Themes: mast, lez, ws, light scat
This in an offshoot project from the Margey Household chronicles. Some of the characters are the same, some new. Read the other stories in the series (Books 1-11) to find out the full background or some of it won’t make any sense.
Warning: The events and characters in this story are imaginary. If you attempt to duplicate them in real life, you will end up sharing a jail cell with a big fat man called Bubba
Chapter 12-2 Boxroom – with benefits
by Stack of Books
(1885 words)
Our evening meals at Non Pee Stain Farm were full of fun and laughter, even though tonight we were eating – but for free!! – beef casserole for the third and chicken biryani for the fourth night in a row. No-one minded in the slightest. To get the same quality food from a takeaway or in a restaurant would have burnt a severe hole in the pocket. For Margey and I, our Empty Nest Syndrome Blues had completely dissipated.
Sandy was trying clearly to educate Ally in the ways of sassiness, but the latter was having none of it. She had her own style and a distinctive sense of humour. Lyn and Sven were a bit quieter and more reserved, but still contributed considerably. Our topics varied greatly, not just previous sexual experiences and fantasies, but all the normal stuff too: current affairs, books, music, films, entertainment, etc.
Sven seemed to have a lot on on his plate as both sisters visited him separately. Not long after we saw Sandy creep in there too. Eventually they became foursomes and I wondered how his balls produced enough spunk to satisfy them all. I’m not sure if I could have matched him for stamina when I was his age. Perhaps they make the men in Sweden different.
Back at the BSB ranch, the girls were trying to branch out into another cuisine just for diversification purposes, and tried their hand at a few basic Chinese dishes. However, after a big (but polite and friendly, no sass) thumbs down/nil points on a taste test from Sandy, they gave up. Sandy said her parents would be willing to train one of them (FOC) for a week, but their order book was so full, they couldn’t give any of the trio time off. So they put that idea on a back burner for a while and just stuck with what they had: Indian, Mexican and traditional.
Turns out Lynette knew how to make a very good French Onion Soup with cheesy croutons, and that was always a big hit, even at Indian-only menu events. She must have made hundreds of gallons of the stuff while with BSB, and improved the recipe incrementally each time.
Even better, Dean had taught her while she was staying at his house (when he wasn’t fucking her!) how to make tiramisu without breaking the bank on ingredients, along with tips on how to scale it up to 50-100 people. So they had the first dessert they could offer, and for a small event 2 days later for 10 people she made two batches of 8 portions each. Scoffed up! Of course Bindi had allowed for that in her invoice – no money lost, rather higher profit.
Martin was very good at costings, and always presented Bindi with a per-portion cost price for each dish they offered the client, based on the weight of ingredients used in the recipe. From that, she could add her mark up for labour and profit and fixed costs/overheads, then give her customer an invoice figure per head. Pretty simple to do in Excel once you set it up.
To complement Lyn’s dessert, Ally found you could buy pre-made deep fill family-sized shortcrust pastry cases in foil dishes, frozen, in bulk. Thaw them, fill them with various flavours of pie fillings (apple, apple & blackberry, apple & rhubarb, black cherry, tropical) from big catering sizes of cans, cover them with pre-frozen pre-rolled thawed puff pastry for the tops, cut and crimp, bake them. Easy-peasy, lemon-squeezy. (Even Martin could do that. He used the pastry offcuts to make cheese straws for their breaktime.) The time to make a batch of 10 pies, enough for 40-50 people was quick, and the cost of ingredients much less than BSB Catering actually charged for them. OK, they weren’t strictly “home-made” but for Bindi and her two cohorts, they never actually published or advertised or promoted that about their food, so didn’t feel they were hoodwinking anyone. If asked, they just said everything was produced in their home kitchen by their own hands – read into that what you will.
The two snoring and spanked sisters were by this point fairly full time, but they both had a few other commitments. They didn’t realise for a long while that they were the only ones receiving wages. The others were still not drawing a salary. As long as they were eating, had the roof of a beautiful and comfortable Indian-style house over their head, and Martin’s sexual services, the BSB trio were happy (but tired a lot of the time). Every now and again when Mr Marten junior was not available (like on his college nights, or visiting his parents at weekends so they knew he was still alive), Dean & Serena came round to spice up their biryani and enchilada pussies, for want of a better way of expressing it.
