Family Show Down
By Montrose
Howard gets himself embroiled in a family affair

Howard took pleasure in the waggle of Mrs. Johnson's spherical hams as she scrubbed 
her patio. Mrs. Johnson, his neighbor, was in her mid 40s with a grown up daughter, but 
Mrs. Johnson was one fine looking woman, he had to admit. Especially with her hind-end 
wagging back and forth, on her hands and knees. 

Howard sipped his steaming coffee in the cool, early morning on his patio, and conjured 
up fantasies of taking that captivating female up the can right then - right there. He 
adjusted the growing lump in his silk pajama bottoms.  "Damn! Illegal motion in the 
backfield! That ass was made for spandex and spankings," he said, rubbing his balls. His 
boner made a tent in the front of his pajamas. "Oh, yeah baby..."

"A picture would last longer."

Howard nearly leaped out of his robe and slippers, yanking his hand from his groin. It 
took him a moment to locate the speaker, while he tied his robe shut. It was Mrs. 
Johnson's daughter, Angel Johnson, peering over the fence at him. The girl was nearly as 
curvaceous as her mother - just as stacked - a bit slimmer in the hips - firmer and taller. 
Angel stood 6 feet 4 inches barefoot, which made peeking over the tall fence a simple 
task for her. Howard's property was uphill from the Johnson home and his patio was 
raised, so he had no trouble seeing into their yard, even when seated. 

His 5 feet 8 inch frame was a match for Mrs. Johnson's. But her big daughter intimidated 
him. After all, he had seen Angel beat the living fuck out of a boy half again his own size, 
right in his own front yard just last summer. She had a mean temper and plenty of 
powerful in her punch.

He discovered that the old football chant was true. Blood does make the grass grow.

"I wasn't... I didn't..." he stammered.

"Go inside and take a cold shower, old man," she snarled.

Howard considered a retort. After all, 32 wasn't old. Maybe to a 19-year-old girl it was, 
but still. He just about had a reply formed when he looked back into Angel's flashing 
green eyes and decided that a cold shower might do him some good. 

"I was just... uh..." he pointed to his French doors. "I was going to... uh..." Shaking 
slightly, he stumbled into his house and closed the door. Peeking through the curtains, he 
saw Angel walk away from the fence and go talk with her mom. She pointed back to his 
house.

Mrs. Johnson stopped scrubbing and sat up. She pushed a wisp of blonde hair from her 
eyes as she listened and looked over at Howard's house. He got a better view of her rack 
now - prominent and full. She smiled broadly, then fixed her hair a bit more. Angel 
became more animated - angry. It looked to Howard like Mrs. Johnson was dismissing 
her daughter's anger with a wave of her hand. Mrs. Johnson kept looking over at 
Howard's house and smiling.

Howard wished he could hear what they were saying as he stroked himself. "Two fine 
looking ladies," he murmured.

* * *

Around 6:30 PM, Howard's front bell rang. When he answered the door, Mrs. Johnson 
was standing there, clutching a saucepan. She held a loaf of bread under one arm and a 
bottle of red wine under the other. "Have you eaten, Mr. Adams?" she asked. "I made a 
batch of puttanesca and Angel just left without helping me eat it. I thought maybe you 
could help me."

Howard barely noticed the diamond earrings and pearl necklace, nor the perfect makeup, 
gorgeous quaff, and subtle perfume. He did, however, notice the plunging neckline of her 
form-hugging gown with the long slits up the sides, practically to her crotch - Elvira's 
dress. It looked even better on Mrs. Johnson. Her left leg stuck out, exposed to the hip. 
Definitely nylons, not pantyhose - a provocative fish net with a black lace top. One strap 
of her black garter belt was in evidence.

"I could eat alone, but it isn't nearly as much fun." Mrs. Johnson had to draw him back 
from admiring her leg, but she didn't seem offended. Her smile was bright and inviting. 
"Are you hungry?"

"F-famished," he managed to stammer, as his eyes wondered down to her ample 
cleavage. 

"Splendid." Mrs. Johnson stepped up into his house and swept passed him. "Don't worry! 
I know where the kitchen is. This house is very much like mine."

When he caught up with her, she had kicked off her shoes and was serving hot, exotic 
smelling pasta into a wide bowl. She tore a chunk of bread and placed it on the wide lip 
of the bowl. Then she made another. "Be a dear, and open the wine," she said.

