Posts Tagged ‘younger woman’

July 2008



“Hey, Lloyd, I hear you’re getting a baby girl! Will you miss me?” Dom thought he was more of a comic than he was, but he was a pretty sharp partner and I’d miss him. I didn’t know exactly how he’d gotten his job, but he was at the beginning of his life rather than the end, and was making the jump from store cop to real cop. I didn’t envy him the change, but then I wasn’t the one making it.



I was the one who got to deal with his replacement, an unknown quantity probably the result of the same impartial hiring process I’d run through. There had been some informal discussion about swapping around shifts, but nobody was keen on teaming up with the newbie — or keen on teaming up with me.



There weren’t complaints, precisely, but I rattled them in some unknown way. Dom told me I “had dark waters” when he was in a good mood, and called me “hinky” on days when he wasn’t. I was still in the middle of the seniority list — by date of hire, not age — and I knew some of the others continued to harbor suspicions I was some kind of management spy. They didn’t like it when I used big words, either.



There were only three topics of conversation at Dom’s farewell party. “Can I see your gun?” “Do you think management will give us a raise?” “I hear Lloyd’s new partner is a hottie.” I quickly tired of all of them, particularly the last. It was based on third-hand gossip leaking from that week’s new hire orientation, and quickly elaborated with sexist suppositions from the all-male audience who felt challenged by the absence of any hard facts to make up their own.



As somebody who spent nearly every night looking at more female flesh than they could imagine, I had somewhat higher standards and lower expectations. “Man, don’t you wish you were still young enough to enjoy her?” asked some wag who had misinterpreted my lack of enthusiasm.



He was quickly silenced by Dom, who’d had the native intelligence to notice I wore a wedding band but had never, in two years, spoken a single word about a Mrs. Parker.



The laugh turned out to be on me after all. I ambled into the break room the next morning to find the personnel manager and a young girl waiting for me. Okay, the “young girl” probably wasn’t any younger than Alexandra had been when I met her, but that had been a long time ago. She looked damn young to me.



She stood straight like she had a stick up her ass, or was posing for a Marine Corps recruiting poster, or both, and a body that would’ve had Danny panting and climbing the walls. I admit I admired her charms, discreetly, myself, but I also noticed her level gaze that flicked periodically around the room before always returning to me.



“Mr. Parker, I’d like you to meet Angela Vasquez. She’ll be your new uniformed partner. Ms. Vasquez, this is Lloyd Parker. I hope you enjoy working together.”



Angela had a firm grip and an inquisitive eye. She favored me with a social smile, but I’d seen her eyes flick from my face to my ring to the earbud and back to my face again before the rep had gotten fairly started on his retreat to the safety of the management offices.



“REMF,” Angela muttered under her breath.



“Excuse me?” I said, not catching the reference.



She waited a beat until we were alone. “Rear Echelon Mother Fucker,” Angela explained, watching me closely.



I snorted. “Very apropos. Armed Forces?” It wasn’t a very risky guess.



“Does it show?” she asked, grinning to show she knew it was a silly question. “Army. I was in Iraq; two tours.”



That impressed the hell out of me. “Well, I hope you find this a little more restful. Would you like the ten-cent tour?”



“Sure; lead out.”



We didn’t do much more that day than walk the store, every floor, so I could show her every door, every changing room, the blind spots where shoplifters seemed to think the security cameras couldn’t see, the few spots where they really couldn’t see, and most of the other quirks I’d picked up in two years.



I could see Angela treated it like a combat exercise, never mind that the bad guys almost never fired back here. She didn’t ask many questions, but the few she had were worth the asking. I found it easier to talk to her than I expected, so much so that I was a little hoarse when our shift ended.



“You look younger than I expected,” she told me at the end of the day.



The compliment took me a bit by surprise, and made me feel good. “You’re older than you look,” I said in turn.



“Yeah,” she said with a sad smile. “They say it wears off a little bit after a while; I don’t know.” The smile brightened a bit. “Well, until tomorrow, Lloyd?”



“See you then, Angela. Have a good evening.”







I started looking forward to the day job. I got a lot of razzing from the guys, until Angela nearly broke a few fingers off the hand of the idiot who thought the way her ass filled out her uniform slacks gave him license to pat it. After that, they treated her with the respect you’d give a tiger, and put down our cordial partnership as another facet of my mysterious bearing.



My secret was that I simply treated her like a daughter or granddaughter instead of some centerfold picture. I wouldn’t have thought you needed a psychology degree to figure that out, but maybe I was wrong.



Angela was intelligent and inquisitive, sometimes annoyingly so once she got over her initial reticence. She reminded me a little of Alexandra, more so when I found she was working this job during the day to make money for school during the evenings. The Army had paid for her undergraduate degree, but she was determined to get an MBA and break into a good management job. “Nobody ever got rich working for somebody else.”



Our shifts grew to resemble freeform dialogs on the topics she encountered in class, occasionally interrupted by the need to dissuade misguided shoppers from eroding the store’s bottom line. Angela’s gratitude was obvious, since she didn’t have much free time off for studying. I was happy to keep our conversations on safe topics.



Nevertheless, as that summer faded into memory, a degree of tension worked itself into our friendship. Part of the problem was me; I’d been extremely reluctant to say anything more about myself other than I was a widower who didn’t want just to sit home alone. Nevertheless, I could see the wheels turning in Angela’s mind — figuratively — every time this old geezer undercover officer she worked with managed to answer, at length and off the top of his head, nearly every question that came up in her coursework. A good deal of the art of our profession was noticing things that looked out of place, and I knew it was bothering her.



The other part of the problem also was me, so to speak. It seemed I was finally waking up to the fact that I was still a man — one who hadn’t gotten laid in more than five years. I remained stubbornly faithful to my memory of Alexandra and the promise I’d made her, but it was starting to get hard.



The girls at Home Run were walking inducements for sex and treated me with the careless familiarity of someone who was harmlessly androgynous. It wasn’t exactly like being the palace eunuch; rather, the thought that someone of my ancient decrepitude might retain a sex drive just never crossed their minds. Danny wasn’t that much younger than me, and he was still active. Anyway, I thought I’d become inured to it all.



I knew I had a problem when I caught myself thinking one afternoon about what Angela’s ass would look like if she were in heels instead of her black athletic shoes. I gritted my teeth and told myself to focus on the accounting problem we’d been discussing.



My conscious mind was one thing, but I started waking in the mornings with erections and unsettling fragments of half-remembered dreams that all featured a lithe, dark-haired beauty with a flashing smile. I felt vaguely guilty, but there was nothing I could do about it.







I started going off the deep end in October. Some of Angela’s friends from school were throwing her a party for her 25th birthday, and she invited me. I mumbled something non-committal at the time, repeatedly counted up the reasons I shouldn’t go, and ended up taking a night off from Home Run anyway.



The place was some restaurant I’d never heard of before, and I knew I shouldn’t have come the moment I stepped in the door. I took a long look at the cluster of youngsters gathered around Angela and realized I was probably older than all of their professors. Unfortunately, Angela spotted me before I could retreat.



“Lloyd!” she screamed, bouncing to her feet. Maybe a dozen pairs of eyes were focused on me while she hurried over and embraced me. “I’m so glad you could make it! C’mon over and meet everybody!” My body tingled where her breasts had brushed it, and what she did to a pair of jeans had to be illegal.



Angela introduced me around to her friends, whose names I uncharacteristically forgot, as her partner, and parked me on a stool next to hers. All of them were acquaintances from the University, save one young man whose eyes held the same faintly haunted expression as Angela’s.



“I brought your something,” I told her during a lull in the noise. “You don’t have to open it here.”



She looked at the slim package, wrapped in expensive paper from the specialty store in the mall, and then at me. “That’s so sweet, Lloyd; you didn’t have to do this.” Before I could react, she leaned over and pecked me on the cheek.



My paralysis lasted a minute or two while she tucked the gift into her coat pocket, and nobody else commented on our interchange. I was intensely aware of Angela’s proximity the remainder of the evening. The left side of my body felt her heat, even when I was drawing out her acquaintances on their experiences at school.



“Hey, you want to go clubbing with us?” Angela asked me after the remains of the meal had been cleared away and we’d embarrassed her with the obligatory “Happy Birthday” chorus.



“Are you kidding?” I laughed, and then blinked. The mental picture of myself trying to bounce along to the crap I heard filtering out of the Abercrombie changed channels to the image of Angela drawing a bare knee up my leg, spreading her tiny miniskirt, and arching her back to emphasize her breasts through an indecently thin top. I hurriedly added, “My heart would never survive it.”



“You aren’t as old as you think you are,” she chided me with a smile.



The erection filling my underwear begged to differ, and I remained close to the table as the group began to break up and made their goodbyes.



I welcomed, and simultaneously dreaded, a farewell hug from Angela. “Thanks again for coming, Lloyd. And thanks for the gift; you didn’t need to get me anything.”



“You’re welcome. Have fun; I’ll see you Monday,” I replied.



I drove home to my dark apartment, carefully undressed, and masturbated for the first time in decades. My hand hadn’t forgotten what to do, my cock was aching for release, and there was still a hint of Angela’s scent on my shirt. A little lotion for lubrication soon warmed to body temperature, and each slow stroke I made pulled the tension out of my body and concentrated it beneath my hand.



The pace didn’t stay slow for long. I closed my eyes and started fantasizing, dreaming of delicate feminine fingers replacing mine on my heated manhood. A moist tongue extended to touch me, warning me of the warm lips that were about to engulf my glans. In my imagination, my hands were free to guide her head closer, but the hair threading between my fingers remained stubbornly dark and it was Angela’s face that looked lovingly up at me, not Alexandra’s.



“I didn’t thank you properly,” she’d say, releasing me and crawling sinuously up my body. Angela was naked, and bare like most of the girls at Home Run, so there was nothing to obscure the view as she inserted me into her glistening folds. My penis felt like it had entered a sauna, and her muscles gripped me like a hand, but her hands were supporting her body so I could admire her compact breasts and the ruddy nipples capping them.



My hands pulled her forward, dragging her off my spear, so I could taste her skin, capture one of those buds between my teeth, and stretch it before allowing it to pop free. Her lips parted with an inarticulate sigh that left us both trembling, and when I pushed her back to spear her again, she was wetter than before.



“Do that again,” she gasped, and after I did, her nipples matched, equally stiff and engorged.



“I don’t think I can take much more of this,” I admitted. Every nerve in my body felt like it was energized and my heart was racing.



“Thank God,” Angela replied, wearing an expression of desire that managed to raise my blood pressure even more. She started rocking herself more vigorously, working my frenzied penis with her pussy, and the ends of her hair, perfumed by her body, trailed across my face. A droplet of sweat zigzagged its way down a jiggling boob, never quite breaking free.



My body jerked, and Angela threw back her head and screamed her climax as I began pumping jets of hot sperm onto my undershirt.



“Oh God, Alex, forgive me!” I sobbed into the stillness of my lonely apartment. The semen cooled rapidly, but my desire did not.



I knew it was just a dirty old man’s fantasy. My darker side, stirring sluggishly to life after a long sleep, reminded me that, unlike other men, I had the power to make that fantasy a reality. I sat on that thought — hard. The trail behind me of lives ruined or ended by my feeble attempts to play god for my personal benefit still haunted me.







Nevertheless, in the same way my body and spirit slowly had returned to life, my intellect was stirring again. Fed by my discussions with Angela about her coursework, I realized I missed the stimulation of using my entire mind. My idle thoughts — purely as an intellectual exercise! — drifted to considerations of how I could “fix” somebody while avoiding the missteps of my youth.



The only thing that kept this madness in check was the dawning suspicion, totally against all expectations, that Angela might be interested in me.



She was never without the expensive pen and pencil set I’d given her. While we both remained professional at work, Angela’s demeanor seemed warmer than before, and she invited me out for a drink the following Friday. “Oh come on, Lloyd. I feel like I owe you a round!”



I tried to make light of it. “It’s date night. Don’t tell me you couldn’t find a younger man!”



She laughed and made a rude gesture with her hands. “I prefer a companion with a little more intellectual depth, and you’re much smoother with the mental undressing.” Angela laughed harder at my guilty start. “Don’t worry, I take it as a compliment. If you weren’t looking, I’d know you were gay!”



“Now who’s being politically incorrect?” I chuckled. “I guess you talked me into it.”



We ended up in a booth upstairs. Surprisingly few people remembered the store had a small restaurant in it — a throwback to the old days — and it certainly wasn’t the sort of place people went on Friday nights. It was quiet, and even if the employee discount didn’t extend to alcohol, a few beers weren’t going to break us.



Angela had softened her look by donning a disappointingly bulky but warm turtleneck and letting her hair down. She’d been growing it out, and it was long enough she usually put it up when she was on the clock. I, of course, was already set with a forgettable flannel shirt and cardigan.



Our conversation avoided the financial meltdown, work, and school, and drifted onto our pasts. Angela’s laconic accounts of her experiences in the Army were by turns comedic and dark, and I was pretty sure she was self-censoring some of it. In her turn, she was tickled to hear I was an alumnus. We compared notes on the changes (or not) between our eras for a while, but she guided the conversation back to me.



With some initial reluctance, I described my meeting with Alexandra and how we’d come to marry. Needless to say, many details were omitted and others altered for the benefit of young ears. She was horrified to hear we’d lost our son at the World Trade Center. Even with sympathetic prodding, I couldn’t say more about Alexandra than that she’d died a few years ago after a long illness.



It was still more than I’d ever told anybody, except maybe Danny, who’d lived it too, and I realized that the tightness in my chest had loosened a bit by the end of the telling. Angela furtively wiped her eye, and we sat silently for a moment longer.



The restaurant was deserted; it was past closing time and I vaguely recalled Angela telling them we’d lock up on our way out. Just at the moment, perversely, I was feeling a warm sense of companionship rather than sexual attraction. “We should do this again,” I suggested. “Next week, my turn?”



Angela shook her head, dashing my hopes. “On Halloween? Are you kidding?”



I couldn’t believe I’d forgotten. Danny always threw a costume party at Home Run that was like Mardi Gras, but with fewer morals. There was no way I could skip out on it; I didn’t know how he’d made it through the years I’d been gone without getting raided, or worse.



“How about the week after that?” Angela countered, shattering my introspection and lifting my spirits.



“Let me check my appointment book,” I grinned. After a little pantomime, I added, “My eyes don’t work so well in the dark anymore; can you make this out?”



“It says you have a date with a smack for being a wise guy,” she mock threatened, but spoiled the effect by laughing.



“Well, heck,” I was laughing too, “a drink with you beats a smack upside the head any day — I guess we’re on!”







It was back to the old grind after that. I intercepted an odd look or two from Angela later the next week, but we still seemed as close as ever and my mind was focused on trying to head off Danny’s wilder ambitions for Halloween.



The party was a disaster. Personally, not professionally, that is; Danny was a master at gauging his audience and cleaning up on the business side. The problem was, there were a lot of people there and every damn time I caught a glimpse of a thin brunette, my cock ratcheted up another notch in my tuxedo pants.



It was ridiculous — Home Run would be the last place on earth I’d expect Angela to show up. Even if she did, she didn’t strike me as the sort of girl who’d go out wearing only a mask and a G-string. Maybe the red devil with the cutout around her crotch, but not with a pitchfork that had dildos instead of tines. Who knew there were so damn many brunettes in town?



After walking halfway around the room trying to get a look at the face of the harem girl who was covered from head to toe, but only in gauze so thin you could read a newspaper through it, I had to retreat upstairs to my office.



Danny poked his head in the door while I was cleaning up after my jerk-off session. “You know, Lloyd, you don’t have to do that. At least half the girls would be more than happy to give you a blow, or fuck, or whatever. Whatever you promised Alexandra, she’s gone now.” His tone was neutral, nonjudgmental, but then he’d been amoral since our unexpected meeting in the Madison lobby long ago.



“Thanks,” I told him, the stark reminder of my past poor planning pouring cold water on my nerves. “I’m okay, now.”



I didn’t stress out for the rest of the evening. I told myself things would just happen in their own time, or they wouldn’t. Any thoughts I might have to the contrary were purely hypothetical intellectual exercises to pass the time, like doing the crossword puzzle. I was almost able to convince myself everything really was okay.







Then there was Obamamania. The effect was a bit muted in the store, whose clientele slanted more Republican, but you couldn’t avoid it anywhere else. I knew by the spring in Angela’s step who she’d voted for; actually, so had I, but I didn’t advertise it.

I didn’t want to stay at the store, so I’d made reservations at an Italian place Danny recommended. It was expensive enough to keep out the noisy crowds, but perversely focused on the “casual chic” sort who didn’t get excited about dressing up to eat.



Angela gave me a long look. “Am I going to be okay like this?” she asked me, gesturing at her sweater, after I’d given her the option of convoying or carpooling.



“I’m not changing,” I nodded. “Besides, you know you’ll have the waiters walking into walls.”



“Stop it,” laughed Angela. “What would you know? Do you even own any clothes younger than I am, gramps?”



“Ouch,” I winced. “I have it on good authority you’re fine. Shirt? Check. Shoes? Check. No swimsuit — Check. Don’t worry.”



“Well, I’ll trust you,” she said lightly, sending a faint chill down my spine. “But I’ll drive; I seem to recall somebody saying he didn’t see too well after dark.”



Her old Taurus looked and sounded like it was on its last legs, but it knew its mistress and got us to the restaurant without complaints. Angela hesitated in the driveway, seeing the valet sign ahead but no alternatives — apparently the casual chic didn’t like to self-park, either. She sighed and pulled up in front of the door.



