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From: Thinking Horndog <im_a_thinker@yahoo.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Ye Olde Pickup Place 7/9 {Thinking Horndog}(ScFi BBW MF MFF MMF/F D/s oral anal ir rom)
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Date: Tue, 10 Apr 2012 22:10:03 -0400
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A Swarm Cycle Story.  Chapter 7 of 9.
<1st attachment, "Ye_Olde_Pickup_7.txt" begin>

Author: Thinking Horndog
Title: Ye Olde Pickup Place
Part: 7 of 9
Universe: The Swarm Cycle
Summary: Some unguarded words at a favorite watering hole lead to some long-
term relationships.

Keywords: ScFi BBW MF MFF MMF/F D/s oral anal ir rom

Ye Olde Pickup Place

Chapter 7

Ronald:

        Actually, it was SUPPOSED to close the subject, but the hiatus only
lasted about five minutes.  Then Bridgette came boiling out of the back of
the house somewhere and said, "What's this about going naked?"

        "We're discussing it," I said mildly.  "What's wrong with it?"

        "It's WRONG!" Bridgette burst out.

        I held up a finger.  Bridgette made to go on, but I looked stern and
said, "Shut up!  We'll get back to you in a second."  Then I turned to Alan.
"Your mother is suffering from what we call a knee-jerk reaction -- which
means she starts having a fit without thinking first.  I bet you've seen this
before.  It's generally a sure sign of prejudice.  Watch this."  I turned
back to Bridgette.  "What's wrong with going naked in this house?"

        "It's just..."

        "Give me a reason.  What is there about the human body that makes it
necessary to hide it from people?"

        "Well, nothing, but..."

        "Has Alan seen you naked?"  She was in a robe at this point, but we'd
been fucking like rabbits on the floor ten minutes earlier, right in front of
him.

        "Well, yes."

        I turned to Alan.  "Did you see anything bad?"

        "No..."

        I turned back to Bridgette.  "What's the problem?"

        "It's WRONG!"

        "HOW is it wrong?"

        "People don't DO that!"

        "How do you know?  How many people's privacy have you breached to
make this determination?" I demanded.  While Bridgette was still sputtering,
I turned to Alan.  "This is prejudice.  One of the sure signs of prejudice is
that when you ask why, you get either stupid answers or none at all.  That's
because when Momma was told that she needed to hide herself from EVERYBODY,
she was younger than you are -- and they didn't TELL her a reason.  How many
times have you been told not to do something -- but not given a reason?  Or
you were told something stupid like, 'People don't do that'?  Tell me, Alan
-- has seeing Momma naked ruined you for life, do you think?  Or did you
learn something about what women look like?"

        Alan blinked.  "I'm okay.  I learned things."

        "Now, think about this, because Momma is going to try to raise it as
an objection.  Do you want to make babies with Momma?"

        Alan squinched up his face.  "I can't, can I?"

        "Correct!  You CAN'T!  Do you want to?"

        "No.  I don't know how."

        "Right.  You know how it is done -- you've seen it -- but you don't
know how YOU would do it, because you CAN'T!  You aren't ready and you aren't
physically capable and you have no desire to, right?"

        Alan went through the list.  "Right."

        I turned back to Bridgette.  "He's seen you have sex.  He's seen you
play with a vibrator.  What can top that?"

        Bridgette turned as red as a beet!  "Ron!"

        "We're desensitizing him.  He won't be chasing young girls trying to
rip their blouses off because he's SEEN titties!  He's seen a pussy -- and
even knows how it works.    I'm not talking about going out in public that
way -- I'm talking about here, in this house, in private.  He can get used to
seeing the human body and avoid some of the ignorant hang-ups that plague
people.  By the time he's old enough that you make him horny, he'll be so
used to you that it won't matter.  In particular, your body won't be
forbidden fruit.  He'll focus on babes his age and not develop an unhealthy
fascination with his momma."

        Bridgette wrung her hands and wailed, "I don't know!  Beatrice?"

        "Bridgette, I'm not asking you and I'm not asking Beatrice," I
warned.

