“Give Scott my gamer tag.”

Frankie lay prone while playing her new gaming console, and swept the carpet in a scissors motion with her legs. All that covered her was a snug white tee that was barely a few inches past her bum. Whenever her legs came together, the tee fell into her crack, highlighting two freshly baked buns ready for a proper stuffing.

“What is that again?” Bill went to sit on his favourite couch to watch her play since nothing else was on. “And will you please, put on some clothes? Start putting away the ice-pick after using it while we’re at it.”

“Why? I’m comfortable.” She continued eliminating on-screen foes with firepower that boomed through the Dolby Surround system.

“I’m not. Your mother won’t be either when she comes downstairs. Put on some clothes.”

“What? You can’t control your urges, Billy boy?” The team death-match just ended and she peeked over her shoulder, wiggling her ass.

“Will you keep your voice down?” Bill whispered. “Suppose your mother hears you?”

“Don’t worry about what the gamer tag is. I’ll text it to you, you text it to him.” She emptied her palms of the gaming control, refilled them with her phone, sent the text, and then reversed those actions.

“Did you even hear what I said about putting away the ice-pi–?” Bill’s cell buzzed on the neighbouring cushion and he unlocked it. After a sigh, he forwarded her message to Scott and added, “That’s Frankie; my step-daughter.”

Footfalls lit their auditory senses as Amanda came downstairs with a grimace and tightly folded fists that were leading the way as if operating a Gatling gun.

“Guys, that was my girlfriend Deidre,” Amanda said, standing by the television now, “and she just told me about doing a girl’s trip tomorrow with her and some other girls from the book club.”

“Mom, you should totally do it.” Frankie heel slapped her buttocks in a rhythm similar to that of a military march. Amanda stared.

“Mom?”

“Oh sorry, honey. It’s just; I remember when my ass used to look like that.” She pointed at the buns being dented one after the other. Left, right, left.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, you’ve got a great ass.” Bill did an A-Okay sign and winked with a wry smile.

“Eww, don’t talk about my mother’s butt.”

“Hey, don’t you guys start now,” Amanda interrupted.

“No worries, she’s fine,” said Bill. “I’d miss you though, especially now that I’m on vacation and all.”

“I know, I know and it’s so sudden. I’d have to pack and… ugh.”

“Don’t listen to him, mom. When’s the last time you really got away?”

Amanda mouthed, ‘I don’t know’ and shrugged.

“Exactly. Do it. Come on, live a little.”

“I’ll… I’ll think about it. Gonna go and get ready to meet up with Deidre.”

Amanda hustled out of the living room and back upstairs. Silence then held the room in captivity until Frankie stood up and sauntered towards Bill – standing directly before him.

“Why are you so close?” He sunk into the couch further.

“Convince her to go.”

“What?”

“I said, convince her to go.”

“Why?” Bill leaned forward, resting his forearms on his thighs.

“Because,” Frankie said, jabbing his forehead with every syllable spoken, “I. Said. So.”

“Kid, how long is this gonna go on?”

“As long as I’m here. Maybe longer.” She shrugged and turned around.

“You’re out of your mind.”

“As long as I feel like.” She bent over for the controller, wiggling her backside which was adorned with pink-lace panties – and a shirt that wouldn’t stop riding up.

“Stop that,” Bill whispered, glancing over at the staircase and then in front.

“He just added me.”

Bill sighed and asked, “Who?”

“Scott. Now, for some fun.”

“Right.” He slouched.

“Convince her.”

 

***

Less than an hour passed before Bill advised his wife to take the trip and unwind.

Less than twenty-four hours passed before she and her girlfriends were on their way to making new memories.

“Treat yourself.”

The words spoken as he held her shoulders were so inspirational, but in reality, it was all about self-preservation. Being alone with Frankie for several days was not a thrilling prospect, but he held no power in the situation and had to obey.

“Convince her.”

The phrase bit and clawed at his brain until he conceded and complied. In the dictionary of his mind, the definition read:

“Do what I say, or I’m going to turn your world upside down, motherfucker.”

The day was long and rest was in order. It couldn’t have been three hours that went by – since he dropped Amanda off at the airport – before he was jolted out of his sleep by his now lone housemate.

“What the hell does she want now? Jesus Christ.”

“I need a ride to the Get it in motel.” She stood bedside, wearing a tight black mini-dress bearing a plunging neckline that came down past her navel.

“Go away, I’m sleeping.” He dropped his head back down.