They were expecting us, and the maitre d’ led us back, not to the table I was expecting, but to a curtained-off private room. It boasted a fireplace, a chandelier, and an ornate table set for two. A single long-stemmed red rose was laid across one of the settings. Goddamn it, Danny! I silently cursed and colored beneath the expressionless gaze Angela turned on me.



“If this will suit?” the host asked, pulling back a chair for Angela.



She nodded, showing considerable poise, and allowed herself to be seated. I was seated across from her a moment later, and the wait staff left us, promising to return momentarily with menus and water.



“Well,” Angela allowed. “This is… a little more than I was expecting. You did say ‘drinks’, didn’t you?”



“I have never been so embarrassed in my life,” I muttered into my lap.



“What?”



I looked up at her. “I said, I’m sorry.” After a heavy sigh, I continued, “I asked a — friend — to recommend someplace quiet where a couple could talk. I think he’s a little too invested in my emotional well-being and jumped to conclusions. I certainly didn’t expect this! We can leave, if it’s making you uncomfortable.”



“No, we’re here,” Angela said, lifting the rose to her nose and inhaling. “I saw your face when we came in, and I know you didn’t expect this any more than I did. It’s a little humorous, really.”



There was a break while we ordered drinks and some appetizers.



Angela spoke up again, sounding stern, as soon as we were alone. “But you’ve been holding out on me, Lloyd.”



I let my surprise show, uncertain what she meant.



“I was curious, so I looked you up in the alumni directory. Why didn’t you tell me you have a Ph.D.? Christ, no wonder you can sleepwalk through my coursework! What are you doing wasting your life doing store security?”



“That part of my life’s over,” I told her flatly, slumping back in my chair and draining off half my glass of wine. “I can’t do it anymore.”



She backed off her intensity. “Yeah, your wife. I Googled her. I’m so sorry; that must have been Hell for you. What a tragic accident.”



I didn’t say anything, but just stared at the menu without seeing any of the words and clenched my hands in my lap. And cursed Angela’s perceptiveness.



Her eyes narrowed. “It was an accident, right? Surely you can’t blame yourself for it? Lloyd?”



“I. Don’t. Want. To. Talk. About. It.”



Angela sighed and picked up her menu, but the atmosphere remained tense through the end of the salad course.



She surprised me by speaking up just after we’d gotten our entrees. “I’m sorry I’m being pushy, Lloyd. I’ll say one more thing, and then I promise I’ll shut up and never mention it again if you don’t want me to. Okay?”



I nodded, resigned.



“Don’t cheapen Alexandra’s memory this way. I care about you, and you’re throwing your life away for something that wasn’t your fault. Look, I saw a lot of bad things in Iraq, and others saw worse. Bad things happen in life, Lloyd. But we pick ourselves up and move on, because if we don’t, then what were our friends sacrificing themselves for? Don’t be a quitter.”



Her premise was wrong, but I couldn’t tell her that. Knowing she cared lightened my heart, and the humor of the situation got to me. Getting lectured about life by a young girl? “Yes, mother,” I rolled my eyes.



She smiled, and the rest of the evening passed much more agreeably.



When we left, Angela was carrying the rose with her. “Thank your friend for the rose,” she told me while we waited for the valet.



“I’ll tell him what he can do with your rose,” I growled, still embarrassed by the whole thing.



“You’re so sweet,” she laughed, and squeezed my arm gently.



We drove back to the mall, and Angela pulled up next to my old Acura. “Next week, my turn?” she asked casually. “In less refined surroundings,” she added with a laugh.



“Absolutely,” I agreed with delight. I was even more delighted when she leaned over and brushed her lips against my cheek before I climbed out. “Drive safely,” I warned, closing the door.



“Live well,” she shouted through the glass. Angela waited until I had the engine started, and pulled away into the night. She was incorrigible.



I spent the night dreaming about the touch of her lips, and what they would feel like everywhere on my body. In my dreams, we revisited the restaurant, but Angela was the main course. She lay naked atop the table, writhing in ecstasy, while I gave her the fucking of her life and we both came together. Later, we spooned on the plush rug in front of the fireplace, and her kisses tasted of our combined excitement.



That smile was still on my lips when I woke alone in bed, and the stickiness in my pajamas belonged only to me. Was she as interested in me as I was in her? The question kept preying on my mind.







I didn’t know which one of my bastard coworkers to blame, but I knew the jig was up when I met Angela in the break room Thursday morning.



“Hey, I’m sorry, but I have a conflict for tomorrow. Could we reschedule for Tuesday?” Angela already had her “professional” smile on, but I could see the glint of humor in her eyes. For damn sure she knew it was my birthday.



Arguing would have prolonged the inevitable. “Yeah, but no fancy stuff,” I warned her.







“Plain enough for you?” Angela asked archly; she’d just pulled her winter coat over the uniform. It meant we weren’t going upstairs, and probably weren’t going out anywhere that wasn’t extremely casual.



My pulse sped slightly in nervous anticipation. “I’m yours to command.”



She laughed. “How long will that last?”



It wasn’t technically holiday season yet, but the mall had already opened satellite parking lots for the employees, so we rode the shuttle out. “Just follow me,” Angela said during the ride. “I’ll drive really slowly so it’ll seem familiar to you.”



Angela didn’t carry through on her threat, but she was a careful driver and I didn’t have problems staying with her, even in the evening rush. We headed generally in the direction of the University and turned into an unremarkable residential area. I followed her slowly down a street, and saw Angela roll down her window and point towards a vacant spot along the curb.



As I pulled in, she sped down the street and turned into an entrance just beyond the building, quickly disappearing from view. I got out of the car and looked around, feeling a little light-headed; this had to be where she lived! I started walking towards the door of the building she’d gone behind, and Angela appeared in the doorway when I was about two-thirds of the way there.



We walked up to the second floor and she unlocked her door before ushering me in. “Welcome to Casa Vasquez, Lloyd. Throw your coat in the closet. Can I get you a beer or glass of wine?”



“Something red would be great,” I answered, looking around with interest. There wasn’t a lot of furniture, and everything was spic-and-span; pretty much the polar opposite of my place. I heard some clunking and shifting of cookware in the kitchen, so I drifted that way.



Angela met me there. A pair of half-filled glasses sat on the counter, and she’d just put a pot on the range. “It’ll take a little while to heat, but the hard stuff was done yesterday. I hope you like Mexican.”



I smiled and told her, “I’m not so picky in my old age.”



“Great! If you can amuse yourself a minute or two longer, I’ll change into something more comfortable.” Angela winked at me and sauntered out.



A sip of wine steadied my nerves, and I wandered back into the main room. There was a small display case hung on the wall, and I moved closer to examine its contents. There were some ribbons and medals, of which I recognized only a Purple Heart, what I took to be a unit insignia, and her Bachelors diploma. The rose from our last dinner lay in the bottom of the case. I looked around for pictures, but didn’t see any.



“Ta-da, comfortable and decidedly not fancy!” Angela announced. I’d faintly hoped for a filmy negligee and heels, but what I got was sweatpants and a tee-shirt, with fuzzy slippers. The shirt, which was black, proclaimed “I invaded Iraq and all I got was this fucking shirt.” It had the same insignia as the patch in the case.



“It seems like a lot of work for a shirt,” I laughed.



“You have no idea,” Angela said, walking back to the kitchen to check the pot. The back of the shirt said, “TWICE.”



“Come on,” I kidded her, “were you even out of diapers for the first one?”



“First grade, I think,” she mused while giving the pot a stir. “They decided a second tour was good enough for government work. Here, get some more wine; we have about 15 or 20 minutes, I think.”



Angela disappeared again while I refilled our glasses, but she was back by the time I was setting down the bottle. “Happy birthday, Lloyd,” she smiled, and then handed me a gift box.



“You didn’t have to do this.” Whatever it was, it had a little heft to it. I opened the box, and found it contained a man’s watch. Looking more closely, I realized it was an old stainless steel Rolex, still in pretty good condition. “Angela, I can’t accept this; it must have cost you a fortune.”



She lightly pushed away my hand. “It didn’t cost me a penny. My mother gave it to me; I guess it was my grandfather’s.” Her eyes focused inward for a moment. “She’s never been very talkative about her side of the family.”



“It must have some sentimental value; save it for your husband, then.”



“Stop whining and just accept it! I forgot I even had it, honestly, but I thought of you right away when I found it. You know nobody my age wears watches anymore — we just look at our cell phones. It would make me happy for you to have it.”



I carefully removed the watch from the box and examined it. It looked like an Oysterdate, which pretty much exhausted my knowledge of Rolex watches, and appeared to be in mint condition except for some scratches on the bottom of the steel link band. Angela obviously had wound it and set the correct date and time.



After a moment of thought, I removed my pedestrian Timex and put on the Rolex; it sat solidly on my wrist, a little loose but quite passible. “Thank you, then, from the very bottom of my heart.”



“You’re welcome.” She hugged me, and I was intensely aware of her body beneath the thin shirt. I didn’t want to embarrass either of us with an erection, but my body had other ideas.



“So, what are we eating?”



“Carnitas,” Angela answered, looking back at the range. “It’s slow-cooked pork, served with lots of things that are bad for you. But, hey — we both probably should be dead already.”



It proved to be delicious. I forced myself to stop before I was full, not wanting to be bloated.



“Forget about the dishes,” she ordered me when I started to clean the table. “Go sit on the futon and pretend you’re a guest, okay?” Angela punched the button on the coffeemaker and joined me; our knees were almost touching.



I shifted a bit, using my hands folded in my lap to cover my rigid penis. Angela looked at me, as if she were waiting for something, and I gazed back at her, taking in the loose coil of hair on the back of her head, the way her bust moved lightly beneath the shirt as she breathed, and the curve of her legs beneath the soft pants.



“You’re undressing me again,” she chided.



“I think you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” I told her with a dry mouth.



A slight wariness entered her eyes, but I was already too far gone to notice it. “I admire you very much, too.”



They were almost the words I’d been longing to hear. I needed her so badly! My hand trembled when I reached out to turn her face towards me so I could kiss her the way I’d been longing to.



She swept my hand easily aside and turned her face away, stiff-arming me back into my place. “Lloyd, no!” Angela was clearly upset, but still in command of herself and the situation.



I stared at her in stark incomprehension. “No?”



“I invited you here tonight to salute you and feed you, Lloyd — not to have sex!” She was trembling now, herself. “I am not that kind of woman.”



“You’re all that kind of woman!” I shouted, and began struggling to reach her.



Physically, she had nothing to fear from me; emotionally, anger started to displace her initial disbelief. Angela shouted, “NO!” and slapped me, hard.



YES!” I raged, and waves of emotion fueled by loss, rage, humiliation, and lust channeled through my mind’s eye and crashed down on her like a ton of bricks. Mentally, it was more like a ton of flashing, razor-edged knives.



I wasn’t consciously directing anything, but my raw ability hadn’t faded any after years of disuse. Any inhibitions I might have felt were buried beneath raw emotion and a bitter sense that all my past attempts at self-restraint had ended badly. I didn’t show any restraint at all, that evening.



The tangled ball of Angela’s mind thrashed as if the individual strands of her consciousness were unraveled simultaneously in place and then stretched in differing directions, somehow forming two almost independent but interwoven tangles, before the sparkles forming them began to flare under the pressure of my intent.



I wanted a slut, a wanton sex object who would always be ready for my attentions, craving my touch, and loyal beyond all doubt or distraction. Not a slave, exactly, but a partner whose most focused desire would be my own gratification by whatever means necessary. If I felt even a passing desire to take her, she would be ready. The living incarnation of every adolescent boy’s unwaking wet dream and carnal fantasy.



Both of us screamed. What Angela felt, I didn’t know, but the mother of all headaches seemed to hit me like lightning, and the sparkles of her mind were eclipsed by the stars appearing in my vision, just before I passed out.







My senses were out of kilter when I finally decided I was awake. Keeping my eyes closed seemed to reduce the intensity of the headache, and allowed me to concentrate on the pleasure I was receiving. My first thought was that Susan was blowing me; that we’d stolen away again to the lumpy couch in the ladies’ washroom for a quickie. She was all frantic desire, without the quiet, assured confidence that Alex had developed after decades of learning more about my body than I knew myself.



Belatedly I understood that framing the comparison at all meant it couldn’t be either of them, and I forced my aching eyes open. Angela knelt between my legs, worshipping my organ with an intensity of purpose that showed in every line of her body. The sight of this fantasy realized brought me to full rigidity.



Angela stood, revealing her sweatpants and underwear already were missing. My eyes drank in the arousing contours of her young body, pausing briefly at the traces of semen glistening near her neatly groomed bush. Wearing only the tee shirt and socks, she quickly knelt atop me and guided my erection into her pussy.



We both moaned at the exquisite sensation, and Angela quickly looked up at my face. Seeing that I was awake, she gave a cry of delight and leaned forward to kiss me aggressively. “Master!” she cooed a moment later.



“Don’t call me that,” I blurted, feeling the word jab at my guilty conscience.



She started and pulled back slightly, suddenly looking as if she might cry. “Don’t you find me pleasing?”



“Don’t stop! Oh, you’re extremely pleasing; just — not that word. I’m nobody’s master, least of all yours.”



The smile reappeared instantly. “Whatever you say,” she agreed, and began to work herself on me again. Angela’s expression suggested she was pandering to some beloved, but addled, elder — not a bad analogy — but became by turns more self-absorbed as our excitement crested higher.



I couldn’t remember the last time I’d cum more than once in a day, but years of abstinence coupled with the sight — and feel — of Angela’s wild abandon were pushing me to the edge again. “Oh, you hot fucking slut,” I gasped, not bothering with any self-censorship at this point.



As if my words were goads, Angela began panting. “Oh, fuck! Fill me up with your cock! I am your slut! Oh! OH! Ohmygod!



She was too much for me, and I felt my penis throb as I orgasmed the remaining dregs of my scum into her. Angela screamed her delight at the same time, orgasming so wildly she put out a hand to grip the futon and keep from falling over. Part of me suspected it wasn’t a coincidence, but the rest of me was having too much fun watching to give it any thought.



Angela pulled herself off me and watched, entranced, as commingled lubrication and jism glistened along the entire length of my deflating manhood. She reached out to grasp me, but I shooed her away.



“Go easy on an old man! You don’t want to break it, do you?”



“More,” she pleaded, with the air of a five-year-old in a candy store.



I couldn’t help laughing. “We’ll see! First, I’d like to see more of you.”



Angela stood without artifice, but with innate grace, and faced me. She pulled the shirt over her head and tossed it to the floor. A toss of her head arranged her hair behind her shoulders, and she was already removing the simple cotton bra she wore.



My mouth went dry looking at her. I knew what Angela looked like fully clothed, but some women were expert at using garments to accentuate their good points and obscure those that weren’t so good. She hadn’t struck me as that type, but it was clear her body didn’t need any help at all in that regard. I didn’t know how I was going to do it, but I wasn’t going to end the night at this point!



I stood up, and discovered my pants were still puddled around my ankles. Happy I’d worn loafers, I managed to free my feet without killing myself. A few steps brought me within reach of Angela. Gingerly, I reached out to cup a breast; it was warm, soft, and I felt the nipple erect itself against the palm of my hand. Angela’s lips parted in an unaspirated sigh, and her body melted against mine. Well, against my flannel shirt and cardigan, anyway.



“Damn shirt,” I muttered, and withdrew my hand to start unbuttoning it.



Angela brushed my hands gently aside. “Let me,” she offered. Her fingers were deft, and didn’t miss a single opportunity to touch and stroke my body. When she finished peeling my undershirt over my head, we were pressed against each other with our outstretched arms entwined.



My cock was thinking about rising to the occasion a third time. I left it to fend for itself, sandwiched against a toned hip, and pulled Angela tighter against me. I kissed her again, and this time she reacted passively, parting her lips and allowing my tongue to explore her mouth as I chose.

Agatha had had a shit day at work.



“Fuck you, Charles.” she said out loud as she strode in through the front door, kicked off her shoes, tossed her jacket and dropped down dejectedly on to the cream sofa in the living room. All Agatha wanted was a good hard distraction fuck, and he had the audacity to be on holiday with his family.



Agatha was relatively tall with short spiky hair. She was a little heavier than she would have liked to have been at 34, but loved the feeling of her heavy tits so didn’t overly concern herself with the numbers. She had a few tattoos and far too many earrings, but none of them were a big deal for her office job. Her skin was pale and well moisturised, and she loved getting fucked hard.



Agatha sighed aloud theatrically and leant over to the decorative box on the large wooden bookshelf next to the sofa.



She smiled a little as she pulled out a fat hot pink dildo and confidently predicted feeling better within a few minutes.



She raised the fitted t-shirt she had been wearing all day and lifted her breasts out of their bra cups, keeping the bra on. With her large round tits and small nipples exposed, she scooted out of her black pencil skirt and kicked off her cobalt blue lacy knickers. She loved having her tits out but her top still partially on like the girls in the porn films. The black hold ups could stay on, she decided.



Agatha leant back into the sofa spreading her stockinged legs apart from her hips, rubbing the tip of the fake cock over her clit. She used her left hand to spread her pussy lips as wide as possible, mimicking the stretching she wished Charles’s dick was giving her. Agatha enjoyed variety with her bush and today it was a hairier than usual. She often preferred it shaved, but wanted to save that for the next time she had Charles inside her. Plus there was something kind of hot about watching the thick dildo disappearing into a hairy slit.



