The real Mother Goose

“Oh please, please,” Jack panted from beside Mother’s chair, and she looked down to see him thrusting into Molly’s mouth, his hands tugging at her black velvet ears.

“Swallow it like a good kitty. Oh fuck, oh god, oh!”

And Molly did, drinking him down like Mother’s milk, purring all the while as he continued to pour his cum into her waiting throat. She lapped happily at his waning member, making sure she got it all, and Jack moaned softly, head moving from side to side, but the sensation was too great for him to refuse.

Mother’s fingers didn’t stop moving between Molly’s legs, parting the soft fur so she could rub her clit with her thumb, fingers plunging deep. The cat woman concentrated on herself now, cheek against paws, bottom up high, her tail slickly wet with Mother’s juices as the tip worked the older woman’s clit, faster and faster.

“Toby!” Jill cried, spreading her legs wider over the young tomcat’s face, but that was all she had time to say. His tail wrapped around her neck and pulled her mouth down onto his erupting cock, cutting off any more words. Jill choked on it, on his cum, and Mother saw it dribbling out of the corners of her mouth, pooling on the orange and white fur at the base. But Mother didn’t think Jill minded-she was in the throes of her own orgasm, her hips bucking so hard, Toby actually had his claws out to hold her still as he worked his tongue between the girl’s legs.

Molly mewed loudly, drawing Mother’s wavering attention, her hips grinding back into the woman’s hand, and Mother felt the cat woman’s pussy beginning to spasm, the throb drawing her own pussy toward that pleasure center, as if it were leashed. Mother pressed her hand between her legs, Molly’s tail still working there, and came, her hips bucking in the chair, her head thrown back, eyes closed, a soft moan escaping her lips as she gave into the feeling.

When she opened her eyes, Mother saw them all collapsed-Jill on top of Toby, Lucy curled in Blue’s lap, Molly beside her chair with Jack-panting and satisfied.

“Lovely show,” Mother sighed happily, observing the sweetness of their domestic bliss. It had almost made her forget all concerns, not the least of which was the note, now just ashes in the fire, and the cryptic message about her husband. Perhaps her cats really were trainable, she mused, stroking Molly’s behind, feeling the feline’s hips rise with each pass. That, at least, would be a blessing.

“Hickory dickory doc,” Jack mused, his hands behind his head, his eyes half closed. “The mouse ran up the clock…”

All three cats’ heads came up, but it was Lucy who pounced, leaping out of Blue’s lap, her claws out-he would have scratches on his thighs for weeks-toward the mouse now running down the other side of the grandfather clock. It tilted dangerously, not used to her weight, and then started toppling toward them.

“Willie!” Mother called in dismay as they all scrambled out of the way and the ancient clock crashed to the floor, the wood shattering, its innards springing loose in sprays of gold springs and bolts and cogs. Lucy crouched on top, the only evidence of the mouse a still-wiggling tail and the close-lipped smile on her face.

“Bad kitty!” Mother scolded, shaking her finger at the cat girl, and Lucy had the sense to look guilty, spitting out the mouse, which ran, squeaking, for the corner of the room.

“Well,” Willie said with a sigh, appearing silently beside Mother and making her gasp with surprise once again. “So much for domestication…”

Chapter Seven

Old King Cole

Old King Cole was a merry old soul,

And a merry old soul was he.

He called for his pipe, and he called for his bowl, And he called for his fiddlers three…

Blue pulled the coach up just as the sun was beginning to set, making Jill’s hair seem on fire as he helped her step from the carriage, dressed in red, of course, as the Queen of Hearts would be in attendance, although “dressed” was the optimum word.

Her lush curves, hugged by a tight red corset, spilled over top and bottom, her breasts completely exposed, as was the fiery triangle between her legs. She didn’t seem self-conscious or shy any longer, though, and she gave Blue a smile as she stepped down, Jack crowding possessively behind her. He wore a burgundy shade of breeches, far more material than Jill had on.

“Won’t you come in for dinner, Blue?” Mother asked, taking his hand and letting him help her down. “I’m sure they won’t mind.”

He gave her a nod. “If you wish it.”

The truth was, she did. Blue was an extra set of eyes and ears, and for some reason, she felt she needed that tonight. Something was happening, she could sense it, although she wasn’t quite sure what it was. It would be better if they all stayed a little on guard.