“All right, Mother, it’s time you let the cat out of the bag.” Daphne stood behind her mother with her arms folded, tapping her foot.
Delilah peered into the vanity mirror, checking her face paint in the glow of the electric bulbs around the perimeter, then looked up at her daughter’s reflection. “About what? I swear, it’s impossible to keep up with you sometimes, flitting from thought to thought.”
“Your passage to America. Father told me there was something fishy about it.”
“Did he now?”
“Well, not in so many words. I made some joke last month about how you weren’t stowaways, and he buried his face in his newspaper and refused to talk about it.”
“Your father has a number of outstanding skills, but maintaining a poker face isn’t one of them,” Delilah sighed.
“You got that right,” Daphne snorted. “So what’s the big secret?”
“Why are you asking me this now? I’m going on stage in fifteen minutes!”
“Two reasons.” Daphne counted off on her fingers. “One, I was reminded by your Statue of Liberty costume. And two, I won’t help you get into your costume unless you tell me.”
“Why, you little snake!” Delilah laughed, then paused and became serious. “All right, I’ll tell you. My mother told me when I was about your age; now it’s your turn.”
Daphne slid a sage green dress off a hanger and held it out to her mother. “Here, start getting dressed while you tell me the story.”
“Thank you.” Delilah rose from her chair, shucked off her robe, and handed it to Daphne. Naked now, she took the dress and stepped into it, then shimmied it up over her wide hips and ample bosom with her daughter’s help. “Tell me what you know about the trip already.”
Daphne worked on zipping up the dress and began reciting the facts as she knew them. “It was July 1892. You were six years old. Grammy Sylvia and Grampy George were fed up with the Hungarians making their lives miserable. The three of you left Transylvania and rode a train to Trieste. Then you were lucky enough to get tickets on the SS Illyria.”
“Hmm, lucky,” Delilah muttered flatly.
“What was that?” Daphne demanded as she adjusted the shoulder straps of her mother’s dress.
“Nothing, keep going.”
Daphne rolled her eyes and continued her recital. “The ship stopped in a few cities in Italy, then sailed on to New York. You saw the Statue of Liberty, had a quick inspection at Ellis Island, they changed the spelling of your names, and that was that.”
“That’s about the size of it,” Delilah confirmed, sitting back down in the chair. “With one important detail omitted.” She exhaled, steeling herself before continuing. “In the ticketing office in Trieste, my father couldn’t get steamship tickets for love or money,” Delilah said with a faraway look as Daphne began brushing her mother’s black chin-length hair. “My mother demanded the money, then marched up and spoke to the ticketing agent. He took her into the back office, and she eventually came out with three tickets. She told us that the nice man had done us a favor.”
Daphne’s hazel eyes narrowed as she placed a sage green spiked crown on her mother’s head. “And?”
“And, I believed that until she told me the truth, just before she died.” Delilah sighed heavily and closed her eyes. “You see, Grammy had to do him a favor as well.”
“What kind of favor?” Daphne asked cautiously, afraid that she already knew the answer.
Delilah opened her eyes and fixed her gaze on Daphne in the mirror. “Remember how I said my father couldn’t get tickets for love or money? Well, my mother managed to get the tickets, but it required love and money.” Delilah’s voice dropped to a whisper. “She had to fuck that man to get those tickets.”
“Jesus Christ.”
“And his boss.”
“Jesus Christ!”
Delilah’s eyes drifted into that faraway look again. “Daphne, I told you once that everyone has to make sacrifices, and every parent hopes their children’s sacrifices will be lesser than their own. My mother sacrificed her dignity, letting those two men have their way with her, to get her family to America.”
Daphne shook her head in amazement. “That’s unbelievable. What she did for the three of you.”
Delilah looked at Daphne in the mirror. “For the four of us.”
Daphne looked puzzled. “What do you mean, the four of you? I thought your little brother Georgie was born in New York.”
“He was,” Delilah said quietly. “In April 1893.” She waited while Daphne did the math.
“Holy shit!” Daphne exploded. “Are you saying one of those dirtbags at the ticketing office was Georgie’s father?”
“That’s what I’m saying,” Delilah replied, making eye contact again. “If there was a stowaway on the ship, it was little Georgie growing in Grammy Sylvia’s tummy.”
“Unbelievable. So did Grampy George know he wasn’t the father?”
“No. Grammy knew right away that she was pregnant—don’t ask me how, she said she just knew it—so she made sure to screw Grampy as soon as possible so he wouldn’t suspect anything.” Delilah sighed wistfully. “My father was a good man but not particularly clever. He never thought to wonder why Georgie was the only one in the family with blue eyes.”