As her clit started to swell from the attention, she felt her hole moistening and alternated clit rubs with dipping the dildo head into her cunt. At first it wouldn’t go anywhere near fully entering her, but with a few minutes of persistence, she had most of the thick shaft slipping in and out of her pussy.



Agatha lived alone and could afford a few moans alongside her open display. She could hear the dildo being guzzled by her tight wet snatch and slurping when it was removed and she found herself turned on by the sounds. She occasionally pulled the cock up to lick her own liquid off the warm wet shaft, thinking that the last time she tasted herself it had been on Charles’ tongue.



She pulled hard on a nipple occasionally during the shafting but it really wasn’t enough. When someone else fucked her, she could reasonably expect two hands on her heavy breasts, or one hand and a mouth, meaning her prominent nipples got the attention they needed to bring her off. Agatha made a mental note to buy herself some nipple clamps for the next time she had to fuck herself.



She continued pulling the dildo out all the way and slamming it back in up to its fake balls, whilst fantasising about Charles. It felt good, but nowhere near as good as the real thing. Agatha thought about filming her slippery gash swallowing up the toy for Charles to see what she was reduced to when he was away, but she wasn’t sure he’d be overly impressed… Shame.



Agatha rubbed her now very swollen clit with a finger as the toy continued to stretch her hole. She imagined it was Charles’s tongue against her whilst the dildo split her wide open. He was definitely going to try that at some point in the future.



A few more strokes of her proud clit and Agatha was about to come hard around the fake dick. She pumped it fast in and out of her cunt whilst flicking herself off and could feel the hard spasms from inside trying push the dildo out. She slowed the flicks as her orgasm subsided and she lifted the cock, now sticky with her cum, on to her belly below her hanging tits. She felt momentarily relaxed, but saddened that she wasn’t filled with Charles’s spunk.



Damn you and your fucking holidays, Charles.



***



From: Agatha



To: Charles



Subject: Order: One fat cock with a side of spunk



Hey Charles,



Hope you had a great holiday, but things have been dull here without you.



I need your dick, a hard fucking and your spunk all over my titties (not necessarily in that order).



You can eat me out too, whilst I moan about how hot you are. This is optional though, the first part is mandatory.



Fancy it? Email me a time that suits you and your lingerie preferences if so.



Yours, damp of panty in anticipation,



Agatha



***



From: Charles




To: Agatha



Subject: Re: Order: [Redacted]



Oh for fuck’s sake Agatha, you know this is my personal email account.



Make it satin, slutty and suitable for sucking.



Charles.



***



Charles had his own key so let himself in at the allotted time. He paused for a few seconds inside the door when there was no response to his call then decided to sit himself down on the cream sofa.



Agatha came down the stairs not long thereafter wearing a short silk dressing gown with stockings and suspenders peeking out from the bottom. The visible lingerie was white, and the gown itself white with a floral print. As she walked across the room, the jiggling of the mounds under the gown indicated that there was no structural integrity to whatever bra was under there. Feeling her tits bounce turned Agatha on and she felt her cunt getting even damper than it had been in anticipation.



As Agatha reached Charles she leaned in and pushed him back against the sofa. She stood astride his legs and opened her gown so that he got a view directly at crotch level.



His eyes travelled up and were met with a split cup silken bra that was really two fabric triangles with a gap for Agatha’s hard nipples. Given the size of her titties it was a bit of a token effort, but not a bad one.



Moving down there was another small triangle covering her slit, again white and this time sheer with her enthusiasm. He raised a hand to rub her snatch roughly and pulled away damp fingers smelling of clean yet very horny cunt.



Shit, he wanted to fuck her now, but she pushed down on his shoulders making it clear that wasn’t going to happen.



Someone went on holiday and now someone was going to come in their pants to pay for it, he suspected.



Agatha angled her pussy towards Charles and he continued to rub her through the panties, eliciting moans and grinding of her hips. Getting to the point where the panties were about to get swallowed up in the friction, he pushed them to one side and slipped a thick manicured finger into her slit.



Agatha fucking loved being fingered, and watching this shave headed man beneath her restricted to slipping a wet finger inside her pussy as her fat tits jiggled near his face made Agatha grin.



Charles slipped in a second finger, and Agatha dropped a hand to rub her clit right in front of him. He could smell her pussy and his hand growing damp as she writhed around his fingers.



Suddenly Agatha stood fully up, pulling away from his hand. She dropped the gown to the ground and started to open Charles’s button fly. He really hoped he was about to get head, but wasn’t counting on it. He had been on holiday. Without her.



Agatha freed his stiff cock but instead of instantly licking its hot head as she normally did, knelt before him and placed a heavy breast on either side. Her tits remained mostly covered by the bra, but the split cups left her nipple and part of each areola bursting out. the silky fabric sat partially between her breasts, giving their travel up and down Charles’s sensitive shaft an unusual texture. She bounced up and down a little on her knees shaking his thick cock with firm heavy tits, looking up at him as she did.



Charles hadn’t historically been a big fan of the tit wank, but this wasn’t bad.



Next up was lube to change the texture. Agatha rubbed a little into the canyon between her titties and dropped them down around Charles’s cock. She mashed her tits hard around his dick pressing them into the sides as she rhythmically slid them up and down. Combining this with a lack of fucking for Charles in two weeks and she was soon close to the target. Charles uttered an indication that he was about to shoot his wad and Agatha leant down, aiming his load into her mouth, around her chin and onto her breasts. Charles obliged, hard.



Agatha licked the creamy remainder off her lips and chin and looked up at a panting Charles. She’d missed his spunk, but he still owed her two weeks’s worth of fucking…



Agatha decided to entertain herself and give Charles a show whilst he was recovering enough to stick his cock inside her.



Agatha took herself over to the cream leather recliner where she had previously stashed the dildo. She turned back to Charles, unhooking the flimsy bra and releasing her heavy titties fully as it dropped. Her chest was still oily and she absent-mindedly rubbed the residual oil over her now-puffy nipples whilst Charles looked on. That had them hardening up again and she pulled them skywards before letting them drop.



She let down her pathetic excuse for knickers and flung the wet fabric at Charles. He responded by sucking the silk as his eyes remained on her body.



Sitting back into the chair, Agatha spread her hips as wide as she could, her stockinged legs over the arms of the chair. Boldly displaying her smooth shaven cunt to Charles, her clit was already swollen from the foreplay. Her pink pussy glistened along with her nips as she reached over for the dildo, Charles watched the light bouncing off them.



Agatha was far more of a dirty slut than Charles could ever have realised, he thought. He thought she might be up for a drunken snog, but this was far beyond what he thought of the girl he knew from work. At 49, he expected his cock to take a while to recover, but she seemed to have an effect on him (could it be desire?) that meant it wouldn’t be much longer now.



Agatha began the alternating of her clit and gash that caused her tits to bounce and her head to go back, exposing all of her long neck. Under her stockings were two silver ankle bracelets, a gift from her trip with Charles.



Charles was no longer able to stay away from the show, and walked over to bite a breast and kiss the side of her neck. Agatha moaned even louder, reaching out to see if his cock was ready for her yet.



It was getting there, and continued to do so as she pumped him with one fist. Charles took the dildo from her, forcing it in repeatedly with a brutish action. Charles then bent down, removing Agatha’s hand from him and knelt before her. He placed the tip of his tongue square on her slippery clit as he continued to pump her hard with the dildo.



Agatha’s moaning and rocking of her hips suggested this was having the expected effect on her, and also gave him good view of her cunt being stretched out by the cock if he sat back for a moment. There was something very hot about watching her penetrated at this angle, but by now, Agatha was pleading for Charles’ dick, not a poor imitation.



Agatha wasn’t going to get the penetration she expected however. Charles could build plans whilst on holiday too…



He pulled the dildo out of Agatha’s hole and pushed the tip up into her mouth to lick clean. Agatha obeyed. Once she was done, Charles removed it and kissed Agatha hard – their first kiss this meeting



Pulling Agatha’s hand he led her down onto the cream shagpile carpet (no pun intended). Agatha knelt on all fours with her hole tilted up for him to fuck her. Doggystyle, she expected, as they had both always enjoyed.



Fill her he did, but not with his cock. Charles inserted the dildo hard into her dripping slit and left it there whilst fondling her hanging titties. He pulled down on the nipples that were pointed downwards now leaving Agatha moaning with delight.



His right hand came away reaching for the lube and a little was drizzled over Agatha’s ass before she knew what was happening.



Charles massaged her butt cheeks until they were slick, venturing a finger into her butt hole occasionally. Agatha moaned and steeled herself for what was coming next as Charles lubed his cock. Making sure the dildo was still filling her cunt, Charles rested his rock hard knob at the entrance to Agatha’s ass. He proceeded very gently into her with small rocking movements, stretching her ass alongside her cunt.



“Fuck me in the ass with your thick cock” was all Agatha could come up with. She regretted it immediately – not very erudite. The warm spreading sensation of her ass was all she could focus on right now though. It was a little sore, but awesome at the same time.



Charles, never a man of many words, didn’t say anything.



He was loving this filth, his cock was clenched so tight with every thrust that he felt great. That was about the size of it.



The gentle bursts increased his depth and soon he was rocking Agatha’s ass. He would occasionally reach down and pump the dildo, leaving her moaning even harder, and altering the sensation against his cock inside her.



Agatha couldn’t take much more when Charles moved a hand around to rub her clit, her pussy and ass exploding in a huge orgasm. Agatha’s butt clenching him even tighter left Charles shooting his cum into her ass with very little warning. As both of them finished their spasms, Charles pulled the dildo out of Agatha’s cunt and she felt his spent cock slide out of her ass at the same time.



As they stood kissing, Charles’ spunk started to leak out of her ass and down the inside of her stocking. Agatha loved the sensation of its warm stickiness dripping, knowing that this was the result of making Charles come.



“Fuck, Charles, you should go on holiday more often.”

Chapter 1 – Fulfilling people’s desires…



Brooke is a college student and probably the black girl of your dreams. Huge tits, perfect round butt, unbelievable curves, long black hair and a sexy smile on her face. She has a delicious body and she knows how to use it. But this lady won’t tease you and take advantage of you. She will please you and submit to your nastiest desires…







The alarm clock was ringing loudly as I woke up after a few hours of sleep. Sleeping with your hands tied with handcuffs on the bed’s headboard, is definitely not the ideal way to rest. I was feeling my arms so cramped as I managed to reach the key with my lips. I quickly untied myself and got up. I couldn’t be late this evening, or else…



I was very anxious, wondering what’s going to happen tonight, as I walked into the bathroom. I never noticed the big butt plug up my ass until I had to pee. It must had been left in there since last night and I wasn’t feeling it stretching my tight little asshole. It popped out when I pulled it, leaving my asshole wide open. “I’m a really big slut…” I thought. I always feel like that after a long night full of sex. Sometimes I don’t even remember what happened. But then I become horny again and with my pussy all wet, I just can’t stop thinking of my next adventure.



I took a bath and applied lotion all over my body. Back to my bedroom were the clothes I was ordered to wear for tonight’s occasion. A black lacey thong, pink fishnet stockings, an extremely short black leather skirt, a pink see through top, and a pair of 6” high heel sandals with ankle straps. “Oh no, I ‘ll totally look like a cheap slut with those on.” I thought. Yet I had no choice but to put them on. I also put on some makeup, mascara, eye shadow, lipstick and brushed my hair. Ready just on time as the door opened.



“Honeyyy, I’m back. You better be ready.”



That was my stepdad. He is always very strict with me. Whenever I don’t obey his rules, there’s a rough punishment waiting for me. He had ordered me to dress up and be ready before he had returned home.



I quickly walked downstairs, being very careful not to trip and fall in those high heels.



“Yes daddy, I’m ready.”



He came up to me and examined my body up and down.



“Mmm, I see you did a great job Brooke, good girl.”



“Dad, what’s up for tonight? Why did you have me dress up like this?”



“That’s a surprise my little Brooke. You ‘ll find out at the right time. The only thing that you need to know is that tonight you ‘ll have to do whatever they ask you, got it?” He said, as he gently slapped my face with his hand.



Then he brought in a big box and opened it. He took out two pairs of leather handcuffs with which he tied my hands behind my back and my legs. He put a ball gag in mouth, and a blindfold on my eyes. I was totally unable to move, speak or see what was going on, as he grabbed me and put me into the box. He closed it, wrapped it all over and tied a red ribbon around it.



“Ok, guys come on in, you can take it now. You remember the address I gave you right?”



“Yes sir. We ‘ll have it delivered within 30 minutes.”



The two men had no idea what was in the box. They carried it and placed it carefully into the lorry. Then they started the engine and drove all the way to deliver the package. Inside the box I could feel every bump and I was so wet trying to realise what was happening and what’s about to happen.



It all started last night, when my stepdad had called home for dinner his boss and his wife. I was asked to join them and be very polite and elegant, showing off my well manners and lovely personality.



“Make sure you won’t dress like a slut and try to be nice with my boss and his wife. Don’t even think of teasing him like you do with all those guys you meet, his wife is so jealous.”



So I tried to be good. I was wearing a short blue dress, a pair of black stockings, a silk blue thong and stiletto high heels. I was even wearing a bra, so my hard pierced nipples wouldn’t be noticed under the thin fabric of my dress.



However, my stepdad’s boss couldn’t keep his eyes off me. He was even stroking my thighs with his hand under the table during dinner, and he was always asking me about life in college and the guys I was hanging out with. I didn’t say anything as he kept doing this all night. His wife seemed quite annoyed by the situation. He should be more careful since they would have their wedding anniversary the other day.



Despite that, the dinner went quite well and the couple left pleased. But my stepdad wasn’t pleased with me. Not at all actually.



“I told you not to be provocative, didn’t I? I noticed everything, you fucking slut. Your eyes full of lust, and I could even smell your wet cunt. Not to mention your outfit! Maybe the next time I’ll tell you to dress properly, you’ll come naked, you horny bitch!”



“Dad, I never wanted to…”



“Shut your dirty little mouth! This time I’m going to teach you a lesson you won’t forget.”



He said and slapped my face so hard I almost passed out. Then he grabbed my hair and dragged me up to his bedroom. Everything was happening so fast… He tore my dress apart, sat on the bed and made me bend over his knees. Holding his leather belt on his hand, he kept whipping my ass harder and harder. My asscheeks quickly turned red and began to sting. I started to cry. The pain was unbearable.



“Please daddy stop, no more please, no…”



“You fucking whore! You want me to stop?”



“Yes daddy, please stop.”



“I said I would give you a lesson and I will!”



He whipped my ass a couple of times more and pushed me down to the floor. I knew my punishment wasn’t over yet.



“Now bitch, you ‘ll learn what real pain is. You ‘ll never defy me again!”



He took his pants off, letting his huge cock free. It was like 10” big and you could see the veins on it. He grabbed my hair again and led his cock straight into my mouth. Holding my hair tight, he was pushing all the way in and out, making me suck it deep and gag. I was allowed to breathe for less than a second and then his cock would be deep in my throat again.



When he thought I had had enough of him in my mouth, he took his cock out and slapped my face with it, leaving his precum on my cheeks.



Then he put me down on all fours and shoved his cock deep inside my ass. No lube. No preparation. No warning. I was unable to move or speak from the shock. It felt so painful, as he was ramming my asshole hard. That was my real punishment. He was pulling my hair and slapping my asscheeks while fucking me. I was having the roughest fucking of my life and he made sure that the pain would be far greater than the pleasure I was getting from it. I was praying for this to end soon. Suddenly he pulled off his cock and shot his thick cum all over my face.



“I hope that from now on you’ll start to behave properly.”



He led me to the bed and tied my hands with handcuffs on the headboard. He looked at my pussy dripping wet and my asshole wide open from the fucking. Then took a butt plug and pushed it in.



“This will close up this hole for now. I’ll let you sleep for a while, but tomorrow I want you to make up for all you did tonight. I’ll leave you the necessary instructions. Make sure you follow them and be ready when I return from work.”



Feeling faint and weak, I quickly fell asleep. He set the alarm and left.



My mind suddenly returned back to the present while I felt the box moving. The delivery had been finished.



“Please sign here Mr Jones. Thank you.”



My stepdad’s boss, David, received the box and took it into the house.



“Hey Stacey, look what they sent us. I wonder what’s inside…”



He quickly unwrapped it and opened it.



“OMG it’s Brooke from last night! What a sexy outfit and she’s all tied up, gagged and blindfolded! What does that mean? Oh, wait a second, there’s a little notice here.”



“Happy Anniversary Stacey and David! Please accept this gift from me. She will please you all night long.”



“What an awesome gift this is! Look honey we got a special fucktoy for our special night.”



He grabbed my arm and pulled me out of the box. Then took off the blindfold and the ball gag.



“Mmm, I don’t know David, this girl is such a slut…”



“That’s why it’s going to be amazing! Do you want to play with us tonight, sexy?”



“Y-Yes sir.” I was so embarrassed being sent as a fucking sex toy to some strangers.



“Look Stacey, our little Brooke is so shy… Haha, but you can’t hide your arousal young lady. You want it so much isn’t that right?”



He put his hand under my skirt and reached my soaked thong.



“OMG she’s horny as hell!”



“Hey David look there’s another box here, a smaller one. It’s full of sex toys.”



“Let’s not waste any more time, honey. I’ll take her to our bedroom, you go and prepare yourself.”



He didn’t mind to take off my leather handcuffs, yet he put a spiky collar on my neck and pulled me all the way upstairs with a leash. He even took the chance to make fun of me.



“You must love being a fucking slave, don’t you Brooke? I bet that if I had you tied up here, spanking your ass hard, you would say “thank you master” and beg for more, isn’t that right?”



