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Thread: The Ballad of Billie and Beege

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    The Ballad of Billie and Beege

    Chapter 1: Beege and Billie

    Beege sat on the wooden stool, watching John Wayne's True Grit on the TV. It was a slow day. Not too many drunks this Friday morning. A large whiskey topped with soda and ice in a tall glass with a slice of lemon, floating on top, was on the wooden deck in front of her.

    Beege ran the liquor store for us. We are the Cutters. She had married into the family. Boon Cutter her husband, my elder brother, had died of a leaky heart valve a few years ago. He drank the cheap stuff, saying it wouldn’t affect profits that way. He kicked the bucket real early. Now Beege stayed with her in laws, my parents, in the house behind the liquor store.

    She was in the store all day, seven days a week. It was a good life. At least from my point of view. She sipped whiskey while she worked. She drank only the best. Laphroaig. Jack Daniels. Ballantine. That way her heart valve wouldn’t burst like Boon’s did. Beege never complained.

    Now you might think Beege was some old bag, the way she drank. Well, you would be wrong. At forty, Beege, my sister-in-law was a pleasantly plump woman, inhabiting that much underrated space between plus size and skinny. Her jugs were the main attraction. Many a barfly had forgotten about the nectar of the gods that they had come to procure and become mesmerized by Beege's jugs. Some of them may even have gone straight and got an actual job, inspired by those jugs. Beege was liquor store baron and alcoholics anonymous rolled into one. You might not believe it, but she was a picture of good health. The skin on her face was clear. The sweet rosacea nose was an adornment on Beege. She moved craters of whiskey and other liquor by herself, so she had nice strong hands and arms like a working mans. And her legs, oh man her legs would make Arnold Schwarzenegger flee the gym on leg day.

    Anyway, Beege was not the only woman on my mind as I drove across the empty roads taking us deeper into the Ozarks. Sleeping beside me was my wife Billie, snoring adorably, her beautiful body calmly rising and settling, rising and settling down in the seat. She was a real peach, my Billie. Yes, sir. Long unruly blonde hair like Sandra Bernhard’s. It was supposed to show that she was some kind of rebel. It always got into my ears and nose when we had sex. And if it wasn’t for her jugs ….. oh boy! What a pair of jugs she had. They rose and settled, rose and settled as if they had a life of their own. The mountains or rather her breasts led down to well exercised wash board abs with the just the perfect amount of flesh around them. The thing about some women into fitness, they take all that protein eating to another level and soon they have abs like an inmate in Folsom State prison. Billie’s was just the perfect abs, a few cuttings here and there but lots of flesh too, so that I wouldn’t feel like I was kissing a cement road when I was licking her navel. And her legs – Jesus Christ! What have I done to deserve such a fortuitous whim of fate? On many a night, when I raised he*l*l in a drunken stupor, Billie would rock me to sleep with her powerful legs locked around my torso.

    Anyway, I am Benjamin Cutter. I am a writer in Hollywood. Broke. Failed. Alcoholic. But as one older writer advised me, this story is not about me. It is about Beege Barnett Cutter, my sister-in-law and Billie Babcock, my wife. I’ll intrude occasionally to keep stirring the pot.

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    Chapter 2: Home

    There were pine trees on either side of the road, but it was cloudy, and it looked like it might rain any moment, so I was relieved to finally get home. I don’t want to bore you with the vegetation and all that literary fiction crap.

    Billie awoke just as I parked the car in the front porch. She stepped out and stretched. She wore a sleeveless neckless top that one would wear on the beach. A tight denim shorts covered her buttocks that were like nice giant rotund buns. If you had em, might as well flaunt em seemed to be Billie’s attitude in such matters. I looked around to see whether some hillibillies were ogling at my Billy from behind the trees. If there were any, I didn’t see them.

    We walked to the door and rang the bell. Archie Cutter, my father opened the door, beer in hand. He smelled of ….. well beer and Love’s Baby Soft perfume. The old man had prepped himself for Billie’s arrival. He must have seen her in the photos that I sent to my mother, Dorothy Cutter, who now came out from the kitchen, dressed in an apron. The competing smells of steak gravy and apple pie came in with my mother, who hugged me and Billie. My father was checking out Billie’s ****. I didn’t mind.

    The exchange of pleasantries was nothing much to write about. Everyone was so happy to finally see each other in the flesh. I went out and bought in a case of Japanese whiskey that I had picked up in Malibu for my father. Some gawdy Indian jewellery for my mother, she liked that kind of stuff. She was into Bollywood.

    Billie seemed to be getting along well with my parents. Anyway, we all sat down to dinner, my father got me and Billie a beer each. That was when Beege came in. She wore this tight green blouse and half pants. I got up and hugged her, she hugged me real tight, her jugs pleasantly pummelling into my chest, the wonderful smell of her whiskey breath enveloping me as she planted a kiss on my lips. We had always gotten along, me and Beege. A bit too well, but more about that later.