Daphne considered this. “Or maybe he suspected but decided to keep his mouth shut.”
“It’s certainly possible. He wasn’t one to let his emotions betray him. He loved little Georgie like his own son, so why make trouble?”
“I wish I’d had the chance to know them,” Daphne said softly. “All three of them.”
“I know, honey. You were just a baby when they all died. It was an awful time.”
“Goddamned TB,” Daphne grumbled.
“Indeed,” Delilah agreed with a small smile.
“Mother, I’m sorry I made you tell me all this right before your pageant. I shouldn’t have asked.”
“It’s all right, honey. You didn’t know.” Delilah clapped her hands once and stood up. “But once I get up on stage, all my cares will melt away.”
Just then they heard a knock on the private dressing room’s door. The door opened and Daphne’s friend Julia stuck her head inside. She wore a star-spangled headband in her bouncy red hair.
“All set, Mrs. D.? It’s almost showtime.”
“That’s Lady Liberty to you, missy,” Delilah said with a haughty air, then cracked a smile.
“Yes, ma’am!” Julia laughed, then entered and closed the door behind her. She wore a crisp white button-down shirt that was buttoned way down, revealing her pale skin from her throat almost to her navel. Donning her reading glasses, she consulted her clipboard and quickly ran through the program, tapping the clipboard with her pencil as she read off each item. “Everything’s all set. Of course, we’ll begin with 1776, followed by 1812. Then after intermission, the war between the states, and finally we wrap it up with the big one.” She looked up. “Are you sure you want to do 1812 instead of the Spanish-American War? We can still change it back; we have the costumes and everything.”
“Yes, I think the war with Spain would confuse half the audience and offend the rest. The politics might hit a little too close to home for some of these old bastards. Better to leave it off.”
“All right, so we’re sticking with 1812,” Julia replied as she crossed out an item on her list. “I’ll confirm that with the band.”
“Julia, I’m counting on you to make sure that all of the actors will be standing at attention when duty calls.”
“Of course, Mrs. D.! I’ll have them saluting the flag proudly, don’t you worry.”
“Excellent. This show is for charity and the audience has paid a lot to see it.”
“Yeah, fifty bucks a head,” Daphne whistled.
“Precisely,” Delilah continued. “I don’t want anything going wrong. These people have paid a pretty penny and they expect to see fireworks exploding, not duds.”
“Understood. I’ll check in with the band, then I’ll be backstage getting Mad King George warmed up for the opening number.” Julia turned and exited the dressing room.
Daphne turned to her mother. “How did you get Jules to agree to be your fluffer, anyway?”
“Please. Whenever that girl meets a new man, she goes down faster than the Titanic.”
“Well, I’m still surprised you want her around, after what she did with Father.”
“And why shouldn’t I? We both know she has the skills and this way I can keep an eye on her. With your father in Vermont at President Coolidge’s retreat this weekend—”
“You wanted to make sure Jules couldn’t sneak up there for a romantic getaway?” Daphne guessed.
Delilah gave a shrug of calculated indifference. “I know they said it was over between them, but one can never be too careful.” She rose from the chair and smoothed out her dress. “No sense in allowing them the temptation, n’est-ce pas?”
“Mais oui,” Daphne laughed as she handed her mother a torch and a large book to complete her verdigris ensemble. “Better to keep her busy here, stroking a bunch of other guys’ cocks.”
“Well, you know what they say,” Delilah smirked. “The devil finds work for idle hands.”
“That girl’s hands are going to be busy. Probably her mouth, too.”
♫
After consulting with the bandleader and making sure everyone was on the same page, Julia returned to the backstage men’s dressing area to check on any last-minute problems. Two British soldiers were picking lint off each other’s red coats, Robert E. Lee and a Confederate soldier were smoking one final cigarette before battle, and Kaiser Wilhelm and Emperor Franz Josef were huddled in a corner still getting dressed. Daphne was helping King George III, played by Lloyd Campbell, adjust his white wig and gold crown. Lloyd was not only Harvey Davenport’s PhD student at Columbia, but also his accomplice in spitroasting Mrs. Davenport on two separate occasions.
“How do I look?” Lloyd asked, flourishing his faux-ermine-lined cape.
“Just perfect, your majesty,” Julia laughed, placing her clipboard and pencil on a side table. As she reached up to remove her glasses, Lloyd stopped her.
“Miss Culligan,” he began before Miss Culligan cut him off.
“For heaven’s sake, your majesty, I’m about to wank your willy. You can call me Julia.”
“Julia,” he began again. “Would you keep your spectacles on? I think it will help me rise to the occasion.”
Julia gave him a sassy smile as she released his cock from his costume trousers. “Got a thing for girls with glasses, huh?”
