The Maneater's Plaything

The women around them broke into laughter and the group whistled. Michael watched breathlessly, tight lipped, blazing eyed, with perspiration trickling down his forehead.

Mark and Julia howled in each other's ears. The young man shot. His hot semen leapt and leapt, his penis drilling and firing, amidst his aunt's trembling flesh. And she came apart in his arms, huffing and puffing, her fluid pouring over his cock and running down over his balls. She was still demanding his love and he was still promising to give it to her.

They slowly ran their fingers through each other's damp hair. Then they kissed, their tongues sliding in deep.

"Remember your promise to me Mark," Aunty Julia whispered in his ear, still holding him in her arms, while she fought to recover her breath.

"Yes, Aunty Julia. I love you. You're my girl. You're my girlfriend now."

"Good Mark," Julia whispered, starting to catch her breath. "Good, and you're my boyfriend."

Julia held Mark against her and gazed in the direction of the crackling fire. She kissed his scalp. She looked up again at the flames and her eyes narrowed and a smile of satisfaction curled at the corner of her lips.

The company had planned for the boy to enjoy six different women on his weekend away. They had paid the six women a large amount of money to make Mark's yacht party a great success. That plan, however, was scrapped and so the company wasted a vast amount of money on five of the female guests onboard.

Julia sincerely apologized to the five ladies. They said they understood. Julia wasn't going to budge. The women didn't really mind anyway. The five ladies sat around on the deck in the brilliant sun, drank expensive champagne and ate their own weight in seafood.

Mark and his mother's sister vanished from sight. Michael was dismissed. Julia took Mark's hand in hers. They then disappeared down the winding stairs to the lower levels of the yacht. They then locked themselves into the master cabin for the rest of the weekend.

Michael could hear them at it behind closed doors. Michael could hear them at it day and night. Julia and Mark never stopped.

Julia's husband was charged with preparing their meals. He carried the gleaming silver tray carefully downstairs, along the corridor, towards the master cabin at the very end of the passageway. He could hear them at it as he walked. He could hear the boy's groans and whines increase in volume as he approached on his tippy toes. He could hear his wife's warm laughter and coaxing words as he placed the tray of food outside their door. He could hear her cries and screams.

Michael couldn't help himself. He could never help himself. He stood there for hours outside their cabin door. He got all red faced and breathless. His beautiful domineering wife made the boy cum and cum and cum and cum.

********

PART THREE - VIPERS

Bette was in the middle of a phone call with her private investigator Richard when the young man came inside her.

She was naked, lying stretched out on her back, on an outdoor lounge chair, on her balcony. Her robe was open, her legs were wide and her mobile phone was pressed to her ear when the gorgeous young man on top of her reached his third and final orgasm of the day.

The young man lost control of his hips. He drove his cock in hard and deep. He ground against Bette and squirted every remaining drop he had left. Bette sighed contentedly as the power of his orgasm caused the outdoor lounge to rattle and shudder. His roars satisfied her ego.

"That's the way – good boy," Bette whispered in the young man's ear.

"Oh mommy," the young man whispered.

"Yes - c'mon darling boy."

"Bette, who are you talking to," Richard asked. "What's going on there?"

"Yes, I see," Bette said picking up the phone conversation again, an arm around the shaking groaning male above her. "And you have photos of them together?"

"Yes, and they have a place in the city together."

"A love nest of sorts."

"Yes, that's what my enquiries suggest. What's going on there Bette," Richard asked, hearing the guy's soft laughter.

"I'm having sex with a young man. He's just finishing up as we speak - aren't you darling, yes, you're a good boy, aren't you."

Richard laughed softly.

"Same old Bette – you'll never change."

"Of course not darling - I'll be enjoying a young man on my very last day on earth. I'll still be fucking a young man on my death bed Richard."

Richard laughed again.

The exhausted young man lay down on Bette carefully. He pressed his hot face into her neck. She kissed the top of his head and cradled him in her arms.

"Look I have to run Bette. I'll email you all the details – photos, film and documents so you can examine them."

"Good, Richard – you do that."

Bette hung up on Richard. She threw the phone on the table.

"Julia, you bitch. How dare you do this to me? Well I'm going to put a stop to this, that's for sure. I won't let you get your way."

