“Daphne, how many drinks have you had tonight?”

“Ugh, Mother, who the hell’s counting?”

Delilah slapped her daughter on the cheek, hard.

“Ow, what the hell!” Daphne rubbed her stinging cheek and glared at her mother, her hazel eyes flashing. The two of them looked similar in many ways: both had bobbed black hair styled with a headband, red lipstick, and a face that was beautiful even when roused to anger. Delilah was shorter and heavier, with deep brown eyes, a broad ass, and enormous pillowy boobs. She wore a sleeveless dress the color of honeydew melon and long white gloves. Daphne was taller and slimmer, and while her tits couldn’t be classified as enormous, they were certainly a handful. She wore an appliqué dress in lilac with spaghetti straps.

“Listen to me right now,” Delilah said through clenched teeth. She spoke softly, but her voice clearly carried a big stick. “You’re drunk, and the last two times I’ve seen you drunk at a party, you ended up sucking a cock or five.”

“You’re one to talk,” Daphne grumbled, but wisely avoided working the word hell into her response.

“Look, honey,” Delilah continued in a kinder, gentler tone. “I know it sounds ridiculous coming from me. But your father and I love each other. I leveled with him, and he supported me. He helped me find those five musicians, and he watched me blow them all, too. He even told the other four to step aside so the trombone player could fuck my tits! Can you imagine?”

Daphne saw the faraway look in her mother’s eyes and knew she was in danger of getting lost in her memories, which happened from time to time. Although this particular memory was from, what, two or three weeks ago?

“Gee, Mother, that really is a sign of true love.”

“It is, and I’ll choose to ignore your sarcasm,” Delilah countered. “But I’m worried for you because you’re still young. You invited that Tommy Culligan boy to my birthday party, and it looks like you dropped him as soon as you picked up your first drink.”

Damn, where was Tommy? Daphne had left him to go powder her nose in the washroom, then she had swung by the bar and grabbed another martini, then… let’s see… oh yes, some lecherous old coot who reeked of rum had tried ensnaring her in some dreadful conversation while sneaking a peek at her chest every three seconds, and then her mother had bundled her into this back room for a lecture.

“I should go find him,” Daphne said quickly.

“Don’t worry,” Delilah assured her. “I sent Julia to find him before I came and rescued you from Judge O’Malley.”

“Ugh, that rummy old whiskbroom is a judge? He must be ninety years old!”

“You may be right; I believe he came over from Ireland as a boy during the potato famine.”

“What a lech. He couldn’t stop staring at my tits. Why is he at your birthday party, anyway?”

Delilah sighed. “Honey, you surely must have noticed that the people with whom we socialize aren’t precisely our friends; there’s a whole web of politicians and judges and commissioners and…” She waved her hand in the air to indicate and so on. “They invite us to their parties because your father is a very influential man. We invite them to our parties to keep the relationship reciprocal. And on it goes.”

“Is Father really that important?”

“Your father has that certain something that appeals to people from all walks of life. Because he’s a professor, he’s taken seriously by people who value education and status. But because he can explain things in practical terms, he’s respected by people who think college professors are ineffectual eggheads.”

“Ineffectual intellectuals, I see. Is that why Father goes by Mister Davenport instead of Doctor Davenport? To seem like a regular fellow?”

“Yes, precisely. A doctoral degree was a requirement to open certain doors, but once he achieved it he never flaunted it. He knows that it gets people’s hackles up when a doctor shares his opinion in a policy meeting.”

Delilah nodded. “He’s a clever guy.”

“He certainly is. And he’s my guy,” Delilah giggled. “Well, our guy, at least until you make up with Tommy Culligan and you two run off and live happily ever after.”

“Mother!”

Delilah shrugged and turned her eyes skyward with an enigmatic smile. You never know.

Daphne noticed the martini glass still in her hand and set it down on a side table.

“Are you feeling better now, honey?” Delilah asked. “Sobering up?”