Lloyd gave her a sheepish grin as his cock began growing in her hand.
“Well, good,” she continued, yanking her blouse open and exposing her tantalizing tits. “Because this luscious librarian is stacked.” Then Julia pounced on King George, grabbing his gorgeous cock and gorging herself on it.
“God save the king!” Lloyd choked out.
Daphne watched with amusement for a moment as Julia serviced Lloyd. “Jules, I think he’s ready now,” she snickered, flipping her short black hair and turning to walk away. “I’ll give the band the signal.”
“Mmmpf,” Julia responded, giving the OK sign with her hand as she continued sucking Lloyd’s hard cock.
“My goodness, Miss— Julia,” King George squawked as he whipped his dick away from her. “That will do nicely.”
Julia peered over the top of her eyeglasses and arched one eyebrow, eyeing his spit-soaked scepter as it jounced and waved in front of her face. “I suppose you’re right,” she teased. “I should show more respect for the crown jewels. Now, on with the show!” She smacked Lloyd’s rear end and gently pushed him towards the entrance to the stage.
The curtain was raised, revealing Delilah as Lady Liberty reclining on a chaise longue upholstered in a pale rose-colored fabric. She was reading from her book while her torch lay on an elegant side table. After a smattering of applause, she began.
“Sugar Act. Currency Act. Stamp Act. Quartering Act!” She slammed the book shut and faced the audience. “This is what happens…” Her voice slipped from speaking into song. “When a fool…tries to rule…”
King George appeared from stage right, wrapped in his cape and singing a waltz in a haughty tone.
“You people of Boston were causing the trouble.
You turned up the heat so the cauldron would bubble!”
Lady Liberty stood and approached him, counting on her fingers.
“The Tea Act! The Port Act! Expanding Quebec!
If you’d been in town I’d have wrung your damned neck!”
“It’s war then! We’ll have it by land and by boat,
And you’ll feel my cock deep inside of your throat!”
King George whipped open his cape to reveal his throbbing erection, still shiny with Julia’s saliva, then pushed Lady Liberty down onto her knees. Pretending to resist, she stared in open-mouthed horror, whereupon he buried his cock between her plush lips and began pumping his hips.
The audience, unsure how to react, waited expectantly to see how the scene played out. They had been promised a scandalous show and were delighted to see that the first act did not disappoint. However, it seemed imprudent to cheer while King George was having his way with Lady Liberty. Better to wait for his inevitable comeuppance.
After a few minutes of theatrical throat-fucking, King George grunted and withdrew. Wanking himself madly, he groaned and threw his head back as his cock began firing salvos of sperm onto Lady Liberty’s huge tits, soiling her dress. One of the band members yelled, “The British are cumming!”
As King George stumbled about in a daze, Lady Liberty looked down at the thick, white strands of cum plastered on her chest, then looked up to the heavens for guidance. Her expression morphed from shock to rage, and she snatched up a Betsy Ross circle of stars flag from the chaise longue and looped it around King George’s neck. The audience began clapping as the king fell to his knees, clutching his throat. Putting one foot into his back while holding the ends of the flag taut, she strangled him until he fell prone onto the floor.
Whipping the flag from around his neck, Lady Liberty faced the audience, holding the 13-star flag high above her head as the thick gobs of chunky cum dripped down her chest and the front of her dress. The audience erupted, whistling and cheering and stomping their feet, as Delilah beamed triumphantly.
♫
Meanwhile, backstage Julia had been mustering the troops in preparation for the War of 1812.
“My favorite pair of soldiers, Peter and Bob,” she teased. “When we were looking for guys to participate in the show, I had a feeling you two would answer the call.”
“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” Peter laughed. “You haven’t sucked our cocks since St. Patrick’s Day.”
“Well, we’re going to make up for lost time,” Julia said with a wry smile. “And then you’ll get reacquainted with Mrs. D.”
“I’ve never been with Mrs. D.,” Bob reminded her. “I’ve seen her suck Pete’s cock, but that’s it.”
Daphne spoke up from across the room where she was fiddling with Robert E. Lee’s coat. “And Bob was a little distracted, looking at my tits.”
“Indeed I was,” Bob chuckled. “Say, Daphne, any chance—”
“Sorry, pal, she’s off the market,” Julia cut in as Daphne flashed him a coy smile. “I made the mistake of introducing her to my cousin Tommy, and that’s all she wrote.”
“Lucky guy,” Bob commented wistfully, and Julia gave him a pointed look. “Not that there’s anything wrong with you, doll!” he added hastily.
“Nice save,” Julia said flatly, savoring Bob’s crestfallen look for a moment. “Oh, come on, I’m just razzing you!”