Bette suddenly wanted the young man to leave. She felt angry. She felt uncomfortably hot and she wanted to dive into her pool and wash the sweat and semen from her sticky body. Then she had to deal with this latest family drama. She had given the young man what he craved again and again, now it was time for him to go. He had his fill of mommy love.

15 minutes later Bette was leading the young man through the house to the front door. She had pulled on her tiny silver bikini and her matching stiletto high heels. Her filmy robe rolled and fluttered open as she walked. She sipped from a glass of scotch. She dragged on a cigarette. She kissed the young man deeply and passionately at the front door and then slammed the door in his face.

Bette was being watched from another room. A beautiful silver haired woman in her sixties watched disapprovingly, a glass of wine in her hand and cigarette in an ashtray. She was well dressed with light blue eyes and full lips. She was Bette's mother.

"What a harlot," Bette's mother Madeleine stated with amusement, watching Bette kissing the young man at the front door, "Such an indecent display. It was never like that in my day. I had decorum. I had culture."

"You old hypocrite – your bedroom had an escalator on it, back in the dark ages," Bette returned, after slamming the front door shut, her temper rising quickly. "You had a line of young males coming in and out at all hours. You were a complete floozy mother."

"That is a damned lie Bette. I had style and grace."

"You're just jealous mother – I'm still getting laid and you haven't had a young man in years."

"Don't kid yourself Bette. I get my share of young males, as you well know. You're not the only hot mommy in town."

"See, you are a floozy Madeleine," Bette said smugly.

Madeleine was about to say something, but Bette cut her off.

"Look Richard just called. He's found Mark. That bitch Julia has her claws in him. They are living in some tawdry love nest in the city. Richard has photos and film clip of the two of them together. My poor darling! I'm going to kill that succubus!"

"What, that succubus has found another victim. How could you let Julia get her hands on my grandson?"

"How is this my fault, mother?"

Madeleine was about to say something, but Bette cut her off.

"I can fix this. I'm going to confront them mother," Bette said. She then rushed off towards the phone. "I also need a fucking swim."

"Oh brother," Madeleine whispered.

She stood up and followed her daughter through the house and out onto the back patio. She sat down.

Madeleine watched the thin wisps of smoke drift towards the ceiling in vague curls. She picked up her cigarette from the ashtray, placed the end of the holder between her lips and drew back. She exhaled. She closed her eyes. She re-opened her eyes.

Bette paced back and forth – a cigarette in one hand and a glass of scotch in the other. Her high heels clicked on the hard tile floor and her hips swung from side to side as she strode from one end of the patio to the other. She stewed. She vomited a stream of invective.

"Can you please try and calm down Bette," Madeleine said, her eyes fixed on the spiraling smoke again. "You're annoying the shit out of me darling."

"Don't, just don't mother," Bette threatened, glaring at Madeleine. "Just don't start."

Madeleine sighed and tapped her cigarette – a long pile of ash dropped into the tray. She regarded her daughter for a moment – Bette really was shameless and so dramatic. It was a ridiculous situation and Madeleine was tempted to laugh at her daughter as she paced about, and grew more hysterical and enraged by the moment.

It was 9am in the morning and Bette was wearing her tiny two piece silver bikini, her matching high heels and her sheer white robe. She really was dressed like a shameless floozy, Madeleine thought. Who wore a tiny silver bikini and caked their face with make up at 9am in the morning?

"Where is your young personal trainer darling," Madeleine asked Bette, her eyes sparkling. "Shouldn't you be in the middle of another hard training session in the bedroom?"

Bette stopped abruptly. She wheeled about and confronted her mother.

"Mother, I'm in the middle of a family drama, a terrible disaster and as usual you're not helping at all."

"Oh darling – really; it's not that bad, is it?"

"Not that bad! How could that old bastard do this to me," Bette announced dramatically, running her fingers through her short blonde hair. She violently stubbed out her cigarette in the ashtray.

Madeleine burst out laughing. It was a sweet delicate sound. Bette waited patiently – she stared daggers at her mother.

"Oh my God darling," Madeleine finally said, "what do you expect – your father had a mind of his own. He often did things which made no sense. He did things to stir people up."

"He's an old bastard."