    As I sat down, I saw Billie and Beege nod to each other. No hugs there. Then Beege walked up to Billie almost as an afterthought. Billie half sprang up from her chair, but Beege reached her before she could get up completely and they kind of hugged awkwardly, Beege leaning down and Billie half standing up from her chair. Beege galvanized by the whiskey, was more enthusiastic with the hug, running her hands up and down Billie’s sleeveless blouse, right up to her buttocks. In return, Billie reluctantly ran her hand once down Beege’s back. Their jugs met briefly, the bottom of Beege’s jugs resting briefly on the top of Billie’s jugs. But as they disentangled, Beege’s breasts moved close to Billie’s head, barely missing it and I saw a look of wonder spread across my wife’s face. That’s what it was. Wonder. No mistaking it. As Beege walked to her chair, I stole a look at my father. The old man had stopped eating and looked like a whale bone had gotten stuck in his throat.

    Beege sat in her chair and we all began to eat. It had been a long drive from California to the Ozarks, so I happily tucked into the steak, then the apple pie and washed it down with a couple of beers. Any chemistry between my widowed sister-in-law and wife would have to wait.

    Dinner over, the old man retired to bed and my mother switched on the TV to watch an old series, which I had never heard of.

    “Let me show you guys to your room”, said Beege taking control over the affairs.

    It was a two storied house. Mother and father slept in the bedroom downstairs. There were two bedrooms on the first floor. Obviously Beege was in one and straight across the corridor was the room where me and Billie would sleep.

    “Let’s discuss things tomorrow, allright? I’ll let you guys sleep now”, said Beege authoritatively.

    “Sure thing, Beege”, I said. Billie just nodded. The ladies sort of glanced at each other as if they were seizing each other up. A mutual examination. But Beege was drunk and me and Billie were tired after the long drive.

    We retreated to our bedrooms.

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    Chapter 3: The Arrangement

    My trip to my parents’ home, the one where I grew up as a child was not without a purpose. Don’t worry, I am not going to bore you with some ghosts of the past Boo Radley stuff. Nothing is going to come tumbling out of the closets except some old whiskey I had stored around the house in case I ever came back. Hahaha!

    There was an arrangement between me and Beege. Well, it goes like this. The liquor store belonged to both me and Boon, my long-lost brother. Now Beege, as his wife, had a fifty percent share in it and the house. I had fallen behind on rent in Malibu, so Beege had invited me back to the Ozarks. She said me and her could run the liquor store together. Well, I was all for the idea. But then there was Billie. I couldn’t just give her up, could I? Me and her had been together for five years now. She had stood by me through thick and thin, mostly thin. I told Beege that Billy would come along with me. She would help Beege at the liquor store and I would work on my script. Surprisingly, Beege agreed.

    Now there was some history between Beege and me. As my brother Boon, had slipped down that slippery slope of alcoholism, that us Ozark men are famous for, Beege had turned to me for some comfort on one of my rare trips home. No, I hadn’t slept with my brother’s wife. I have some principles, even though I’m just a drunk like my father and brother. But we had exchanged some whiskey kisses and she had let me fondle those gorgeous mammaries of hers. That was as far as my carnal knowledge of my brother’s wife went.

    Billie knew about my encounters with Beege. I had told her. She knew everything about me. She didn’t seem to mind. Not that she had much of a choice. She was a failed actress, thirty-nine years old and stuck with me.

    Now was Beege’s invitation to share the liquor store and the rest of the Cutter property, a trap to ensnare me? If it was, I was flattered. Did she want to anoint me as her new husband? I mean, it was a perfect match. She needed a partner. I was heir to the rest of the property.

    Not that I had any intention to let my Billie go heart broken. I loved her. I wasn’t some cruel piece of s*h*i*t. I would turn forty next year. Sure, I was broke, but I was also wanted by two buxomly women. Even if Beege won me over, Billie could sue my *** and she would get my share. Boy, the three of us were locked together. I am sure Beege knew this. So did Billie. We were adults after all.

    I knew Billie was into women. I wasn’t sure about Beege. Was there some way Billie and Beege would hook up? I had some ideas. The possibilities seemed endless to me. Lord, it got my johnson hard thinking about the situation I was in.

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    Chapter 4: Billie

    Billie woke up early the next morning and worked up a nice sweat with ten rounds of push ups, squats and spot running. She took a shower while Benjamin was still in bed. After washing the sweat off her body, she checked herself in the bathroom mirror. She still had it at thirty-nine. The breasts did not sag an inch, they looked like two fresh pink jammies with cherries on top. Sure, her abs weren’t washboard, but what the ****, men liked some flesh. Her legs were well exercised, endowed with sinewy muscle as well as fat as if a sculptor had worked carefully on them.

