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Subject: {ASSM} Opening The Box (Part 6) By Katzmarek  (Fm,Fm,mf,mf)
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<1st attachment, "Opening The Box6.txt" begin>

OPENING THE BOX (Part 6)


By KATZMAREK


--------------------------------------------------------------
Disclaimer.


This is a work of erotic fiction. It remains the property of the
author and may not be reproduced for profit without the author's
express permission.


----------------------------------------------------------------


The party season was beginning. Justin imagined all sorts of
problems. Although Chrissie and Angela attended different
schools, there was always a crossover of partygoers. He couldn't
be sure he wouldn't run into someone who knew he was dating
someone else from whom he arrived with. It was difficult backing
out of an invitation without an iron-cast alibi. Such were the
risks of two-timing, or in his case, three-timing women.


With Chrissie, however, he'd found someone who, like himself,
didn't really enjoy parties. Fiercely possessive, she wasn't
going to put 'her' man in the way of the competition. As the
weeks ticked over towards Christmas, she much preferred going to
movies, or a dinner for two. That way she had him within easy
reach. There were parties, though, where it just wasn't good
manners not to attend.


Angela was definitely a party girl by contrast. She intended to
display Justin as often as she could. He was her territory and
she was determined to remind everyone of that fact. She liked to
dance and hauled Justin up to partner her. He soon discovered a
latent rhythm and talent for dancing. He decided it wasn't a
world away from sex.


But sex is what Justin could do best. He absorbed all the
knowledge, both theoretical and practical that he came across.
His preoccupation  probably bordered on the obsessional. For the
time being, however, neither Chrissie, Angela nor Sharon seemed
to mind.


Like she was reliving a past of furtive couplings under trees and
in remote places, Sharon kept calling him at least once a week.
Often it was during her lunch break. She'd call and give him a
place and time, then wordlessly drag him to some 'make out'
point. There she would suck him to hardness then fuck him. Always
frantic, always with a veil of 'naughtiness' about it. Afterwards
she'd push him on his way as if ashamed of herself, and of him.


Sex with all three of his 'women' was sensational, but for
different reasons.


Angela was fun-loving. She like to wrestle, clown around and
tease. She'd lick Justin's cock, calling it her 'joy stick', rub
him with her small tits, laugh and joke and sit on his face. She
liked Justin to suck her pussy while fingering the cheeks of her
tight little butt. Justin would fuck her slowly, often with her
lying across the bed while he stood. Her legs would wrap
themselves around his waist. When she came, tears filled her eyes
and she'd moan that she loved him.


Chrissie liked to be 'persuaded.' She remained passive, staring
blankly at the movie screen, while Justin stalked her thigh.
She'd wear a short skirt, even though she knew his hand would
drift under it. In the dark of the movie theatre, Chrissie draped
a jacket over her lap as Justin's hand slipped higher. She'd lean
against his shoulder as his fingers played over her mound.


After the cinema he'd drive her down to the river bank. She'd
complain that he'd keep her past curfew. Justin would tell her
not to worry, they'd only be a little while. 'I just want to
spend a few minutes with you, all alone.' There was no doubt what
that 'few minutes' would involve.


Wordlessly they'd get out of the car and push forward the front
seats of the EVO. From experience they knew the centre console
impeded their lovemaking. Once squashed into the back seat, she'd
kiss enthusiastically while permitting Justin to pull up her top.
Chrissie would close her eyes as Justin sucked and licked her
full breasts. She'd pretend not to notice when he pulled her hand
down to the front of his jeans. Absently, she'd knead him as he
grew hard beneath her palm.


"We shouldn't, not here!" she'd complain, routinely.


"Just a little longer," Justin would say, massaging her mound
under her short skirt.


It was far too cramped for fucking in the back seat of the
Mitsubishi. Justin would pull Chrissie out, complaining.


"No, Justin, someone might come," she'd moan as he pulled down
her panties.


Then bent forward over the bonnet of the car, or down on the
grass, she'd help him fit his big cock into her pussy. By that
time she was always ready and thrust back at him as he stroked
into her. They quickly became a great team, catching each other's
rhythm, sensing one another's peaks. Chrissie always came loudly,
despite her fear of discovery. Her orgasm usually triggered his,
blasting into her hot pussy as it spasmed with pleasure.