Howard grabbed the bottle and a corkscrew. He watched Mrs. Johnson waggle about in 
his kitchen finding silverware and napkins - setting his dinning room table. She found 
glasses and a silver candlestick. She was a whirl of expert activity - a demon with a 
purpose. It was becoming obvious even to Howard what her purpose was.

He couldn't believe his luck!

He tried to not let his hand shake as he poured the wine. 

"Sit! Eat!" Mrs. Johnson chirped as she took the chair at the head of the table, a setting 
for him at her right hand side.

After sitting, he raised his glass. "To generous and charming neighbors bearing delectable 
offerings," he said, then drank deep. The wine was good. Mrs. Johnson beamed and 
sipped, watching him over the rim of her glass. Her eyes sparkled with mischief.

As he slipped the first fork of puttanesca and pasta into his mouth, Mrs. Johnson slipped 
her agile toes up his pant leg. "Do you like it?" she asked in a voice like satin.

He swallowed. "It has a... stimulating flavor."

Mrs. Johnson smiled and took a bite herself. Mrs. Johnson rubbed her foot up his leg, 
slowly making her way to his lap. Her toes tickled his testicles for 27 seconds before 
Howard had all he could stand.

He pushed the dishes aside and pulled Mrs. Johnson up from her chair, depositing her ass 
on the table. "Whoop!" she laughed as her jugs bounced.

He nuzzled her neck as she locked her long legs around him. She leaned back. He slid a 
hand up her dress and was delighted when his fingers met hot moisture - no panties.

Somehow she managed to push his pants down as they kissed. She guided his stiff crank 
expertly into her dripping clam and he banged Mrs. Johnson on his dining room table 
with a half eaten meal surrounding them; her ankles bouncing next to his ears. She 
grunted happily in rhythm to his thrusts.

"Oh... yes... fuck... yes... fuck... me... god... yes!"

He was glad he had paid extra for a sturdy table. A cheap one would have caved in under 
the borage. Wine glasses and candlestick toppled, but the lovers didn't notice until after 
they were both euphoric and reposed. They lay on the stained tablecloth, side by side, 
sweating and panting. 

Mrs. Johnson poured more wine. They drank. They necked and petted each other. He 
admired her perfect breast, slipping her gown strap off one shoulder. She fed him a few 
more bites of her pasta. Then she slid down and in one go, gulped his re-energized bone 
deep into her face. He sipped wine as his sumptuous neighbor slurped his 10-inch boner. 

She slid it deep into her mouth, not a sign of gag reflex, then slid back, then plunged 
again, humming happily all the time. So much tongue and lips! Howard gulped wine and 
pounded the table with his fists. At times, her nose dug into his pelvis, his tool down her 
throat. Now and then she popped his stump out into the open and teased the tip with her 
tongue, massaging the drool coated shaft with her hands. At one such time, it exploded in 
her face. Went off like a shotgun. A double barrel, as it happens.

"OH!" she laughed as the second wave hit her in the eyes.

Being a gentleman, Howard dipped a cloth napkin in a water glass and offered it to her to 
wipe away excess jiz. Mrs. Johnson ignored it and pushed him back down onto the table. 
She crawled up his body, licking jiz from her face with her long tongue, sometimes using 
a finger to gather up more. A little dripped down onto her tits. Her eyes were locked on 
his, like a tigress stalking prey.

As her chest passed over his face he licked an exposed nipple. Mrs. Johnson quivered. 
The other tit was still sheathed in her gown. He chuckled that they were still mostly 
dressed. She better have a good dry cleaner. Come, wine and sauce were splattered up 
and down her gown. 

Mrs. Johnson kept slithering up until her well-trimmed bush was on his face. She rested it 
there and sipped wine. Howard knew what to do. Eventually, she came hard, dropping 
her glass and yelling out. Her juice ran into Howard's ears.

Again they lay side-by-side, Mrs. Johnson feeding Howard pasta. It complimented the 
taste of her come very well.

Mrs. Johnson spoke the first words that passed between them since he had flattered her 
cooking. "My daughter tells me you admire my posterior."

"Does she?" Howard smiled.

"Yes." Mrs. Johnson grinned and ran a hand over her plump ass, outlining her roundness.

"She couldn't be more right." Howard said. "I'll have to thank her for letting you know."

"I wouldn't, if I were you," Mrs. Johnson looked serious. "She is very protective."

