Double Team
Chapter 228
“Da mihi castitatem et continentiam, sed noli modo.”
(Make me chaste and pure, but not yet.)
—St. Augustine, Confessiones, VIII, 7
LIVY THOUGHT SHE’D WAKE ME UP by rushing into the bedroom at six. What she found was Rachel and me near another climax. I give my tall thin wife credit that she didn’t interrupt until she heard the gasps that indicated we’d made it. Then she slid into bed with us and held us tightly.
“How did you get here so early?” I asked. “Did you leave at four?”
“No. I left after our briefing last night for the meet next week. I got here about eleven but Nanette attacked me before I got past the second floor and told me I couldn’t have you till morning. She made the delay worthwhile.”
“And now what?” Rachel asked stretching. “Are you crawling in to join us?”
“No. I’m stealing away my running partner. Nanette is waiting by the door,” Livy said. “Go get ready, Jacob. I’ll comfort our lover for her loss.” I rolled reluctantly out of bed and headed for the bathroom as Livy lowered the covers from Rachel’s beautiful body and petted her as they kissed. If I didn’t hurry up, they’d be too involved to go running in a couple of minutes.
We put in a 10k that Nanette and I could keep up with. It was nowhere near the pace that Livy raced at. Her time in a race was pushing the thirty minute mark. She’d already qualified for Team USA and was competing in a four-country invitational in LA next week. Her competition would include the world record holder from Ethiopia.
After our run, Nanette begged off joining us for a shower and was scooped up by Emily for some aftercare. Livy and I found the master bath refreshed with towels and the bed with clean sheets. I needed to kiss Rachel again for that. Livy and I stepped into the shower and each other’s arms.
“How are you holding up with all the stress of training full time?” I asked.
“About the same as you,” she laughed. “When we chose to participate in these special National Service Occupations, we didn’t realize we were choosing the hardest jobs in the service. I’m still glad we did, though. Look at the opportunity I have!” I finished rinsing the conditioner from her hair and slid my hands down her lean frame to her butt. “You have to stay out of the pooper today. I’m too close to a race to risk soreness, injury, or loss of control.”
“You know, I love to make love with you in any way I can,” I said.
“Well, if you can point that thing down a little farther, you’ll find a warm welcoming place for it,” she said. She leaned forward and rose on tiptoes while I slotted my cock in her pussy from behind. Then she sank back onto me with a sigh. “I always come back from a run horny,” she whispered. “There just aren’t many people in camp that I’m willing to fuck in the shower.”
“But there are some,” I laughed.
“Well, yeah. But I like this one best.” It was clear, though, that neither of us was going to reach a climax in the shower, just because we were too relaxed and chatty. We liked spending some time like this, but were ready to dry off and hit the bed.
“How’s school going?” I asked. While Livy’s main occupation was running, that simply couldn’t be done all the time. The service required a minimum load of college classes or trade training for occupations that weren’t full time.
“Good. I have an interesting class this term on social justice. I can’t believe how far behind we still are in this country. Did you know that twenty-five percent of the prisoners in the world are in America? We have so far to go. Add a plank on prison reform to your party.”
“Damn it! No. I can’t do that. But that doesn’t mean we can’t still have a movement toward prison reform. I’ll do some investigating and talk to Congressman Travis when I meet with him in Houston.” I made a mental note to ask Amanda to get me information as I kissed my way down Livy’s flat stomach to her puffy pudenda.
“Texas would be a good place to start. It has one of the highest incarceration rates of people serving or eligible for National Service. Over twenty percent of our three million in prison are between eighteen and twenty-one. Oh, God! Yes! Lick my clitty!” That was the end of our conversation on social justice.
After her first, Livy flipped over on her hands and knees and I pushed into her from behind. Of my eleven wives, Livy was the only one who seemed to prefer this position, though Dana also liked it. I don’t know why I thought of her. She wasn’t one of my wives. Of course, Livy usually liked me to get her off in this position and then slide up to her asshole, which wasn’t going to happen this time. Instead, I just kept plunging into her from behind as she manipulated her own clit to two more screaming orgasms before I filled her with mine.
