pinching her nipple through the t-shirt. Darcy danced harder when she saw Rhonda gulping down so much of my dick. Rhonda kept sucking me off, getting my cock wetter and wetter with her spit. I could feel it drip down my balls the more she did it. All the while I was seeing amazingly sexy women projected onto an amazingly sexy woman! The moments stretched out until the screen faded to black. I told the girls to come and sit down, as their photos were about to come on the screen
The shots Darcy took, showing Rhonda and I fucking, came up first. They were excellent. A little formal in their composition, but perfectly shot as befits a person who took classes in photography. Rhonda has slipped her pants off and was fingering her clit as she watched.
“Play that one again.” She said more than once, and I always accommodated. Darcy crawled over to her other side, took off her vest and lifted up her t-shirt. I dived into her tits at the same time Darcy did, and we both began to suck her nipples, one on either side. Rhonda groaned and moaned as we suckled loud on her tits like greedy little piglets as her fingers flew faster and faster on her clit. Darcy held out her hand to me, palm out, and shook it to tell me to do the same. I did. Our hands joined and our fingers intertwined. She then extended her pointing finger, and I did the same—all of this without ever taking our mouths off of Rhonda’s lush tits. Darcy directed our clasped hands with the first finger extended to Rhonda’s pussy and we began to finger fuck her. Our double finger easily sliding in and out of Rhonda’s wet pussy.
“Oh shit, oh my fucking god! That is so Hot!” Screamed Rhonda, watching us, well I guess you could call it Patty-Cake-Fucking her pussy. Or maybe ‘Steeple’ fucking her. You know, here’s the church, here’s the steeple . . . perhaps I digress.
The screen dimmed and faded to black, and then Rhonda’s shots came up next. They were less technically proficcient, but more visually arresting, in a way that suited Darcy’s Louise Brooks’ style. Darcy now was the one who leaned back to see herself, being fucked and sucked on. Rhonda cackled. “I’d knew you love it. You Bayan Escort said you wouldn’t!”
“I didn’t think they would be . . . so good. Oh! Would you . . .?” Darcy gestured to me wildly to go back to the previous image of her writhing on the bed. Of course, I accommodated. I then went to her on the couch, and picked her up. I put myself on the seat where she was and then placed her on my lap, with my cock outside her pussy, but when I reached around I could press my dick flat against her whole cunt and tickle her little clit with the head of my cock. She sat on my lap staring at the film of her own naked body, while I got her pussy even wetter by stroking my cock up and down her entire slit. Her pale slender body gyrated on top of me, reflecting the screen’s light, turning her skin into a canvas of herself.
Rhonda got next to me and sat up on her knees to pull and kiss on Darcy’s tiny nipples. Darcy gasped and whined at the pleasure of being teased, both on her tits and her pussy, but she never stopped looking at the screen, and neither did Darcy. Me? I had seen all the pics already, numerous times. Heh.
Darcy, wide-eyed and gasping finally put her hand on my dick and guided it into her pussy, shouting a grunt of victory as she did.
“Oh, hell yeah Darcy. Fuck that big dick!”, Rhonda encouraged. Darcy sat up and put her hands on her head, and began to thrust her hips back and forth, while keeping the top half of her body completely still. She had some gymnastics experience in college, and she used it to it’s full effect. I pressed another button on my remote, and the jazz changed over into some slick old garage rock I had heard on Little Steven’s Underground Garage. It was melodic and real, raw and slow. Darcy growled with pleasure as she writhed on my cock, turning around to look in my face. Our eyes locked for a few seconds, a few thrusts, a few breaths and then she leaned all the way back, pressing her body into mine.
Rhonda now crawled down to between out legs and began to lap greedily at Darcy’s pussy.
“Oh fuck, Rhonda! Oh shit that feels so goddamned good!”, Darcy squealed. A wicked little laugh muffled by slender thighs came from between our legs as Darcy began to thrash and shake, cumming with a huge shudder. She grew slack and limp against me, and I felt Rhonda pull my dick out of Darcy’s pussy and pull it into her mouth. I poured Darcy onto the seat beside me and stood up, catching the image on my own body for the first time. Rhonda was on her knees in front of me, swallowing my cock and jerking me off with a reckless abandon. I helped her to her feet and led her behind the couch and bent her over it facing the screen. I started fucking her from behind, slamming my cock into her so hard the couch shook with every pounding I gave her. Rhonda loved it! She was even laughing! And not a weird demented laugh, like a Psycho having a delusion, but a genuine laugh of pleasure and enjoyment.
“Oh yes, yes yes, Harry! I sooo need a good decent fuck! Just keep fucking me! Fuck me as hard as you can you weird ass fucker!”
I was holding her fat ass cheeks firmly, my fingers digging into her middle aged fanny. I kept my pace up with the music, giving Rhonda a hard orgasm and fucking her right through it, as if it didn’t happen, which made her almost slack with lust. By then Darcy had gathered herself enough to want to get back into the game.
“Bring her around, Harry. I want her face in my pussy. Come make her lick my Cunt.” Darcy had a far away sound in her voice, like a part of her was speaking that usually was forced to keep silent. I felt Rhonda gasp a little, and thereby knew she wanted to be made to do it. I grabbed her by the hair and pulled her head up, and kissed her in the cheek. I pulled my cock out of her with a sudden plop, that made her whimper and stagger in my arms. I led her around the the front of the couch, where Darcy was sprawled out, her legs spread luridly wide, her fingers spreading open her petite pussy. I made Rhonda get down on the couch and pushed her face into Darcy’s pussy, where Darcy batted my hands away and took over the using of her Aunt’s mouth and tongue as a sex toy. Not to be outdone, I shoved my cock roughly back into her, and began to pound away, forcing Rhonda to bump against Darcy’s pussy with each thrust, much to Darcy’s pleasure. Rhonda’s hands found there way to Darcy’s tits and began to play with them in a way that made Darcy writhe and whimper even more.
The pictures kept appearing on the screen, as the program was timed to do a random repeat after the whole series ran. But we were finally oblivious to the pictures of others and ourselves that splashed themselves on the walls. I fucked with all my might and body, giving every inch of my cock into Rhonda’s pussy. I could see Darcy’s hands entwined in Rhonda’ honey blonde hair, pulling her closer and closer. Darcy was staring at me, looking at me as I fucked them both, denying them nothing, giving them all they needed and wanted. Darcy grinned at me, and then licked her dark lips, and I came hard, bucking my hips and slapping Rhonda’s ass, starting a chain reaction of orgasms in her and Darcy, that left us all shaking and gasping for air, our sweaty limbs tangled in each other on that soft couch in that darkened room. I pressed one more button, and some calm music replaced the rock, and a photo montage of Jazz musicians in Paris came on the screen.