“Jules, you’d better get started,” Daphne warned. “It sounds like King George is about to reenact the Boston Massacre out there.”
Julia nodded and knelt in front of them while Peter and Bob fished their dicks out of their white breeches. Bob managed to release his first, and Julia engulfed his stiffening cock with her mouth and bobbed her head up and down.
“Ohhh,” Bob groaned as Julia closed her eyes and performed her magic, sliding her soft lips along the shaft and swirling her tongue on the head. Peter lightly stroked his cock as he waited his turn, pre-cum oozing out of the tip.
“That’s enough,” Bob gasped as he yanked his prick away from Julia’s pursed lips. She opened her eyes, which sparkled with delight when she saw the glistening strand dangling from Peter’s dickhead.
“Jesus, Peter!” she giggled, then took his dick in her hand and licked up the underside of the shaft from his balls to the tip, letting the line of pre-cum drape over her forehead and nose before she touched it with her tongue. “Mmm, so sweet,” she crooned before enveloping his cock in her warm mouth and slowly working it in and out.
“J-J-Julia—” Peter squawked, and she popped her mouth off his dick as it bounced and twitched dangerously. Julia wiped the spit off her lips with the back of her hand while nervously eyeing Peter’s pulsating prick.
Daphne gently ushered both soldiers to the edge of the stage. King George crawled past them and whispered “Jolly good, chaps” as the crowd continued cheering for the first act.
“Jules, you’ve got to figure out how to do the job without making the guys go bananas,” Daphne laughed as she returned.
“It’s a delicate balance, that’s for sure,” Julia replied while shaking her head. “Your mother would kill me if one of these guys blew his wig too early!”
The lights slowly came up on the second act. Lady Liberty, her dress soaked with wet vertical stripes of old cum, was standing in a spotlight in front of the White House.
“You placed an embargo on exported cargo,
You kidnapped our sailors as well.
Your government aids in the Indian raids,
And our capital’s burning like hell!”
The two redcoat soldiers strolled on stage and heckled her.
“Why are you so damned upset, little dolly?
And what do you think you can get, little dolly?”
“We’re fighting for honor!” Delilah shrilled. “American honor!”
“Honor?” Peter echoed incredulously.
“Let’s get her honor… on ‘er knees, that is!” Bob laughed wickedly.
The soldiers quickly laid their muskets on the ground, then snatched Lady Liberty by the elbows and wrestled her to her knees while she feigned resistance. Kneeling between them, she had no choice but to accept their raging cocks between her plump lips. First Bob slammed his cock into her face for a few thrusts, then when she turned away and gasped for air, Peter jammed his ramrod in and pounded her mouth mercilessly. They tag-teamed her like this for a few minutes, then Bob crouched in front of her and slid his cock between her enormous breasts, which were barely covered by her sagging wrap dress.
Knowing the eventual outcome of the scene, the audience began cheering earlier this time, clapping and whooping as Lady Liberty got her throat and tits fucked in tandem. Bob and Peter glanced at each other and nodded. On cue, one of the band members yelled “Don’t fire ‘til you see the whites of her eyes!”
Peter discharged his musket first, aiming a shot into Delilah’s mouth before pulling out and firing a volley of sperm onto her pretty face. A few seconds later, Bob slammed his cock between Breed’s Hill and Bunker Hill one last time and began shooting fat lines of cum on her neck and chest. Lady Liberty had been savagely dishonored by this enfilade, that much was certain.
The two soldiers stepped back to admire their handiwork, which gave Lady Liberty her chance. She scooped up the two long muskets and fired one shot into each soldier—the drummer giving the cymbal a crash! crash!—and the men crumpled at her feet.
“Shoulda kept your powder dry, fellas,” Delilah sneered as she tossed the muskets down.
The audience redoubled its applause, whistling and hooting and stomping its feet as Lady Liberty smiled, the cum coating her face reflecting the spotlight, and curtsied, the cum covering her gigantic tits dripping onto the stage.
“We will now take a brief intermission,” the bandleader announced, “before resuming with Act Three!”
♫
As the show paused for intermission, Delilah sashayed backstage to a smattering of applause from the cast and crew.
“Here, Mother, let me wipe that cum off your face,” Daphne offered, holding a towel.
“Yes, thank you, honey. You girls can suck on the towel afterwards if you like,” Delilah giggled. “Would you be a dear and fetch me a glass of water and another fresh towel? I'm broiling under those lights.”
“Delilah, the show is excellent so far,” Lloyd spoke up from an easy chair where he was recuperating from his recent performance. “I’m curious, who wrote it?”