    Billie had no illusions about the situation she was in. As far as she was concerned, Beege was out to steal her husband. She had turned up for the battle. It was as simple as that. A sliver of melancholy raced through Billie, but she gulped it down. She was in alien territory; she had never left Malibu before. What the **** was she doing in the Ozarks with a failed writer? About to fight over him with another woman.

    It was hot and muggy even after she had showered, so Billie changed into a bright red sleeveless blouse and a tight black denim shorts. That was all she ever wore in Malibu and that was all she was going to wear in the Ozarks. She was Billie Babcock, granddaughter of Butch Babcock, third senator of Malibu. Yes, she was in a tough spot. But the Babcocks were not deadbeats. She was not about to be vanquished by some woman in the Ozarks.

    She looked over at the bed. Benjamin, the bone of contention, had still not woken up, so she decided to head for the liquor store, her new place of work, by herself.

    The walk from the house to the liquor store, through a large lawn, left her sweating a little. It was not like Malibu. Suddenly, she missed California. The joggers and the smell of the sea. Nobody even offered her breakfast here. She walked hungrily to work like Dobbs in that B Traven novel.

    When she stepped into the liquor store through the open back door, she heard the whirr of an air conditioner. Beege was already in. Billie took a good look at her competition from behind. The tight jeans perfectly outlined the rotund buttocks. She noticed the strong arms which looked like it had done some hard lifting. Beege was a strong fleshy woman like herself. It was going to be a tough fight. Brace yourself, Billie told herself.

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    Chapter 5: Beege

    The alarm penetrated into Beege’s hangover sleep. She jumped out of bed, went down to the kitchen, made a black coffee and came back up to her room with it. The hot coffee thawed some of her hangover.

    Beege performed a few rounds of mountain climbers, lunges and abs. She was hot and sweaty by the end of it. Nothing like a hot coffee and some exercise after a day of heavy drinking.

    She did not waste any more time and showered quickly. A wave of heat enveloped her as she stepped out of the shower. It was going to be a hot day. Beege examined her naked body as she towelled herself in front of the bedroom mirror. Not bad at all. She was in good shape despite all the whiskey she drank every day. The large breasts were taut, and the erect n*i*p*p*l*e*s looked like tiny missiles ready to be launched. She had smooth abs for a thirty-nine-year-old. She threw the towel down and raised her arms in a bodybuilder pose. She was proud of her powerful arms. They were ready for whatever that suburban p*u*s*s*y* from the Midwest had to offer.

    Beege intended to take Benjamin from Billie. It was not going to be easy. That sentimental alcoholic would hold onto his woman. But Beege would smoke her out. Benjamin was one of the few men from the Ozark’s who had pursued his dreams. An educated man who could talk about literature. Not some hillybilly with a gun. Yes, he drank a lot. Everyone from the Ozarks drank a lot. She wanted him for herself.

    She was ready for combat. She needed a man in her life. She was not going to spend her forties alone. No way. The thought of her aloneness made Beege a little sad. She had been alone for too long now. More than five years since Boon had kicked the bucket.

    Beege rubbed her neck and then her groin with some Yardley perfumed talcum powder, a useless exercise in this heat but it would provide respite for some time. Then she slipped into a tight shirt and jeans. Billie was a sexy woman. She could not dress sloppily like some village idiot in front of that hot metropolitan piece of ***.

    She walked to the liquor store and opened up. It was 7:30 am. She left the backdoor open for Billie to walk in. She did not have to wait for too long.

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    Chapter 6: Acrimony

    “You’re in early”, Billie shouted out confidently. The early morning workout had made her feel like she could take on an army.

    Beege turned around. She had on a tight orange shirt, sleeves rolled up, perhaps to show off her powerful arms. The shirt was so tight that her brassiere couldn’t stop the n*i*p*p*l*e*s from jutting out of the shirt fabric. Billie had to admit that Beege was one attractive woman. It was a shame that they were competing with each other. She might have hit on her in less acrimonious circumstances.

    “Well, if it isn’t my new co-worker. Welcome to Cutter’s Beverages, the only government approved liquor store in fifty miles, east, west, south or north from here”, Beege’s tone was laced with sarcasm.

    “Is that so?”, asked Billie, sounding only mildly interested, walking slowly towards Beege.

    “Yeah, this store has been around ever since prohibition ended. It is a treasure of the Ozark’s. There is much goodwill attached to it. It might even be declared some kind of national treasure one of these days”, said Beege, quite seriously, she pushed her hands into the pockets of her jeans and walked towards Billie.

    “I see. A liquor store out in the Ozark’s getting declared a national treasure. A fine testament to American culture and values.”

    Beege looked like she was punched in the face for a moment. Billie smiled to herself. They were off to a nice start.

    “Well, should I show you around the place, then?”, asked Beege, acting like she had not heard the jibe.

    “I am ready”, said Billie.

    “Like your enthusiasm, Kiddo”, Beege snapped.

    Kiddo? Billie decided to let that slide.