Saturday wasn’t just filled with a lot of sex, though all through the house the family frequently brushed against each other, petted, and kissed each other. We were getting ready to scatter the next day. Donna, Nanette, Cindy, and I were flying to Houston. Rachel and Livy would be on their way to Los Angeles for a week. Joan and Beca had talked about using a few days to consult with Joan’s father, Ray, in Chicago. Desi, Brittany, and Sophie would be in rehearsals. Emily would be tied to a desk making sure the logistics of moving three deputation teams around the country and having all their travel, equipment, lodging, and venues set up and ready to go for each performance.
We needed to pack. For some reason, we needed to have spa treatments, haircuts, manicures, pedicures, and any other cures we could think of. Oh! That massage! We had the rare treat of all going out to dinner together at an Indian restaurant on D Street. Emily, of course, had been the one to make reservations early in the week. It was the fourth of February and we’d all be scattered around on the fourteenth, so we decided to make this our Valentine’s Day treat.
The food was good, the company was loving. And I was approached a dozen times by influential Reformist Party members. I didn’t realize the restaurant was so popular with them. After a long relaxing meal, we each grabbed a handful of fennel seeds and headed home.
The idea of twelve people piled in a single bed might scream orgy to some minds. What it really means is a hopeless tangle of bodies lying partially on top of each other and partially hanging off the bed while we tried desperately to get one more touch of each of our lovers. Oh, there were kisses and pets and gropes, no doubt. There might have been one or two orgasms, besides mine. It was rather unexpected, shooting up Desi’s back as she rocked her butt that cradled my cock.
We weren’t comfortable sleeping that way. But no one was willing to let go of the person they held to find a more comfortable place to sleep. We stumbled out of bed early, some of us falling out. We crushed each other in the master shower, more interested in sliding against our lovers and collecting little kisses than in the necessary shampoo and conditioner. Eventually, we all managed to find the clothes we’d laid out for the day and went to the kitchen for breakfast.
We gathered all our suitcases and instruments at the front door. Donna, Nanette, Cindy, and I went down the line of our wives and made sure each had been kissed thoroughly. Then we loaded in the van that arrived for us and went to the airport for the start of our next concert tour.
Houston was a pleasant change from the cold damp of Washington, DC. It was only in the mid-sixties, but that felt like spring to us. Our driver and official mini bus met us at the curb and drove us over to the Hampton Suites in downtown Houston. He said it was downtown, but as we drove, he pointed out the towers of four other major business centers in the massive city.
“Lucky you came in on Sunday. This time Monday, this is an eight-lane parking lot,” he said. “In order to make your first performance at ten tomorrow, I’ll be picking you up at eight.”
Houston has a dozen schools with over three thousand students, meaning graduating classes of about eight hundred. We were going to try to play an hour-long concert/presentation at each of them in five days. Then, on Friday night, we’d play a two-hour concert at the home of the symphony, with a second performance as a matinee on Saturday. Then we’d fly to San Antonio while our bus driver made the long haul in our bus with the instruments.
First, there was settling into our room with two queen beds at the Hampton. We were all pretty tired after the almost sleepless night before, so we agreed some nap time was in order before we tried to find food. I stripped off my clothes and fell back on one of the beds, asleep almost before my head hit the pillow.
Wake up blow jobs are always a treat. And don’t think I don’t give as well as get. My wives have made it clear that just because my appendage sticks out and is easy to reach it’s not the only one that likes wake up attention. Even if I just give a breast a little loving attention as a wake up call to one of my wives, she’ll cradle my head against her chest and sigh, if not start to become so aroused she wants a full-on playtime. And if I can manage to get beneath the sheets, move her legs apart, and begin a light tongue bath of her privates, she’s likely to wake up in the throes of orgasm. And need to run and pee really badly!