“Is that why you’ve been talking my ear off all this time?” Daphne laughed. “I think so. That was quite a slap you gave me; is my cheek still red?”

“With the way you girls paint, no one would ever notice,” Delilah observed.

“Oh, ha ha.”

“Just remember, honey,” Delilah gripped Daphne’s hand and looked her in the eye. “We all have to make sacrifices to get by in this world. Every parent hopes that their children’s sacrifices will be smaller than their own. You’ve been very fortunate in life thus far, but at some point you’ll need to make some hard choices in order to get what you want. And you might start by choosing to not drink any more liquor tonight.”

Daphne nodded. “Message received. I’ll stick to ginger ale for the rest of the night.”

“I love you, honey.” Delilah released Daphne’s hand and hugged her daughter to her capacious bosom.

“I love you too, Mother,” Daphne said in a muffled voice. Lifting her head, she added “I hope I didn’t spoil your birthday party.”

“Oh no, not at all. Maybe I needed to be reminded that I still have a child who needs mothering.”

“Yes, or smothering,” Daphne commented with a wry smile. “I can only imagine how excited that trombone player must have been.”

“You have no idea,” Delilah laughed. “He couldn’t contain himself. Oh, that reminds me; I may need your help getting everyone to leave at the end of the party. I have a special musical number I’m going to perform for your father and nobody else.”

Daphne raised one eyebrow in disbelief. “Sure, Mother, nobody else. It didn’t escape my attention that you hired the same band from St. Patrick’s Day.” She smiled impishly. “Maybe I’ll ask the trombone player for the lowdown.”

“All right, you caught me,” Delilah giggled. “There is going to be a special encore after the musical performance. But will you help me clear the room when the party’s over?”

“Yes, of course. And Tommy is going to drop me at home before he takes Julia home. Well, he was going to…”

“Then I guess you’d better go find him and make sure.”

“Yep, I’d better get a wiggle on.” Daphne headed for the door, then turned as something occurred to her. “Hold on. You said Father watched you blow the entire band. Are we not saying french anymore?”

“Go!”

Daphne re-entered the main room and soon found Julia and Tommy seated at a small table. Julia, Daphne’s best friend, had long, wavy red hair and piercing green eyes. She was wearing a sleeveless sage green dress that accentuated her firm, succulent breasts. Tommy was a tall young man with hair that was a lighter shade of red than his cousin’s. He wore a dark suit and a darker expression on his face. When he saw Daphne approaching, Tommy began to stand up.

“Oh, Tommy, you don’t have to get up!” Daphne called.

“No, I feel like I should go,” Tommy declared, avoiding direct eye contact.

Daphne looked to Julia for help; Julia motioned towards Tommy. Fix this.

“Tommy, please don’t go,” Daphne pleaded. “If I’ve made a mess of things, I want to set them right.”

Tommy looked at the ceiling, exhaled, then looked Daphne in the eye. “Look, Daphne,” he began. “I thought we were keen on each other when we first met, but maybe you’re just a good-time girl and it didn’t mean anything to you. I don’t know.”

Daphne fought back tears. “Please, Tommy, can we sit?”

Tommy nodded and held out a chair for Daphne, who accepted it graciously. As Tommy sat, Julia spoke up. “Want me to make myself scarce?”

“No, I want you to hear this, too.” Daphne gathered herself and went on. “I’ve been getting tanked at these parties. I didn’t notice because I was having a good time and I wanted to keep the good times rolling. The 1920s are one endless party, gin and jazz, right? But I think the liquor is part of why I’ve been throwing myself at every guy I see—”

Tommy scowled and placed his hands on the table, about to push himself up, but Daphne put her hand on his.

“Wait, no, I didn’t mean that. I had a wonderful time talking to you, I really did. And then what did I do? I blew it, literally, with you and your brothers.”

Julia’s ears perked up at this. His brothers?