A chill ran through Howard's gut, but he didn't want Mrs. Johnson to see him as a man 
afraid of a girl. "What would she do? Challenge me to a sissy fight?" he chuckled.

"I'm serious," Mrs. Johnson replied, slipping another serving of her pasta into Howard's 
mouth. "She is big enough and strong enough to take you apart. You saw what she did to 
that boy last summer - and he was a 220 pound state wrestling champion."

Howard gulped the mouthful of pasta. "She's just a girl," he said as bravely as he could.

"She's 192 pounds of anger and willpower!" Mrs. Johnson snapped. "What are you? 
160? 170?" 

"166," Howard offered. "So, she has a few pounds and a few inches on me..."

"She has 8 inches and over 20 pounds on you! Also, she's a black belt in three different 
disciplines! You want to know what happened to Mr. Johnson? On her 15th birthday, 
Angel beat him so horribly, he's been afraid to come back ever since!"

"Good lord..." Howard whispered.

"That's why I snuck over while she was out," Mrs. Johnson whispered. "Speaking of 
which, if you would like to uh... swing on my back porch tonight... I suggest you get 
busy. Angel will be home in a couple hours." She slipped off the table to stand next to it. 
She bent over and placed her hands on the table, her legs spread, as if for a police search, 
her gown pulled away from her rump. "Please tell me you can give me at least one more 
ride," she purred. "I positively worship nasty ass sex."

Howard slid off the table and stepped around behind her. "Let me see how I can oblige 
the lady." The sight of her round ass took his breath away. He had to kneel before it and 
slide his hands and face around it for a while - he just had to. "This is the most 
spectacular vision of beauty I have ever seen!" he panted.

"Oh you sweet man," purred Mrs. Johnson. "I love a man that appreciates fine booty." 
She jiggled it in his face. It bounced pertly. "And you're right. Mine is the finest."

Howard snarled as he slid his tongue the length of her ass crack.

"OH!" she moaned and dug her fingers into the tablecloth. "More of that, please."

 He obliged. He also crammed three fingers up her tight pie as he rimmed her bunghole.

"OH GOD!" she groaned.

Howard stood and slapped his throbbing joint against Mrs. Johnson's ass cheeks. He 
picked up a mostly empty pasta bowl and tipped it over her butt. Olive oil and sauce 
funneled down her crack. He greased his cock on it, then he crammed his eager meat up 
her heated rump roast, sliding and cramming as she wiggled and bounced her hips. It was 
a tight fit.

"Get it all in me, big boy!" she encouraged him. "Treat me rough! Ouch! OH! Ouch! 
YES! Break me open! GOD!"

He grabbed her hair and hammered. He pounded her without mercy. She collapsed onto 
the table under the assault. He kept pounding.

"Oh god! Oh god! Oh god! Oh god! Oh god!" she cried in time to his vicious strokes. Her 
hands gripped the tablecloth. She pounded. She cried.

WHACK! He slapped her hams. "Take it, bitch!" WHACK!

"Oh god YES! Spank me HARDER! Oh god! Oh YES!"

Howard put everything he had into slapping her ass. WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!

Howard's hand and arm burned as red as Mrs. Johnson's ass.

When he felt the orgasm rising he pulled out and humped her slippery ass cleavage until 
his load fired all over her pretty hair. He had splattered her skull from both directions in 
less than two hours.

They collapsed under the table, panting, wet, and oily. Howard lapped up the 
combination of jiz and puttanesca that dripped from Mrs. Johnson's asshole. It was 
delicious.

"Thanks for dinner," Howard said. "It was quite... memorable." They both laughed. Mrs. 
Johnson took a swig from the wine and passed the bottle back.

"You are an excellent host, sir," she replied. "I've had a wonderful time." They kissed. 
She rubbed his back with her heels and looked at her watch as he kissed her long neck. "I 
better wash up and get home before Angel catches us."

They showered together, which took longer because Howard had to take Mrs. Johnson up 
the ass again - soaped this time. 

She left clean as a whistle. She also left the broken dishes and mess for him to clean up, 
wobbling home on shaky legs. 

Twenty minutes later, Angel pulled up in her convertible Mustang. Howard stood on his 
front porch smiling at her, sipping red wine. "What a lovely night," he said to her as she 
walked up her drive.

She stopped. "What's so lovely about it?" She raised an eyebrow suspiciously. He 
noticed once more what magnificent bone structure she had. Even better than her 
mother's.