    Beege took Billie around the liquor store. Billie could smell the Yardley perfumed talcum powder on Beege. Beege was polite and efficient as she explained the daily functioning of the store. Billie wondered whether her own initial rudeness was warranted, though she knew both were testing the waters. Like two kids at opposite ends of a seesaw.

    Cutter Beverages was a small place. There was the front room with all the alcohol on display and an old TV. A small rest room with a couch. Then they went into a storage room where all the craters of alcohol were kept. There was no way this place was going to be declared a national treasure, thought Billie to herself. She had come all the way to the Ozarks to fight over this. This nothing. Beege seemed to sense her disappointment.

    “Jeez! This place sucks!”, Billie could not contain herself.

    “Well, we are in the middle of nowhere. What did you expect, a gourmet luxury liquor store?”, asked Beege, slightly embarrassed, as if Billie was an ambassador of some foreign country visiting the liquor store.

    “What do I think? It is a dump. Jeez! Why did I even come here? What have I become?”, Billie said with an air of despair.

    “Well, if you don’t like it, you can leave”, said Beege, glad that she had gained an upper hand.

    "Oh yeah? And let you snatch Benjamin for yourself? Move in on your dead husband’s brother? That’s what you want right?", asked Billie coolly, leaning against a crater of Laphroaig.

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    Chapter 7: Mayhem

    The naked truth had been uttered. The fact that they were sexual rivals was thrown out into the open. Leaning coolly against the crater of Laphroaig, Billie oozed sex. She crossed one shapely leg over the other and folded her arms over her breasts, as if signalling to Beege that the next move was hers.

    Beege could do nothing except ogle at Billie for a few moments, taking in this seriously hot piece of ***. She would have a tough time coaxing Benjamin away from this prime minge. There was no denying the fact that she was sexually attracted to this woman who was her rival to be Benjamin’s mating and life partner. As they stared at each other, both women knew that there was sex between them.

    “Well, now that you said it out loud, what can you really do about it? Do you know me and Benjamin have been together?”, asked Beege tauntingly.

    Billie looked aghast.

    “So you two snogged like a couple of teenagers. He groped your jugs. That’s it. He told me about it”, said Billie trying to regain her composure.

    “How can you be so sure? He is a man. Men always lie when it comes to sex”, said Beege. Billie wasn’t leaning against the crater anymore. She had unfolded her hands and was standing upright, her tremendous breasts sticking out, like a cat who had just been stamped on.

    “He has been inside me. He hasn’t been inside you. He is my husband. I know”, said Billie, assertively.

    “Think about it. His johnson has been in both out minges,” said Beege, taking it up a notch.

    Minges? Why was this hillybilly talking like a Chav woman?

    Billie rushed towards Beege and flung her arms around her in an angry bear hug. It surprised Beege. She had expected a slap. A punch. Maybe even a shove. But a bear hug? Now where did that come from?

    Their breasts met for the first time. Billie’s furious visage was in Beege’s face breathing hot fumes like a dragon. Beege’s freed her powerful arms from Billie’s grips and countered with her own bear hug. The women came together like two lovers, hands wrapped tightly around each other’s bodies.

    “You should learn to watch your mouth”, said Billie.

    “You are in my territory honey. You don’t get to dictate what I can and can’t say.”

    Billie’s and Beege’s enormous jugs were molesting each other like King Kong fighting Godzilla. They used their breasts, the most powerful vehicle of their sexuality to dominate each other.

    Beege had one arm around Billie’s neck. With the other hand, she pulled at Billie’s sleeveless red blouse, partially revealing a brassiere strap.

    Billie grabbed the collar of Beege’s orange shirt, and a button popped, and along with it popped out more of Beege’s cleavage and the top of her brassiere. Her other arm was slung tightly across Beege’s waist as if she were relishing the jostling between their breasts and did not ever want to let go.

    The initial mania of the mutual bearhug simmered down to a slow and sensuous rubbing of their breasts and bodies. They held onto each other like two adolescents on their first date. Their sexual rivalry had quickly altered into mutual seduction.

    “We are locked together in the most vital of all struggles, aren’t we, Billie?”, Beege ventured.

    “Yes, the struggle for a mate”, said Billie, not missing a beat.

    “I am not about to spend my forties all alone, Billie”, said Beege.

    “Me neither, Beege”, said Billie.

    Their faces were inches apart as they whispered these challenging truths to each other. Beege could not restrain herself any longer. She ambushed Billie’s mouth, pressing her lips onto Billie’s. Their lips pressed together in a kiss of the most acute severity.

    They let go of each other’s clothes and their hands became involved in the more civilized labour of rubbing each other’s backs. The kissing intensified as they parted their lips and deployed their tongues to escalate the sexual encounter between them. The women were so lost in each other’s breasts, mouths and tongues that neither one heard a customer enter the store. It was only when the customer rapped on the front desk that Beege heard him. She quickly extricated herself from Billie’s grip.