“Well, I’ll tell you,” Delilah began as her daughter finished dabbing her sticky face with the corner of the towel. “I tried to engage Leila Church, but she—”
“Pardon me, who’s that?” Lloyd interrupted.
“Leila Church. She writes and directs all of the big pageants in Connecticut. Windsor and Northfield in ‘22. Manchester’s centennial in ‘23. I wrote her inquiring as to her availability, but she declined. She has her sights set on the town sesquicentennial for a crummy little anthill of a place in New Hampshire next year and couldn’t fit us in,” Delilah groused. “So instead of a major spectacle with a thousand dancers, I decided to stage a one-woman show. The cornet player wrote the music, and we collaborated on the lyrics and the staging.”
“Well, I can’t wait to see what happens next,” Lloyd chuckled as Daphne returned. “We’ll be watching from the wings.”
“Naturally, dahling,” Delilah said in a vampish voice, then chugged her glass of water and blotted her armpits with the clean towel. “Daphne, where's my lipstick?”
Next up were Robert E. Lee and the All-American Confederate soldier Johnny Reb, played by two men that Daphne and Julia had never met before.
“So how do you two know Mrs. Davenport?” Julia inquired from waist level as she prepared to suck their cocks.
“We don’t,” Johnny Reb admitted. “We do a vaudeville act here at the club. The guys in the band said they needed a couple of stiffs for a private show, and we liked the sound of it. We have Sundays off, so why not make a couple of bucks…”
“...for a couple of fucks!” Daphne sniggered as she breezed past.
“By God’s grace and this fair lady’s face!” General Lee gasped as he felt Julia’s divine mouth on his cock.
Julia stroked and licked both of their dicks until they pointed into the air like artillery aimed at Fort Sumter. They all heard the band strike up the intro to Dixie, and Daphne guided the soldiers to the front lines. As soon as Delilah was in position on the chaise longue, the curtain went up on the third act.
Johnny Reb approached Lady Liberty, mocking her as he propositioned her.
“Oh, I wish I was in the land of cotton
Then we’d screw you something rotten
Whad’ya say? Whad’ya say? Whad’ya say?
It’d be grand.”
General Lee took up the tune.
“Oh, I wish you were a true believer
But we’ll bang you in the beaver
Whad’ya say? Whad’ya say? Whad’ya say?
It’d be grand.”
Delilah stood and defiantly belted out the chorus.
“Oh, I wish you wouldn’t dick me, no way, no way
Keep your damned cocks out of my box
I’ll die before you dick me
No way, no way
I’ll die before you dick me
No way, no way
I’ll die before you dick me!”
As it turned out, she didn’t die, and they most definitely dicked her. Johnny Reb stepped behind her and unzipped her cum-splattered dress, then pinioned her arms behind her while General Lee tugged it down, completely revealing Lady Liberty’s luscious love lamps. She wrested her arms from Johnny Reb’s grasp, which only made it easier for General Lee to haul her dress down to the floor, exposing her to the audience in all her naked glory. The general dropped his trousers and sat back on the chaise longue with his feet on the floor towards the audience. Johnny Reb dragged Lady Liberty over and forced her to kneel over the general’s throbbing cock, facing upstage and giving the audience a clear view of her asshole. With a downward shove on her wide bottom, Johnny Reb forced Delilah’s hot pussy onto the general’s stiff dick, and she cried out.
Johnny Reb quickly stepped behind the chaise longue and dug his cock out, whacking it against her face as she squirmed and writhed in… disgust? lust? Somehow, Johnny’s hard cock found its way into her wet mouth, and he fucked her sweet face while his commanding officer fucked her sweet cunt. The audience hollered and ululated, giving its best impression of a rebel yell.
After five full minutes of furious face-fucking, Johnny Reb executed a tactical retreat and stepped to the side, giving the audience a prime view as he aimed his cock at Delilah’s face and undammed some Texas-sized rivers of cum onto her forehead, cheeks, nose, lips, and chin. Stunned, she fell over on her back onto the couch, leaving General Lee’s battle flag waving in the breeze. The general rolled over and pried her legs apart, then lay on top of her and fucked her as gently as General Sherman’s forces marching to Savannah. He slammed his fat cock into her savagely, slapping his bouncing balls against her jiggling ass while someone in the band shouted “The South will rise again!” With a roar, the general wrenched his dick out of her and howled as he fired a seven-gun salute onto her wide stomach and the underside of her hefty tits.
Delilah sat up in shock, blinking a few times and allowing the people in the crowd a full frontal view of the cum oozing down her face and body. Snatching up the general’s saber, she ran the saber through Johnny Reb—they had practiced sliding the saber under his upstage arm—then withdrew it and stabbed General Lee under the armpit as he lay on the couch, spent.