Sometimes the sessions were so intense, Chrissie would walk
unsteadily back home from the end of her street where Justin
would always leave her. As far as he was aware, her Mother had no
inkling of her daughter's new lover's identity.


----------------------------------------------------------------


The following Friday, Angela's night, his blond fox called to
tell him that she'd been invited to some 'ladies' night.' He
wasn't sure what the euphemism stood for, they'd joked about male
strip shows and such like, but she assured him it was nothing
more than a chance for her and the girls to have a night away
from the boys. As if the news had been telegraphed instantly,
Sharon called and tersely gave him an address.


If Justin was disturbed by the uncanniness of it all, at least it
filled in the evening. It beat a lonely night in watching TV.


The address was not far from his house, deep in the leafy
suburbs. Sharon gave no more information than was strictly
necessary to get there at the appointed hour. That, at least, was
no more than he was used to.


The house was large and well back from the road. Justin parked
his car in the drive amid the manicured lawns and neatly pruned
trees. A woman, perhaps in her fifties, answered the door. She
was dressed in the same work uniform that Sharon wore. However
her tie had been discarded and her collar opened.


"Yes?" she asked, a little confused and swaying slghtly.


A strong whiff of alcohol assailed Justin's nostrils.


"Is that Justin?" called Sharon from inside the house.


"I dunno," the woman said, "a boy..."


"White rally car? Writing on the door? 'bout 5.10, dark hair?"


"Yes. You never said he was so young," the woman said standing
aside and beckoning Justin into the house.


The lounge was thick with tobacco smoke. Two glasses and a bottle
of rum cluttered a small glass table set between two settees.
Sharon slumped in one, clearly the worse for the alcohol.


"Ah Justin," she said, "right on time, as usual."


The other woman entered and took the other settee.


"Justin, this is Frances, she wanted to meet you."


"Now I didn't," Frances protested, "you said..."


"I said, I knew a hot date and you said that's just what you
needed."


"No I didn't... well maybe I did... but I didn't realise he'd be
so young. Sharon, are you saying that you and he..."


"Oh yes, he's young," Sharon replied, "but so talented. He does
what he's told and keeps his mouth shut, don't you sugar?"


Justin shuffled uncomfortably in the middle of the room. He felt
he was being appraised, like some prize bull.


"Sit down honey lips," Sharon smirked, "right beside Frances. Be
nice to her."


"Sharon!" Frances protested, "I don't think..."


"Oh what more do you want, darling? He's good looking, slim,
obedient, enthusiastic and hung like a donkey."


Both women burst out laughing.


"What more do I want?" laughed Frances, "well a beard perhaps?"


"Oh I'm sure he shaves," replied Sharon, "besides, who wants
sandpaper scratching your thighs?"


More laughter. Justin rolled his eyes, looked at the floor. He
didn't like being made a fool of like this. The situation was
weird, he knew he should leave, but curiousity got the better of
him. He sat down next to the older woman.


Frances had greying hair and pearl earings swinging from her
ears. The Travel Company's uniform jacket was unbuttoned, her
knee length skirt clung to her shapely crossed legs encased in
sheer Nylon. Justin watched how her leg swung as she talked, and
joked, with Sharon.


"...Lovely hands," Sharon was saying, "like my ex-husband's. And
those 'come-hither eyes..."


Justin continued to watch Frances's foot swing like a pendulum.


"...Morals like an alley-cat..." Sharon went on, "just like
Frank... anything warm, that was Frank, the arsehole!"


Sharon's speech was slurred. Justin hadn't seen her so drunk
before.


"...My daughter Chrissie had a crush on him since before she got
tits..."


Justin jerked as if he'd been given an electric shock. His senses
were instantly on alert.


"...But I knew he was grief. So like Frank. She could do much
better. He was so easy to pull," Sharon chuckled, "flash some
pussy..."


'She *knew* all along about Chrissie's liking for him!' Justin
thought. The feeling began to grow that he'd been set up all
along.


"...But we cured her little obsession, didn't we sugar? Walked
right in on us... always takes a shower first thing Saturday
morning. The only shower's in my en-suite you see, Fran. Cunning
of me don't you think?"


"That's awful!" Frances replied, "you steal her, her..."


"Fantasy, Fran. And that's all it will ever be, won't it sugar?"
she looked squarely at Justin, "Because Justin knows that if he
ever laid a hand on my daughter, his dick will be a lot shorter!"