I should deny that, but I couldn’t. He was absolutely right. I was a dirty little slut, who loved some good fucking, and it was very pretty obvious to him.



“Now make your master happy bitch, suck my cock deep, make it hard.”



He took off my handcuffs and held me from the leash. I took his cock in my hands and started rubbing it slowly and licking it all over. It didn’t actually need any sucking, as his cock was hard as rock already. He wanted to have me since last night, when he first met me.



I was sucking his cock slowly, deeper and deeper. Then I would pull off and suck his balls. My eyes were meeting his eyes, full of lust and appreciation. I treated his cock as it deserved, making it red and hard, ready to fuck the shit out of me.



Then Stacey showed up wearing a sexy police officer costume.



“These people are quite kinky.” I thought.



“Hands up everybody, police is here!”



She came up to me and grabbed my hair.



“So you like to seduce married men and suck their cocks you little whore, huh?”



“I didn’t… H-He asked me to do this, madam officer.”



“Shut up you fucking whore, you ‘re under arrest.”



She slapped me on the face and put a ball gag on my mouth. Then she took a pair of handcuffs from her belt and tied my hands to the bed. After that she moved to David.



“Now you two are going to obey me and make me happy, otherwise you ‘ll be very sorry, got that?”



“Yes madam.”



“Good. Now go and fuck her pussy hard, make her feel your cock deep inside her.”



David came behind me and slowly removed my see through top, my leather skirt, my bra and thong.



“You hand this over to me.”



He handed over my black lacey thong to her. It was soaked with my juices.



“Mmm, now my husband will give you what you want so much, you horny bitch.”



Then David pushed his cock in my pussy and started fucking me hard. He was holding me with one hand and with the other he was rubbing my clit. It felt so fucking great. He gradually increased the speed and the power of his thrusts. Stacey was sitting on an armchair, holding my wet thong, smelling it and playing with her clit, while looking at her husband ramming my pussy at the same time.



David pinched my nipples and gave my asscheeks a few slaps as he was about to cum. Then he pulled out and finished on my chest. Stacey came above me and licked every drop of his cum.



“Take a little rest David, I ‘ll take care of her now.”



She took off her shirt and put her huge tits on my face. She sat on my chest, lifting her skirt and removed the ball gag from my mouth. While leaning back she rubbed my clit with her hand. I was licking her clit with my tongue slowly and steady. If I was doing it right, she would rub my clit more and more. Her pussy was all wet, her juices were dripping into my mouth, I was loving every moment of it. David was standing nearby, playing with his cock which had become hard again. Suddenly Stacey got up and went to the bathroom.



A moment later she returned. I noticed a strange bulge under her mini skirt. She came close to me and as she lifted her skirt up, I saw the monster. She was wearing a huge strapon cock and it was coming straight into my mouth.



My lips stretched wide as she put it into my mouth. She pushed it deep but didn’t left it in there for long. She just wanted to make it wet before driving it into my pussy.



Stacey stretched my pussy wide open with her hands and shoved her big strapon cock inside. I was moaning loud while the rubber beast was fucking the shit out of me. Having my legs wide open for her, I was biting my lips, so as not to shout it loud :



“Yes, yes, more please, fuck my pussy. Yes, deeper please, yeah that’s it, fuck my pussy!”



I soon had an extreme orgasm. Stacey smiled at me and pulled off. She took off the strapon cock and her skirt. Wearing only a pair of stiletto high heels she walked to David. He was totally naked and his big cock was hard again.



“Now it’s my turn David, let’s fuck like animals.”



She lied on the floor over a rug made of fur and he lied above her. He kissed her lips deep and she kissed him back passionately. She opened her legs for him as he slid his big cock in her pussy. Her arms around his head and his hands touching every part of her body, while his cock was fucking her pussy slowly.



He pinched her nipples and rubbed her clit. She was moaning loud. He put her legs on his shoulders and fucked her deeper and harder. They were about to cum any moment from now. Then David grabbed her throat hard with his big hands, choking her, and fucked her as hard as never before. He came inside her wife’s pussy and she had a big orgasm too. They lied down next to each other, driven in heaven with pleasure.



“Oh David…”



“Mmm happy anniversary my love.”



“It was the best anniversary ever and that gift was amazing.”



“I forgot about her. What should I do with her now?”



“We don’t need her anymore, just get rid of her.”



“It’s too late to drive her back home.”



“Just leave her at her college. She can find the way herself. Then come back here, so we can have another round.”



Stacey went to the bathroom, while David put some clothes on. He untied me and quickly led me to his car. He drove me to the college and pulled me out of the car.



“David, wait. We forgot my clothes.”



“Damn, I don’t have the time for it now.”



The campus was empty. He grabbed my leash and led me to a tree, where he tied my hands.



“What are you doing? You can’t leave me here naked.”



“Don’t worry it’s too dark they won’t see you. I’ll bring your clothes tomorrow morning.”



“No. Don’t leave me here”



“Shut up.”



He put the ball gag on my mouth again, got back in the car and drove all the way home, leaving me helpless.

Authors note: This story takes place about a year before chapter 1, the story of John and Maggie’s meeting, and eventually first time. Thank you to everyone who has patiently awaited this chapter. If you’re looking for a quick sex story, skip to the end.



*



John opened the door to the optical office and its little bells clanked against the door, sighing to himself for leaving his glasses on his bed during his nap yesterday. His alone time on Tuesday afternoon was disrupted.



“I’ll be with you in a just a minute, sir,” came a woman’s voice at a nearby desk. She was helping a young girl get fitted for her first pair of glasses.



John followed the sound of the voice to a sweet brunette in her mid twenties and exchanged smiles with her. “Sure,” he said roaming to the excess of men’s eyewear on the wall. He didn’t need new glasses but there isn’t much to do to pass time in the optician’s office.



He looked over at the desk from afar, specifically at the store associate, sneaking little glances as she giggled with the young girl. The optician showed the little blonde girl the mirror, “You’ll be rockin’ at school now,” she said.



The optician was sexy in the girl next-door sort of way. A woman who would bake for you and blow you while her delectable treats were in the oven. She was young, later mid twenties, but old enough to have seen the world and develop her life. She wasn’t terribly young, but compared to himself at thirty-eight, its was an acceptable age difference.



John tried not to stare and occupied himself as if he were picking out a pair of glasses. He tried on a few pairs that he couldn’t really waste money on with the mouths to feed at home. His ears listened to her voice, soft with a slight hint of southern twang, as she went over insurance information with the mother.



He was able to glimpse at her in the mirror when he was trying on frames. Her lavender blouse continued to draw his eye. She was professionally buttoned up, not flaunting her cleavage, but his mind strayed to where that small strip of skin led.



He fumbled to put back a pair of glasses on the back light wall, distracted by the sales girl’s alluring smile. His eyes were drawn to her glossed lips and pearly whites. He casually slipped his glasses back on his face and rubbed his mouth trying to sidetrack his thoughts, “Sloppy Joes, or spaghetti for dinner…”



As he stole peeks at the woman his glasses kept sliding off his face, reminding him why he was here.



The associate got up with the girl and her mother and led them to the register. Her movements drew John’s attention; he quickly admired her dark purple skirt that hugged her hips and thighs, flaring out around her knees.



While walking behind the counter, she looked over at her waiting customer, “What can I help you with today, sir?” she asked.



“Just an adjustment, take your time,” John said pleasantly. He wasn’t rushed from being in the presence of a striking younger woman.



She smiled back to him, genuinely thankful for his courtesy.



She went about her work, explaining the forms to the girl’s mother and paying her out. He watched how she interacted with her customers. Gracefully, was the only adjective that came to mind.



Her brown hair danced lightly just below her shoulders in soft layers. Her breasts gave the chest of her blouse a bit of a snug fit. He didn’t mind. It made her curves stand out even more.



He shook off his thoughts; he still had to talk to this woman. He saw her smile a cheesy grin with the little girl and thank them for their business. It might be because he hadn’t been properly laid in nearly a month, but he couldn’t help but ogle the features of this stranger.



“Let me see if I can fix those glasses for you,” she said kindly.



“I left them on my bed and one of my kids thought it would be fun to jump into bed to wake me up from my nap,” he said with an uncomfortable chuckle, approaching the counter.



The associate raised a brow and smiled, “Your kids attack you while you’re resting? That is so unlike anything I’ve ever heard about kids,” she teased him. “Well, let me have a look and see what I can do.”



She looked him over quickly. A man in his late thirties, some grey speckling in his brown hair, good height, his nose was large but it fit his strong features, and pretty darn handsome in a black sweater-vest, gray shirt, and tie. “Well hello there, handsome,” she thought to herself.



He came up to the front of the counter and took his glasses off his face, thanking God his vision wasn’t terrible and he could still look at the sales girl. He handed his spectacles to her and squinted at her etched silver name-tag, “Thanks, Maggie.”



“You’re welcome, sir,” she said looking at the bent earpieces. “I’m going to use the heat and bend these back into shape for you. I do have glasses, just wearing contacts today. You can trust me,” she winked.



Maggie smiled as John chuckled at her comment and turned around. She took a few short steps to the machine and turned it on, as she walked her hips swayed gently.



John got a slightly fuzzy, but good look at her legs for the first time, he looked down to her nude stockinged calves, “Are those stockings or pantyhose?” he wondered.



Maggie bent over just a bit as she used the machine, the slit on the back of her skirt opened up and he got a glimpse of lace stocking tops on her thighs. “Stockings! Fucking goldmine!” his inner voice screamed.



Suddenly his mind was invaded with visions of her bent over the counter and him plowing her from behind with her skirt pulled up over her hips. She continued working and he fantasized about the color of her bra and panties, if she was a moaner, if she talked dirty, and if she was wearing garters.



Maggie felt his eyes on her; enjoying the attention, she smiled to herself. She purposely bent over a little further and arched her back just a little bit more than she needed to. Her ass lifted up in the air for him, nonchalantly drawing more attention to her as she bent the earpieces back into proper shape.



His heart sped up a little and he closed his eyes, committing the view of her curved ass and hips to memory. His mouth had gone dry as he admired her body.



John’s collar felt tighter around his neck, his mind running rapid as he waited patiently, and his cock stirring under his black slacks. He imagined pulling on her brunette mane and spanking that round bum as he fucked her juicy pussy. He wanted to fuck her on top of the counter, her legs pulled back so he could dig deep into her holes, her lavender heels above her head.



He wanted to fuck this young woman properly, ravaging her body and make her scream. His cock was swollen and strained against his slacks. He wanted to do things to her he could never get from his wife.



Maggie turned around and John coughed. She smiled a knowing smile, blushing a little. “You should be all set, lets take a look at these on your face first,” she said a bit flustered, giggling at herself.



John leaned over a bit and let her slide his glasses onto his face, closing eyes to clear his thoughts. Maggie bit her lip in concentration sliding her fingertips along his temples, setting the earpieces behind his ears.



His nostrils opened, breathing in her scent as she moved in closer. She smelled like pure and clean soap. No fruit or flowery scents, just honest soap. She smelled natural, heavenly and intoxicating. He looked down for a moment and caught a glimpse of her breasts underneath her shirt, pushed up in her bra with shiny black satin cups. His inner voice praising the view as her soft, delicate hands adjusted the glasses carefully on his face.



“Look at me,” Maggie said taking her hands away from his face.



John cleared his throat, thinking he’d been caught looking. He raised his soft green eyes to hers. The hazel of her eyes was a gentle blend of brown and green. He found himself lost in them.



“Sorry,” he said, blushing.



Maggie smirked, “Nothing to be sorry for, I just need to make sure they fit properly.”



“Oh, oh, yes, of course,” John held still as she looked over the frames. He blinked a few times and took a few glances around at random places, feeling his eyes readjust slightly.



“Would you like me to clean these for you, too?” she asked and rubbed her glossed lips together. She gently pulled them off his face before he could answer and reached for a bottle of lens cleaning spray.



“That would be fantastic, thank you,” he smiled.



Maggie sprayed the lenses and picked up a cloth, her arms squeezed her breasts together as she cleaned his glasses. John couldn’t help but ogle her cleavage line that came further up her chest. He imagined what her tits would look like painted with his cum.



She handed him his glasses back with an innocent smile, “Anything else you need today, sir?”



“No, thank you, Maggie,” he said slipping his glasses on and blinking at the clarity. “You don’t have to call me sir, I’m John. John Gottschalk, or Professor Gottschalk on my better days.”



Maggie smiled and chewed her lip for a moment, twirling a brown lock on her finger. “Professor Gottschalk,” she said with a slight bow of her head, “well, it’s been my pleasure.”



He looked at her eyes one more time before leaving, she looked so innocent, but under he wondered what filthy rotten things she hides. “Thank you very much, have a great evening,” he said calmly.



“You too. If you need anything else, we’ll be here.” she said smiling.



John turned and left the office feeling giddy. His lips were curled into a huge grin and his mind was filled with fantasies of the cute, young optician. He could still feel her hands touching his face and her aroma in his nostrils. She flirted with him, gave him that bit of attention that no one could take away from him, something he’d been lacking for the past while at home.



He headed home and took a quick shower before his wife got back. While soaping up he let his mind run free with the image of Maggie pleasuring him. He stroked himself to the thought of enjoying her body in the shower. His imagination ran wild, with her on her knees, his cock in between in her pouty lips, hot water running down his back. He wanted to push her up against the tile wall and thrust in and out of her, feeling her limbs wrapped around him, the steam from the hot water filling the air. He imagined shooting his load into her cunt. Instead, his load was wasted, pulled apart by the current of the hot water and jettisoned down the drain.



As days passed, Maggie continued to think about her customer. She spent her downtime at work daydreaming of him. She knew he was married. She saw his ring and he talked about his children. “There’s nothing wrong with some innocent flirtation, right?” was one of many thoughts in her head.



Saturday night, John got an urgent phone call to go to an early season Chicago Blackhawks game. John convinced his wife to let him go have a guy’s night. He took this opportunity and went out for a night of beer and hockey with his good buddy William. Between the first and second period, they got overpriced beer refills out on the concourse. As the men made their way to their seats, they checked out women in the arena walking by in heels that aren’t meant for sporting events. They joked with each other about John’s wife giving him a hard time about going out tonight as they sat back down.



John and William took their seats in the eighth row from the ice. They were stationed above the penalty boxes.



Early into the second period, the Blackhawks scored and the crowd rose up in jubilation. Unfortunately, one of William’s wayward arms collided with John’s refreshing beverage. He stared out in horror as his entire beer rained down upon the woman one row in front of him.



The woman screeched, cold beer soaking her shoulder to her stomach. She quickly turned around, her brown hair swishing through the air. She glared at him for soaking her shirt, “What the hell?”



The Fratelli’s “Chelsea Dagger” blared on in the background as John’s cup spun to a stop at his feet.



“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” John yelled quickly.



The woman lowered her glare as she recognized him at the same time he did for her.



“Oh, Maggie?!” he asked nervously, trying to rise above the sudden din of the crowd. The woman he had imagined naked countless times in the last few days right in front of him.



The joyous crowd finally quieted down for John and Maggie to talk.



“I’m so sorry,” he fumbled to find the extra napkins he stashed for his nachos earlier. “I’m so sorry, please let me buy you a new shirt or something. I’m so sorry, you don’t deserve to be soaked all night,” he said, noticing her wet chest and the apparent lines of her bra underneath her black t-shirt as he handed her the napkins.



Maggie blotted the stain on her shirt, getting a hint of butterflies; she blushed for no other reason. “Yeah, I don’t really want to smell like beer the rest of the evening.”



“Are you okay?” Maggie’s girl friend asked.



“Yeah, yeah I’m fine. This is John, he came into the office earlier this week,” she introduced her friend to the man that had been occupying her thoughts, “John, this is Liz.”



John nodded and smiled, “Nice to meet you Liz, sorry it’s because I soaked your friend.”



William cleared his throat, wanting to get in on the conversation between his friend and two pretty young women. His eyes focused on Liz. She was blonde and petite with delicious curves that hugged the hips of her jeans and the chest of her red Blackhawks shirt.



“This is my buddy William. This is Maggie; she adjusted my glasses this week, and her friend, Liz.”



William took note of Maggie’s bubbly blonde friend with a smile of appreciation. Liz batted her eyelashes flirtatiously as she was introduced.



“Come on, let’s get you a new shirt. I told my kids I’d buy them something tonight, anyway,” John said.



Maggie stood up, her shirt half wet with beer and her medium wash boot-cut jeans hugged her bum. John raised a brow and smiled, committing another vision to his memory. Both of them told their friends they’d be back shortly. Maggie followed John up the stairs of the loud arena, thinking about giving his ass a squeeze through his khakis. “You really don’t have to do this, I’ll be okay. I was joking about smelling like beer,” she said as they entered into the concourse area.



They walked next to each other on the way to the souvenir shop. “I know I don’t have to. But I’m a gentleman,” he smiled.



“A gentleman who wants a free wet t-shirt contest,” Maggie teased him.



She unconsciously grabbed his hand and stepped in front of him, leading him through a crowd of people. John was shocked; her hand was so soft and small fitting inside his palm. He grinned and took her lead, savoring the slight touch of another woman. She expertly darted in between standing lumps of people, tugging him behind.



Maggie blushed and pulled her hand out of his when they got through the crowd, “I’m sorry. I just didn’t want to lose you.”



“It’s quite all right, being led around by a pretty girl doesn’t happen often for me,” he said.



She smiled as he opened the door to the souvenir shop, thanking him with a bow as she passed inside.