Tossing the saber to the ground with a clatter, Delilah basked in the glory the audience bestowed upon her, the clapping and cheering and whistling, wearing nothing but her spiked crown, a broad smile, and the remains of five loads of cum.
♫
As the surrender was being negotiated at Appomattox Court House, Daphne did a final check of the costumes of the two final characters, Kaiser Wilhelm II of Germany and Emperor Franz Josef of Austria-Hungary. The Kaiser was being played by Raoul, the tennis instructor who the previous month had cum once all over Delilah’s ass and then a second time all over her tits without skipping a beat. He had shaved his close-cropped beard for this occasion and had false extensions affixed to his mustache, and he wore his left sleeve empty to replicate the Kaiser’s withered arm.
As convincing as Raoul looked playing Kaiser Billy, the actor playing the octogenarian Franz Josef looked the part even more. As he shuffled across the room towards Julia, she blanched in horror. “Judge O’Malley!” she squeaked.
“All rise,” he cackled, leering at Julia’s chest. “Excepting you, lass.”
Judge O’Malley was approaching ninety years old and had been slowly embalming himself for decades after an early career as a legal advisor to American sugar interests in Cuba. The only thing he liked better than rum and cigars was a fresh set of young tits.
“Daphne, what the hell? Did you know about this?” Julia whispered fiercely.
“No, I just found out, honest! Mother was being coy about it, saying there’d be a surprise appearance, but I never suspected—”
“Ugh, that bitch!” Julia hissed. “Can you imagine? Judge fucking O’Malley!”
“Jules—” Daphne began.
“No, Daph, there’s nothing to be done.” Julia sighed, resigned to her fate. “All right, fellas, let’s get this over with.”
Raoul chuckled, adjusting himself. “I don’t need any help, if you need to focus on him,” he said with a twinkle in his eye. “I’ll get hard, no problem.”
“Thanks for the offer,” she smiled thinly, “but I’d better be thorough. Whip it out.”
Julia licked the underside of Raoul’s shaft and discovered that it was immediately hard. “Jesus, you weren’t kidding!” she laughed, then took Raoul’s cock into her mouth and gave it a few strokes before stopping. “Just doing my due diligence.” Raoul nodded and casually stroked his dick, which began weeping pre-cum onto his fingers.
Judge O’Malley had been fidgeting, eagerly awaiting his turn. Julia turned to him and grabbed his limp dick, slipping it between her lips as her nostrils flared indignantly. Before it had gotten halfway hard, O’Malley groaned and began dumping a load of cum into Julia’s unsuspecting mouth. She fell back, aghast, while his floppy cock poured a pitcher of daiquiris onto her chin and chest.
“Shit!” she exploded. “You asshole! You didn’t even get hard first!”
The judge had no words beyond a long groan as he finished shaking out the last drops of his signature cocktail. Lloyd sprang up out of his chair, wanting to be helpful, but had no idea what to do. He turned to Daphne for assistance, only to find her doubled over, convulsing with laughter. O’Malley stumbled to the recently vacated chair and sank into it, muttering incoherently, then wheezed “Remember the Maine!” and passed out.
Julia stared down at her spunk-splattered spheres and then looked at Daphne pleadingly. “What am I gonna do? Your mother will kill me! She’ll think I did this on purpose to ruin her show!”
“Jules, calm down,” Daphne reassured her once she had caught her breath. “We just have to find another guy to take his place. I know we have a fake mustache somewhere.”
“Another guy? Everyone’s already shot his wad!” Julia said, the panic in her voice rising.
“Julia,” Lloyd began.
“Raoul’s the only guy here who can cum twice in a row, but he can’t play both parts at once!” Julia continued, grabbing her clipboard and scanning it frantically. “We should have scheduled him for an earlier scene. Oh, this is a disaster!”
“Julia,” Lloyd said again, placing a hand on her wrist.
“What?” Julia snapped, on the verge of tears.
“I can do it.”
“Oh.” Julia looked at Lloyd and blinked her damp eyes, hesitating. “Really?”
“Really.” He turned to the other actors who were lounging around smoking cigarettes and idly watching the drama unfold. “Quick, fellas! Take that costume off the judge while I get ready over here. Daphne, you sneak around and tell the band to stall before beginning the final scene!”
Daphne nodded and rushed away while Peter, Bob, and the two vaudeville men wrestled the field marshal uniform off O’Malley’s limp body. Lloyd began undressing, then caught the wry look of admiration on Julia’s face as she absent-mindedly smacked her lips.
“How’s it taste?” Lloyd asked with a grin.