Both women dissolved into more laughter. Justin squirmed
uncomfortably.


"Sit a bit closer to Frances, will you Justin. Giver her some
attention!" Sharon told him.


Automatically, Justin shuffled closer to the other woman.


"I don't think..." Frances started to say.


"Oh yes you do," Sharon said, "he'll be very good to you."


"But I haven't... with anyone... since Jim died," said Frances,
"no man's touched me in years..."


"Well it's way past time. Justin give her a kiss... put your arm
around her...go on!"


Dumbly Justin leaned in. Frances accepted his kiss reluctantly,
but did not move away when he moved in for a second. Trying to
ignore Sharon's smirking presence, he applied himself to the
task, nibbling and licking her slowly responding lips.


"Oh my, my..." Frances sighed.


"Good, eh?" Sharon commented, "go on, Justin, take her through to
the bedroom and show her a good time. Start with a good massage,
perhaps?"


Like an automaton, Justin stood and took the woman's hand.
Frances allowed him to pull her to her feet and be towed towards
the bedroom door.


"I shouldn't..." Frances protested.


"Oh go-on, get some dick!" cajoled Sharon.


Frances stumbled after Justin and through into the bedroom, still
protesting. The blinds were already drawn, the room was dim and
dominated by an immaculately made bed. Her hands lightly rested
on Justin's hips as he continued to kiss her rum and tobacco
flavoured lips.


"You know, you don't have to do this. It was all Sharon's..." she
started to say before being cut off by Justin's kissing. "Oh my!
I haven't been kissed like that since Jim..."


Justin slipped his arms around her waist, under her jacket. He
continued to kiss her, open-mouthed and passionately.


"Perhaps," she said quietly, breathing heavily, "a little playing
but I don't think we should..."


Justin silenced her with his mouth. He was starting to feel
turned on himself. Her reluctance seemed to fuel his desire. Her
hands held onto his hips a little more firmly. Justin pulled her
tighter against his chest, feeling her boobs squash between them.


"Would you care for a massage?" Justin asked her.


"Well, perhaps," she replied, "Sharon said you were quite good at
it. Massage, I mean," she added, reddening.


She backed away and took off her jacket. Her breasts, although
smaller than Sharon's, were strongly supported. Justin imagined
that, released, they would sag a fair bit. Frances undid the belt
of her tight skirt, lowered the zip at the side, and dragged it
down over her hips with difficulty.


Her stockings clung to her legs and were held up by a suspender
belt. Justin had only seen them in photos and was greatly
impressed. Her skin was a little loose, her tummy flowed slightly
over the elastic of her white panties.


Frances turned quickly away as she shed her shirt. Justin watched
the expanse of her back, dotted with freckles and a little worn.
Her bra strap cut straining across under her shoulder blades.
Carefully she unclipped it and, holding the cups to her chest,
lay flat on her stomach on the bed.


Justin stripped down to his briefs. Frances turned to look at him
and widened her eyes. Her mouth opened to say something but
snapped shut. Clearly he'd taken her by surprise. He was enjoying
the game.


The woman seemed excited but still flooded with doubts. Perhaps
the alcohol had clouded her 'better judgement' to an extent that
she felt she could let herself go. In any case Justin felt she
was trying to convince herself that he was going to give her a
little 'straight' relaxing massage. Even if the evidence
suggested otherwise.


He oiled up his hands from a bottle left conveniently on the
bedside table. He recognised the scent as Sharon's blend.
Obviously this whole scene had been well-planned.


Justin worked his hands up her spine and over the crease made by
her bra strap. Frances shivered with the contact but soon began
humming in pleasure. He worked around her shoulders, pressing in
with his thumbs.


"You're tense!" he told her.


"Hmm hmm," she crooned.


His hands worked their way down her sides and tantalisingly close
to the swells of her breasts, still protected in their bra cups.
Frances shivered as Justin allowed his fingertips to brush her
tit flesh. His hands continued on down and over the small of her
back. He pushed his fingers underneath the suspender belt onto
the Nylon of her panties.


"May I?" he asked, undoing the belt.


"Um!" she grunted uncertainly, but the deed was done.


He peeled each stocking down in turn keeping the maximum contact
with her thighs and legs.


"Um!" she again grunted, but, again, too late.


