“Just what the hell are we supposed to do, knuckle under to being horny the rest of our lives?” Linda asked. “You know, Al…” both called him by his first name, “… if Debbie and I wanted to go the dyke route, we would have finished our term in the penitentiary. There was plenty of that in there. We’re out, we’re free, and we both need a little action to calm us down. The problem is, we can’t both get it at the sametime. Hell! If I see Debbie trying to turn on to a guy, I scream my head off, and if she sees me doing the same thing, she starts throwing dishes. Look, how about you putting an end to our misery by screwing at least one of us.”
“If I pick one, the other one’ll scream her head off,” Al pointed out. “Remember? Besides, I’m a parole officer, not a stud.”
“Bet you could be both if you wanted,” Debbie said, sidling over and sitting on the corner of his desk.
“Look, I want both you girls to go to work today and not make trouble. Tonight, I’m going to stop by and talk to the pair of you at your apartment. I want both of you there.”
“Sure, Al baby!” Linda said, smiling. “We’ll make supper for you.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
The little walk-up apartment where the Kaufmann twins lived had seen better days, but it was still a long way away from being classified as a slum. The girls lived on the second floor, and when one reached the top of the stairs, one had to U-turn and walk to the end of the hall to get there.
Al Bombannente got to the apartment house at six-fifteen, and when he got to the apartment, the girls had the door open and waiting. The smell of tomato sauce drifted out into the hall, and Al saw they were preparing spaghetti.
Linda was in the kitchen stirring the sauce and Debbie smiled and led Al into the living room, shutting the door. She sat him in the one overstuffed chair in the furnished apartment, took a cigar from his pocket and popped it into his mouth. Then she took a lighter from her purse, and bent over in front of him to light the cigar. She was no longer wearing the dress she’d had on earlier in the day, but instead wore a black peignoir. As she lit his cigar, her hand reached down and squeezed his huge cock.
“Hey!” Al shouted, almost dropping the cigar from his mouth. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
At that moment Linda came fluttering in. She was wearing a lacy blue peignoir, and it fluttered about long white legs, letting him know neither girl was wearing anything underneath.
“Anything wrong?” Linda asked, carrying a tray with a single bourbon on it. Somehow the girls had found out what it was Al liked to drink.
“Yeah,” he muttered, trying to brush down a cowlick that had suddenly popped up on the back of his head. “How does a guy get a square meal here without being raped?”
“Debbie, you sweet horny bitch,” Linda sang out. “Keep your hands to yourself. Remember who this man is.”
He gave Linda a steady, unsmiling gaze as he took the bourbon from her. He sipped it, nodded, and said, “I don’t know what kind of a game you girls are playing, but I know what the hell’s going on in your minds. You invited me here for more than supper, and you think I’m going to choose between you. Obviously Debbie wanted to hurry my decision along, so she gave my cock a squeeze, which, by the way, is something I do not appreciate.”
“Hey now wait a minute,” Linda said, coming to her sister’s defense. “We know we’re on parole, and we know we have to toe the mark. Sure Debbie touched your cock, but it isn’t because we’re trying to make points with you, Al. The truth of the matter is, we both of us think of you as one helluva sexy man. We’d love to score with you. Are you going to tell us you don’t find us attractive?”
“Hell! You’re both beautiful!”
“Are you going to hand us some wild tale about having to be faithful to a wife?”
“No, I’m not married, engaged, or otherwise encumbered.”
“Are you going to hand us the shit about it not being right for a parole officer to do things like this? We’re not babes, Al. We know the score. We know right from wrong, and wrong is when you hurt someone else. Right is when you do something to make yourself and others feel good, no matter what the law says. You know it, and so do we. We know you’re a good man at your job, but we also know you don’t always go by the book. So don’t hand us crap about what’s right and wrong.”
“I’m not going to hand you anything,” Al told her. “As a matter of plain honest fact, I came here to fuck the both of you. I’m capable of it, you know.”
“You came here expecting to fuck?” Debbie asked, her eyes wide open. Her long brown hair flowed down her back like a waterfall, and her small, turned-up nose was twitching.
“You got it!” Al told them.
“Well then, all that remains is to decide, which of us goes first,” Linda said.
“Oh no!” Al told her. “You’re not getting off the hook and sticking me with that decision. I’m sorry, ladies, but that’s something you’ll have to decide for yourselves.”
“You’re a mean bastard, Al,” Linda snapped. “Come on, let’s eat, and we can talk about fucking, afterward.”
The meal was surprisingly good, and Al was able to understand why Linda had starting putting on a few pounds. There was Italian bread with butter instead of margarine, and they had even bought a bottle of red wine which neither of them drank. Al enjoyed almost a quarter of the small bottle.
“Now,” he said, after they had finished eating and putting the dishes in the sink, “suppose you girls tell me just what’s on your minds.”
“You said it before,” Debbie told him. “We both want to get laid. We’re tired of clicking one another with a broom handle as we used to do in prison. We want a real cock.”
“I—want more,” Linda insisted. “I want to get ass fucked. I used to do it all the time when we were kids, letting some of the local guys fuck me up the ass so I’d be able to save my pussy for my one true love. As a matter of fact, I’m still cherry. But I’m getting tired of shoving a finger into myrear when I’m alone in the shower or convincing Debbie to ram that broom handle up my ass.”
Al smiled and said, “You girls aren’t the least little bit shy, are you. Do either of you have any hang-ups?”
Linda smiled at him and said, “Except for the idea of saving my virginity for my husband, I don’t have a one.”
“Jesus! The guy who marries either one of you is really going to have his hands full. You’re both trouble.”
“Don’t you think you’re man enough to handle us?” Debbie asked.
“Oh I can handle the two of you, all right,” Al nodded. “I’ll even admit that’s just what I’d like to do. However,” he said, without looking at either one of them, sipping some of the bourbon he had left in the living room when he had gone to the kitchen to eat dinner, “you girls might not like my way of doing things. For instance, suppose I said I like the idea of anal intercourse too, but its Debbie’s ass I’d like to fuck.”
“I’ve never really tried it,” Debbie admitted. “But it might be fun. If that’s what you want, that’s what you’ll get.”
“While I’m doing it, to make things even more interesting, suppose we tie up Linda, stripped naked of course, and let her sit in a chair and watch the whole thing.”
“Wow!” Debbie gasped. “Are you into B and D?”
“A little,” he nodded. “On the other hand, it might be fun to tie you up and force your sister to fellate me. Have either of you ever sucked a cock?”
“We both have,” they nodded.
Debbie was pouting a little, slightly angry that he might want to keep her out of the action in the beginning. Her face was flushed with anger, and she fixed herself a glass of soda water, which she drank down so quickly, she burped very loudly. Still angry at the thought of Al possibly choosing her sister instead of her, she turned her back and poured another glass of soda water. Al looked at Linda and gave her a quizzical smile. Linda shrugged. Al beckoned to her, and the blonde hurried over to him.