“Actually, it’s not bad at all! I think the rum and tobacco gives it a rich smoky flavor.”
“Well, my sweet sommelier of sperm,” Lloyd said softly, “I’ll just have to see for myself.” And with that, he dove down and began licking the slimy semen off Julia’s tits as she moaned with unexpected passion.
Julia reached down and took hold of Lloyd’s cock, gasping in surprise. “Jesus, you’re hard already!”
Lloyd stood up straight and kissed Julia on her sticky lips. “All for you, baby,” he whispered. “It’s all for you.”
“And Judge O’Malley’s smoky rum cum,” Julia teased.
“Sure, that doesn’t hurt,” Lloyd chuckled as he began dressing in the Franz Josef costume. “Now, I have to go—over there—and fuck Mrs. Davenport. But I’ll come marching home again to you.”
Julia peered at her clipboard and consulted a note at the bottom of the page. “Oh, actually, you’re slated to fuck her up the ass.”
Raoul elbowed Lloyd with his good arm. “Hey, how about we swap halfway through? I’ve been wanting to give that ass a ride.”
“It’s a deal!” Lloyd laughed.
Daphne returned as Lloyd was fastening the final button on his uniform. She quickly pasted a large white handlebar mustache on his lip and then stretched a bald cap over his hair. “That’ll have to do,” she said as she stepped back to give him the once-over. “Well, let’s mobilize the troops!” She stepped to the edge of the wings and waved her arms to catch the bandleader’s attention, then made a slashing motion across her throat. The band wrapped up its extended jam of When Johnny Comes Marching Home and transitioned into an original composition.
Delilah was standing in the spotlight at center stage, buck naked and staring straight ahead, as the two men strolled onstage.
Emperor Franz Jozef began: “The war to end all wars?”
Kaiser Wilhelm pointed at Lady Liberty with his good arm and sneered “The whore to end all whores!”
Lady Liberty studiously ignored them as they guffawed, a chanteuse lamenting her fate.
“We did our best to hide
And goodness knows we tried
To disengage our nation in our quest for isolation
Beyond the great Atlantic
Europe was growing frantic
But finally they drew us in and now we’re here to goddamn win!”
She turned on her heel and marched over to the men, intending to give them a stern lecture. Franz Jozef clamped a hand over her mouth and they both dragged her back to center stage and threw her down.
For this scene, the crew had rigged a low circular platform on the stage that could be rotated by a system of hidden ropes and pulleys. Raoul lay on his back and Lloyd pushed Delilah down onto his imperial dick. Ho hum, haven’t we seen this before? Then Lloyd reached for the cold cream. No. No, we have not seen this before.
As Raoul fucked Delilah’s pussy from below and Lloyd fucked her ass from above, the platform slowly rotated so that every seat in the house was treated to a splendid view of their unholy Triple Alliance.
After a few minutes, Lloyd slid his cock out of Delilah’s slurping ass and stood up, allowing Delilah to clamber off Raoul. Lloyd took Raoul’s place lying on the rotating platform and Delilah knelt over him, face to face and crotch to crotch, as Raoul came up behind her and pressed his cock into her battered, gasping asshole. Once Raoul had fully deployed, Lloyd plunged his cock into Delilah’s ragged cunt, and the three of them played out the obscene scene as the audience watched in awestruck silence.
Delilah took the double-pummeling like a champ, urging her adversaries to escalate their biological warfare. No man’s land? Forget it. No part of her was off-limits. Looking over her shoulder, she gave Raoul a nasty smile and nodded significantly as she clenched her ass as tight as she could.
Raoul emitted a long groan as he fired a warning shot deep inside Delilah’s ass, then he pulled out and shelled her trench mercilessly with a barrage of hot, messy cum. She fretted and swore as she bounced up and down on Lloyd’s stiff cock, until he slapped her hip and jerked his dick out, shooting his own bombardment up onto her ass and back, while her raw, fucked-out pucker winked at the audience and shed a single tear of joy as it rotated out of sight. Lloyd scrambled out from under her and went to congratulate Raoul, two emperors patting each other on the back.
But they hadn’t reckoned with Lady Liberty’s backside. Delilah scooped up a gas mask from behind the platform and held it in front of her face—her spiked crown made it impossible for her to wear the mask properly—as she raised her ass in the air and the tuba blew a molar-rattling blaaat of a fart. Both emperors inhaled theatrically and then keeled over, dead. The crowd burst into laughter and applause, the loudest of the show.
♫
Unsteady on her feet, Delilah needed help from two stagehands to stand up and wobble to the apron of the stage. She took her book and torch from them and thanked them as the U.S. flag was unfurled behind her, all 13 stripes and 48 stars. Raoul and Lloyd melted into the shadows, and four of the band members flanked the naked and glistening Delilah and began singing the show’s final number, a barbershop quartet with female soloist.