Justin worked on her legs, watching the flesh ripple between his
fingers and thumbs. Over the creased skin of her thighs his
fingers inched the way upwards towards the expanse of her
panty-covered arse.


He sat astride her legs, moving upwards so the bulge of his cock
grazed the bottom of her arse cheeks.


"Oh... ah... I don't..." she exclaimed as his hands felt down her
sides and onto her tit flesh.


"Over!" Justin ordered, getting off her.


Obediantly Frances moved onto her side, still clutching her bra
cups protectively against her. Nervously she inched onto her
back, looking for all the world like a nervous virgin.


"Please," she whined, "don't, don't look at me like that. I'm not
a young girl anymore."


"Your body's fine," Justin told her.


Blushing, she replied he must be blind. She was, however, clearly
pleased by the compliment.


Justin reached out and gently took her bra from under her hands.
Swallowing, she explained that her boobs sagged now from when she
was younger. Nevertheless she let Justin drag her bra away and
discard it.


Her breasts still had some shape, but her distended nipples
pointed a little towards her toes. Babies had sapped some of the
life out of them, but Justin ran his hands over them and assured
her they were sexy. Frances smiled with pleasure.


Rolling a boob between his hands, his fingers felt the soft
crinkly texture of the skin. Her nipples were large and brown and
now stood stiffly to attention. He imagined they'd been well
chewed over years of bearing children. Gently, Justin touched his
lips to it.


"Oh!" she exclaimed, "tickles, uh!"


Justin stretched out beside her and continued to tongue her
breasts. She lightly stroked his head as he ran his free hand
over her body.


"Oh my!" she murmured, "nice... uh!"


She whispered that it had been a long time since she'd been this
close to a half-naked man. His fingers trailed down over the
front of her panties and rested on her prominent mons. Her thighs
twitched in response, her body shivered. Her right arm fell
between them, the back of her hand brushed his hard cock
stretching his briefs. Justin noticed her breathing quicken,
rasping through her nose. It aroused him. Turning her head to him
she whispered,


"Goodness, you're a big boy, aren't you?"


Her thighs parted slowly as Justin began to rub her in earnest.
Her mouth fell open and she blew out a lung-full of air.


"Kiss me!" she gasped.


Justin fastened his mouth to hers, plunging his tongue past her
teeth to seek out hers. Their lips worked rythmically together.
Frances's head fell back onto the pillow and Justin followed it.
Rolling half on top of her, he pushed his hand inside her panties
to be met by a warm flood of desire. His finger sawed steadily
along her sopping slit, working into her boiling hole.


Her thighs flew apart, stretching the elastic tight over the back
of his wrist. With one hand he wrenched her panties down, Frances
snapped her knees closed to permit him to pull them up over her
legs and off. She then opened wide again for him. He obliged her
by continuing to stroke her pussy.


Moaning, Frances pulled his elastic aside and reached for his
cock. Seizing him she pulled it free of his briefs, her fingers
curled around the girth.


"Oh!" she moaned, "so hard, I..."


Pulling him towards her pussy, she whispered for him to be gentle
with her.


"I don't like the... uh... rough stuff... please!"


Justin got between her thighs and probed for her entrance with
his cock. Suddenly he sunk in, barely feeling the walls of her
vagina despite his size. Nevertheless she groaned and grabbed him
by the butt, pulling him harder and deeper inside her. She began
to rock herself against him. Mouth open, she moaned steadily as
Justin matched her movements.


He breasts were kind of squeezed out the sides. Justin pinched
her nipples as he built up speed. Frances sucked at her bottom
lip, her moaning grew in intensity. Justin ground himself against
her pubic bone. She squeezed him with her thighs and clenched her
pussy. In response, Justin moved in a circular motion, grabbing
her by the arse and fingering her fleshy cheeks.


"Oh, my God!" she panted, "ooo... oh... OH..."


Justin rapidly thrust into the woman, making sure he ground onto
her clit on the downward stroke.


"OH YES... OH..." she continued, "OOOHHH... GOD!"


She bit the pillow, clutched at the sheet, lifted her pelvis
clear of the bed and threw herself at Justin. She squirmed and
wriggled and babbled unintelligably. Carried along by her
ecstasy, Justin came powerfully inside her, setting off another
round of gasps and moans. Slowly she subsided, heaving
desperately for air.


"Smoke too much," she rasped, grinning.