“Hey.” She shook his shoulder. “I need to get there in an hour.”

Bill pounded the mattress with his fists and sprang to a sitting position.

“Why? Why do you want to leave at,” Bill said then blinked at his watch, “Twelve-twenty-two in the goddamn night?”

“Remember Scott?”

“Oh for God’s sake.”

“You know the deal, Bill. I’m not repeating myself. I’ll be downstairs waiting.” Frankie spun and clopped out of his room in platform heels until she was a vanishing silhouette.

***

On the drive over, Frankie bragged about how she and Scott exchanged numbers along with pictures and videos after a few games. In response, Bill grunted but cracked a smile as their destination came into view.

“Finally.” He parked outside the receptionist’s area and switched off the engine.

“I’ll be right back.” Frankie landed feet first and stood as tall as she sat. In less than two minutes, she was in and out through reception’s fogged glass door and leaning against the passenger window, staring at Bill.

“What now?” he asked then reclined his seat with a scowl.

“Come with me.”

“For?”

“You’ll see.”

“You interrupted my sleep and I intend to get back to it. Now if you’ll excuse me.” Bill closed his eyes and hummed.

“Bill, I already told you I’m not going to keep explaining myself. Get out and come with me.” Frankie walked around the front of the jeep and pointed to rooms on the left before opening more distance. “Come on.”

Her step-father exited the vehicle and lumbered over to a room she just opened. On the inside, the walls and ceiling were wrapped in faded red paint with a queen-sized bed stuck in the middle – headboard fixed to the wall of course. In the corner to the bed’s left had a mini-fridge and several feet south presented a built-in closet.

“What lovely accommodations,” Bill said with outstretched arms. “Now why am I here and not sleeping in my Grand Cherokee, oh sweet step-daughter of mine?”

“Because you’re going to do something for me.” Frankie stepped forward while fiddling with her phone and stopped where the top of her head was just below him.

“Such as…”

She tilted her gaze up, held his hand and clapped her phone into it with a half-smile.

“You, sir, are going to record the action over there.” She pointed to the closet. “Look familiar?”

“Hardee-Har-Har, veerry funny.”

“I’m serious, Bill. He’ll be here any minute; just texted him the room number.”

“God, you are serious.” Bill’s smarmy manner changed to a constriction of disgust.

“Wait; do you even know how to record?”

***

Ten minutes standing in the closet was ten years for him. “What took him so long?” was his thought, staring through the thin aperture he chose to use for his recording, clicking the red circle to start.

“Wow,” Scott said, closing the door behind him. Up and down he leered at his petite lust interest.

“Like?” She spun and pulled a handful of hair high, squinted, and pursed her lips.

“Yes. Yes, fuck I love it, yes.” Scott advanced and pulled her in. Within seconds, their lips and tongues were all over each other’s mouths, cheeks and necks. Frankie’s dress rolled up, exposing an uncovered bum that jiggled upon release.

“She sat in my jeep without underwear? Are you kidding me?

The phone silently vibrated and the notification slid from the top showing the name Dante. When it finished, Bill focused on the action ahead. Scott was kneeling and buried face-first in a standing Frankie’s pubic mound. One of her feet set anchor on the mattress and she pulled him further into her womanhood with a sneer.

“Yes, eat that pussy, Scott. Does your wife’s taste this good?”

“Mmm, fuck no.” He continued smacking against her lower regions.

“That’s right.” She turned her head towards the closet. “Mine is sweeter, isn’t it?”

“Yeth,” he said with his mouth full of cunt.

“Say it.”

He pulled away and said, “Your pussy is sweeter than hers. Fuck her.”

Bill’s eyebrows rose at the latter statement, and he puffed his cheeks while mouthing, ‘Wow.’

She ground him until her abs and obliques flexed. Muffled moans vibrated her loins until her face contorted and she spasmed while repeatedly stuttering, ‘Fuck.’ She stumbled backwards, stepping out of one of her heels, and Bill zoomed in at that very moment – panning out only when she regained balance.

“Take your pants off and lay back by the edge,” Frankie ordered while taking in deep breaths.

Scott did as requested and flexed his cock, awaiting her next play. “I can’t remember when last my wife did this. Such a nag now.”

“Does your wife look you in the eye when she sucks your cock, Scott?” Frankie knelt and crawled towards his parted legs.

“No.”

“Would you like me to? To look into your eyes as I suck your big, thick cock?” She reached her destination and grabbed the base of his pole.