"Of course he was – a terrible conniving old bastard without a shred of decency or decorum."

"He did this just to spite me."

Madeleine laughed again. Bette began pacing once more, her voice grew shrill.

"How could that old bastard leave his controlling interest in Mark's hands? Mark's just 18 and has almost no business experience."

"My grandson's a smart young man."

"Oh mother, I know Mark is smart. He's my son. But he's not ready to run the family business and hold so much power and control in his hands."

"Yes, well I know differently," Madeleine said defiantly.

"I couldn't believe it," Bette said, spitting venom, ignoring Madeleine. "I sat there like a fool as father's will was read - that bastard of a lawyer smiled at me when he announced that father had given Mark the controlling interest in the company."

"Yes, that was an amusing moment," Madeleine said, grinning. "I think I'll get a drink as well to celebrate."

"And now my darling boy is in the clutches of that calculating bitch. Do you think that's amusing mother?"

Madeleine grew gloomy. She shook her head slowly. She stubbed her cigarette out.

"Mark my words mother. Julia wants to gain control of the company for herself. How can my baby fight my sister off? She wants to control my baby!"

"Well, how was your father able to fight Erin and Gina off?"

"He didn't. He was having the time off his life with those two tramps, until he died from the over-exertion!"

"Yes," Madeleine said, shaking her head, "silly old coot, but he was after those two for years and there was no speaking reason to him. God knows I tried. And I'm sure Mark is having the time of his life as well Bette."

"Father should have given me control of the company. He said he would. He said he amended his will in my favor. Mark's far too young and now that demon succubus has my son under her control."

"I definitely need a drink now," Madeleine muttered.

Madeleine stood up.

"I'm getting a drink Bette. Do you want another?"

"Yes, get me another one mother," Bette said, handing Madeleine an empty glass.

Madeleine entered the house. She walked past a mirror and took a moment to look at herself. She turned this way and that and admired her reflection. It was a vain moment.

"Not bad for 68."

She stepped closer to the mirror. She studied her beautifully groomed silver hair, her striking icy blue eyes, her lightly tanned skin, her long limbs and her exquisite curves.

"Sexy old bitch," Madeleine whispered and grinned.

Madeleine grew pensive and thoughtful. She turned away from the mirror and approached the open bar. She picked up two fresh glasses, dropped ice cubes in and then poured two large scotch whiskeys.

She wondered at her late husband Warren's motivations and sanity for a moment. Madeleine did believe in her grandson Mark, but she had to admit that her daughter Bette was right – there was no way Mark was going to be able to direct the families enormous business and oversee all of the families investments.

What was Warren's thinking? Why would he hand so much responsibility over to someone so young and inexperienced? What was Warren up to?

Bette appeared to be right about the other matter as well. Her elder daughter Julia, the succubus definitely had her claws in Mark and there was no way he was going to fight her off. Very few men could fight her off – Madeleine's husband certainly hadn't been able to. The succubus had been Warren's mistress. Julia had been her father's lover until he lured her two children, his granddaughter's into bed, and sealed his doom.

Madeleine sighed as she carried the drinks back out onto the balcony. The whole family was full of soft weak stupid men and domineering vixen females, she thought. Poor Mark. Was he destined to become a plaything for his aunt, his mother and his cousins, because Warren had made Mark his heir?

"Such a sick twisted family."

Warren really could be a fool at times, Madeleine thought as she handed a drink to her daughter.

Julia had stalked her father relentlessly. Julia had behaved like a complete harlot. She was a thorn in her mother Madeleine's side as soon as she turned 18. The succubus had manipulated and seduced Warren. She succeeded in diverting Warren and luring her father into bed with her smile, her gorgeous body, and her crude promises.

Now Julia had latched onto young Mark. She got her hooks in him and refused to let him go. Julia went right after the 18 year old, as soon as Mark was rewarded with majority control of the family business. Mark and Julia were sharing an apartment together in midtown and causing a scandal. The succubus was still married to another man. It was shameless.

"What are we going to do," Madeleine asked, after drinking.

"I'm going to put a stop to it, of course," Bette said. "I have invited the two of them to lunch."

"Really – the bitch agreed?"

"Yes, the two of them are both coming here today."

"I see and you think you can talk Mark around?"