“So you have kids, how old are they?” Maggie asked as she looked through the racks of women’s t-shirts.



John stayed closely behind admiring how she gracefully moved. “Three kids, ten, eleven, fourteen.”



Maggie looked over and raised a caramel brow, “Oh, I assumed younger from them jumping on your bed, like you said.” She pulled a shirt off the rack, looked at it carefully and put it back.



John chuckled, “Well, I lied. I rolled over my glasses, I thought it was a better story.” He picked up a standard red team logo shirt for his wife.



She shook her head and laughed, “I may have to report you to my manager!”



Maggie smirked and turned back to a set of shirts. She hummed softly as she picked out a dark grey fitted t-shirt with vibrant red and golden yellow diamonds in an argyle print and Chicago Blackhawks, printed in script at the breast.



“Ooh. This one’s cute,” she said softly, peeking over at him, wanting his approval.



He watched her pull the shirt off the rack and drape it over herself; grinning as he watched her.



Maggie looked at the price tag tucked far inside the collar of the shirt, grimacing a little. “It’s thirty-five dollars, that’s too much.”



“If that’s the one you like, get it. I think it will look good on you, and you can always remember me.”



She looked down at the shirt again and back at him, “Thank you. You are very kind, John.”



He hung on her words, the way she said his name wasn’t how he’d ever heard it before. Her tone gained eroticism when she said it and it turned him on. It might be the gentle southern charm in her voice that he wasn’t used to, “You’re not from here, are you?”



Maggie walked through the little store taking her time browsing, “That is correct,” she looked over at him, “I’m from Texas, moved here about two years ago when the company I work for opened a new store. Do I sound like a hick?”



“No. No, it’s very nice. You don’t sound like a hick at all,” John said, reassuring her. He looked at her feet as she browsed through the kids’ stuff, reaching up to pull something off a rack in her silver ballet flats. “Chicago is a long way from home, how was the move for you?”



Maggie stayed on her tip-toes, scanning through the shirts on the top rack, “It was hard at first when I didn’t know anyone. But I thought of it like an adventure.”



“We all need adventure in our lives,” John said, approving of her stretched legs and the contour of her bum.



“Do you have girls?” Maggie asked coming back down flat-footed.



John blinked a few times focusing again on the conversation. “Yeah, the older ones are girls.”



She pointed to a high rack for him to get something down from a higher up rack, a stylish black t-shirt with the noble Blackhawk’s logo faded. “They’d like those, I think.”



He reached up to take down two girls shirts, “I’d like you,” John’s mouth said before his brain could catch up.



He felt the heat rise on his cheeks as Maggie’s mouth dropped open in surprise, a shimmer of light on her silver tongue bead caught his eye.



Maggie fluttered her eyelashes trying to think of something to say. “Oh wow,” she gasped quietly.



John pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes for being blunt. Maggie’s lips kiss his cheek ever so lightly, sending warmth through his being.



“It’s okay,” she whispered then stepped back. “Let’s get something for your son.”



John nodded apologetically and held the shirt hangers on his fingers making his way to the novelties. Maggie followed close behind looking at posters. John rummaged through the mini hockey stick varieties.



“Does he have a favorite player? Or something more artsy like this ‘original six’ poster?” Maggie asked pulling out a tubed poster.



John smiled and settled on a hockey stick, “So am I going to tell my kids that this cute girl picked out all their souvenirs?” he teased her.



Maggie rolled her eyes playfully, “They will wonder how you suddenly got such good taste.” She handed him the poster and they walked to the register. While the cashier rang them up, they stayed quiet as Maggie and John exchanged a smile usually reserved for new couples. Then, he thanked the cashier and took his over-sized bag and gave Maggie the smaller one with her shirt inside.



They walked side by side until they neared the restroom. “I’m going to hop in there and change real quick,” she said.



“Of course, I’m going to grab a few more beers and I’ll meet you back here,” John answered.



Maggie headed off to the restroom to switch shirts and give her hair a quick brushing. John bought four beers and carried them in the holding tray. Maggie smiled as she came out seeing him coming up to her.

“That looks really good on you. I told you it would,” he smiled back and they went back down into the arena.



The Zamboni was cleaning the ice when they returned. Liz and William had chosen to sit next to each other on the lower row to watch the game together. John and Maggie filed into the upper row and sat down behind their friends.



John handed out the beers and Maggie tapped her friend on the shoulder and waved “hi,” as she sat next to her crush. Liz smiled and mouthed, pointing to William, “he’s cute.” Maggie winked and rested back into her seat.



They enjoyed their semi-alone time for a few minutes, sipping beer and talking while their friends took pleasure in each other’s company.



Maggie stayed close, leaning to her left but keeping enough distance. She felt oddly comfortable at his side, listening to his voice and her heart fluttered. “What do you teach?” she asked against his ear in the loud arena.



He leaned in against her earlobe and she closed her eyes as he told her about his career. “History. Early history, medieval is my specialty. Barbarians, the Crusades, Christianity in the middle ages, things of that nature,” John said.



“That’s sexy,” Maggie replied.



The Blackhawks scored again on a power play and the crowd rose up in cheer, breaking off their conversation. Shouting and singing ensued.



The uproar died down and both couples settled back down in their seats. Liz patted Maggie’s knee and giggled in a bubbly blonde sort of way and went back to her handsome “date.”



John leaned back, “Was that a joke?”



Maggie looked back at him as she slowly sank back in her chair. “What, you teaching history?” she asked.



John nodded taking a few gulps, finishing off his beer.



“Totally serious. There’s something very desirable about teachers,” she said quietly, making John lean in close to her mouth. “Professors specifically. You give the gift of knowledge and have a part in someone’s life. People respect you,” Maggie said as she trailed one finger lightly along his fingers on the armrest. “Professors are intelligent, dedicated and influential. I mean come on, how is that not sexy?”



John lifted his head and looked at his pretty, girl-next-door, fantasy woman, “You make it sound much better than it really is.”



Maggie shrugged and smiled, “I call it like I see it.”



The period ended quickly after and the fans celebrated a shut out win. William and John gave each other a “this is between us guys,” nod before escorting the ladies up the stairs and out of the arena. John picked up his souvenir bag and followed Maggie. The pairs parked on completely opposite sides so they said goodbye outside the gate.



“I really enjoyed spending some time with you,” Maggie said softly. “I guess I’ll see you around sometime.”



“If we’re lucky,” John said sadly. “I enjoyed myself too.”



He looked over at his unmarried friend occupied with Liz. He kissed Maggie’s cheek and she closed her eyes, appreciating the feel of his lips and goatee on her face.



He pulled back and blushed, “Goodnight.”



Maggie smiled, “Goodnight, John.”



They stepped away from each other and rounded up their friends. On the car ride home, Liz chatted about William, practically giving Maggie a rundown of everything about him. Maggie politely nodded, keeping things about John to herself as she listened to her friend.



When Maggie got home she stood in front of her full-length mirror, admiring her new shirt. She ran her hands down her curves and turned slightly to the slide. She looked at herself and her new shirt, “Something to remember you by,” she said to herself.



John was running wild in her thoughts. She was completely drawn to him after just a small amount of time spent together. “He’s married. He’s off limits. Don’t do anything stupid Maggie,” she kept telling herself.



Maggie pulled herself away from the mirror and pulled her shirt off her head, shaking her beer stained hair. She wore a shiny pink satin bra that stood out against her milky flesh as she undid her jeans and shimmied them down her hips, revealing her equally shiny pink panties. “I wonder what sorts of things he’d like,” she said out loud to herself, stepping out of her jeans.



Maggie walked across her nicely decorated bedroom. She had been quite happy with the soft purple walls. Her apartment was quant, but it was home. She sat down on the edge of her bed, leaning over to pull open the second drawer of the bamboo style nightstand. Inside were her toys, handcuffs, a few vibrators of various colors and styles and her vibrating tongue ring in its plush case.



She picked out a thin, curved rubbery plastic hot pink vibrator, the curve led to the bulbous head on the end. Then she turned the dial on the bottom to make sure the batteries still had juice. After she was satisfied she turned it off and set it in the middle of her bed.



She turned on the bedside lamp and leaned up on her knees to pull the light on the fan, turning it off. Once her room was pleasantly dimmed, she reached behind her back unclasping her bra and dropped it on her mattress. Maggie laid back on her queen size bed, settling into her pillows.



She opened her knees a small bit and rubbed her palm against her pussy over her panties. She bit her lip as her eyes closed, letting her mind go to John. Her fingers stroked over her panty covered labia, a rush of warmth settling over her.



Her mind brought her to a fantasy of fucking John in his office and she slipped her panties off and kicked them away. She had grown wet and dipped her fingers between her lips collecting some of her juices. Then she trailed her fingers over her clit, drawing elicit moans as she rubbed it with calculated care. Her clit jewelry, slickened by her own arousal, teased against the hidden contours of her nub.



Her thoughts drifted to her kneeling beneath his desk, throbbing hardness behind her tight lips. She knew she had skills that would make him groan and lose his breath. Maggie reached over and picked up her vibrator and brought it to her mouth. Her fingers continued to rub her clit, collecting more juices by slipping her fingers into her tight, squishy hole.



Maggie kept her eyes closed and licked the head of her toy and sucked it into her mouth, picturing sucking John’s cock. She wondered how big he was and imagined showing him her tricks she picked up over time. Her fingers slipped down to her cunt and she began steadily fingering herself. She was wetter than she had been in ages.



She smeared her fingers along her walls, softly pumping her fingers in and out. Her spread knees buckled a little as she began thinking of John eating her pussy as she was sitting on his desk. She turned on her vibrator and brought it to her clit. Its buzz made her moan and squirm.



“Oh god, professor,” she moaned. “You’ll make me feel so good, won’t you?”



Maggie circled around her clit with the head of her toy still fingering herself. Her cheeks became flushed and she rubbed her head against her pillows, arching her back with the pleasures she was giving herself.



She slid her fingers out of her slick hole and brought them to her mouth, tasting her own juices, “You’d love how I taste, professor,” she whimpered.



Maggie moved her vibrator down to her cunt; her heart was fluttering in her chest. She pushed the toy inside and began working it in her hole. She fucked herself with it and clicked the barbell of her tongue ring against her teeth. In her mind, John was fucking her on his desk, biting all over her neck, telling her how good she felt.



“Oh fuck me, John, Fucking fuck me,” she screamed out into her bedroom.



She dragged her heels across the sheets and her moans became more intense. She rubbed the toy against her g-spot as she pumped it inside herself. Her cunt was pulsing around the vibrator, making it harder to continue pushing it inside.



“Fuck, fuck,” she moaned, “you’re going to make me cum, professor.”



Her walls pushed the toy out and she dropped it between her thighs. She quivered and groaned as her cunt squirted her hot cum out of her. Her sheets got soaked and she was left shuddering in post-orgasm bliss. A sweet smile curled on her lips and she lay there for a minute, letting her heart calm down. Then she rolled over onto a dry area of her bed and drifted off to sleep smiling happily, thinking about John.



The next morning Maggie woke from her blissful sleep and cursed herself for sleeping in her contacts. She stretched her nude body, extending her arms above her head as she lay in bed, rubbing her head in the pillows and arching her back. She rolled out of bed to the shower, tossing her sheets and comforter across the bed.



Maggie opened the door to her bathroom and stepped onto the soft green shag rug in front of her sink. After brushing her teeth, and applying drops to her red eyes, she stepped over to another rug and pulled open her clear with retro style green circles shower curtain. One color matched her rugs, the other a complimenting darker green. After turning the water on she let it warm up for a few moments before stepping inside the garden bathtub. She let the hot water run over her body, waking herself up.



As she massaged shampoo into her hair John crept back into her thoughts. “I wonder what school he teaches at. Well, no harm in doing a little personal search on the internet,” she talked quietly herself, leaning in and out of the hot water, rinsing her hair. “A little search wouldn’t hurt anyone.”



Maggie let her mind wander while she conditioned her hair, and then lathered her body in exfoliating Dove body wash. She carefully cleaned her body enjoying the fresh smell of soap, cleansing her body of the previous day. “That wouldn’t be creepy, not like I’m going to just show up and stalk him outside his office.” She turned off the water and slid into her coral pink bathrobe, letting it dry her body as she blotted her hair dry with a towel.



Maggie picked out a thin white snug little t-shirt and a pair of simple black cotton boy shorts. Her typical loungewear was a t-shirt and panties. She let her hair air-dry and slipped into her minimal outfit. After hanging up her robe she slipped on her black, cute-nerdy-girl-style glasses.



She strolled into her living room and dug her phone out of her purse. She texted her mom back about dinner tonight then opened up her laptop. She went about her daily internet activities then made a bowl of cereal in her kitchen.



Maggie’s apartment was adultly decorated; she took pride in her home. The couch and chaise lounge were both black soft velour. The walls were a soft shade of green; she would have to repaint her apartment when she moved out. She decorated the walls with paintings and black wood shelving covered in books and picture frames.



She plopped back down on the couch and flipped on the television, settling on a news show. She munched on her Rice Crispies and did a google search on her crush. She quickly found his faculty page out of the several universities in the Chicago area.



She read about him, where he earned his various degrees from, what his area of focus is. His faculty picture showed him a few years ago with a younger, happier, dorky smile and longer curly hair. Maggie giggled and smiled as she looked at his gentle eyes. She closed her eyes and let her cunt tingle thinking about him for a moment. “Nothing wrong with a little fantasy,” she smiled to herself, and then wrote down his office number and building.



She chose not to write down his phone number or e-mail address. That would be too much too soon. She did, however, search the campus map for the location of his building and saved the page to her bookmarks for easy finding later.



She folded the piece of paper with his information into her wallet and went about her day.



Tuesday evening, after work, Maggie went to the grocery store to pick up a few necessities for baking snicker doodle cookies. She passed through to the dairy area and saw him. Her heart fluttered into her throat, and she debated if she should talk to him or not.



John saw her a second later. Maggie waved to him and took a step towards him. Panic flashed across the professor’s face, and he quickly shook his head, surprising his younger friend. With an armful of cheese, John’s wife returned, dumping it into the cart. Maggie ducked into the nearby aisle, and listened in on the conversation.



What followed was quite predictable. John’s wife spent most of the time complaining about the mothers of their children’s friends. This went on for the two minutes that Maggie eavesdropped on the conversation.



John and wife finally dispersed, and Maggie was able to quickly collect a dozen eggs.



She hurried to the floral section and picked out two gerber daises, one pink and one white. She held them to her nose, smelling their sweet aroma as she walked to the card section. She thought about John. Maggie picked up a little pink card, simple and plain. After she concluded her shopping she hurried to the registers, avoiding John. One run-in was enough for today, especially with his wife there.



The next morning she woke up early. She didn’t have to work until noon, but this morning she was going to John’s office. Maggie hopped out of bed, anxiously. She hurried in the shower and blow-dried her hair before slipping into a pair of grey pinstripe slacks and a white sweater with a pink collared shirt underneath.



Maggie’s heart was racing as she opened up her laptop to check the campus map once more, double checking the building’s location. She slipped on her glasses and stepped into her pink pumps. She looked in her fridge then closed it, “I’ll get breakfast after,” she said to herself. Then she plucked the daises out of a small vase on her coffee table, the card attached by a thin and curly, white gift-wrap ribbon wrapped around the flowers. She picked up the scotch tape she had set on the table the previous night and grabbed her purse, hurrying out the door.



The drive seemed like an eternity, though it was only a few miles away. Maggie wasn’t used to morning commuters on top of her time constraint. Her heart pounded in her chest, making it hard for her to breathe as she wandered among the buildings, wide-eyed, taking in everything in for the first time. She checked her watch and rushed several more yards to a brown stone building with large windows. She looked at the sign and back down at her paper “224,” she said aloud and went inside.



The building was quiet as she looked around for the stairwell, finding it just behind the wall with chairs lined up against it. Maggie took a deep breath and headed up the stairs, carefully climbing up in her heels. She arrived on the second floor, it was quiet but a few office doors were open with lecturers and professors checking up on e-mails and getting ready for their classes. Maggie walked quietly as she could, wanting to bring as little attention to herself as she could as she passed by the open offices.



She set her purse down softly in front of the office labeled 224. She glanced at the nameplate that read “John Gottschalk” next to the door and the schedule posted underneath. Maggie carefully taped the daises to the door, the pink one layered just under the white one, giving each one’s petals enough space. The card dangled on its ribbon against the door. Maggie gave it a little tug to make sure it wouldn’t fall off then pressed her hand softly on the door before scurrying off back down the hall.



Maggie checked her watch, hurrying to get out of the area before he’d possibly see her. She returned to her white Jetta and headed off to breakfast to snag a bagel.



When John arrived at his office, he saw the flowers on his door as he came down the hall. He smirked and set his brief case down against the door and cautiously peeled the tape from the door. He looked over his shoulders before he opened the card, inside in bubbly handwriting it read “From your secret admirer” and a little heart drawn under the words. John took a quick smell of the flowers before opening his office door. He had a good feeling who they were from and smiled big at the attention she was giving him.



Between classes in the afternoon John masturbated in his locked up office. He daydreamed of Maggie riding him in his executive chair, her pretty brown locks bouncing on her shoulders as she whimpered, digging his cock into her. His hand glided along his shaft, groaning softly to himself as his eyes closed. He imagined her smooth cunt gripping his cock as he held her ass, fucking her deep. He quickly rubbed one out into a tissue and cleaned up before his next class.