    She hurried into the showroom where a truckdriver stood waiting. Billie followed her.

    “Can a man get some whiskey around here?”, asked the truckdriver irritably.

    “Sure. What would you like?”, asked Beege, pulling a veneer of normalcy and professionalism over her sexually aroused state.

    “Two bottles of Curry Sark”, the man grumbled. He looked like he loved his life.

    Billie who stood behind Beege, saw a rack of Cutty Sark. She took down a couple of them. Beege showed her where the bags were kept. Billie packed the two bottles, Beege billed and sent the man on his way.

    As the door closed, Beege and Billie turned towards each other, ready to resume what they had been forced to stop. Before they could utter a word, Dorothy Cutter came in through the back door with coffee and donuts.

    They wolfed down the donuts, hoping that Dorothy would leave, but she went on a happy rant about how it was nice to have them all under one roof. If only Dorothy knew what jealous machinations and sexual entanglements had been initiated, thought Beege as she drank the coffee. She looked over at Billie who fixed her with a lustful smirk.

    Just when Dorothy was about to leave, three buses carrying Indian tourists arrived outside Cutter's Beverages. Whole Indian families and young Indian couples, apparently on budget trips, probably inspired by that dreadful TV series, streamed into the store. A long queue formed. Realizing that they were understaffed, Dorothy rolled up her sleeves and volunteered to man the till. Beege and Billie began taking orders from the animated tourists.

    Locals - barflies, salesmen, housewives, ordinary folk, teens and truck drivers joined the queue, cursing the tourists, upset that the usually tranquil Cutter’s Beverages had turned into a fish market.

    The Ozarks, a place of retreat for locals was now a melting pot. Beege hoped the queue would not explode into a race riot. She and Billie worked well in tandem, animosities and sexual enchantments buried temporarily in the service of the family business.

    In a show of comradeship, Beege offered Billie a swig of whiskey as they ran from pillar to post. Billie was impressed by this show of solidarity amidst their acrimonious beginning.

    By the time the tourists left, it was close to lunch time. But locals kept walking in, not leaving Beege and Billie a moment with each other. They were reduced to exchanging covetous glances, the whole day. Moreover, Dorothy was in the store with them until closing time.

    When they finally shut shop, the three women walked backed to the house on the lawn. Dorothy, caring Southern elder that she was walked ahead of them to serve dinner.

    Beege and Billie had a moment alone at last.

    "Now that's what I call an auspicious beginning. We sold liquor worth more than $2000 on your first day at work. That's a new high for Cutter’s Beverages ", said Beege. Her tone was that of a bookish statistician reading out a record and not one of a gleeful liquor store baroness who had made a killing.

    "Glad to be of service", said Billie. She kept her tone business-like.

    Beege felt like pouncing on her fleshy feisty rival, wrestling her to the floor and ravaging her. Billie wanted them rolling around on the grass, their trashy mouths locked together. If their relationship was a seesaw, there was sexual jealousy at one end and intense sexual attraction at the other. Both women knew there was unfinished business between them. But this was not the place for it. They walked back to the house and sat down to a harmonious family dinner.

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    Chapter 8: Angry Sex

    "No! I was never in her, Billie. You have my word. I swear on my 1967 first edition signed copy of Charles Williams’ Mix Yourself a Redhead", I pleaded. I wanted to say, no I never shot my load into her Billie, but refrained.

    Billie was furious. She had arraigned and interrogated me like I was Bill Clinton. She paced the room, arms folded.

    She told me all about her tangle with Beege.

    "So ….. you kind of dig her?", I ventured, like some sleazy 8 mm director asking his wife if she would act in a blue movie with his mistress.

    "What do you mean dig her? She is trying to jump into bed with you, my husband."

    I did not press her any further. Things would take their course. The race was to the swift. The better woman would win. If I were lucky, these warring Jezebels would come to some sort of agreement to share me.

    I got up off the bed and poured two gin and tonics. She took off her clothes, revealing her beautiful fleshy body, and we kissed, like we had not kissed in a while. Then she violently pushed me onto the bed. She was in a mood, my Billie.

    Even though I had been drinking all day, my johnson was as hard as an infant banana. Billie leapt on top of me like a hungry cat. She was already wet, and she mounted my tumescence. She went hard on my johnson, as if she was inflicting punishment. I did not have to do anything. I just lay there helpless, like Christ on the cross while my jealous wife used me to relieve her pent-up sexual rage.

    She cried and moaned. Our bodies rocked together as we transmitted waves of pleasure into each other’s bodies through our cojoined sexual organs.

    Later, when we were done and she lay beside me, Billie made a confession.

    "You know Ben, while I was on top of you, I was thinking about Beege. I wished she was with us, the three of us locked together in a triangular sexual union."