They were slippery with perspiration. Frances, however, wouldn't
release Justin until he had fully wilted inside her. Even then,
she lay with her thighs apart, and glistening, chest heaving
rolling her boobs around.


Suddenly, Justin felt a stinging blow between his shoulders.
Something bounced past his ear and crashed onto the floor.


"BASTARD!" yelled Sharon, "GET OUT OF HERE, YOU ARSEHOLE!"


Justin rolled off the bed and stared at the furious woman by the
door. In her hand was a glass ready to throw.


"No!" he cried, holding his hands up to his face, "what have I
done?"


"Nothing," she subsided, putting down the glass, "and everything.
Go home, Justin, just... just fuck off!"


Justin looked from one woman to the other. Frances looked
stunned, she nodded towards the door and mouthed, 'go!' Sharon
staggered back into the lounge, there was a crash as she stumbled
over the coffee table. Retrieving his clothes, Justin watched the
door carefully as he pulled on his things.


"I don't understand!" he whined to Frances, "what have I supposed
to have done?"


"Isn't it obvious?" she asked, enigmatically.


Justin still looked confused.


"I think you'd better talk to Sharon. But not yet," she
cautioned, "in a day or so, perhaps. She's too bombed at the
moment."


Frances gave him a quick kiss and ushered him out the door.


"You're all she said you were," she whispered, "and more!"


---------------------------------------------------------------


The next day Justin received an angry call from Chrissie.


"What have you been doing to my mother?" she yelled.


"Honestly, I don't know," he tried to say, "she just went
ballistic... hit me with a bottle."


"And what were you doing at the time Justin?" she asked,
menacingly.


"I wasn't having sex with her if that's what you mean," he
replied truthfully, if somewhat evasively.


"Well you've hurt her somehow, Justin. You didn't tell her about
us?"


"Of course not. I... I just don't know."


Chrissie rang off with a loud click. Confused as always, Justin
had an early night for the first time in weeks.


Miserable, Justin had no-one he could confide in and seek advice.
He couldn't very well call Angela, usually his first port of
call. He couldn't tell Chrissie, oblivious, but suspicious of his
continuing affair with her mother. His mother and step-father
were distant. All that was left was his real father and he was
somewhere down south, selling jewelry at some local fair.
Typically, his cellphone was turned off or left behind.


He cruised past Sharon's Travel Company. He'd often seen her
through the window working in the open-style office. Today,
however, her desk was unoccupied. Clearly she was still in
recovery from last night's 'bender.'


He marched into the office and up to the reception desk. The
finely made-up young clerk beamed falsely and asked him what she
could do for him.


"Does a Frances somebody work here?" he asked her.


"Frances La Chatelleon? She's our manager, owner actually. She's
on a lunch break, can I make you an appointment? Are you
travelling overseas? We have some information..."


"No, no," Justin told her, "it's a personal matter, I'm..."


The girl suggested he wait as Frances wouldn't be long. Justin
sank into one of the big chairs and glanced idly at the
brochures. Shortly Frances clicked businesslike into the office
and headed for her office. The girl called to her and nodded
towards Justin. She took one look at him and reeled. Collecting
herself, she indicated her office and marched in.


"You can go in," the girl said, unnecessarily.


Through the door, Frances rounded on him.


"Shut the door!" she demanded, "what the hell are you doing
here?"


"I.. I just wanted to talk," Justin whined, "I want to know
what's wrong with Sharon."


"Oh for Christ's sake!" she looked upwards in exasperation,
"Sharon's fallen in love with you. Isn't it obvious?"


"But... but..." Justin tried to say.


"Look, you may think she's in control, but who's going to end
this? Sharon? I don't think so. You know something?" she
pondered, "you remind her of her husband, that's it. He was an
arsehole to her, always screwing around. Inadvertantly, you
hooked some memory of hers, perhaps reminded her of something her
husband did. The booze and everything... she blew a fuse. It was
all a big mistake. Please don't call again. Don't try to see us.
It was all wrong, sorry!"


With that, she opened the door and indicated he should go. As he
moved past her, she whispered,


"Justin, thanks for a great night. Goodbye!"


He stumped heavily out of the Travel Office. Once onto the street
he had one last look through the window. He caught the girl on
reception looking at him. He winked at her and smiled. The girl
beamed happily back. Justin continued on down the street
whistling.


KATZMAREK (C)
<1st attachment end>


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