But there was no question that Cindy wanted more than just to give me a little pleasant motivation to wake up. She wanted me to have a hard cock she could use and didn’t care if I was awake or not. As soon as I was stiff, she threw her leg over my waist and guided my cock into her seventeen-year-old pussy with a squeak and a long sigh.
I grinned up at my youngest wife as she began her ride to glory. She noticed my gaze when I started playing with her breasts.
“Oh, yeah. I got licked a lot this week. I licked a lot of pussies. But sometimes a girl just needs her husband’s cock!” she said as she posted up and down. In addition to the incredible feeling of her wet pussy on my cock, the visual stimulation was perfection. The tactile stimulation was mind-altering.
Cindy has extremely well-developed abs. Like Desi, singers and wind instrument players develop incredible breath control through the diaphragm. When Cindy gets on top of me, I can see those muscles at work as she tries every movement possible to stimulate her pussy and her clit on me. She is not a simple up and down girl, but twists, turns, clenches, and ripples.
And above those incredible abs, her breasts protrude in perfect, almost unmovable cones with nipples that seem to glow when she gets flushed with sexual excitement. She’s bigger than Beca in the bust, but not as developed as Brittany. Of course, Livy, Nanette, and Sophie win the itty-bitty-titty title because they have almost no body fat. Yeah. Rachel and Emily are probably closest in size to Cindy. Then, scaling up, there’s Donna, Joan, and Desiree. The thing is that when I see the flush of excitement spread down Cindy’s chest, I know that her sensitivity starts to spike as well. Light finger tracing of her breasts and nipples sends shudders through her body and she begins lifting her arms to give better access.
That’s when Cindy’s head seems to almost detach itself from her body. She swings it back and forth, flopping side to side as the vocals begin to intensify toward the amazing shriek that accompanies one of Cindy’s freefalling orgasms. To listen to her speak in her tiny voice, you would never imagine she had such volume inside her.
“Ahhhahahhhahhhaaahh!” she screamed as she slammed herself down on me to maximum depth and let go. Her pussy clenched almost painfully on my cock, preventing me from climbing the slope to my own orgasm. “My butt! My butt!” she shouted as she dislodged my cock from her pussy and got on her hands and knees. I had no objections to that and was still rock hard as I positioned myself behind her and sank into her bottom hole in one long slow thrust.
Both Desi and Livy enjoyed anal play as a part of sex—especially if I could take them around the world in a single session. But Cindy was nearly obsessed with it. She would just as often choose anal penetration as vaginal. And to be planted in her butt from behind with those round globes of her ass pressing back against my groin and my hands free to roam her back and reach beneath to grab her tiddies, the position was one of my favorites. I plunged into her as her vocals started at the level of her previous orgasm and crescendoed from there into an ear-splitting, inhuman screech that must have sent every living thing within a hundred yards into hiding. And this time when she came, I had no difficulty thrusting into her slick bottom and filling it with my come.
I collapsed forward on her back and rolled us to our side, softening to slip slowly out of her ass.
There were giggles from the next bed. Donna and Nanette were spooned together watching us.
“I never imagined myself a voyeur,” Nanette said. “But watching you enjoy each other is something I’d do every day.”
“It usually makes me want to jump in and join,” Donna said, “but having my loving Nanette holding me while we watched gave me such feelings of love that I was overwhelmed. Both for sweet Nan and for the two of you.”
“Mmm. I won’t try to take all Jacob’s time on this tour, but I really needed that,” Cindy sighed. “And I love you, Donna. I love you, Nanette. I want to be held in your arms, too.”
“Three weeks with only four of us should give us plenty of time to do that.”