Daphne went on. “I’ve spent this past year getting blotto and messing around with different guys, and I never thought twice about it because…” Daphne bowed her head and placed her hands in her lap. “Because I never really liked any of the guys until I met you.”

Julia opened her eyes wide to get Tommy’s attention and jerked her head sideways in Daphne’s direction. “Say something!” she mouthed.

Tommy cleared his throat. “Thank you for telling me. When I said what I said, it wasn’t because of, um, what we did…” He trailed off. “Are you sure you want Julia to hear all this?”

“Yes, it’s fine.” Daphne raised her head. “Jules, I blew all five of them. Tommy and his brothers. I know we usually tell each other everything, but it felt strange afterwards because they’re your cousins and I didn’t know how you’d react.”

Julia laughed out loud. “Jesus, Daph! I can’t believe you’ve been keeping this a secret all this time!” She turned to Tommy and continued. “Daph told me about you, big dog, but she failed to mention the others.” She turned back to Daphne. “Denny? Marty?” she asked incredulously.

Daphne nodded slightly.

“Joey and Jimmy?”

Daphne shot Julia a look.

“Okay, okay, I’ll lay off. But jeez, I can’t believe I sat through Easter dinner yesterday and none of those perverts breathed a word of it.”

Tommy spoke up. “That’s because I told them I’d knock their blocks off if they spilled the beans. They know how I feel about—” He stopped abruptly.

Julia took both their hands. “All right, you two. Let’s figure this thing out. Tommy, what did you mean when you said that thing about ‘I said what I said’?” Julia knitted her brow as she parsed her last sentence in her head.

“What I said was ‘I think I love you, Daphne Davenport.’”

Julia put her hand to her mouth, pretending to be shocked. “Well! And what did you have to say to that, Miss Davenport?”

“I said that I kinda like him, too.”

Julia tilted her head. “Not the most ringing endorsement, but understandable, I think, if you were caught off guard. Now, it seems to me that you two could try meeting each other halfway. Daph, you can stop getting zozzled and being such a party girl, and Tommy, you can stop being such a wet blanket.”

Tommy laughed. “Oh, I’m a wet blanket, Miss Goody Two-Shoes?”

Daphne’s jaw dropped. “Holy smokes, Jules, he thinks you’re a Goody Two-Shoes? That’s rich!”

“Daph, pipe down! I’ve only ever necked with six or seven guys!” Julia knit her brow again and started going through a mental checklist.

“Sure, and you had just finished blowing two of them in the back alley before Tommy saw us in the ballroom,” Daphne laughed.

“Hang on, Daph, you keep saying blow; are we not saying french anymore?”

“No, Mother has started saying blow and I kinda like the sound of it.”

Tommy broke in. “Wait, you talk about this with your mother?”

Julia started laughing. “Oh, Tommy, you slay me. Have you not met Daphne’s mother?”

“Well, briefly, of course,” Tommy replied, mildly annoyed that he wasn’t in on the joke. “This is her party, after all.”

“Ugh, Jules, I forgot to tell you!” Daphne interjected. “My mother was in the room while I was blowing them all, hiding behind a goddamned chair!”

Tears started streaming down Julia’s cheeks. “Oh. My. Word!” she gasped while holding her sides and howling with laughter. “Stop, you’ll give me a stitch!”

Tommy’s eyes bugged out and his ears reddened. “Your mother watched all that?” he demanded.

“I don’t think she was watching; she’s not that loony,” Daphne explained. “But she certainly heard everything like it was a radio play.”

Tommy blinked theatrically and shook his head to clear the imaginary cobwebs. “Well, this conversation has taken a strange turn,” he chuckled. “Cousin Julia, well, well, well.” He paused. “I just had a thought. Daphne, how many fellas have you necked with after me?”

“After you? None.”

Julia frowned as she dried her eyes with a napkin. “Are we not counting the four perverts?”