"I'm just saying." He smiled and pointed to the moon. "Beautiful. You know, romantic. I 
love a full moon."

The girl looked up, then at Howard. "Are you coming on to me?" Her head cocked to one 
side.

"I'm just saying..." He put up his hands and backed up a step - submissive.

She looked him up and down, then nodded. "Sure. Nice moon." She turned and walked 
into her home, her tight little rump an echo of her mother's. Maybe in 20 years it would 
be as fine.

Howard smiled and stepped into his own home. "Pulled it over on that big dumb cunt," 
he snorted to himself.

* * *

Angel Johnson worked on Tuesday and Thursday nights from 6:00 to 10:00, plus all day 
Saturday, so that is when Mrs. Johnson came over for sex. It was great for a month or so, 
but soon, Howard started loosing weight. Frankly, Mrs. Johnson's sex drive was far more 
than Howard could safely manage.

One Thursday night, Mrs. Johnson let herself into his front door, practically skipping as 
she took his hand and pulled him toward his bedroom.

"Rachel," he said, resisting her insistent tug as best he could. "Rachel, please..."

She stopped and stared at him. "We don't have much time, Howard," she said.

Howard sighed. "3 hours is plenty of time to have sex. Too much, maybe."

Rachel Johnson stepped closer. Her heels made her a hair taller than he. Tonight she was 
wearing a blue checked frock and long white nylons with black Mary Janes. There was 
something Alice in Wonderland-ish about the way she had done her hair. She always 
wore something different. Last time she had been a sexy nurse. The time before, a 
naughty pirate. Her natural scent intoxicated him. Howard felt his tired, red penis spring 
to life - a slave to Mrs. Johnson's power.

"What are you saying, Howard?" She cupped his balls in her expert hand, through his 
slacks. She slid her fingers up his engorged joint. "Seems to me your cock is saying one 
thing and your mouth another."

"I'm just... tired... that's all." He looked down at the floor. "I can't keep up. I've lost 
over 20 pounds since we started - I'm down to 142 now."

Mrs. Johnson laughed. "Wish I knew how you do that. I'm still holding at 150."

"And you look spectacular," Howard had to admit. 

Mrs. Johnson smiled at the compliment. Then she took his face and kissed him. "I'll tell 
you when you've had enough," she whispered with just a hint of a threat. "Now follow 
me down the rabbit hole." She pulled him to his bedroom and closed the door.

3 hours later, Mrs. Johnson walked out fixing her hair. Her dress was torn and she was 
missing a stocking. "I believe you are wearing thin, Howard," she called back into the 
room. Howard lay flat on his back on the carpet - spent - a tiny Mad Hatter top hat on 
the head of his penis. "I'll bring vitamins next time."

* * *

The next Saturday, after Angel left for work, Mrs. Johnson showed up wearing a bodice 
suitable for a dominatrix, replete with studs and zippers. Her huge bosom bulged forth 
over constricting leather. She carried a large bag packed with what she called toys. "I 
decided it was time to move our games up to the next level," she told him. "You've been 
a bad boy, letting yourself waste away, and you must be punished."

"You must be out of your fucking mind!" Howard snapped. He was afraid of Angel 
Johnson, but not Rachel.

Rachel slapped him in the face with a gloved hand. Howard fell back to a wall. It felt like 
she had loosened a tooth. "You will speak only when commanded to do so." she 
informed him.

"Why you..." Howard snarled and leaped forward.

Mrs. Johnson stopped him with a foot in his gut. She dropped him to his knees before her 
and slipped a loop of a whip around his neck, choking him. She held it with one hand and 
slapped him with the other. "Bad boy!"

Howard struggled to get up but Mrs. Johnson kept knocking him back to his knees. "You 
think my daughter is the only one who has studied the martial arts?" she taunted him. 
"You are nothing!" She spat in his eyes. "Particularly in your weakened condition! I've 
been fucking the life out of you, Mr. Adams! You are mine! I own you!"

It quickly became obvious that she was right. Rather than be choked to death, Howard 
submitted. "Please!" he begged. "I give up, Mrs. Johnson. I'll do anything you say!"

"Yes... I know," she replied. "You are my slave. But I am a kind mistress." Here she 
removed the whip from his neck. Howard collapsed to the floor at her feet, long heeled 
boots rising by his ears. "I'll even do you the honor of letting you sniff my magnificent 
bottom. She turned and wagged her ass at him. "You may proceed," she said.