Friday afternoon, Maggie stopped at a local coffee shop after work. She saw John sitting outside, seemingly alone, in what looked like the same slacks and sweater vest he had worn during their first meeting. John looked up from his laptop as he heard her approaching and smiled.



“Fancy meeting you here,” John said, looking Maggie over in her black dress and white cardigan.



Maggie smiled, “Are you alone?” she asked then took a sip of her latte.



John pushed some papers over on the table, making room for her to sit down. “Yes, madam,” he replied.



She nodded and sat down next to him, admiring a stack of what seemed to be student’s papers. “A professor’s job is never done?” she teased him.



“It’s done when I want it to be,” John said sipping his black coffee. “Or when the students get ancy.”



Maggie crossed her legs and leaned to her right, towards John, “Do you mind some company?”



John shook his head, “Of course not, but I need to ask you a question first.”



“What’s that?” Maggie asked, raising a brow.



“Did you do some stalking and leave flowers on my office door the other day?” he asked writing a grade at the top of a paper then looked over at Maggie.



She blushed.



“Well?” he asked again putting the cap on a red pen, putting it down on top of the stack of papers.



“Maybe, maybe I did,” Maggie said, smiling softly.



John smiled, “I thought it was you.”



Maggie sipped her latté quietly, grinning behind the cup.



“Why did you do it Maggie?” he asked.



“Because you deserve to smile,” she replied softly, raising her eyes to John’s.



John looked at her pretty hazel eyes, part of him wanted to grab her and take her into the restroom and fuck her silly. But he pushed those thoughts away, “I smiled all day, thank you.”



“I’m glad I could help.”



They began talking about his work, plans for the weekend and standard coffee shop conversation. Eventually, Maggie had to know, “So, tell me about your wife.”



“My wife,” John looked at her slightly puzzled, “what do you want to know?”



Maggie made a thoughtful face and finished up her drink. “About her, about you and her, about your relationship.”



John sighed and fingered the insulator sleeve on his coffee cup, “Well, we’ve been married fifteen years and I’ve begun to split my days into good days and divorce days,” he said softly. Maggie listened intently as he continued. “It’s more often bad days.”



Maggie nodded, showing concern, “Do you fight a lot?”



John shook his head, “Arguments, no. But non-verbal quiet fights, yes. She’s my wife and I love her. But now-a days…”



Maggie reached over and gently set her hand on top of his, squeezing softly.



“It’s probably almost over, I don’t know how much longer we can last. Or, I should say, I can last like this.”



Maggie gulped, “I’m sorry.”



John squeezed her hand back, “Don’t be, it’s not your fault,” he smiled reassuringly.



She nodded, “Just do what makes you happy because you deserve it.”



John nodded back with his new friend and changed the subject, “Oh, this might sound silly, but I have a band.”



“A band?” Maggie asked, keeping her hand softly cupped in his.



John grinned, “Yes, a band. More like, friends getting together and playing to let off steam.”

Maggie playfully smiled, “What do you play?”



“Bass.”



Maggie’s smile widened as she rubbed her slender fingers against John’s long callused fingers, “Bass, huh? You keep upping your sexy meter.” She felt his fingers, her mind wandering to how they would feel inside her.



John laughed, “Well, I’m not sure about that.”



“I am,” she said with a twinkle in her eye making John blush.



He cleared his throat before continuing, “Well, we have an open mic night show next Friday…” he trailed off.



“Is that an invitation, professor?”



John nodded, “I’d be very pleased if you came.”



Maggie let go of his hand, reached onto the pile for his red pen and wrote her e-mail address down on a napkin, “Send me the information, I’d love to come.” She folded up the napkin and smiled handing it to John.



John took the napkin and put it into his pocket. He looked down at his watch, “Damn, I was supposed to be home ten minutes ago to start dinner. I’m sorry Maggie, but I have to run,” he said loading up his laptop quickly and the papers and notes into his bag.



Maggie watched him scramble and picked up both their cups from the table and threw them in the trash. “I’ll see you next week, then.”



John stood and walked out of the coffee shop with Maggie, “I just hope I don’t embarrass myself in front of such a pretty lady as you.”



She chuckled and got her keys from her purse, “I’m sure you won’t. Have a good night, John,” she said and they both went to their cars.



As the week passed both Maggie and John continued having recurring daydreams about each other. Maggie wanted him: inside her, around her, over her. She longed for his lips on hers. She became infatuated with thoughts of him. She could go out of her way to see him, but she didn’t. Constantly she reminded herself he was married. Could she be the other woman? Did she have that in her? It’s just, so, wrong. But, when she thought about him, she pined for him. “I’ll be good. He’s married, it would be his decision to cheat, not mine,” she thought as she went to sleep Thursday evening.



John spent his week in and out of class, busy with his kids and attending open house at the eldest’s school. To his surprise, his wife came onto him Wednesday morning before she had to leave for work. He started slow with his wife, mounted between her thighs, driving his cock in and out of her. John used his fingers, tickling her clit as she moaned and sighed beneath him. She orgasmed quickly as her husband drove into her carefully digging himself inside her. Her cunt quivered and clenched around him.



Once she was satisfied, he picked up the pace. Unlike their usual lovemaking sex, he began ramming her, grunting as the force grew. He fucked her hard, thinking of Maggie, fucking his wife how he dreamed of fucking Maggie.



His wife groaned in disgust as he used her. She tried to get him to stop, complaining that she would be late for work. But he didn’t stop. He rammed and pounded into his wife, eyes closed, blocking out her pleas. He roared as he let out his built up seed into his wife, panting as she stared up at him wide eyed and terrified about what came over her husband.



John rolled over onto his back and smiled. His wife was stunned for a moment before shaking her head and crawling out of bed.



Friday was an eternity for both John and Maggie. The weather had turned colder, a hint at the upcoming winter. Finally, the sun had begun to set as Maggie drove to the edge of downtown to a quaint bar’s address she had written down. She wondered if his family would be there, if this was really a good idea. She parked her car and checked her makeup one last time in the flip-down mirror before slipping out into the parking lot. As she walked up the sidewalk, she grew nervous and clasped her hands into fists inside her coat pockets.



Maggie fumbled with her wallet to get her ID out of its window sleeve. She smiled as she handed it to the doorman.



He looked it over and looked at Maggie, “Twenty-six, I wouldn’t have guessed,” he said as he handed her ID back.



Maggie smiled and put it back into her wallet, “Thanks, I get it all the time,” and she passed into the bar.



Her heart fluttered as she looked around, unbuttoning her coat due to the warmth of the stuffy bar, exposing the full length of her dress. Her tea length dress sat just below her knees. Mostly white with a black flower pattern that grew thicker as the skirt of her dress flowed out. A black petticoat peaked out under the hem of the skirt and a dark red sash clenched high on her waist, tied at her back. Maggie looked for a small empty table and draped her coat over the back of the chair and hopped into the high seat, crossing her stockinged legs and hooking the heel of a black strappy stiletto into the bar of the chair.



Maggie’s eyes darted around and she felt her face heat up, a mix of nervousness and the over working heater making her go flush. A chipper waitress stopped by and took her drink order, and promptly returned with an Absolut screwdriver. Maggie thanked her and spun the straw in her drink looking around for John.



Suddenly she saw him out of the corner of her eye, his unmistakable face complete with a coarse goatee framing his mouth accenting his thicker nose. She tried not to stare, watching him talk with his wife. His kids climbing on him, too big to do so, but he didn’t seem to mind. Maggie smiled to herself with the straw between her lips.



He hugged his kids goodbye, who seemed to wish him luck, and kissed his wife gently on the lips. Maggie sank in her seat as she felt like someone had stabbed her with a knife when she saw him kiss her. She knew he was taken, even married. But she never thought she’d see him kiss her.



Maggie sucked the rest of her drink down and the waitress took note, returning with another. Maggie thanked her and tried to take deep breaths, closing her eyes to shake the hatred for a woman she didn’t even know rising inside her. Was she jealous of her? Why would she be jealous, it’s just silly? He had never lied to her. Maggie considered leaving, she didn’t know if she was up for this, whatever this was.



She saw John’s wife, seemingly happy, approach her. Maggie straightened out as his middle daughter started skipping and hopped into a seat in front of her. His family piled into the chairs around the table. Maggie rubbed her fingers through the condensation on her glass and took a few more deliberate sips. She told herself she was being stupid as she heard his kids start talking to their mom about how excited they were, sipping on their Shirley Temples.



Maggie tried not to stare, but snuck glances at John’s wife. She wasn’t ugly, or pretty, she had aged as her children grew up and the last time she actually cared about her hair was probably her wedding day. She was of average size, and had a few wrinkles around her eyes that got deeper with each passing year.



John had emerged on stage with his band mates, one of whom was William, setting up his drum kit. They did some last minute set up and sound checks. More people had begun filling in the open areas in the bar until it was full. It was a rather large crowd for an open mic night.



Maggie continued watching him, studying the way he moved, so focused. She smiled, adoring his punk-teacher look; he wore a light blue untucked dress shirt hanging around the hips of his chinos and a dark blue striped tie that was tied oddly around his neck. He wore his glasses and Maggie smirked as he ran his hand through his curly hair before picking up his bass and putting the strap over his shoulder. “You’re so fucking sexy,” she whispered to herself.



John fumbled with the strings on his bass, tuning it. He looked out to the crowd, to his children and wife and smiled and waved. Then his eyes moved just a bit further and he saw Maggie sitting up with perfect posture, sipping a cocktail from the tiny straw between her lips.



His heart leapt. She had come. She was here for him and that meant everything to him. Maggie bowed her head just slightly and smiled as their eyes met. John puckered his lips, it was meant for her, but his wife sat directly in front and giggled in response.



The singer and guitarist, a man about John’s age but seemed to have less of his life taken by stress and family came up to the mic and said, “Sound check. Check, check. One, Two, check.”



There was a moment of pause and some sound work done. All four men fumbled around with their instruments. The crowd buzzed, unfocused. But Maggie’s eyes were stuck on John.



“Thanks for coming out everyone. We are The Ruffled Feathers. I hope you enjoy us,” the singer said.



Maggie chuckled at the band’s name then batted her eyelashes and looked at John from across the room. He bowed his head this time and she smiled big in response, giggling in a giddy schoolgirl way. It was too loud in the bar for anyone to hear her delightful squeal.



The Ruffled Feathers opened with a funky song. The lyrics were kind of mumbled but Maggie didn’t care. She watched John pluck the thick strings on his bass, his fingers slapping the strings and body of the instrument. He was crisp and precise even with the funky bass line. Maggie couldn’t have told you what the song was about, but she didn’t mind.



They played three songs, all rock with funk and jazz undertones. The band’s nervousness seemed to fade, as they got deeper into the set. During the songs John’s eyes would dart to Maggie as if he was playing to impress her. Maggie slowly sipped her drink listening to the music and smiling when he smiled at her.



Between each song the crowd clapped and cheered, apparently a lot of people liked The Ruffled Feathers. She noticed that his son had begun leaning against his mom like he was getting tired.



“We have one more song for you guys, stick around for Billy Beane’s Prospect Farm after this,” the singer said into the mic.



Silence lingered for a moment. Broken by the sound of John’s bass slowly pumping out a heavy, thick line. The rest of the band slowly came in. Maggie watched more intent than before, she felt the sexy thrum of the rhythm between her thighs grow into a slow crescendo with the song. Maybe it was that she was a little bit buzzed and the reverberations of the music flowed out into the audience but she rubbed her thighs together. The words to the song became a blur to her after the first few lines. The tingles in her body, everything, telling her she needed to have this man.



The music faded down to the same bass line the song began with and Maggie clapped loud with a huge grin painted on her face when they finished. The band got their equipment off the stage to make way for the next band.



Eventually, John returned from back stage and headed for his family. Maggie bit her lip, sipped her drink and patiently waited. She listened and watched him interact with his kids and wife. The woman he was married to seemed distant and just plain exhausted. His wife sat quiet while his daughters climbed into his lap hugging him, telling him how great he was. Maggie nodded to herself in agreement with their statements.



Suddenly the girls’ bliss was broken, “Come on girls, we need to head home. Johnny needs to get home, he’s not feeling very well.”



“But I wanna stay!” the oldest daughter protested, grabbing onto her father’s arm.



“Me too! Me too!” the other chimed in after her sister.



Maggie giggled quietly watching how cute his girls were.



John kissed both his daughters cheeks, “You two need to get home, its getting too late for little angels like you to be out.”



“Are you staying?” his wife asked coldly.



The girls piled out of John’s lap as he replied, “Yes, its proper etiquette to stay and watch the other bands.”



His wife rolled her eyes and sighed, preparing to shuffle the kids out of the bar before it became overcrowded with youth. “Don’t stay out too late. We have brunch with the Donaldson’s tomorrow.”



John nodded and got up, holding both his daughters hands as he walked his family out.



Maggie waited patiently for him to return, in the mean time she ordered and received another drink and spun the straws ritually. She was infuriated with how his wife acted towards him. “You can’t show him any love when he just stood up there and played in front of all these people? Fucking bitch. And what was that about not staying out too late? He’s not a kid,” she mumbled to herself as the next band began their sound check.



John returned and went to his friends. He knew Maggie was there but he had priorities. She saw him across the room at a table with his band mates, cheering and downing a beer with them. She stayed in her seat for several minutes before picking up her drink and purse and walking across the room, squeezing between tables and standing patrons.



Maggie tapped John lightly on the shoulder. He quickly spun around, his eyes widened at her striking beauty accented by her delicate dress. John’s friends looked at her like they had never seen a woman before.



“Hi,” she said with a soft smile.



“Hello,” he returned the smile, “I’m glad you came out.”



“I am too. You were great.” She looked out to his friends and winked at William, “You were all great,” she said before looking back up at John. “You didn’t embarrass yourself one bit.”



John chuckled, “Well, thank you.”



Maggie ran her fingertips lightly along his shirt covered forearm, “That last song, who wrote it?”



“I did, why?”



Maggie blushed, “It was a really hot song, I mean really hot. Made me get all tingly inside,” she whispered.



John cleared his throat but his voice remained husky, “Is that so?”



Maggie nodded, “Yes sir. But, um, I should probably be going,” she continued whispering.



He frowned and looked down at her, “Oh, that’s not good news, I wish you’d stay for a bit longer” he paused. “Let me walk you to your car.”



“I need to grab my coat, I’ll be right back,” she said as she pulled her hand away from his arm and walked back across the bar.



John smiled as she turned away and he went back to his friends finishing his beer.



The singer chided him, “She’s fucking hot, if you’re not going to bang that, I will.”



“Shut up,” John hissed.



William gave him a knowing smile and shook his head behind his beer.



“I’m just speaking the truth,” his friend continued leaning his head to the side to get a better view of Maggie as she walked across the bar and picked up her coat. “I mean come on, look at those legs, that ass, she’s pretty and I bet she screams real loud while a cock is being pounded into her tight little…” His words were cut off as John jabbed his elbow into his ribs.



“I said shut up,” he grumbled. “She’s a lady, and you don’t talk about ladies like that.”



His friend rubbed his side and surrendered, “Sorry, man. Sorry.”



John looked over at the door and saw Maggie waiting for him. He put some cash down on the table and told the guys to get a round on him. He walked over to her. His heart raced. Was his friend right? Did she scream like a silly slut when she was being fucked? Was her cunt so tight it could suck the life from him?



He shook his head to get those thoughts from his mind as he neared her and replaced them with a smile, “Maggie, I really wish you could stay a bit longer. I promise my friends don’t bite.”



Maggie laughed and buttoned her black, wool, trench coat up, the hem of her dress peeked out underneath, “I said I’d love to come see you play, but I do have to work in the morning,” she said with a smile as they walked out the door.



“Fuck!” they both grumbled as the cold wind hit them on the face outside.



Maggie shivered and John instinctively wrapped his arm around her, bringing her close at his side. It felt natural. They walked, locked together down the sidewalk.



“You look gorgeous tonight,” he said, smelling the sweet smell of her hair against his chest.



Maggie made a little giggle, “Thank you. And you’re handsome as ever.”



John left his coat inside but her warmth was all he needed for the moment. “Can I see you again?” he asked as they stepped into the parking lot.



“If we’re lucky,” she teased him repeating the same words he said to her two weeks ago, nuzzling her cheek into his chest.



John kissed the top of her head before he let her go from his embrace, suddenly freezing, he wrapped his arms around himself and hopped around like a little kid needing to use the restroom. He waited for her to dig her keys from her purse and open the door.



He held it open and helped her slide into the drivers seat, “You okay to drive?” he asked.



Maggie nodded, her voice clear, “Yes sir. Pinky promise,” she smiled and put the key into the ignition. The smile faded as the car clicked but wouldn’t turn over. “But, apparently my car isn’t.” She tried again several times before letting out a sigh and slumped back into her seat.



John looked down at her. Her lips were folded into the sweetest pout, and she was suddenly a damsel in distress needing to be saved.



He placed his hand on her shoulder, “Pop the hood, I’ll try giving you a jump. I’ll be right back with my car.”



Maggie nodded, still pouting.



John ran to his car across the parking lot. The professor parked his black family sedan nose to nose with Maggie’s white Jetta. The married man retrieved his jumper cables and attached the red to the red and the black to the black.



Maggie peeked her head out from the corner of her open door, “Thank you.”



John smiled, “You’re welcome.”



Then he went to his car and started revving the engine. He and Maggie worked together trying to pump juice into her battery. After several minutes he undid the cables and she tried to start the engine once more. Nothing.



“Fuck!” Maggie screamed from the drivers seat, slapping her hands on the wheel.



