A New Family Business

Warning: There is relatively no sex in this first chapter, only innuendo of what is to come. I'm merely introducing the characters and rolling out the plot. If the story is received well and interest is shown, I'll proceed to at least a second chapter, who knows?

The new family business - A short story by Jacques Boncoeur

It really is difficult to know where to start. The beginning would be just as unbelievable as the end. Even I can't believe it, so I suppose I'll have to follow the usual trend and tell you something about my family. My name's Robbie and I'm forty-seven years old. I married the love of my life, Suzanne twenty six years ago when we were both twenty-one. We have two daughters, Molly who is twenty-five and single and Laura who is twenty-four and has just had her first anniversary. The final actor in my family story and the fulcrum of the events that have recently occurred is my elder brother by two years, Gordon. You might have guessed by our names that we are Scot's by birth although that has nothing to do with my story.

Despite being the elder, Gordon has by no means been a good role model. Throughout our lives he has got himself and me in more trouble than I care to think. I've been in more fights that I can number that have been started by my dear brother and I've always seemed to have carried the can either with the blame, or the injuries gained and I've spent more time apologising for his conduct usually when he is long gone from the scene of his crimes. Nevertheless I love the guy and I suppose I've always admired his happy go lucky thoughts on life.

Of course over the years Gordon hasn't reformed, to the point where our parents, family and friends have just come to accept that's how he is. Some of the 'friends' he's brought home are really way out and things got to a head when our Mum caught him fucking her 67 year old sister over the back of Dad's favourite armchair, while she was busy munching on one our mates dick. Family re-'unions' were never quite the same after that.

To my knowledge he's come on to Suzanne at virtually every opportunity, even right in front of me. 'You don't mind if I fuck Suzanne senseless, Robbie', he often says as he comes into the house without knocking or invitation after months of not hearing from him. He then gropes her tits or thrusts a hand up her dress whilst almost swallowing her face with his kisses. He doesn't do this in fun mind, he is completely serious and it is only that Suzanne firmly pushes him off. At this point he just continues, as if he's just asked for a cup of tea and his actions are what everyone does. Suzanne just accepts it and never complains. I think she loves him just as much as I do.

Anyway, back to my story. Last Friday at about ten in the evening the phone rang and it was Gordon. I had answered it and without any pre-amble Gordon said, 'Thank God you answered Robbie, I'm in the shit. I need you to line up some whores for me.'

I'm so used to this type of dialogue with my brother that I hardly took a second to answer. 'I don't know any whores Gordon, so how can I line them up?'

'Of course you do, Suzanne's best friend Kathy and her two daughters are whores and I need them for a gang-bang next Saturday.'

I think by now you can tell I'm not easily shocked but this revelation that a woman and her daughters that virtually lived at our house did come as a bit of a surprise. But one thing my brother isn't it's a liar. If my brother says they are whores, they almost certainly are. 'Gordon, call back in half an hour and I'll talk to Suzanne,' I said lamely as I didn't want him to know what an idiot I was for not knowing. 'Ok sport, give her a good fucking from me, you lucky bastard'. And he rang off.

Suzanne of course had witnessed our conversation and noted my surprised visage. 'Gordon says that Kathy, Bev and Corinne are whores and he wants me to book them up for a gang-bang next Friday.' I tried to make it sound a run of the mill statement but the tremor in my voice let me down.

'Oh yes, you'd better see if they're available I suppose,' she said, as though I'd asked if they could come over to play bridge.

'Why didn't you tell me they were whores' I asked?

'Why on earth should I? That's there business and don't start getting on your high moral horse, it doesn't suit you.'

I seemed to be the one that was being cast as the culprit once again, so I tried to change tack. 'I'm not getting on my high horse at all. I'm just saying that it would be nice to know what sort of people we are entertaining.' Of course the tack I chose was completely the wrong one.

'You sanctimonious bastard, what do you mean 'sort' of people? They're our friends and they're my 'sort' of people. So, go sit in the other room when they're here if you don't like it.'

I could rapidly see that in her eyes I was slipping from my normal role as adoring husband to that of the local cesspit cleaner. So being a true artisan I dug a deeper hole for myself.

'I wasn't casting aspersions; it's just that you don't usually like that sort of thing.'

She got up, her eyes blazing pits of fire and virtually spat the words at me. 'You fucking bastard, if it wasn't for the fact that that I vowed never to give myself to another, I'd have been a whore years ago. At least I get more fucks than I do from you.' With that she stormed out of the room and slammed the door, leaving me covered in the purple haze of her indignation.

I was so stunned with what she had said and how all of the sudden I was the one at fault, that all I could think of was to phone Kathy. When Gordon called a few minutes later, I told him that Kathy wanted three thousand pounds for the three of them for the evening.

'No good Robbie, that's what I'm charging for setting it up. Two thousand smackers top line. You'll have to haggle mate. I'll call you back in ten minutes.'

Ten minutes later when Gordon called back, I was not only a procurer but I'd also negotiated a discount.