We had to account for basic exhaustion, too. Every night was certainly not going to be filled with screaming orgasms. We played two high schools on Monday, three on Tuesday and Thursday, two on Wednesday and Friday. Then, Friday night, we had a full two-hour concert at Jones Hall, home of the Houston Symphony. We played a matinee at Jones Hall on Saturday because the orchestra had a performance scheduled that night. Both were full houses in the nearly 3,000-seat auditorium.
Before the Saturday matinee, I got a visit from Congressman Travis, the Speaker of the House.
“Congressman, it is such an honor to have you visit us while we’re in town. I’m afraid our performance schedule hasn’t left much time for any pleasantries.”
“Oh, the honor is mine, Jacob. I just flew in from DC this morning so I could be at your last Houston performance. Things are pretty heated in congress at the moment.”
“I can imagine. I don’t want to distract you from that.”
“The reform bill is moving forward. Of course, every point needs to be debated and everyone wants to be involved, so it will come out of committee next week and the Rules Committee has approved it for open debate on the floor of the House. I don’t think there will be any further amendments offered. Oh, there will be some pork barrel suggestions, but they’ll be voted down quickly enough. It’s the other things the debate has revealed that are of concern,” he said.
“What are those, sir?”
“Jacob, a special prosecutor has been named to investigate the bombing of the convention center and the potential for terrorist attacks on Congress. With Rob Nelson and Paul Peterson in custody, having admitted to placing the bombs, there is a lot of pressure to find out who put them up to it. Peterson is little help, other than having named Nelson as the boss. He believed they were setting up an elaborate training exercise for the SSR so they would be able to test their response to a terrorist incident. It hasn’t yet occurred to him that he was the terrorist incident.”
“So, you think it was all Nelson?” I asked. “That just doesn’t seem right.”
“That’s why the special prosecutor. No one thinks Nelson has either a motive or a mission on his own. He’s getting direction from someone. We thought initially it was all coming from General Gerhardt. But he was in custody long before the attack on the convention could have been planned.”
“RSI,” I said. “It has to be coming from them. They’ve been buying influence for a decade or more in the way of getting a hold on the major agribusinesses.” I thought a moment. “Damn! We’ve never investigated what other businesses they’ve invested in. We found out they were a major investor in the company that is supposed to be providing shelter and services to National Service personnel in the fields. I’m betting it goes deeper than that. Amanda, search for Sun Logistics and any other government contracts the company has.”
“Who’s Amanda?” Travis asked looking around the dressing room. I pointed to the little pile of shit.
“She’s essentially an extremely capable search engine developed by Design Intelligence. She was given to me to test as I was on tour this fall. Very helpful.”
“Jacob, Sun Logistics has contracts in thirty-one states to operate prisons,” Amanda said.
“That fast? She came up with a number like that?” Travis asked.
“In all likelihood, she’d already done the search before I asked. Her big advantage over standard search engines is the ability to extrapolate future searches from previous ones without suggesting sales on merchandise I’ve already bought.” I didn’t mention that Amanda was aware of our conversation and had already put that into her search base as well. Or that she was capable of initiating her own searches and bringing them to my attention.
“Amazing.”
“The point is that their involvement in that industry shows that the National Service isn’t the only place where they are involved in incarceration for profit. Some place along the line, the party should check to see if there is a correlation between them and the 700,000 service-age people who are currently incarcerated in state prisons for various reasons. Including the number here in Texas.”
“You’ve hit a sore point,” Travis said. “I’ll keep that one away from party politics and see if I can get a coalition started to deal with prison reform. But if you are saying this conglomerate owns a company profiting from imprisoning American citizens, as well as monopolizing a significant part of our food chain, we have a huge problem.” I just nodded my agreement. A huge problem. “Well, I know you need to get ready to perform. I’d like to be in my seat as well. If there is anything your little genius there uncovers that would help the special prosecutor, please be sure to let us know.”
“Thank you, Congressman. I hope you enjoy the show.”
“And watch your back, Jacob. The things you have uncovered speak of a business worth trillions. They won’t go without a fight.”
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