    I just nodded innocently as if something like that had never occurred to me in my wildest dreams. A little later, I heard her light snoring.

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    Chapter 9: Territorial Sex

    Beege could hear Benjamin and Billie making furious love in their room down the corridor. Billie was making a real racket, moaning and screaming like a bull in rut. Perhaps it was to make her aware that Benjamin was hers. His johnson was mowing Billie’s minge tonight. It was enveloped by the cavern of her minge, releasing its juices onto his dripping johnson. The animalism of the situation was not lost on Beege.

    Her body longed for the rub of skin against skin. It had been a while since she had known what it was to entwine with another naked human body. She and Billie had come close in the afternoon.

    She, an Ozark woman was letting sexual hunger consume her, doing nothing about it, dousing her raging hormones with alcohol. Nonetheless, she poured a large whiskey and slugged it down. The whiskey gave her some courage. She got off the bed and tore the pyjamas off her body. She checked herself out in the mirror again, with only her panties covering her genitals. There was nothing wrong with her. There just weren’t enough men or women in this godforsaken place to claim her.

    She opened the door and stepped out into the corridor. No sounds came from Billie and Ben’s bedroom. It looked like they were done with their mating. Beege walked slowly across the corridor, she felt like she was an animal out on a hunt. It felt good. A light was switched on in the room. Were they still awake? She was going in no matter what. She tried the door. It was unlocked. She pushed it open and stepped in.

    Ben sat naked at his desk, staring at his laptop. Billie lay naked on the bed, like a spent force. Beege could hear her clear snoring. The smell of gin lingered in the room. They had been drinking and making love. On the floor, she saw Billies clothes – her red sleeveless blouse, denim shorts, brassiere and panties. Even Orrie Hitt could not conjure up a setting as sordid as this. Beege walked slowly towards Ben. Ben had not heard her.

    Beege could see the screen of his laptop. She read the following on it:

    “That hot and torrid summer in the Ozarks, my wife and my sister-in-law wanted to fight and **** each other.”

    Ain’t that the truth you, sly basturd, thought Beege. She put a hand on his shoulder. Her brother-in-law turned around like Demon Pasusu had entered him.

    Beege did not waste any time. She kissed Ben on the mouth. He made a half-hearted protest, but then he was off the chair, faster than a dog thrown his bone. They embraced and Beege felt his erection rub against her thighs. Even though he was a hopeless drunk like his brother, he had a nice body. She pushed him onto the bed and took her panties off, dropping them beside Billie’s clothes. She did not care if Billie woke up.

    As Beege mounted Ben, Billie stirred but did not wake up. Ben’s dick slipped easily into her moist minge. The fact that the same dick had been inside Billie a few minutes ago, lent another dimension to their mating. As she manoeuvred Ben’s dick inside her minge, she glanced at Billie sleeping naked beside them.

    It did not take long for her to come. Years of pent-up sexual frustration steered her to a quick but satisfying o*r*g*a*s*m*. She and Ben indulged in some post-coital embracing, with his dick still ensconced inside her minge. Billie twisted and turned beside them but did not wake up.

    Her mission accomplished, Beege freed Ben’s dick from her control and stepped off the bed. They had not exchanged a word. They looked at each other in the glow of the lamp and Beege placed a soft affectionate kiss on his lips.

    Instead of picking up her own panties off the floor, Beege purposely picked up Billie’s pink-colored panties as a token of victory and walked out of the room. Her own white-colored panties, she left behind. She did not know why. A territorial thing perhaps.

    - - - Updated - - -

    Chapter 10: The Ballad of Billie and Beege

    Billie sensed that something was not right, the moment she woke up the next morning. Ben snored beside her. That was nothing new. But there was a smell in the air. A faint one. She could not place it at first. She got off the bed and walked around the room.

    Then it hit her like a ton of wasted The Beatles musical interludes. Yardley perfumed talcum powder. That was the smell that lingered in the room like a persistent invader.

    Then she saw the panties. A white one. It was not hers. She picked it up and gave it a sniff, like a police dog shown fresh evidence. There was no mistaking it. Beege had been here while she was asleep. She looked towards Ben. No use waking up the philanderer when she knew what the truth was.

    She opened the door and entered the corridor, naked as a new-born baby. It was still early in the morning. She wondered whether Beege would be awake. Well, if she wasn’t, Billie would wake her up.

    She opened the door to Beege’s room and stepped in. As Billie’s eyes adjusted to the dark, she made out Beege’s body. She lay supine on the bed, legs spreadeagled.

    Billie walked towards the bed and stood beside it, admiring her sexual rival’s beautiful body. She ran her fingers across Beege’s breasts circling the ******s with the tips of her fingers, then moving on to her smooth stomach. Beege stirred and moaned but did not wake up.