        "Ron, I understand, but are you a parent?" Bridgette pressed.

        "I am now, apparently.  More important, I recognize a fuckup when I
see one," I replied.  "You're shoving the same crap in his head that
contributed to you being screwed up -- and he's a boy, I might add, not a
girl.  Now behave yourself or Papa spank!  If you can come back to me with a
REAL, LOGICAL reason, I'll listen.  Bullshit you were fed by your momma blind
when you were knee-high to a duck doesn't meet those criteria."  She stood
there fidgeting, so I patted the couch next to me.  "Come here."  She came
forward diffidently and settled next to me and I pulled her in for a cuddle.
"I'm not suborning your son.  I think he probably needs a little male
guidance.  On the other hand, YOU were the one who told ME last night how you
and your sister operate.  What did you say?  'If you catch us acting up, the
correct thing is to punish us.'  That's what got you done in front of
Alan..."

        "That was... fiendish," Bridgette said quietly.

        "Then you'll learn not to buck me, right?" I replied, hugging her to
me.

        "Yeah, I guess..."

        I looked at Beatrice, who was sitting on a chair arm, watching us.
"Did you learn anything?"

        Beatrice nodded.  "Yes.  I hope I can learn from Sis's mistake."

        "Okay," I replied.  "You two give this nudity thing some thought and
see what you come up with for objections.  It's here in the house, and we
make it clear to Alan that what goes on here is a private, family matter that
he doesn't tell his school chums.  Those are the rules.  We'll talk about it
later."

        Beatrice eyed me.  "This includes you?"

        "Yes.  At least, when I feel like it."

        "How do we keep our hands off each other?"

        "Maybe we don't."

        Beatrice flinched.  "I'm a little concerned about casual sex."

        I pursed my lips.  "I understand your concerns.  I won't go out of my
way to have sex with one or both of you in his presence, but I don't intend
to stop what I'm doing if he enters the room, either.  Today was an exception
-- we'll be keeping it in the bedroom, mostly.  On the other hand, if I feel
like rubbing your butt as an expression of my fondness for you, I'm not going
to look around to see where Alan is standing.  That will be true in public or
private settings, whether you are dressed or nude."  I nudged Bridgette.
"Up!  Your sister needs a hug!"  Bridgette hopped up and Beatrice replaced
her.  I cuddled Beatrice against me and asked, "So what is on the agenda?"

        The women shared a glance.  "Errands.  Groceries, that kind of
thing."

        "Do you need us for that?" I asked.

        Bridgette pursed her lips.  "We don't know what you eat."

        "Okay, that makes sense."  I sat there for a moment.  "So is it
premature to assume that I am moving in?"

        The women shared a glance.  "Gawd, I hope not!" Beatrice erupted.

        "My apartment clearly isn't suitable," I noted.  "I will hang onto it
through the end of this month and through next, but after that, if we're
still all doing well, I'll give notice.  In the meantime, I'll probably move
my stuff, in bits and pieces.  I'll provide money to help with costs of
things like putting food on the table and the rent and utilities.  All
right?"

        "Perfect!" Bridgette enthused.  "We've been trying to get more hours
in order to make ends meet..."

        "And now maybe you won't have to," I finished.  "Let me know when
it's time to head out."  Bridgette nodded and left the room.

        Beatrice whispered, "Ron?"  I looked down at her and she offered her
lips.

        "Do you want what I think you want?" I asked.

        "Yes."

        "And if I say no?"

        She ducked her head.  "Then it's no."

        "And if I say it's here?"

        Beatrice bit her lip.  "Then it's here.  Sis did it.  Alan has seen
it."

        "He hasn't seen you."

        "He will, I figure.  You'll make sure he does."

        "You're right."  I hugged her.  "But not right now."  I turned to
Alan.  "Aunt Bea wants to make babies, so I'm taking her into the bedroom.
If you decide that you need to see it, you know where to find us.  I'm not
stopping to explain anything."

        Alan shrugged.  "Okay."  I took Beatrice by the hand and we headed
for her room.