John came over to her and squatted down by her open door, he placed his hand, tentatively, on Maggie’s knee. “Hey, hey. It’s not a big deal. The battery is probably just shot. Tomorrow, just come up here with someone and change it out. I’m sure it will be just fine,” he said calmly, rubbing her soft skin under her stockings, his fingers caressing her flesh.



Maggie frowned and pouted out her bottom lip, looking over at him. “Thanks, for trying though. Let me call some friends and see who can come get me.”



John shook his head, “That’s absurd. I’ll take you home, Maggie.”



“Are you sure? I mean, I don’t want to put a damper on your evening with the guys.”



John’s fingers stretched out and grazed across the warm flesh of her low inner thigh, he wanted to push his hand further up, but he continued to just touch her softly.



“I am sure. It’s no trouble,” he smiled reassuring her.



Maggie whimpered softly at his touch. She ached for more; she ached for him to take her for his own and forget everything about his life, at least for a few moments. She simply nodded after a moment and slid out of her seat and locked up her car. He took her hand and helped her out, watching her dress cascade down around her knees, flowing perfectly with the gentle petticoat.



“I have to run inside and get my coat then I’ll be right back. Go ask the attendant how much it will be to keep the car overnight. You don’t want to get towed,” John said, he reached into his wallet and pulled out a few twenty-dollar bills.



Maggie looked at the money then back up at him, “You don’t have to, you’re already doing enough.” She pushed his hand back towards his pocket.



John grabbed her wrist and crumpled the money into her palm. “You came out here for me, it’s the least I can do. I’ll be right back, I promise.” he said, leaving the money in her hand and hurried back inside.



When he returned, Maggie was returning from the attendant with a little card in her hand. She opened her door, stuck the parking pass on the dashboard and locked up again.

John came to the passenger side and opened the door for her, the case for his bass slung over his shoulder. Maggie smiled and slid inside, though she couldn’t help but think about how many times his wife had sat in this seat before. She wanted to be here with him so she shook off the invading thoughts of his wife as she buckled her seatbelt.



John slid his bass into the backseat and went to the drivers side and plopped down in his seat, and then started up the car, “Where to?”



“I live off Nottingham. It’s not even a mile from the store where I saw you last week,” Maggie said as he pulled out of the parking lot and took a left.



“Gotcha. You know, that’s not too far from my place,” he said as he joined the other cars on the road and started heading to Maggie’s apartment.



His arm rested on the console, fingers drumming nervously on the gearshift. He didn’t know what he was going to do when they got back to her place; it all seemed too easy, too perfect.



An awkward silence lingered for several minutes and Maggie stared out the window, “That last song, the one I liked, is it new?”



John rolled to a stop at a red light and looked over at her. Her beauty illuminated by the city streetlights, “Yes it is. Why?”



Maggie kept her eyes out the window and fiddled with her fingers in her lap, “Did you write it for me?” she asked softly.



“Sort of. Yes. I mean, no. Well, yes,” he fumbled for words.



Maggie laughed and looked over at him, catching his eyes with hers, “Well, what is it? I don’t think I imagined its intensity.”



The light changed to green and John hit the accelerator. Maggie rested her hand on top of his, slowly drawing her fingers over the bones of his hand.



“When I wrote it, I was thinking about you, yes,” he admitted. “You are my muse, if you will. I wouldn’t say I wrote it for you, specifically,” his nerves tingled at her gentle touch. “But, I would say you inspired it.”



Maggie smiled and returned to looking out the window, watching people pass by in their cars. After a few moments she spoke, “I’m glad I can provide you with inspiration.”



The rest of the ride was filled with common conversation until they reached her apartment and she led him through other buildings to hers. They pulled into her assigned parking spot.



“Would you like to come in? I baked cupcakes; tomorrow is my work friend’s birthday. I have plenty. It’s the least I can do for all your kindness,” she said looking at him, longing to stay together if only a little longer.



John turned off his car and took a deep breath, avoiding eye contact with Maggie. He went over the pros and cons of a cupcake that could mean a lot more in his head before answering. “Maggie…”



“I’m so stupid. I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” she said rushing her words, shaking her head violently.



John squeezed her hand in an effort to calm her down, “Hey, hey, it’s okay. I’d love a cupcake.”



Maggie clenched her fingers around his hand, “Sorry, I just… Sorry.”



He leaned over and brushed a few stray chestnut strands from her face. “You have nothing to be sorry for. I’d love a cupcake, but first, tell me what kind it is.”



Maggie’s lips broke into a quivering smile, “Strawberry with cream cheese frosting.”



John made an approving sound and returned her smile. “Sounds delightful.”



They both unbuckled their seatbelts and Maggie led him across the courtyard to her apartment. They walked in silence, accompanied by the wind rulsting the trees.



She opened the door and let him inside, both of them too nervous to say anything. John looked around her apartment. The grown up decor was comforting. He knew she wasn’t an overgrown adolescent. She knew what she was doing, what she wanted and where she was going.



He watched her unbutton her coat and hang it in the coat closet by the door and walk to the bar to feed her four beta fish, each a different color and each in their own bowl. She glided across her apartment in her stilettos, her dress ruffling around her knees.



The apartment smelled of vanilla and cinnamon candles she had lit earlier. He was being welcomed into her home, her charm, her grace, and he wasn’t sure he would be able to control himself. He removed his jacket and draped it over the backrest of the chaise lounge.



“What are their names?” he asked as she fed the last fish.



Maggie turned and grinned, “This is Sammy,” she said pointing to the dark green fish, “Pinkie,” the pink one, “Hellfire,” the red one, “And this is Stinky, or Spot, but his nickname is Stinky cause he has the worst bowl to clean out.”



John came to her side and bent down to look at the separated fish, “My oldest, Abby, has a pink beta, like that one. He tries to jump out of his bowl too much for my comfort.”



Maggie giggled, “Yeah, I used to have one that liked attempted suicide as well. I put a screen over it and held it with a rubber band. It worked well.”



John smiled, “I can’t believe I didn’t think of that. Good tip. Thank you fish lady,” he teased her.



She shook her head and sashayed her way into the kitchen. John couldn’t help but watch her hips sway and enjoy the ruffle her petticoat gave. He eyed her stocking legs for the first time. He knew they were stockings, this time he was sure. His cock stirred in his khakis as he watched her move. He settled down onto the chaise to block his view and calm down.



Maggie returned with a white frosted cupcake and a napkin and handed it to John. “Enjoy,” she said with a warm smile and sat down next to him. She could feel her heart beating in her throat, making it hard for her to breathe.



John took a big bite out the cupcake, smearing icing into his mustache. “This is really good,” he said covering his mouth as he chewed.



She winked and patted his thigh, “I have more where that came from.”



John coughed and then took another nervous bite of his treat. Did she want him as badly as he wanted herWas this all his imagination built on a fantasy that turned into a deep-rooted infatuation? He didn’t know her well, but he knew he needed to have her. Somehow. He ate slowly, enjoying the perfect cupcake, in this perfect apartment, with this perfect woman.



Maggie looked at him shyly, like she wanted to say something but kept her lips sealed. He finished the treat and wiped his mouth with the napkin.



“John.”



“Yes, Maggie?”



She looked away for a brief moment then back at him, his face seemed to hide the angst bubbling inside him. “What time do you need to be home?”



He looked at his watch, “Sometime between now and an hour or so.”



Maggie rubbed her lips together before speaking, “Would you like to lay in bed with me?” John raised a brow. “Not sex, just lay in bed. I know it’s weird. I just want to lie together. I promise, I won’t do anything bad.”



John turned a bit flushed. He wanted to pick her up, take her to bed and ravish her. Not tonight. At least he didn’t think that would be tonight. “Sure,” he said.



Maggie stood and held out her hand for him to take and follow her into her room. He took it and followed close behind, watching her bum bounce as her hips swayed. He adored the red sash high on her waist and how it drew his attention to the curve of her chest. She looked over her shoulder to him as she opened the door to her bedroom.



Once again, he was delighted with the tranquility her apartment exuded. He stepped out of his shoes and left them below the foot of her bed. She chose the right side by her night table and sat down.



His pulse pounded as she crossed her legs and the skirt of her dress rode up and flowed down. He could see the taste of nude lace across her thighs a shiny purple garter attached. His cock stirred in reaction.



Maggie bent at her waist and leaned over, her cleavage inviting his eyes. He took a stuttering breath as she delicately unbuckled the ankle strap of her heels. Her bosom gave a delightful jiggle as she switched legs. John licked his lips as she took off her other shoe, and then pulled his eyes away. He went to the left and sat down on top of her crisp white down comforter.



He waited until Maggie laid back and he followed suit, falling into the soft fluffy pillows. Her bed was supportively soft. He always loved soft beds, but his wife wanted the really firm bed because it was better for her back. He let out a satisfied and content sigh.



Maggie smiled over at him, her hair beautifully draped across the pillows. She rolled over onto her side and softly laid her hand on his chest, stroking the silk of his tie. John scooted over a little, lessening the space between their bodies.



Maggie draped her leg over his, her fluffy skirt strewn over the bed. She closed her eyes breathing in his scent, complemented with light cologne. John closed his eyes and brought her closer with his arm around her back, hand resting on her side, just under the curve of her breast.



“John,” she said, looking up, trailing her fingers softly around the outline of his goatee.



His organ pulsed in his slacks as he ran his hand over her curve, fingers barely grazing the side of her bust. He felt the smooth fabric over her dress scratch under his roughened fingertips. He didn’t answer, instead he relaxed in the moment, her warmth against him, nervous but content with Maggie so close.



“I have a confession to make,” Maggie whispered, lifting her face so she could see his eyes. Their noses were close, barely nuzzling each other. “I’ve, um, I’ve been thinking about you since the day we met. I’m sorry, but I can’t help it.”



John blinked his eyes and lifted his hand, caressing her cheek, “I know, I’ve felt it too.”



Maggie rested her forehead against his, and laid her head on his pillow. Their lips so close. It felt like sparks were passing between them. “I want you, but it’s wrong. I need you, but you’re married. I don’t want you to cheat,” she said as she trailed her fingers down the buttons of his shirt, carefully feeling his body.



Their mouths brushed against the others as they spoke, too timid to press together, but oh, so close. Every touch made Maggie and John both grow warm.



“I’ve never thought about cheating,” John said slowly, the words making him sting inside. “But, I met you and now it’s all I can think about.”



Their pulses grew steadier in unison, audible in their breaths. John traced his fingers along the lines of her jaw and collarbone, his other hand holding her. Maggie’s nose brushed against his and her palm flattened and rubbed his lower stomach, fingers daring to keep going.



“I could care for you, John. Maybe even love you. I could give you what you need and desire,” Maggie said. Her words making John’s manhood ache as he fought with morality. “But I can’t and it hurts.”



John used his hand to angle her head down and pressed his lips against her forehead, “I know,” he said after gently kissing her.



Maggie pushed her fingers down, grazing over the erection evident beneath his pants. She rubbed for a moment, John let out a hoarse groan feeling her hand on him, knowing the pleasure it would bring.



Suddenly she pulled her hand away like she had touched something scalding hot, “Sorry. I’m sorry,” she said.



John took her wrist and shook his head. He placed her hand back over his crotch and she obediently massaged his strained cock.



“See what you do to me. Do you see how you make me feel?” John whispered.



She whimpered and rubbed her stockinged toes against his calf. Her hand cupped and rubbed against him.



John groaned, “No one else has touched me for fifteen years, Maggie.”



Maggie rubbed her thighs together under her dress, her panties damp. His arousal prominent to her, she felt the ridge of his head through the clothing.



“I want this so bad,” she whispered, stroking her hand against him, her fingers reaching all the way behind his balls. “I don’t want to be a bad person. I don’t want people to get hurt.”



John covered her forehead in tender kisses, moaning against her face as she groped him. “You’re not a bad person. Naughty, maybe, but not bad.” He leaned away from her so he could see her eyes. They looked so concerned, yet full of lust. “But not tonight. If this is going to happen, it won’t be tonight. I have to get home. But god, Maggie, I want you. But not tonight, okay?”



Maggie slowly pulled her hand away and nodded, “I understand.”



“Are you upset?”



“No,” she said. “I’m not. You’re married. I can never be upset. Just know there’s a girl here who wants you.”



John smiled, “Be a good girl for me. If this is right, it will happen.”



Maggie kept her eyes on his, biting her lip and nodding. “I’m sorry,” she said hesitantly.



“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for. I took your invitation and came inside. I followed you to your bed. It’s choices Maggie. You didn’t make me do anything,” he said rubbing his thumb along her cheekbone. “You’re beautiful, you know that right?”



Maggie blushed and played coy, looking away.



John chuckled, “It’s true. And trust me, It’s hard to turn this down, but I have to get home.”



Maggie leaned in and kissed his cheek. “Let me walk you out.”



“I’d love that,” he said. He then sat up, leaving her warmth behind and got his shoes back on.



Maggie watched him, propped up on her elbow. She slid out of her bed when he was ready. John held out his hand and helped her out of bed. She led him into the living room. He put his jacket on and Maggie kept a soft smile on her lips though inside she was aching. This was reality.



They got to the door and John looked down at her. “Be a good girl, for me,” he said planting a kiss on the corner of her mouth.



“I’ll miss you,” Maggie whispered, reaching for the doorknob.



John nodded, “Just wait. The time will be right, someday.”



Maggie opened the door and let him out. He walked through the courtyard back to his car, unable to believe that he turned her down. Maggie locked up and went back into her room, undressed herself, leaving her clothing in a heap on the floor. She threw a pink t-shirt on with her purple lace panties and crawled into bed. She rested her head on the pillow he was using and fell asleep breathing in his scent.



Days passed slowly. Maggie felt like this was all a dream and didn’t want to push herself on him anymore. She fought with demons inside of her, begging her to act, begging her to do what she wanted.



On the way to work Wednesday morning, she found herself in the visitor parking lot of the university again. She picked up her purse and a sealed envelope out of the passenger seat and turned off her car. Her hands shook as she walked through the buildings. “Was this too much… Is this just a game?” she thought as she hurried through campus.



It was later this time. Late morning. It was too late for him to not have gotten to his office yet. She took a deep breath that came out in a fog before she opened the door. This time she new exactly where to go. Up the stairs to the second floor, take a left down to room 224, passed the other offices and weaving in and out of other professors and students.



As she approached her heart sped up. His door was open. She heard his voice coming out into the hallway accompanied with a voice of a young male. She stood next to the door and waited patiently, listening to John discuss the lecture topic from today with his student. Her fingers trembled. She continued to wait, rubbing her toes inside her pumps on the tile floor.



Several minutes later, the student came out of his office. She waited a few more moments, not wanting to be too obvious, and then she stepped into the doorway and rapped on his door. John looked up from his computer, delightfully surprised. He took in the view of her wearing a pink and red argyle sweater vest over a red button down, black slacks, a hint of stocking on the top of her foot inside her black heels. He was stunned, admiring how her layered top hugged against her tits that he had gotten so close to feeling in his hand. If only he had let down his guard.



John cleared his throat but his voice remained husky, “Maggie,” he greeted her.



“Professor, do you have a moment?” she asked and smiled, admiring his tan tweed suit, complete with a very professor-like yellow bow tie. Anxiously, she rubbed the bead of her tongue piercing between her lips. The silver of her tongue stud caught John’s eye. She kept reminding herself to be calm and professional.



He peered at her after the rims of his spectacles, “Come in, please. Have a seat.”



Maggie walked into his office; the room exuded his fine choices and education. She walked slowly, looking at his degrees and the over stuffed bookshelf.



She stopped at the front of his desk, resting one hand on top of the beautiful worn cedar, “Thank you sir, but I don’t need a seat. I just have something to give you,” her voice was soft, nervous for anyone outside the office to hear.



John raised a brow and leaned towards her, “You do? Let’s have it then.”



“Yes, sir,” Maggie placed the envelope on his desk and pushed it towards him.



Their fingers brushed and teased each other as he took the envelope. He leaned back in his chair, pressing all his fingers against the envelope. It felt soft and he knew something was in there besides a few sheets of paper, but he kept his cool.



“Thank you Maggie, I will get right on this after class.”



She nodded and leaned further across his desk. John could smell her familiar sweet soapy aroma.



She whispered, “It’s very important you are alone when it is opened.” She placed her hand on top of his, traced his fingers with hers and then turned on her heel and left his office without another word.



John looked at the time; he hadn’t opened the envelope and put it into the top drawer of his desk. He continued grading for the remainder of his office hour and another student came in with a few questions. His student continued with chatter passed his office time, he politely told him he needed to get to lunch and shuffled him out of his office. He closed and locked his door and sat back down behind his desk.



His stomach turned to anxious knots as he pulled the drawer open and laid the puffy envelope flat on his desk in front of him. “Professor Gottschalk” it said in beautiful flowing letters across the front. His mouth went dry as he opened it.



Green lace caught his eye, “Oh fuck,” he mumbled. He dipped his fingers inside and pulled out the flimsy green lace with genuine care. He laid the panties down on the desk, running his fingers over the lace.