"Yes, I'm going to fight that succubus off. I'm going to scratch her eyes out!"

Madeleine watched as Bette began pacing up and down the balcony again. Her daughter's filmy robe fluttered and rolled in the mid morning breeze. The robe opened to reveal Bette's beautiful body. Bette was gorgeous at 41. She was lightly tanned like her mother and she had the same broad hips, narrow waist and large breasts.

Madeleine softly bit her bottom lip. A thought occurred to her.

For a moment Madeleine believed she had gained an insight into her late husband's motivations. She quickly dismissed the thought as ludicrous. Warren was a pervert and a calculating egoist, but Madeleine couldn't believe her husband would orchestrate something so dark and twisted. Warren loved Mark and surely wanted the best for him.

Madeleine's grandson wasn't a pervert. Warren was a pervert and Julia was a pervert, but darling Mark wasn't one. Warren surely didn't give Mark control of his company for a dark and twisted reason - surely not?

"What is it mother," Bette asked, noticing the thoughtful expression on Madeleine's features.

"Oh nothing," Madeleine replied. "I'm just crazy."

Bette considered her mother for a moment and then strode inside the house in search of her mobile phone.

Bette was a real bitch, Madeleine thought without any malice. Bette was just like Julia in many ways. Both women were obviously attractive. Both were self-centered and vain. Both women were adept at manipulating men and using men to get what they wanted. Both women were obsessed with money and luxuries. Both women had a reputation for being good in bed.

Poor Mark, Madeleine thought, did your treacherous and perverted grandfather just set you up to be torn apart by all the family harpies? Did he do it deliberately Mark, knowing all the dark perverse pleasures in store for you?

How long would it be before Erin and Gina infiltrated Mark's life and lured him into bed? And even Bette? How long would it be before Bette got into the seduction game? How could Mark resist his own mother? These women would stop at nothing to get their hands on Mark's wealth.

"I should take you to bed myself Mark," Madeleine whispered, "just to protect you, of course."

Madeleine gasped. She shook her head.

"Such a sick twisted family."

********

Julia was ready for the fight. She felt confident, in control and calm. She felt rested, healthy and focused. She wasn't going to lose her temper and she wasn't going to get emotional or upset. She was determined to maintain her icy exterior and her perfect appearance.

Julia was dressed in a tight sexy power suit. The skirt was too short and the seams were at breaking point. Her long legs looked glossy and provocative in her lace top stockings. Her feet looked snug and sexy in her dark high heels. Her jacket was undone and her blouse was open. The tops of her breasts and her lace bra were on display. Her long blonde hair was tied back in a neat ponytail and her glasses were perched on the end of her nose. She had her sexy school principal look down pat. She looked perfect.

The woman Julia was going to battle with possessed a formidable reputation. Her sister Bette was a beautiful wealthy matriarch, used to getting her own way and believing her viewpoint was the correct one on every occasion. Bette ran her side of the family with an iron fist. Bette was constantly trying to get her grubby hands on the family's vast purse strings. Julia expected her sister to play dirty and she was prepared – it came with the territory.

The battle lines were drawn – Bette's gorgeous naive son was the precious thing to be fought over. The two women were ready to scratch each other's eyes out for control of that gorgeous naive prize. Julia sat in the back of the limousine, her arm around that precious thing - her 18 year old nephew Mark, as the car pulled into the drive and cruised towards the house.

She possessively ran her hand up Mark's thigh and placed it on his cock as the house came into sight in the distance. The young man sighed and closed his eyes. Julia turned to Mark and studied him. She noted the dark bruises on his neck. His slim sensitive body was peppered with her hard love bites.

Julia placed her other hand on the back of Mark's head. She then leant in and kissed Mark on the lips, pushing her pink tongue deep inside his soft mouth. The young man sighed again. Julia went right after him, gently pushing him back against the car seat. She rubbed his cock slowly and deliberately as her lips and tongue rolled and slipped. The young man just melted, his head spinning, as she devoured him.

Julia broke the kiss and ran her fingers through Mark's hair. She smiled at his red features. She felt his hot breath caressing her face, steaming up her glasses.

"Do you like it when I tickle your cock through your pants Mark?"

"Yes, I love it Aunty Julia," Mark replied softly, under his girlfriend's spell.