        We both shucked down to nothing immediately.  I climbed onto the bed
and Beatrice crawled between my legs.  "I want to suck you."

        "Okay."

        "You didn't do anything like that out there..."

        "I didn't want to confuse Alan with stuff that wasn't on-point," I
replied.  "What he got was plenty."  Beatrice nodded and sucked me in.
Knowing what she wanted, I stuck both hands in her hair and forced her to
take me deep.  I did that every few strokes for a couple of minutes, but I
wanted to fuck, so I pushed her back and said, "Stay on your hands and knees.
I'm coming in from behind."  Beatrice nodded and turned around and I
collected her hips and rubbed my cock on her wet split.  It popped open and I
found her opening and pulled her onto me.

        Beatrice moaned and gasped, "Give it to me!  I want it!"  I started
pounding and she started driving her ass back to meet me.  It was good --
REAL good!  Beatrice panted and moaned and stopped to shudder her way through
an orgasm on three different occasions before I triggered a fourth by
shooting her full of babymakers.  After we enjoyed the aftermath for a bit,
she whipped around, one hand cupping her crotch while she sucked me in to
clean me off -- and I became aware that she was eyeing the doorway.

        I turned my head and Alan was standing there, watching.  I grinned
and waved.  He grinned and waved back and turned to wander off.  "See?  He's
used to it already."

        "Mmmmm hmmmm."  After a moment, she hopped off the bed and reached
for her nightgown.  I snatched it and said, "Just go -- he's seen it all."  I
got no arguments.


        Beatrice worked that night, so Bridgette got more attention in the
evening.  Sunday, they were both off, so we decided to go out.  Being out
with two women could spark questions, but I figured that the explanation that
they were sisters would be enough.  But Jackson called, wanting to go
drinking, so I pulled him in so we looked like two couples.  We did a little
eating and a little drinking and a little dancing.  Jackson was happy to swap
out whenever I picked one girl over the other.  They were off at the ladies
room late that evening when Jackson leaned up and said, "You are a lucky
mother fucker!"

        "Don't I know it!" I agreed.

        "Are you gonna take 'em?"

        "Take 'em where?"

        "You know -- when you go."

        "I'm not going."

        "No?"

        "Pickups are unpredictable, but I never seem to be where there is
one.  I don't see that changing," I told him.

        "What if it did?"

        "They don't care.  They're hooked by my sterling personality."

        "You're not answering the question."

        "What makes you think I have the score?" I asked.

        "Come on..."

        "Yeah.  Hell, I bet they've both tossed their birth control pills in
the trash.  I already told 'em I plan to get kids on both of 'em.  Why would
I leave 'em?"

        "What if you have to?"

        "Then I ain't going."

        "Seriously?"

        "Seriously."

        "What if something happened and you could only take one?"

        I eyed him.  "What's your angle?"

        "I want to bat cleanup."

        I chuckled.  "Go find your own!"

        "Yeah, right.  I can't find a blowjob with a thousand bucks in my
pocket," Jackson complained mournfully.  Now, Jackson is a little homely --
but he is also full-blood Choctaw.  That's an Indian tribe from out in
Oklahoma, for those of you that don't know.  He isn't stupid, either -- but
he didn't get a good education on the reservation.  The tribal elders were
too busy trying to get into gambling casinos.  Everybody wants to take the
shortcut...

        "Well, they're a little unusual.  You have to have the right
mindset," I advised.  "I really don't want to go into details, but neither of
them is your usual chickie."

        "They can't be too bad.  Neither of them bucks you at all.  How long
have they known?"

        "They don't," I replied.  "YOU don't, for that matter.  But that's
one of the things about them.  They say they don't care -- and I believe
them."

        "They've seen it."

        "Nope.  Of course, you haven't, either, and you could be just as
deluded as they are."

        Jackson grinned.  'I'll show you mine if you'll show me yours."

        I laughed.  "Sounds too much like playing doctor!"

        "Shit.  I can't go.  It's close, but no cigar."

        "I'm not telling you, Man!  Sorry!"

        "You just did."

        "Did I?  Maybe this is how I hold onto those poor, deluded females!"