[Reader: begin playing the audio file now.]
Lady Liberty, hip hip hooray
She stands up for me and for you
Lady Liberty, hip hip hooray
She stands for the righteous and true
He wanted to rule me, the King of the Brits
But all he could muster was cum on my big tits
Lady Liberty, hip hip hooray
She stands for the red, white, and blue!
Lady Liberty, hip hip hooray
She stands up for me and for you
Lady Liberty, hip hip hooray
She stands for the righteous and true
The redcoats turned tail in their shame and their disgrace
But only after they fired their shots upon my face
Lady Liberty, hip hip hooray
She stands for the red, white, and blue!
Lady Liberty, hip hip hooray
She stands up for me and for you
Lady Liberty, hip hip hooray
She stands for the righteous and true
Old Johnny Reb couldn’t liberate the South
But those rebels charged in my pussy and my mouth
Lady Liberty, hip hip hooray
She stands for the red, white, and blue!
Lady Liberty, hip hip hooray
She stands up for me and for you
Lady Liberty, hip hip hooray
She stands for the righteous and true
The Kriegsmarine had to stop sinking ships, alas
But they sank their wizened old dicks inside my ass
Lady Liberty, hip hip hooray
She stands for the red, white, and blue!
Lady Liberty, hip hip hooraaay
She staaaands for the red, white, and bluuuue!
♫
The six male actors joined Delilah on the stage for a final curtain call as the band members raced back to their places to play the Battle Hymn of the Republic. The crowd went nuts, clapping and stomping and howling and tossing their hats into the air.
After the curtain fell and the others began exiting to the wings, Julia and Lloyd lingered behind. “You were wonderful!” Julia squealed, giving him a big hug. “Here, let me clean you up.” She dropped to her knees and licked his flaccid dick, lapping up his cum and tasting Delilah’s pussy and ass. Lloyd’s dick twitched.
“Jesus, Lloyd, again?” Julia scoffed in amazement. “Let’s finish you off once and for all.” She took his cock fully into her mouth and bobbed her head on it, feeling it grow harder with each pass. Lloyd gave a nod to the stagehand running the curtain and made a repeated motion with his hands, miming pulling a rope downwards.
The stagehand grinned and began opening the curtain again, revealing Julia on her knees, with her red hair still in the stars and stripes headband and her white shirt thrown open exposing her cum-crusted tits, inhaling Lloyd’s cock like nobody’s business… and yet now it was everybody’s business. The people in the audience had been getting ready to leave, stretching and finding their hats, but they laughed and cheered again as they stood and watched the unexpected encore play out.
Julia pulled off Lloyd’s dick with a raised eyebrow, cast a glance at the audience, and sighed. “Well, at least nobody’s seeing me blow the goddamned judge,” she muttered before impaling her face with his cock again.
Observing from the wings, Delilah turned to Raoul. “Got another one in you?”
“Oh, without a doubt,” he laughed as she grabbed his hand and they trotted out onto the stage. Kneeling back to back with Julia, Delilah took Raoul’s cock in her mouth, tasting the heady brew of her own cunt and shitter, and sucked him off until both he and Lloyd shot their final bursts of fireworks, exploding onto the ladies’ faces, hair, and tits. The audience roared its approval, and Delilah took Julia’s hand and pulled her up so they could share a final bow. As the curtain fell one last time, Delilah ducked her head and began licking Lloyd’s cum off Julia’s heaving bosom.
“Oh, that’s interesting,” Delilah commented as Lloyd and Raoul wandered off. “What’s that I’m tasting?”
“That’s probably Judge O’Malley,” Julia laughed. “That old pervert’s got some seasoning in his sauce, let me tell you.”
Delilah stood up and gave Julia a wet kiss on the lips. “Thank you for running my pageant, Julia. I couldn’t have done it without you.” She paused while she pinched a glob of cum out of Julia’s hair and held it out for Julia to lick off her finger. “I’m sorry I orchestrated that little stunt with the judge.”
“Well, you know I can be attracted to older men,” Julia laughed weakly.
“Yes, I know,” Delilah laughed merrily, then became serious. “Even though I gave my blessing for you and Harvey to be together that night, I couldn’t help feeling jealous. Deep down, I wanted to punish you. I was afraid that you two might—”
“Don’t worry; that’s over and done with,” Julia interrupted her while casting an appraising eye at Lloyd’s backside as he staggered off the stage. “I think there’s somebody else in Columbia’s economics department I’d like to get to know better.”
♫