* * *

8 hours later, Mrs. Johnson left Howard's home to go hide her toys and change into 
normal clothes. Angel would soon be home. 

When the Mustang rolled in, Howard was lying on his porch, propped against his front 
door. He had to call twice before Angel heard him. "Please, Angel!" he called. "I have 
something to tell you!"

She stepped into his yard, squinting at him. "Mr. Adams?" she said. "Did you get the 
mugged or something?"
	
Howard nodded. "Yes, Angel. By your mother. I can't stop her. She's... fucking me to 
death." He cried.

Big Angel ran over and dropped down next to him. She picked up Howard in her strong 
arms and carried him back into his house as if he were no more than a feather. "You poor 
little man!" she cooed. "I warned you to steer clear of Mother!"

"You... you're not going to beat me up?" Howard asked. He had been expecting to get 
his ass beat. But at least Angel would know and make her mother stop coming over. He 
only wished there was a way to make Mrs. Johnson cut down to once a week.

"Beat you? Of course not. Did my mother tell you I would?"

Howard nodded.

"And I suppose she told you I killed my father?"

"Drove him off," Howard corrected her.

Angel sighed. She sat down on the couch with Howard on her lap, cradling him. She 
nestled his tired and battered face on her broad shoulder. She smelled clean and pure. 
"You poor baby." She patted and comforted him, stroking his cheek. Kissing his tears 
away. "My mother fucked my father to death 4 years ago," Angel whispered. "The 
woman is a sex addict. I try to protect men from her. I had to beat the shit out of that 
wrestler last summer just to save his life."

Howard's eyes were wide. "You're not... 192 pounds of anger and willpower? You're 
not going to beat me up?"

Angel kissed Howard gently on the lips. "More like 204 pounds of anger and willpower. 
I'm still bulking up. But I'm not angry with you, dear baby. I'm angry with Mother. She 
should collect several men to feed her appetites so she doesn't kill them one at a time. 
But like a black widow spider, she enjoys eating her mates alive. She's a dominating 
psychotic bitch. You know that round ass of hers that you love so much?"

Howard nodded, eyes as round as moons.

"When she thinks you have nothing left to offer, she'll rest it on your face, covering your 
skull with those buns. She will not get up until you're dead." Angel looked down sadly, 
into Howard's frightened eyes. "She has done it again and again. It gets her off to kill the 
men she seduces and dominates. We have a basement full of bones." 

Angel stroked Howard's leg gently as she spoke.  She looked down and her eyes got 
wide. "But it looks like you wouldn't have gone down easy," Angel said admiringly. 

Howard looked down. He was sporting a giant boner, and it was sticking out of his ripped 
pants, pointing up at Angel's face. His clothes were tatters from the whippings. 

He gulped. Would this anger her?

Angel laughed. "Don't be afraid. And thanks for the compliment. If you can get it up for 
me after 8 hours with my mom, you must really think I'm hot!" She stood up with 
Howard still in her arms, and walked back to his bedroom.

"Please be gentle," he whimpered.

"Gentle as a lamb," she promised as she set him down on his sheets. She licked his balls 
and shaft with her soft, wet tongue. Her full, young lips took him inside and she pushed 
her head up and down, drooling on his long tool, tickling his balls with her soft fingertips. 
It only took 3 minutes for him to blast his load down her throat.

Howard sighed and lay back, floating in the glow.

"Rest now, little big man," Angel whispered as she stood, licking come from her lips. 
"I'll go see to Mother."

* * *

It was dark when Howard awoke. There was noise from the back yard. He was stiff and 
he hurt, but he went to see what it was. Pulling his robe on, he stumbled out onto his 
patio. Mrs. Johnson and her daughter were facing each other in fighting stances. Both 
women had bruises on their faces and arms. Their clothes were ripped. Both were 
breathing hard, though Angel not as hard as her mother. Hair stuck out wild on both of 
them.

Angel attacked with a lightening fast kick to her mother's head. Mrs. Johnson dodged and 
planted her own foot in her daughter's belly. "You're still too slow, bitch!" snarled Mrs. 
Johnson. "All that bulk isn't going to save you!"

Angel recovered and caught Mrs. Johnson with a fist in her ear. Mrs. Johnson screamed 
and fell. Angel jumped on her back and grabbed her mother's neck. "Just stay away from 
Mr. Adams! He's almost dead already!" the girl yelled.