        "What poor deluded females?" Bridgette asked.

        "You and your sister.  Jackson is making assumptions regarding, well,
it."  You didn't even SAY CAP in public.  "I'm telling him that he doesn't
know -- it could go either way -- and that drawing assumptions from you two
could lead him in the wrong direction."

        "Oh."  Beatrice had arrived with her sister.  "It was never about
that.  It started out with him sticking up for me and saying nice things
about me to that asshole Chet.  Then I got to know him..."

        "I elbowed my way in because Sis had a good thing going and I was
jealous," Bridgette insisted as she settled into her chair.

        "So if he's got a three?" Jackson asked quietly.

        "Then we live happily ever after -- or until the aliens arrive,"
Bridgette replied.  "It's not like we've got options, anyway.  Who gets
picked up these days?"

        "They happen," Jackson said defensively.

        "Around here?"  Bridgette shook her head.  "We've got a base full of
soldiers up the street, none of whom are eligible to go anywhere.  Those guys
are looking elsewhere.  If and when they DO decide to take soldiers, THEN
maybe there will be a big pickup.  ONE big pickup."

        "Well, girls, you'll be happy to know that Jackson here has gallantly
offered to tend your home fires in the unlikely event that I should get
kidnapped by big guys in uniform.  Of course, I TOLD him I'm not going
anywhere, but he's under the impression that I might be eligible.  I also
TOLD him that If I WERE eligible and I got caught out somewhere without you
two, I'm not going!"

        "You are, too!" Beatrice insisted hotly.  "You go -- you hear me?
Bridgette, YOU tell him!"

        "Hey, pipe down!  It's irrelevant, anyway!" I yelped.  "Let's not get
killed by some self-centered jackass for nothing!"

        "Well," Beatrice muttered, somewhat mollified, "You go, anyway."

        "Who died and made YOU boss?" I rasped.

        "This goes beyond!" Bridgette insisted.  "There's no way we would
want to tie you down -- we'd never forgive ourselves!"

        "Let's not borrow trouble," I said quietly.  "And this place isn't
noisy enough to cover this argument, so let's not have it here."

        "Yes, milord," Beatrice leaned over and pecked me on the cheek.  "Can
we dance some more?  I love to dance.  Nobody ever used to dance with me."

        "What about me?" Jackson muttered mournfully.

        "You do all right, Honey."  Bridgette patted him on the cheek.  "I'll
take you out again."

        So we went back out on the floor, and I proved that I'm the most
graceful guy with two left feet you ever saw.  Beatrice didn't complain,
though.

        It got late, so we headed for the apartment.  Alan was in bed, so we
sent the babysitter on her way and Beatrice went back to the kitchen to pull
us all a beer out of the refrigerator, despite the fact that we'd all had a
few.  When she got back, Jackson begged off.

        "I should go," he said.  "Thanks for the dances, ladies -- I'll
probably have a hard-on for a week from rubbing on y'all."

        "Take the load off, Jackson," I told him.  "There's always the couch.
Girls, what do you think of ol' Jackson?"

        "I think he's sweet," Bridgette replied, patting him on the cheek.

        "Me, too," Beatrice agreed.

        "Well, I'm constrained from calling him sweet by the book of man
rules," I replied, "but he IS my closest friend.  What do you girls think of
that member of the family idea he brought up?"

        The women shared a glance.  "You're the lord and master here,"
Beatrice murmured.

        "That's not being argued," I replied, "but there IS only one of me.
There might be less suffering if there was another male running around the
place."

        "I don't know..."  Beatrice looked seriously bothered.

        "Um, Ron, I don't want to make the girls uncomfortable..." Jackson
ventured.  "They're just so sweet -- well, okay, I admit that I was hoping to
get a piece of this sweet deal you've got here.  But I wasn't looking to
steal anything -- just be the back door man."

        Beatrice was still unhappy, but Bridgette got this look on her face
at the words 'back door.'  "Sis..."  She dragged Beatrice off to the kitchen.

        "Ron, I wasn't serious, Man.  Well, I was, but it was only if you
were gone," Jackson muttered.