Daphne hopped onto Tommy’s train of thought. “Jules, Tommy was the last one to join in; I’d finished with his brothers before he got involved.” She raised her left hand and placed her right hand on her heart. “I solemnly swear that I’ve never touched another guy since I blew Thomas P. Culligan.”

“How do you know my middle initial?” Tommy wondered aloud.

“Lucky guess. Is your middle name Patrick?”

Julia scoffed. “What else would it be? But let’s not get distracted.” She cleared her throat and adopted a pompous air. “We are in agreement that the right honorable Thomas Patrick Culligan was the last man to receive the special attention of Miss Daphne Sylvia Davenport on the night of March seventeenth, and no subsequent special attention has been bestowed upon any other individual.”

Both Tommy and Daphne nodded slowly.

Julia dropped her courtroom act and switched to her gangster bit. “Okay, so all them other guys are in your rear view mirror. Deep six those bums and don’t look back. Capiche?”

“That sounds all right to me,” Tommy ventured.

“Tommy, I’m sorry—” Daphne began.

“No, I’m sorry,” Tommy interrupted. “I should have talked to you first instead of getting cross. I should have known you wouldn’t have invited me tonight unless you really wanted me here.”

“I did get sidetracked at the bar, and I’m sorry for that,” Daphne admitted. “But then that ghastly Judge O’Malley cornered me and then Mother pulled me aside—”

Julia snorted. “Judge O’Malley, huh? That creep. Did he look at your tits the whole time?”

“Ab-so-lute-ly!” Daphne laughed.

“Well, you can’t blame the old goat,” Tommy offered with a small smile. “They’re really great tits.”

Julia turned on her Southern belle accent. “Why, Tommy Culligan, aren’t you fresh, talking about a lady like that!”

Tommy laughed. “Look, Daphne, I don’t want you to change who you are. I like your spunk. We’ve known each other for just a couple of weeks, and I want us to continue getting to know each other.”

Daphne looked at Tommy. “I’d like that, too.” She smiled hopefully. “So are we square?”

Tommy smiled. “Sure we are.”

“All right, you two lovebirds,” Julia interjected. “I’m going to go try to find somebody under the age of thirty in this joint. Maybe put an eighth notch in my garter belt before the night’s over.” She stood up and blew each of them a kiss.

“Oh, Jules, Mother asked me to help get everyone out of here when the party’s over. Then Tommy can drive us home?” Daphne added uncertainly.

“Of course,” Tommy replied. “I can be your hired muscle.”

“Better than hiring him for his brains,” Julia quipped, then twirled away into the crowd.

Tommy watched her go. “Jeez, where did you find that dame?” he laughed.

“Sacred Heart Academy for Wayward Girls. You know, I don’t think any of us messed around while we were still in school; we were too afraid of being expelled. ‘Moral turpitude’ was the phrase they used. But once we graduated…”

“Boy crazy?”

“And how. I think blowing guys was everyone’s post-grad project last summer.”

“And that’s all, blowing?”

“Sure, for me and Jules, anyway. There is no way I’m going to get knocked up at age nineteen.”

“Well, that’s smart,” Tommy agreed. After a brief pause, he continued. “But, you know, I could return the favor without any danger of that.”

“Return the—” Daphne repeated.

“You did me last time, now I’ll do you?” Tommy raised his eyebrows invitingly, then stood up and extended his hand. 

Daphne imitated Julia’s Southern belle routine. “Why, Tommy Culligan! You watch your filthy mouth!” She took his hand and stood facing him.

Tommy leaned in and whispered in Daphne’s ear. “I’m going to use my filthy mouth on your pretty pussy and make you cum.”

Daphne felt a hot flash pulse through her body. “I—I’ve never cum before,” she faltered.

Tommy pulled back to look at her face. “Are you pulling my leg?”

“No, honest. I’ve been to second base plenty but never let a fella steal third.”

“Well, Daphne Davenport, I’m fixing to try it.”