Mrs. Johnson struggled under her big daughter for a while, then lashed out and toppled 
her daughter, kicking at her support foot. Angel lost her hold. Both jumped to their feet. 
Mrs. Johnson was a little faster and gave Angel another kick in the ribs before the girl 
was ready.

"Angel! Be careful!" yelled Howard.

Angel looked up in surprise. 

Mrs. Johnson took the moment to plant a foot in her daughter's unsuspecting face. Angel 
fell to the ground. Mrs. Johnson jumped on her chest and drove her daughter's head into 
the lawn over and over. She bounced the big girl's skull on the hard-packed grass, 
kicking her in the sides as she did.

After a few minutes, Mrs. Johnson stood over her prostrate daughter, panting hard, red in 
the face. "So... This is your savior, is it?" Mrs. Johnson panted to Howard. "What do you 
think of her now?" She kicked her daughter in the head. "Not so tough, eh? I've been 
kicking her ass ever since I killed her father!"

Howard stood frozen in terror.

Mrs. Johnson puffed, "Fooooow!"  She dropped down and sat on Angel's face. "Did she 
tell you this is how I killed her father? Sitting on his face after I had ripped all his life 
juices away? This is how the Reverend Goodall died, too. And Hans the butcher, Axel 
that delicious guitarist from that trashy local band, Big Dave the trucker, Bob down at the 
bank... who else?" 

Angel struggled under her mother's ass.  Muffled screams came from below. Angle 
clawed at her mother's firm legs. Mrs. Johnson held her daughter's wrists and clamped 
down on her head with her thighs. 

"Who else? Those two cops I kept tied up, but I never bothered to learn their names, a 
handful of would-be robbers I picked up by walking in dark alleys late at night... OH! 
And that reporter that started nosing around too much. How could I forget him? That was 
a close one!"

Angel's struggles began to slacken. She wasn't screaming anymore. Mrs. Johnson lifted 
Angel's arm and dropped it. It hit the ground and lay still.

"Maybe I should just kill her now," Mrs. Johnson mused. "It gets harder to beat her up 
every year." Mrs. Johnson settled her ass more comfortably on her daughter's face. 
"Maybe this is the last dance, eh Angel baby?"

"Oh Angel..." Howard sighed. A tear ran down his face.

Angel lifted her big strong legs up behind her mother. She bent them around Mrs. 
Johnson and clamped them around her middle with her arms trapped at her sides. Then 
she lifted Mrs. Johnson off her face and slammed her head first into the ground.  Angel's 
face was purple. She lifted her mother again and slammed her down again, bashing her 
head into the hard turf even as she clamped down hard with her scissors hold. 

"Ahrg!" Mrs. Johnson groaned.

"Take it, bitch!" snarled Aangel as she constricted her with her legs for all she was worth. 
Sweat dripped down her brow.

"My... ribs... breaking!" Mrs. Johnson grew weaker and weaker. Veins stood out on her 
head. As Angel's peaches and cream color returned, Mrs. Johnson turned purple.

Angel sat up with her butt on top of Mrs. Johnson's head and bounced up and down on it 
a few times, gritting her teeth, driving her mother's face into the ground. "Fucking bitch! 
I'll teach you!" She punched her mother in the ribs several times as she sat on her head. It 
sounded like Rocky smacking a side of beef.

Mrs. Johnson sputtered into the grass and dirt that filled her mouth. 

Angel leaped up into a fighting stance. Mrs. Johnson slowly wobbled to her feet facing 
the wrong way, spitting dirt. When she turned around, Angel planted a hard kick into her 
mother's face, breaking her nose. 

Mrs. Johnson hit the dirt spread eagle, and stopped moving.

Angel stood over her mother, sucking air. "Call...." She panted. "Call... 9.... 1.... 1."

* * *

Angel and Howard sat on his patio drinking raspberry ice tea. It was a week later and 
cops were still coming and going at the Johnson home. Howard wore his silk pajamas and 
robe. Angel wore a short black negligee and lacy panties, plus pink bunny slippers.

It was lucky for Angel that her mother kept a journal of her exploits. After finding that, 
the police let Angel out of jail. She was no longer a suspect in all the murders. She had 
been staying with Howard ever since being let out. He still couldn't get over her stories.

"They actually elected you queen of the cell block?"