        "Well, there's no one I would rather leave my legacy to -- IF I was
leaving a legacy," I replied.  "But there are a couple of other issues here.
I've been getting laid once, twice, three times a day, and it starts to wear
on you, believe it or not.  Now I KNOW that both of them are juiced up from
the dancing and they're going to want a piece of me -- and I KNOW that your
dick is about to tear a hole in your blue jeans.  I'm trying to point things
in a direction that makes sense."

        The girls came back at that point.  After a shared glance, Beatrice
announced, "We have concerns."

        "But?"

        "Well, Bridgette, at least, thinks there might be some common
ground."

        I flicked a glance at Jackson.  "I'm listening."

        "Okay, first, we both like Jackson," Bridgette began.

        "...But YOU are lord and master here, and neither of us wants to
be..." Beatrice burst in but ran out of steam.

        "... Fobbed off on somebody?" I finished.

        "Right."  They nodded in unison.  "Jackson needs to understand that
we're both YOUR girls and neither of us is HIS girl," Bridgette pointed out.

        "Oh, I understand, believe me!" Jackson insisted.

        "I do, too, actually," I noted.  "I'm greedy and have no intention of
releasing my claim on either of you."  I eyed them.  "Is that the big
objection?"

        Beatrice pursed her lips.  "More or less."

        "Okay, then -- let me get a word in edgewise.  As you so carefully
noted, I AM lord and master here, by our operating rules.  That being the
case, I could DIRECT that this happen, could I not?"  Jackson opened his
mouth, but I held up a finger and he shut up.  The girls threw guilty glances
at each other and then nodded.  "That said, I asked you for your opinions --
and I got them."  I eyed Bridgette.  "I'm somewhat interested in the thought
process that caused you to drag your sister to the kitchen.  Do you want me
to guess, or do you want to tell me?"

        Bridgette grimaced.  "Can it wait?"

        "A minute or two, maybe," I agreed.  "Might as well grab that beer,
Jackson, and take a seat."  Jackson picked up the beer off the coffee table
and settled onto the couch.  I turned back to the girls.  "Now, as you are
aware, there are two of you -- and only one of me.  That is indeed a fine
situation, but you know and I know that it tends to cause one of you to be
left out on a regular basis.  At the rate the pair of you drain my balls, I
can't guarantee that every ride is going to be of the same high quality
unless I take an occasional break to recharge."

        "You haven't missed yet!" Bridgette erupted.

        "There is always a first time!" I retorted.  "Let's look at tonight,
for instance.  Both of you are juicy from dancing, am I right?  Well, I've
got a fine hard-on, too, but I've been drinking -- and as I've previously
mentioned, there are two of you."

        "Ron?  Milord?"  Beatrice raised her hand like a school kid.

        "Yes?" I replied.  "The chair recognizes the cute redhead."

        "We want YOUR babies!" Beatrice burst out.  "No offense, Jackson."

        "None taken."

        "Jackson, my good man, do you have a serious objection to rubbers?" I
asked.

        "Nothing THAT serious!  I don't like 'em, but would I pass up one of
these beautiful ladies by refusing to wear one?  No way!" Jackson replied.

        "Now, if you don't mind, may I continue?" I browbeat the women.  "In
case you hadn't noticed, we had issues getting out the door tonight, because
one male with two females can cause the infernally stupid to make assumptions
dangerous to our collective welfare.  I happen to think that Jackson did a
fine job filling in the hole in our table of organization and that it might
simplify things if he was around regularly to perform that function.
Frankly, I can't think of anyone I'd rather have in that position, but, I
dunno, maybe you prefer Chet?"

        "Ewww!" Beatrice wrinkled her nose.

        "Now, it is my belief that you don't offer a position like that to a
man without some compensation.  I know I would go rapidly insane in the
presence of two hotties such as yourselves if all I got to do was sniff it
while some other guy was dipping his wick.  Am I making any sense here?"

        "Yes," Bridgette nodded, smiling.  "Go on, Lord."

        "So I'm proposing that we make Jackson a member of the family -- not
at the top of the tree, but down at a lower level."