    Billie climbed onto the bed, placing her knees on either side of Beege’s body. She then lowered her breasts onto Beege’s naked breasts. Their jugs met, naked for the first time. Billie shivered. Billie rubbed her jugs against Beege’s jugs. But all Beege did was twist and turn without really waking up. Billie dropped her breasts onto Beege’s face. That woke her up.

    “Rise and shine, you hillybilly husband snatcher”, said Billie. She could not think of anything else to say.

    Beege’s awareness crystallized.

    “I was expecting you”, said Beege. Billie deployed her n*i*p*p*l*s onto Beege’s face again. Beege bit at Billie’s n*i*p*p*l*e*s. Beege let out a scream.

    She pinned Beege’s arms onto the bed by entwining their fingers. They wrestled like that with Beege trying to throw Billie off her, but Billie remaining stationary. They continued to talk as they struggled against each other.

    “Really? You were in my room last night”, said Billie.

    “Not just in your room. Your husband was in me,” said Beege, now fully awake.

    “I know that, hon”, said Billie. She pressed her jugs onto Beege’s.

    “Do you?”, asked Beege, pushing back with her own jugs.

    “Did you have a good time?”

    “I certainly did.”

    “Has it been a long time for you?”

    “A real long time.”

    They threw their arms around each other’s bodies in a tight bear hug.

    “You cannot get rid of me so easily, Beege.”

    “Is that so? I thought you wanted to get rid of me.”

    “Maybe we could come to an arrangement.”

    “Is that the only solution?”

    Beege entwined her legs with Billie’s. Billie acknowledged the act by rubbing the back of her lower limbs with Beege’s. As a former pornstar, Billie knew it was something that most fans craved for, but never got.

    “You want my husband?”

    “Yeah, sort of. Though I kind of want you too.”

    “Kind of? Not entirely? Completely?”

    “Yes. Entirely. Completely. But do you want me?”

    Billie let Beege grope her buttocks. The sexfight between them was inevitably alleviating into a make out session. They both laid sprawled together.

    “Why do we both love that alcoholic basturd?”

    “We are alcoholics too. And he knows how to satisfy us. The lush has got it.”

    “We are on the verge of a truce.”

    “Are we? The three of us are going to live together? For the rest of our lives?”

    “I think so. Unless you want to bump me off.”

    “No way. It wouldn’t be so saucy without you around.”

    They kissed. Beege raised Billie’s body with hers, Billie allowed herself to be raised and Beege pushed Billie off her onto the bed. The women embraced each other in the sideways position.

    “Do you want to be on top?”, asked Billie willing to submit herself to Beege.

    “No let’s be side by side, on an equal footing. That’s how we will live from now on.”

    They locked their thighs together. Their minges rubbed against each other.

    “Now that our minges have met, should we not introduce our mouths to our minges”, Beege wondered out aloud.

    “You do have some really nice ideas”, said Billie.

    They disentangled and swiftly locked up in a 69. When their tongues licked their clits, they moaned sweetly like two lovers singing a ballad.

    - - - Updated - - -

    Chapter 11: I Am Not Complaining

    I could write a treatise on human sexual behaviour based on my experiences with Beege and Billie.

    In the beginning when Beege moved into the room with me and Billie, there was a lot of sexual jealousy between the two women. They would wrestle each other in the middle of a threesome. But the fact that they were attracted to each other smoothed out the conflicts.

    Then they calmed down.

    They began to have fun. We began to have fun. I invented this game where the two of them had to compete to make me come. Who could make me come the earliest. They went for it. I had to work real hard. They would really assault my dick and I had to reduce my drinking to satisfy these ladies. I am not complaining.

    Then their relationship really improved. The three of us would be mating and they found this way to somehow slip my johnson between their minges. I don’t know how they pulled it off. Billie would be on top of me and Beege would be kissing her and then just when Billie was about to come, she would release my dick and Beege would envelop my johnson with her minge in a split second, like they were too teenagers throwing frisbees. It was fantastic. I don’t know how they pulled it off. There were no practice sessions. It just started one day. I am not complaining.

    Forties are usually a time of contemplation and winding down for most people. It is a seashore for washed up wasted lives. Not for me. I was having a great time keeping these two women happy. Remember Sean Connery maintaining those two murderous gypsy chicks in From Russia With Love? I don’t mean to brag. I am not some great man. But that was me. I am not complaining.

    On other occasions, I would be eating Beege’s minge (as she likes to call it) and Billie would be riding my johnson. The two of them would interlock fingers like they were two warriors. Right in the middle of our threesome. They would stare feistily into each other’s eyes. It drove me nuts. I am not complaining.

    Most of life is luck. No, it’s not hard work. Look at me. I didn’t even read Middlemarch in university. Yes, I skipped that book. I also skipped those Jane Austen novels. Barely read any James Joyce. Look at me now. I am not complaining.
    Last edited by kamafight; 1 Week Ago at 03:41 AM.