“All right, Tommy Culligan, or should I say Ty Cobb?” Daphne countered as she regained her usual sass. “You’re on. Let’s find someplace private, just you and I. Three’s a crowd.” She decided that adding “and so is six” wouldn’t sound as funny out loud as it did in her head.

“Well, I think Julia’s right; we may be the only people here under thirty. Everyone else is positively ancient. I think if we grabbed a third person, they’d crumble into dust like a mummy.”

“The curse of the pharaoh,” Daphne intoned in a spooky voice. “You know, this place has individual washrooms down the hallway. With locks on the doors,” she added significantly. “Let’s each take a different route and meet there.”

Tommy gave her hands a small squeeze and released them. “I’ll see you in two minutes,” he said with a sly grin.

Two minutes and five seconds later, they were locked in a washroom, kissing roughly and running their hands over each other’s bodies. Daphne hiked up the bottom of her dress to expose her bloomers, which were soaked in the crotch. Tommy grasped the lower hem and slid them down her long, smooth legs, exposing her triangle of wispy black hair. Daphne stepped out of them and stood with her feet apart, feeling the cool air on her wet pussy. Tommy circled his right arm around Daphne’s waist, below her bunched-up skirt, then placed his left hand on Daphne’s bush and slid it downwards, running his middle finger along the fold between her outer lips. Daphne gasped and leaned back against the wall; it was cold porcelain subway tiles, but she didn’t notice anything besides the heat radiating from her pussy. Tommy kissed her neck lightly as he slid his three fingers up and down, then wormed his middle finger into Daphne’s tight, wet cunt.

“Jesus, Tommy,” Daphne breathed. She leaned forward and kissed him again. “Don’t stop.”

Tommy pulled his finger out slightly to lubricate her outer lips, then he finger-fucked her for a minute before sliding a second finger inside. Daphne put her head on his shoulder and moaned into the fabric of his jacket. Tommy continued his slow in and out motion with his left hand while cupping her naked ass with his right hand.

After another minute or two, Tommy pulled back and withdrew his fingers, holding them up so they glistened under the bare electric light bulb that dangled from the ceiling. Daphne stared, transfixed by the sight of her viscous secretions on his hand. She took his wrist in her hand and guided it towards her nose so she could smell her pussy up close. She inhaled deeply and then tentatively licked one of his gooey fingers. After taking a second to register the taste, she smiled wickedly and sucked both fingers into her mouth.

“That is so sweet, Tommy,” she cooed. “You really ought to try it for yourself.” He moved to kiss her but she held up a finger to stop him. “You need to try it straight from the source,” she teased.

The washroom sink was fitted into a wooden cabinet with just enough counter space on the side for a young lady’s bare ass. Tommy placed both hands on Daphne’s waist and hoisted her so that she was sitting on the countertop with her trim quim exposed to the room. He crouched in front of her, eyeing her inverted triangle and the pink lips pouting beneath it.

“I was right.”

“About?”

“You have a very pretty pussy.”

Daphne blushed.

Starting low, Tommy ran his tongue up the length of her labia, then looked up at Daphne while licking his lips.

“And you weren’t kidding! It’s as sweet as honey,” he confirmed.

“Maybe I’ll ask Mother to stop calling me ‘honey’ and you can call me that instead,” Daphne mused.

Unsure how to respond to that, Tommy buried his face between Daphne’s legs and worked his tongue inside her steamy cunt, tongue-fucking her while she clutched his hair and squealed and groaned above him. After a couple of minutes, he retreated and ran his tongue vertically up her labia again, until—

“Oh, fuck!”

As Tommy lapped at Daphne’s swollen clit, her vision swam and the room seemed to throb and pulsate, the rectangular tiles undulating all along the walls.

“Oh, oh, fuck! Do not stop. Do not stop!” Daphne demanded. Her nipples were standing at attention beneath her dress, caressed by the satin lining. She felt a heat rising throughout her body and knew she was close to experiencing the first orgasm of her life.