Like before, our bathroom was again like the main railway station of a capital city, and everyone came in and out to do what they needed to do without batting an eyelid. The only time it was locked and private was for pooping, but that only applied to Sven and me because, even with the extraction fan full on, our emission odours were just not tolerable.
The three lodging girls all peed and pooped in front of me on many occasions, (no hissers! Damn!!) prolonging it and giving me a good show of wiping their pussies and shit-encrusted arseholes.
One time Sven came in just as I lopped my dick out of my running shorts for a pee, and he did the same. Admittedly, we both had a bit of stage fright at first, but eventually got going. He held mine, and me his, and we crossed streams a few times. His circumcised dick with bright red glans looked really nice, and I remembered when it was plunging into the pink depths of Margey’s chocolate brown pussy on his first day here. He finished first and did the usual shake and squeeze routine, then I followed suit on my own one. I got a bit carried away and rubbed the shaft very hard and then spunked an incredible amount (much more than usual) into the bowl. His wanking technique on his cut one was different to mine, closer to Franny’s gay friend, Jonas. His ejaculate volume was more than twice I had produced, and there were 8-9 big spurts – not too much surprise as he was a lot younger than me.
I asked him if he had any gay tendencies or previous gay experiences, and he said definitely no, but it was fun and interesting to masturbate in front of someone he knew and trusted.
Not long after Lynette moved into her boxroom, I stepped into the shower one day and realised I had forgotten to pee beforehand. She came in as I approached the WC, and asked to hold and direct it. She’d obviously never had the experience of shaking and squeezing it out of all the drips (I don’t think John’s sessions with her included these finer points). She asked me to undress her to join me under the suds, so I took her glasses off and tied up her hair with the band on her wrist. (I have a lot of experience of handling girls’ hair as all 4 of Margey’s brood had completely different types. Beth’s short do was the easiest with just a few strokes of a hair brush needed as she seemed to have no idea that implement could be used on her head. She thought it was just for masturbating and breaking her hymen with.)
Lyn gave me such a sweet smile as I pulled her lovely and delicious smelling blonde hair away from her very pretty face. Rolling Stones T-shirt, red lacy bra, short grey skirt, knee-length socks and Teletubbies knickers came off in that order, as slowly as I dared. I knelt down and put my face in her pussy and motorboated it with a ‘Brrr’. Her crack was wet and I could smell her arousal.
We got in and she took the bar soap (not really a shower gel kind of man), and did all my body, including pits, bumcrack and feet, including between toes. Then onto my meat and two veg, gentle with the testicles, stronger with the shaft.
She whispered: now clean me up please, take your time if you know what I mean, then fuck my cunt – hard. I’ve never done anal, but would like to try today.
Her tits and pussy were a joy to attend to – she preferred liquid soap and a sponge, but I used my hands and fingers to probe her. I also – but with a warning – tried her anus with my soaped middle digit but it seemed too tight.
We always keep KY in the bathroom, so I switched the water off (it’s water soluble by design), pushed some up her cunt hole and she gasped in orgasm right there and then. I eased my hard tool into her as she bent over and I twisted the tuning knobs on her tits. My tip hit her cervix, my balls hit her labia majora and I pumped a few times. Lubed up her arsehole, but could only manage 3-4 inches before her screams alerted me to abort mission. Another candidate for butt plugs, and I promised to get her Suze’s ones out of the box in the basement. I went back to her willing quim and we orgasmed together.
The next day, I took my shower at a different time and Ally was waiting for me wanting the same double hole treatment. I think Sven had already broken her in rectum-wise, so it was easier than her sis.
Then fuck me, Sandy came along the day after. I was never sure if it was a conspiracy or just coincidence. But we only washed each other, and then agreed that mutual masturbation didn’t break the terms of our pact. Scout’s honour, dib-dib-dib and all that, honest guv, nothing else happened. Margey didn’t mind what we did to each other – she just had Sandy’s best interests at heart, and felt it better from a psychological and emotional point of view that she found her own hard cock, and not mine. As usual, she was 100% right. Always listen to your moody Mexican bitch with big tits, even if you are a tall bespectacled Big Bird.
On the fourth day, I was half expecting Sven to join me, but thankfully I was released from that dire fate. Thank the gods for small mercies!!
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