Angel nodded. "After I beat up everyone there and half drowned the reigning queen in 
her own toilet, they didn't have much choice. I told them, the beatings would continue 
until they saw things my way."  Angel shrugged. "They came around pretty quick."

"Amazing! Too bad you didn't run into your mother."

Angel laughed. "I would love to destroy her again, for as many times as she whipped my 
ass over the years. But once she killed those 4 guards, they kept her locked up pretty 
tight. The Hole, they call the place she's kept. Guards joke about making her suck dick 
through the meal slot just for a glimpse of sunlight now and then."

"She's pretty tough, killing 4 armed men while in cuffs."

Angel shook her head. "Tough is only half of it. She probably seduced those men into 
dropping their guns. She's a professional at that sort of thing."

"That's an understatement!" said Howard. "She is a fucking Goddess. She used to get me 
fired up and begging for it even after I thought I could do nothing but collapse and gasp 
for air! She was outrageous! I can't think of anything that compares... to... how... 
she..." Howard tapered off when he looked at Angel. The big girl's head dropped. For 
the first time since he had known her, her shoulders were slumped. All the hardness was 
gone. Her big green eyes were rimmed with moisture. "But... I mean... hey.... That was 
part of her problem, right?"

"No," Angel interrupted. "I have to accept that she is a better lover than I'll ever be. 
You'll always wish it was her instead of me."

Howard looked at the tender Amazon sitting across from him. She was so young - 13 
years younger than he. He got a feel for how Mrs. Johnson must have seen him. He was 
about 13 years younger than her. It was hard to think of big strong Angel as a 19-year-old 
girl, but there she was.

"It's just," Angel continued. "I like being with you, Howard. I want to please you. You 
know?"

"Believe me, I really enjoy our time together, Angel," he replied.

Angel shrugged. "Mother would be better."

"Well, she was 40-something, and a sex addict. She had time to learn a lot." Then an idea 
occurred to Howard. "Most of it she used on me over the past months. You know, if you 
like, I could teach you everything she ever did with me. You could learn it and be as good 
as her in a few years."

Angel looked up with a glimmer of a smile. Hope filled her big green eyes. 

God, she's stunning, Howard thought. 

"Hell, you could be as good as her by the time you're 25. And being over 6 feet tall will 
make you even hotter!"

Angel's face burst into a full smile. "Will you teach me? I would like that. I'll do 
everything you say and learn it all!"

Howard smiled back. "You're even more beautiful than your mother when you smile like 
that."

Angel blushed. "Even my ass?"

Howard shrugged. "Your ass is hot, but you're still growing into it. You have decades to 
be the sexiest thing on two legs."

"Thanks for not lying," Angel whispered. "I know how you feel about Mom's butt. The 
same as any man would feel. It's perfect."

"Sooooo..." Howard looked for a way to change the conversation. "Tell me more about 
you fighting chicks in jail!" He massaged his balls.

"I actually miss having so many willing fighters around." Angel grinned and flexed, 
showing off her 16 inch guns. "It was a good workout, taking down a dozen hard nosed 
cunts every day. And a lot of them were good at eating muff too." Angel giggled.

"Oh! My! God!" said Howard, adjusting the boner in his pajamas. "Tough jail bitches 
kissing your crotch! Now THAT'S hot!"

Angel fluttered her eyelashes at him. "Of course, being here with you has advantages, 
too..."

Howard smiled. "You know, we could..."

"I thought you'd never ask!" Angel jumped up and bounded back to the bedroom, bunny 
slippers and panties flying off as she ran.

Howard sighed. He was putting on weight, but only because Angel gave him the right to 
decide when they would have sex. 

He rose slowly and pulled his robe shut. "What will it be this time?" he asked himself. 
Angel loved giving head - and damn if she wasn't near as good as her mom at it already. 
She loved gulping come, said she needed the protean. But her tight young ass was 
tempting, even if not so much so as her mother's. Maybe he could teach her how to shake 
it around while he was hammering her, like Mrs. Johnson always did. If she could learn 
that, she would be a better ass-fuck than her mom, eventually. Riding a big girl is always 
better.

"Head or tail..." he took out a coin and flipped it. "Tail it is."

"Bend over baby!" He called down the hall. "Mr. Adams is gonna break down your back 
door! Got me a battering ram!" He grabbed a bottle of extra virgin olive oil.

From his bedroom came gleeful squeals and giggles.