Tommy kept up his lingual lashing and slid his two fingers inside once more, pumping them at an ever-increasing tempo. And then—

“Oh! Oh! Oh!” Daphne screamed out with each wave that radiated through her body. Tommy stood and continued rubbing her clit with his thumb while locking his mouth onto hers in a passionate, sticky kiss. “Mmm! Mmm! Mmm!” Daphne hummed against his lips each time her tight cunt clenched his thrusting fingers.

As her orgasm subsided, Daphne exhaled a long breath and leaned her head back against the mirror. “My goodness,” she said finally. “That was something else.”

“Not bad?”

“Not bad at all. I think you may have found your calling, T.C.”

“It’s T.C. now?”

“Ty Cobb,” Daphne teased, then became serious. “T.C., I’d like to do you again.”

“Do me? Now? You know you don’t have to—”

“Yes, now. I want to. That was a real corker, and I’m all revved up. I want to suck your cock.”

“Oh yeah?” Tommy pretended to argue.

“Yeah. I want to suck your cock until you shoot your cum right down my throat, straight into my stomach,” Daphne challenged him. “No more dirty champagne glasses,” she added, rolling her eyes.

“Well, if you’re sure,” Tommy grinned as he began unbuttoning his pants.

Daphne hopped off the countertop and they swapped places, with Tommy leaning back against the sink. Daphne pulled down his pants and his drawers, revealing his mouth-watering cock. Placing her hands against his thighs, she sank her velvety lips over the fat purple head of his raging hard-on, savoring the heat and musky smell of his cock and balls. Tommy groaned and ran his fingers through her raven hair. After finding her rhythm bobbing her head up and down on his stiff dick, Daphne kept one hand on his thigh and began tugging at his jangling balls with the other. Tommy grunted in appreciation and stroked the back of her head as it pistoned on his throbbing shaft.

Daphne pulled off and started pumping his cock with her hand. After tonguing his balls for a moment, she batted her eyelashes coyly and inquired, “Are you ready to cum for me, baby?”

“Sure, doll. Would you yank on my balls again?”

“Anything for you, T.C.,” she said with a dazzling smile before slipping his straining cock back into her humid mouth. She attacked it with the intensity of a pile driver, pounding it into her beautiful face while stretching his ballsack down, down as far as it would go. Tommy’s hips began bucking and she gave his balls a final twist.

“Daaaamn!” he roared as a torrent of cum sluiced out of his balls, through his spasming cock, and into Daphne’s eager mouth. She gulped down the sweet and salty jism as she continued pumping her head up and down on his dick, thrilled that they were sharing this intimate connection. She had sucked a lot of dicks before his—probably a dozen?—but lucky number 13 was the first one to make her feel this giddy. Knowing that she had lost herself in pleasure to him, and he had lost himself to her, made this moment more special than any she had known.

When the tsunami of sperm had subsided, Daphne held Tommy’s slick prick as it softened. A final drop of cum seeped out and she flicked at it with her tongue. “Yum,” she commented as she ran her tongue along her teeth. She gave his dick a small kiss and released it, standing up and smiling at him.

“Was it good?” Tommy asked with a laugh.

Daphne rubbed her stomach and giggled “I’ve got yummy cummy in my tummy!” Catching sight of her reflection in the mirror, she pulled a face. “Jeepers, I’ll need to reapply my lipstick before we leave. Jules will spot that in a second.”

“And your mother, I presume?”

“Oh, most definitely,” Daphne snickered. “She knows all the tricks.”

“Well, let me steal one last kiss before I slip out. I’ll try to find Julia and make sure she isn’t doing something stupid, like blowing Judge O’Malley.”

“Ugh, talk about the curse of the pharaoh! Nobody wants his dusty, crusty, fusty, musty, rusty—”

“I’m just kidding—”

“—scummy, gummy, rummy mummy cum in her tummy, you dummy!” Daphne finished with a laugh.