I meekly made my way up to bed and tried to make things up with Suzanne. She was laying with her back towards my side of the bed. If the heat from her eyes had not lacked in intensity then the frost coming from her now caused me to shiver. 'Darling, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to be judgemental or moralistic. I was just surprised. They are our friends and always will be. I've even phoned Kathy up and made the arrangements. And I really mean it. It's the oldest profession in the world and even if you wanted to do it I wouldn't stand in your way.'

She turned over and looked at me, wiping the tears from her eyes. 'Yes, and pigs might someday fly.'

'No I mean it,' I said. 'It's as good as any job and no matter what you did I'd support you and be proud of you.' Of course, I never thought anything would come of it and I'm sure neither did she. What fools we are that tempt fate.

During the next week Gordon came home and of course camped out in our spare room. Neither of the girls live at home but another disconcerting thing about my brother was that he would so often walk around naked during the day and would think it nothing to fuck some woman or other on the kitchen table or in the living room without even warning us of the possibility. This never seemed to bother Suzanne or the girls but I never really had come to terms with it. Anyway, it was Thursday evening last and Gordon was naked laying on our couch and wanking to a porn film when the phone rang and it was Kathy for Gordon.

'Oh fuck, no Kath they'll kill me, I've already spent my part of the money. You've got to come. Fuck the swine flu, you can't let me down, you can't.' After a few second more conversation he smashed the phone down onto the coffee table. 'Fuck, Fuck, Fuck, Fuck, and Fuck! I'm dead. The three of them have been quarantined with the bloody swine flu. I've got thirty randy black bastards turning up on Saturday and I've already spent my cut.'

'If it's only a thousand, I can raise that, I said helpfully.'

'What do you mean a thousand; my cut's ten thou and a part of the video rights.'

'You lied to me; you told me your cut was a thousand pounds!' I said angrily.

'No I didn't, I said that was what I was being paid for setting it up, and I had other considerations.'

It didn't occur to him that at best he had misled me, if not downright lied but as usual no-one took my feelings into any sort of consideration.

'If Robbie agrees, I'll do it,' piped in Suzanne as though she was agreeing to take Kathy's place in a toothpaste commercial.

'That's no good, I need three and they're meant to be mother and daughters. These guy's are kinky like that.'

'I'll ask the girls,' she said nonchalantly.

'What the fuck are you talking about,' I screamed in amazement.

'Well you did say you'd support me in whatever I wanted to do and I want to help Gordon out.'

I sat down truly dazed thankful that my two daughters would talk some sense into their mother. So, it was with more than mild surprise when ten minutes later my wife came back into the room to say that if I agreed they were all looking towards Saturday night.

I needed to think but I was hung by my own words. I suddenly spoke from the heart. 'Whoa! Hold on. This is going much too quickly. I know I said that I would support you and I really want to but, even though I've often thought of seeing you being fucked in my fantasies, it has never been a reality, I'm not sure I could take it. Are you willing to take the risk?'

'What do you mean risk? Risk of what?' Suzanne replied.

'What happens if, once I've sold you that I can't live with second hand goods?' I was trembling now. It suddenly came to me that looking at her face that, not only did Suzanne want to do this but she was willing or reckless enough to take the risk that it might ruin our marriage.

Getting angry again, she almost shouted at me. 'Oh don't be silly, it's just sex. You've never worried about people touching me up or seeing my tits. In fact you've encouraged me. What's the difference? What if I were raped? Would you stop loving me then?'

'I'll never stop loving you whatever you do but this isn't rape, you are going to sell yourself, not to just one man but from what I hear dozens of black men. And, don't bring race into it, it has nothing to do with my feelings. I'm just not sure that I could live with the knowledge that you had willing sold yourself. No, selling yourself isn't the problem. You actually want, and you want our daughters, to have sex with dozens of men. You say you will only do that if I agree. I've already said that I would support you in anything you want to do, but I'm not sure that things will be the same between us ' I was almost pleading with her to understand. 'One thing to understand though and this doesn't affect the way I feel but I won't be a cuckold if you decide to go ahead, I want my cut! And, I want a real pimps cut, a third of everything you take, tips and all. And, that's from both Gordon and you!'

'Fuck me Robbie, I'm skint, where am I going to get £300?' Gordon screamed.

'I don't give a fuck, and its £3333 as my cut for your extras, plus the £333 for setting up the deal. So, don't try to short change me! And, I want the original £3000 for the girl's fee, of which £1000 is my cut or, the deal is definitely off.'

I had hoped that this might close the deal there and then but my wife had not heeded my warnings. 'I'm okay with that and I think the girls will agree, so it's up to you Gordon, either you stump up Robbie's cut and pay or you go elsewhere for your whores.'

As always, Gordon rode the waves like a true surfer. 'Ok, I'll find the money somewhere. Does this mean I can fuck Suzanne now then?'

I tried to hide my surprise and his enquiry helped. 'When I see £300 on the table, my whore wife is yours for an hour.'

Suzanne looked at me aghast but Gordon merely took his wallet out of his back pocket and placed six £50 notes on the table in front of me. Touché.

End of Chapter One