        "Might I ask at what level, Lord?" Beatrice asked carefully.

        "Well, now, that's a good question," I mused.  "You two answer to me
in all things, and I have certain expectations of you.  I'm not sure that's
where Jackson is on the org chart."  I turned to Jackson.  "She's concerned
about controls, of course.  We're a bit beyond boyfriend and girlfriends --
and while it might look at first like a pre-pack, it isn't.  They just like
having someone be the boss -- someone demanding.  I'm growing into the job.
It really requires a lengthy explanation, but for now, take my word for it.
I'm thinking that where they're concerned, you go where you're invited.  If
you're not being invited enough, I'll want to know why.  I'll be giving them
instructions, periodically, anyway.  I'm thinking that if you tell them to do
something, it needs to be from me -- but you can ask them.  Basically, you
get normal rights -- whatever they want to give you -- while I have quite a
bit more than that, including the right to tell them to handle your
business."  I turned to the girls.  "Questions?  Comments?"

        "So he's not our boss, but he can come to us with instructions from
you," Bridgette clarified.

        "Yeah.  You can question something if you think he's jerking you
around, but I don't see that happening.  It's a great way to get asked to
leave and I really don't see Jackson pulling that shit.  He can ask you for
whatever he wants, and you can say no if you want.  You can offer him
something if you're in the mood.  That's all optional.  If I tell you to put
out, that's NOT optional -- but I'd rather not be in the habit of that."  I
turned to Beatrice.  "Is that good enough?  If not, what else would make you
happy?"

        Beatrice eyed me sidelong. "Just the rubber thing."

        "Rubbers until further notice.  Pregnant women don't need them, for
instance, for obvious reasons," I noted.  Beatrice nodded.  "Are we all
clear, then?  Anything else?"  I eyed the girls.  They shook their heads,
Bridgette more positively than Beatrice, but it was unanimous.  I turned to
Jackson and stuck out my hand to shake his.  "Welcome to the family.  Both of
you get naked -- we're at home with the family and Jackson is no longer a
guest.  Bridgette, come sit on my lap and see if you can explain our
operating model -- and what you went through.  Beatrice, see if you can suck
a load out of Jackson so he relaxes some.  Do you know why it's up to you?"

        Beatrice made a face.  "Because I complained a lot?"

        "Maybe, but from your perspective, it's simpler than that.  It's for
the same reason you do everything else, which is?"  I nudged Bridgette.

        "Because he said so, Sis!  Wake up!" Bridgette laughed.


        So Bridgette draped herself, naked, across my lap and the chair arms,
and Beatrice, equally naked, helped Jackson out of his pants and knelt up to
suck his cock.  He sat there with his eyes bulging out of his head as she
rolled her lips over the tip.  "Shit!" he groaned, "This is gonna take about
ten seconds!"

        I waved it off, unworried.  "There's more where that came from, I
bet."  For the record, he might have made it to twenty before Beatrice
started gulping cum.  She gave me a look, but I stared her down.  Meanwhile,
Bridgette launched into her history and, perhaps more important, the
implications.

        Jackson's response?  "I will be dipped in shit!  Are you kidding me?
You tripped over what amounts to two natural-born slaves?"

        I shrugged.  "Seems like it."

        "Well, better you than me -- I'm not sure I could do things bass-
ackwards," Jackson replied.  "I know they probably give off strange signals."

        "Yeah, sometimes."

        "Okay, I'm happy to play it straight."

        I reached up and tweaked Bridgette's right nipple.  "NOW you can tell
me..."

        "Well, I enjoyed most of those things I did," Bridgette replied
softly.  "Two guys kind of opens up some possibilities, you know?"

        "Yeah, I guess," I agreed.  "For now, you need to catch up to your
sister."

        "I'm happy to!"  Bridgette climbed off my lap and sucked in my cock.
Her magic mouth had me going in no time and cumming in only a couple of
minutes.  "Now what?" she asked, licking her lips.

        "Fuck Jackson.  See if you can drain him dry," I directed.
"Beatrice?  Bedroom.  March!"

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