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    Senior Hostboard Member kamafight's Avatar
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    Re: The Ballad of Billie and Beege

    Chapter 12: Sharing Ben's Johnson

    We are not like men. We know how to keep it together. We know how to share a man. We keep acrimony and mayhem at bay. At times, we look at each other and wished the other would disappear.

    But three is not a crowd. There were three of us to navigate the treacherous waters of the forties and beyond together.

    We would fight once in a while. You cannot deny us that. It kept the relationship racy. Nothing like some angry sex.

    Billie: I liked the taste of Beege’s jugs. I have tasted a few jugs in my time. But Beege’s jugs, when covered with sweat was nice to lick at. Like sweet mangoes. Her udders became as erect as Ben’s johnson when I licked them. She would attack my minge with them. My god, she knew how to pleasure me.

    Beege: Billie’s minge tasted real sweet. The girl would get wet real fast. Her minge would rise like a mini balloon. I have not seen anything like it. She would ravage me with it like I would ravage her with my udders.

    When Ben's johnson could not keep up with their needs, Billie's udder and Beege's minge would keep each other satisfied. Ben slipped deeper into alcohol, Billie and Beege went deeper into each other.
    Last edited by kamafight; 1 Week Ago at 03:45 AM.

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    Re: The Ballad of Billie and Beege

    Your writing style is outstanding
    MY SEXFIGHT E-BOOKS: Anubisx's Amazon

    MY DEVIANTART: Anubisx's DeviantART

    MY LAST SEXFIGHT E-BOOK: Resort Showdown

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    Re: The Ballad of Billie and Beege

    Really excellent story. Well-written, great premise, and fantastic execution. If I had one complaint, I wish there was more and more detail when Beege and Billie finally get together. The idea of Beege going into Billie and husband's room, naked except for her panties, and having sex with the man while Billie sleeps beside them is incredible. Billie waking up and going naked into Beege's room is just as fantastic. But you know my tastes - I would have killed for a longer, more detailed description of what went on between the women after that.

    However, that is a small complaint. The story is really well done.

    BTW, you can get rid of the *** if you post the whole story at once and don't change it. It is when you edit the post later that the censorious *** come in.

    I hope we see more of your writing and more of these characters.

    JB57
    JB57

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    The Ballad of Billie and Beege


    apenman's Avatar
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    Re: The Ballad of Billie and Beege

    kama!!!

    I'm just three chapters in but I'm loving this story!

    AP

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    Re: The Ballad of Billie and Beege

    Quote Originally Posted by apenman View Post
    kama!!!

    I'm just three chapters in but I'm loving this story!

    AP
    Thank you, apenman. This story was kind of inspired by your stories. In the sense that it is sort of told from a male point of view.

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    Re: The Ballad of Billie and Beege

    Quote Originally Posted by kamafight View Post
    Thank you, apenman. This story was kind of inspired by your stories. In the sense that it is sort of told from a male point of view.
    Hey Kama,

    I finished this wonderful story early this morning. Like JB, I was hoping for a little more "action" between the two women. However, I must say that, for me, the tedium of writing that part has definitely put me in a "less is more" frame of mind lately. And when I do write that part, I'm mostly looking to keep it brief and erotic. So I was more than OK with how you chose to end things.

    Any psychologist worth his salt would tell you that my use of the male perspective in my stories is pure fantasy projection. And they would be right. Indeed, I would love to be in the room watching two women go at it. Alas...Glad to see you used it so well.

    Your writing style is unique, earthy and very enjoyable. Keep up the great work!

    By the way, I would have never thought of the Ozarks as a setting for a sexfight story. COOL!

    AP

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    Senior Hostboard Member kamafight's Avatar
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    Re: The Ballad of Billie and Beege

    Quote Originally Posted by Anubisx View Post
    Your writing style is outstanding
    Thank you Anubisx.

    - - - Updated - - -

    Quote Originally Posted by JB57 View Post
    Really excellent story. Well-written, great premise, and fantastic execution. If I had one complaint, I wish there was more and more detail when Beege and Billie finally get together. The idea of Beege going into Billie and husband's room, naked except for her panties, and having sex with the man while Billie sleeps beside them is incredible. Billie waking up and going naked into Beege's room is just as fantastic. But you know my tastes - I would have killed for a longer, more detailed description of what went on between the women after that.

    However, that is a small complaint. The story is really well done.

    BTW, you can get rid of the *** if you post the whole story at once and don't change it. It is when you edit the post later that the censorious *** come in.

    I hope we see more of your writing and more of these characters.

    JB57
    Totally understand, JB. I deliberately kept the sexfight part short.

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    The Ballad of Billie and Beege


    chuangchuanglin's Avatar
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    Re: The Ballad of Billie and Beege

    i like the ballad so much ,thank you very much !

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    Re: The Ballad of Billie and Beege

    Quote Originally Posted by chuangchuanglin View Post
    i like the ballad so much ,thank you very much !
    Thank you, Chuang. It means a lot to me.

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