“Yes.”

The corners of her mouth, sides of her nose and her eyes – except the inner corners – were visible past his meat. She slapped it against her tiny visage and Bill’s grin extended the harder she did it. The visual of her bent over, hand slipping between her thighs and handling an organ thicker than her forearm were enough to inundate Bill with thoughts of pursuing a career in adult films.

“Damn, I’d like to jack off, but I better stick to the script.”

Again, the ringing notification appeared at the top of the phone screen with the name Dante.

“Hell is this guy?”

Slow licks at Scott’s reddening glans made it twitch around her tongue as her eyes dimmed to slits.

“I wanna ride it.” She stood, turned, hiked her dress above her tits – not that there was much to hike – and spread her cheeks as she steadily sat on his cock.

“Shiiit.” Scott propped on his elbows and observed her buttocks rolling and squishing against his pelvis. This continued for about a minute until she bounced, grabbed her breasts, and stared at Scott with her jaw hung open.

“Little tramp can ride pretty good.”  Bill rubbed his entrapped hard-on.

Clap, clap, clap, her booty slapped against Scott. Her lover – strained expression and all – assisted her in keeping those cheeks spread.

“I want you doggy.” Scott sprang up, still inside of her, and flipped her onto the bed, stomach first. “I’m gonna fuck you so hard, you little whore.”

“Ooh, baby,” Frankie cooed, “Pull me up to my knees so you can really pound me.” She brushed her strewn tresses over the shoulder furthest from the closet camera. Another lick of the lips as her gaze remained affixed on Bill’s location making him swallow.

“Fuck yeah, I’m gonna give it to you so hard.” Scott pulled her hips towards him, so her ass was up, leaving her body angled in a steep slope. Primal grunts replaced Scott’s linguistic abilities as he slammed into her. Bulging eyeballs and gritted teeth masked his appearance, and all traces of the civilized hunk persona dissipated into thin air.

“That’s it!” Frankie screamed. “Fucking give it to me! Beat this pussy up, oh my God…” She burrowed her face into the mattress and shrieked; bite-sized fists gripping the sheets as the massacre continued. The lust-filled beast standing behind yanked her hair and fucked with more force, making Frankie’s eyes cross and mouth form into a zero.

“I’m cumming.” His voice went up several octaves.

“On my face, baby.”

Frankie’s phone buzzed again, and again Bill ignored it. “Take a hint, will ya, kid?”

Over on the bed, Scott withdrew, flipped her on her back, and climbed up to straddle her chest.

“Does your wife let you cum on her face, Scott?” Frankie asked.

“No.”

“Cover mine, Scott.” Frankie grabbed Scott’s cock with two hands; one around the helmet and the other just below. “Give me what your wife won’t take.” Her mouth opened wide and her tongue stretched out while staring directly at him.

One thick, white rope split her features in half from the hairline to the hook of the nose. Copious amounts of the remaining ejaculate dripped into her gullet and she gagged, then laughed. When the spillage ended, she raised her head, encircled the glans – orally – and grinned as Scott shuddered.

“Jesus, doesn’t his wife fuck him?” Bill zoomed in on Frankie’s cum-covered face for a moment, then moved to Scott’s which was still contorted, nearly drawing out a snicker.

An offer was made to wipe her off, but Frankie wanted to wear it for a while and told Scott that he should leave. Moments later, a fully-clothed Scott was through the door and Frankie remained seated on the bed, facing the closet. She got up, walked towards it, and pulled the door open.

“You can stop recording now,” she said flatly.

Bill stopped it, lowered the phone and she immediately tip-toed and pecked him on the lips.

“Ah, Jesus Christ, Frankie, that’s disgusting.” Bill spit like a sputtering engine and wiped his mouth with his shirt-tail. The semen on her face, no longer rich and white, more resembled gel at that point, but that mattered very little to him.

“Goddamnit. Look, you got a couple of missed calls from some Dante or the other.” Bill shoved the phone into her naked chest and her scowl intensified, throat gulped and jaw tightened when she scanned the display.

“What’s wrong with you now?” Bill wrapped up wiping his mouth clean of her encounter. Frankie held her phone still but moved nothing on it with her thumbs, only stared. Its light illuminated an expression which was now ghost-white – Perhaps whiter than the semen which initially covered it. Bill straightened his posture as Frankie’s slumped and asked a different question.

“Who’s Dante?”