He examined the details. Soft green sheer lace with an innocent flower pattern was dominant over the expanse of the garment. In the middle of the front ribbons came up from the crotch to the top in a criss cross pattern closed off with a pretty silk bow of the matching green. The hip band was made solely of lace and met together at the back forming a sweet classy thong. He picked up the panties in his hand, rubbing his fingers together over the sexy womanly lingerie. John opened the letter than had accompanied the panties. He quietly read aloud:



John, I need you to know how much I want you. When I go to sleep, I keep myself warm with thoughts of you and hope I will be lucky enough to see you in my dreams. When I find myself daydreaming, you are always there. When I think about you, my heart speeds up and my body aches. I want you, John. I need you. The attraction I have for you is stronger than anything I have ever felt. I know it’s terribly wrong and I won’t push you anymore. You have my word. Just know that there is a girl who is plagued by thoughts of you, who desires to give you everything you want, who wants to fill the void inside you. I know you have needs that you can’t deny. I know you used all your strength to not ravish me last week. But please, don’t do anything because of me. Do it because you want to, and when you’re ready, one day, you will be inside my panties. Until then, professor, know that you will be the object of my fantasies. Love, Maggie

As he finished reading his cock was aching, he was too occupied with the panties and letter to give it notice before. He unzipped his slacks and pulled his aching organ out of his fly.



“Oh Maggie, Maggie, what are you doing to me,” he said as he held the panties in his hand and began stroking himself. The lace was soft against his erection, carefully dragging his hand along his pole and his eyes fluttered closed. “I need you too, Maggie. I need your soft lips wrapped around my cock, sucking me inside your mouth. Oh yes, that would be so fucking good,” he mumbled, easing the tension in the shaft with his hand.



Inside his mind, Maggie was on her knees, worshiping his cock with her mouth, suckling and licking his erect flesh. She’d run her tongue over his balls and work her hand over his slick erection. “I need to know what you feel like, oh god. I need to be inside you… fuck…” He quickly grabbed a tissue and closed his eyes again, “You’re so pretty with a cock in your mouth, aren’t you, Maggie… Rubbing that tongue stud all over my cock,” he grumbled and groaned, “fuck,” his chest heaved as his cum emptied from his balls into the tissue. “A nice creamy load for you, Maggie,” he said quietly with his head back against his chair.



Days passed typically, and Maggie began to wonder if she had gone too far. She checked her e-mail regularly for any sign of John but always came up short. She had to remind herself he had priorities. He had children, and a wife. “I’m just being silly. This is just silly. I mean come on, this is stupid,” she had said to herself staring out the windows at work Saturday afternoon, willing John to come in.



Little did she know John had a terrible day. In the morning, his mother came to pick up the kids for a few hours. He thought this would be an opportune time for him and his wife to have some alone time. He was wrong. She was cleaning up after breakfast with his help. While he rinsed and she dried the dishes he looked over at her, “You know Tammy, we’re alone,” he said to his wife with a naughty twinkle in his eye.



“I know,” she replied, continuing to dry dishes.



John finished and turned off the water, he helped dry the last few plates and put them away. He set a skillet on the counter and came up behind his wife and kissed her neck.



She sighed as he began to softly grind against her ass, “Come on honey, and let me treat you to something special this morning. I want to make you cum for me, please, honey.”



“Not now, John, I, we, have things to do,” she resisted and nudged herself away.



He wrapped his arm around her, taking her breast into his hand, kneading carefully. “It can wait, I want to please you. I need to taste your pussy,” he whispered in her ear.



She almost gave in, letting her eyes close for a moment. Then she suddenly turned and pushed him away by his shoulders. “I said not now,” she growled.



“Come on. Why the hell not?” John demanded. “No one is home. This never fucking happens. All I want to do is let you lie down and relax and pleasure you. I don’t need anything, I just want to give to you.”



Tammy started scrubbing at a stain on the counter top, frustrated and annoyed, “You can’t just snap your fingers and have me at will. I’m your wife not some tramp off the street.”



John stared at her with his mouth open, “I never said you were ‘some tramp off the street,’ all I wanted was to have a good time with my wife. Fuck. You’re taking this too far.”



“Maybe I am,” she hissed, throwing away a wadded up paper towel into the trash. “Or maybe I just want to get some stuff done, like go to the grocery store without the kids begging me to buy chocolate and sugary pop.”



John closed his eyes and took a deep breath running his hand through his hair, “I’m sorry. I just thought… never mind. I’m sorry,” he said then left the kitchen.



The day went from bad to worse. The tension from the morning simmered all day, bubbling up around the edges. He left mid afternoon and went to his office at school to try to get some work done, but it was a pointless effort. He was too hurt from being turned down by his wife. His insides ached and turned. There was no way he could focus on work, so he came back home.



The kids had returned by then and Abby was practicing for her upcoming recital at the piano in the living room. He stood at the door watching silently as his wife was hard on their daughter. Every mistake she made was terrible, every blip and slipped finger seemed to be the worst thing in the world. It was too much, “She’s just a kid,” he thought, feeling anger nearly burst inside him. Once Tammy started her “Only quality counts and you should only be exceptional ” speech it was too much for him.



“Give her a break!” John thundered from the doorway. Both his wife and daughter gasped and turned around. “Abby, darling, it sounds great! Yeah there’s a few rough spots but you have a few days to work it out. It will be great, don’t let her get you down,” he said.



Then he turned his attention to his wife, “And you need to stop being so wicked. This is practice. That’s what you do; practice. Don’t make her hate it. Then, she won’t want to play anymore.”



Tammy stood quiet with her arms closed over her chest and Abby slipped off the piano bench, nodding to her father before leaving them alone. They had a quiet fight in the living room, not raising their voices so the kids wouldn’t hear. The subject went from piano, to work, and to all sorts of family problems. Eventually it all came against him. His wife was picking him apart right there in the living room.



“And you’re quite the model of perfection yourself, aren’t you John?” she said, glaring at him.



John clenched his fists together, finding some way to let his pent up anger escape without doing anything stupid, like breaking that lamp he hated that sat on an end-table. It was completely out of place. “I’m going to leave. I can’t be here. Not with you. Not tonight. I might come back to sleep or I might check into a hotel. But I don’t want to see you for a little while.”



Tammy just stared at him, mouth gaping. Once he left to go grab a few things, she realized he was serious. She hurried up after him into the bedroom, “You’re kidding right?” she asked watching him in the closet picking out a few articles of clothing.



“No, I’m not. I’m not leaving forever. But just leave me alone right now. Please,” he said as he stuffed a shirt and pair of jeans into a small duffel bag. He quickly got a pair of boxers out of a drawer then zipped up the bag.



“Why? What did I do?” she scoffed.



“You’re being yourself and I just don’t feel like taking it right now,” he said, slinging the bag over his shoulder. He felt taller and stronger in front of his wife than he had in a long time. “I don’t deserve to be torn apart and treated like dirt by you, or anyone. I need to get away for a little while. And if I don’t come back by ten o’clock, you’re going to tell the kids I’m spending the night at my brothers. Why? I really don’t care, you can figure that out.”



“No, no, you can’t!” Tammy gasped.



John turned and walked out the bedroom door, looking over his shoulder, he said, “Watch me.”



He quickly told his kids that he was going to the gym then meeting up with his brother. They begged to come but he said it was a boy’s night and that he needed some guy time. He promised them they could go with him next time.



It was still early in the evening when he left. He drove through the city. John went up and down busy roads for a few hours, trying to clear out his head. He passed by the office where Maggie worked. It may have been on purpose, but he wasn’t really sure. It was obviously closed at this hour on a Saturday night and he began to wonder if Maggie was home.



He tried to occupy his mind with other thoughts, but the gorgeous woman who said she could give him everything he desired kept popping into his head. John slammed his hands on the steering wheel in frustration. “I’m a thirty-eight year old man!” he screamed at himself, “A fucking man, and not some bitch to my wife.”



He stopped at a coffee shop, and stayed inside, sipping his caffeine and watching young adults chatter about their immensely difficult lives. At least it was a small distraction.



Around ten-thirty he left the coffee shop and drove to the nearest cheap motel. He checked in, put the room on a credit card, and got back in his car. He drove around to the back lot and parked his car and sat.



He closed his eyes, calming down for the first time, truly, all day. He left the car on for heating purposes only, and tried to figure out what he was doing. After a few short minutes, he put the car in reverse and left the parking lot.



He drove down the street, remembering clearly where Maggie lived. His heart began to race the closer he got, “Is this stupid? What if she’s not there? What if this had just been a string me a long kind of game that a young woman found amusing?”



He went through the apartments. He kept hearing Maggie’s voice in his head, directing him where to go. He passed by her parking spot and sighed with anxious relief when he saw her car parked. After searching the street for a spot, John got out, zipped up his coat, took a deep breath and headed for her apartment.



He hadn’t been this nervous since he went out on a date in his undergraduate years. His heart pounded in his chest, and its sound was audible to his ears. John arrived at her door, looking down at the familiar welcome mat, knowing he was in the right place.



John lifted his hand, took a stuttering breath and knocked on Maggie’s door.



Inside, Maggie jumped, startled from a knock on her door near midnight. She closed her book and pulled the blanket off her legs before going to the door.



He waited a few moments, rubbing his hands together to keep them warm. He looked up when he heard the deadbolts clicking. If his heart were to beat any faster, he’d go into cardiac arrest.



The door opened, and the beautiful creature standing inside took John back. She was everything he wanted, he was sure now. He was certain this was no longer going to be a fantasy; this was about to become real. It could be the worst mistake of his life, but he didn’t care anymore. He couldn’t live not knowing what could have happened.



He drank her in with his eyes. Suddenly the wind didn’t feel as cold against him. Maggie stood there, quiet, letting him look her over and take in everything she encompassed. Standing there in her foyer, wearing only a snug little white t-shirt, no bra and with the cold air coming in from the outside her nipples swelled quickly underneath, poking against the fabric, clearly visible. Her lower belly was on display above her sweet pink and white polka dot silk bikini panties.



She was everything he wanted, everything he had fantasized about since he was young. Standing there she looked like a teen rocker girl he would imagine before bed. But, she was real. She was Maggie.



Maggie moved to the side, stunned for a moment that he was here before she welcomed him inside. She felt confused, she wanted to ask questions, to find out what brought John to her door at nearly midnight. She pushed her glasses up on her nose and closed the door.



“John, are you alright?” she asked, watching him take off his coat and drape it over the back of her sofa.



He took a few steps to the stunned girl, seeing her tremble with excitement and a hint of fear. He held her face in his hands and brought her eyes to his, “I’m here, Maggie,” he said quietly, looking into her soul.



“Are you sure?” she asked equally quiet.



John leaned his face into hers, tilting his head just a bit to the left. “More sure than I have been about anything in a long, long time,” he said, bringing her mouth to his.



Maggie closed her eyes and shuddered a moan against his lips. She dropped her head back against the wall, letting his tongue glide over her lips and into her mouth, accepting him.



She raised her hands and placed them around his neck, bringing him closer. Their mouths opened and closed together, in perfect harmony. They tasted each other’s tongues and mouths. Maggie ran her tongue over his bottom lip, savoring every morsel of him. She felt him, his built up lust and desire spilling out into the way he kissed her. He was gentle and rough, tender and sweet, slow and fast, all mixed together.



John pressed harder against her, feeling her need. No words were needed. She sucked his tongue into her mouth, rolling her tongue around it, giving him a hint to what that little tongue stud could do. She then gave him her tongue in return. He slid his hands down from her cheeks, over her neck and shoulders, past her erect nipples and down her belly, around to her round silk covered ass. He squeezed her cheeks and lifted her up, Maggie responded by wrapping her limbs around him, climbing into his embrace.



Their lips never parted as he brought her through the living room to her bedroom. Their kissing grew even more intense as he carried her, the lust boiling over. He held her ass and rubbed against her. He bumped Maggie against the door. She giggled against his mouth and reached over, opening it for them.



John brought Maggie to her bed and laid her down and he straightened out his back, looking down at her. She stretched out across her bed smiling sweetly, inviting him. Her eyes twinkled and her lips shined with saliva from the hungry kiss just moments ago. John admired her laying there.



“What are you waiting for, handsome?” Maggie giggled, sitting up a bit on her elbows.



John leaned down and put his hands on her hips, pushing her little shirt up over her tits. Maggie lifted her arms and shook her brown locks as he pulled her shirt off. Her breasts were more beautiful than he imagined, full, round and creamy with hints of veins running through behind her flesh. Her nipples were perky and erect with brownish pink areola surrounded by the sweetest little bumps.



“You are everything I have ever wanted,” he said as he looked at her body and trailed his hand over her hipbone just above her panties.



Maggie blushed like a little girl and bit her lip. Her stomach trembled as he touched her.



John leaned down again and kissed her lips, licking her soft mouth. Maggie loved how his goatee scratched her face as he moved his lips across her cheek to her neck. His hands groped her, holding her tight as if he was worried she would change her mind and run away. She reached for the bottom of his sweater and pulled it up. John’s hands only left her for a moment so she could pull it off.



Maggie opened her legs so he could climb on top of her. He lifted his knees onto her bed and pressed his chest against hers. Her swollen nipples poked through his chest hair. They found each other’s mouths again and fought for control of the kiss, playfully fighting with each other’s tongues. Loud smacking sounds filled the room as they greedily kissed.



John played with the tongue stud in her mouth, flicking it with his tongue and playfully pulling on it. Maggie hurried with his belt and fly then lifted her feet and pushed his pants down his legs; John kicked them off to help her.



John held her tit with his left hand and felt it’s weight, squeezing and tugging on it just a bit. He steadied himself with his other arm, holding his hand around Maggie’s head. Her hands gripped his sides and hips, pulling him closer to her. Together they began grinding against each other through their underwear.



Maggie’s panties were gathering wetness with each passing second and John’s erection somehow had not poked out of the fly of his boxer briefs. Their mouths parted for a moment and they both opened their eyes, panting against each other’s mouths.



“John,” Maggie said with heavy breath, “May I worship you?”



“Worship me?” John asked, raising an eyebrow with a grin painted on his saliva stained lips.



Maggie nodded, “Yes sir, please,” she replied then wiggled out from under him.



He rolled over onto his side and let her slip away. She got up onto her feet and shimmied her panties down her hips. John watched eagerly as her bare pussy came into view. He hadn’t seen a shaved a woman except in porn. His cock was standing straight up, making a tent of his underwear and he wasn’t shy about it. He watched as she slowly pushed her panties down, a lingeringly slow strip tease just for him. Finally, her lips came into view, shiny with juices.



“Damn,” John mumbled, “Maggie, you are utterly amazing.”



“Thank you sir,” she smiled sweetly as she stepped out of her panties and dropped them to the floor.



Maggie reached for his hand and he willingly gave it. She pulled him off the bed to his feet in front of her and leaned up and dropped a peck on his lips before dropping down to her knees in front of him.



“John,” she said as she pulled his boxer briefs down and his cock sprang out at her. Her thoughts were stopped for a moment as she ogled his length. He was on the larger side over average, thick and veiny. Throbbing and fully erect. Her mouth was near his cock and he could feel her breath on it, “I am going to worship you and give you the most amazing head you have ever had.”



“That sounds like quite a statement,” he teased and reached down touched his erection, just to make sure he was as hard as he thought he was. He couldn’t remember a time he was this erect.



Maggie’s eyes were up to his and she stuck out her tongue dragged it in a slow circle around his bulbous head. “I don’t lie, professor.”



From that small sensation John’s toes curled. He kept his eyes down on her and moved his hand to her hair, brushing a few strands off her face.



Maggie began to work, holding his cock around the base of his shaft and lapping up along his length, coating his flesh in a layer of saliva. She felt the ridges of his veins against her tongue as she licked and took the time to flutter her tongue against his frelenum. John stuttered out a moan.



Maggie grinned and spit onto his shaft. Using her spit as lube she began gently pulling him, slowly. Her small hand just barely closed around his girth. Her mouth disappeared under him and her back arched forward as she kissed his sac through his pubic hair. He admired her ass from this angle; it was perfect.



His eyes fluttered closed and he groaned as she sucked his balls one at a time into her mouth. He rarely got head and it never included attention to his balls. He wrapped his fingers in her hair and pulled her in closer between his thighs. Maggie complied and slapped her tongue against his taut flesh, reaching back to his taint. She gently tugged on his ball skin with her teeth, and then kissed the area that she pulled on. The grip she had on his cock tightening now and her wrist turning just slightly as she stroked him.



“Oh god, Maggie, that’s good,” he mumbled.



Maggie sucked on his balls for a moment longer then pulled her mouth away, “That’s not all I can do.”



John just nodded, he had no reply to that and wouldn’t dare tease her about her skills.



“You ready?” she grinned, her hand pulling his cock hard and fast now.



“For what?” he wheezed.



Maggie dropped her hand and her mouth opened. Her lips spread over the head of his erection, he felt the warmth of her mouth as it surrounded him. John tried to moan but nothing came out from his lips.



She pushed her mouth further down his shaft and he praised how pretty she looked with her mouth wrapped around his member. Her lips stretched and cheeks were sunken in. He felt his cockhead pressing against the entrance to her throat.



Maggie reared her mouth back and spit on his shaft. Her spit dangled from her mouth to his aching flesh as she spoke “Oh my goodness, I can’t get it in my throat,” she said in a playful tone. “It’s just so big.”



John twirled his fingers in her brown locks, “It’s okay, don’t worry about…” before he could finish his sentence, Maggie’s mouth had swallowed his cock and down into her tight soft throat. She didn’t stop till her nose was pressed hard against his pelvis. “Fuck!” he groaned so loud it could have shook the walls of her bedroom.

He reached over and steadied himself on her dresser, his legs could give out at any moment.



Maggie fed on him, slurping and gagging, turning her head side to side, never letting his erection leave her throat. John’s consistent groans just encouraged her, causing her to work harder. All she wanted was to service her lover. Her lips slid up and down his cock as she looked up at him.



Her tongue wiggled inside her mouth, pushing her tongue bead against his organ, massaging the base of his shaft while grinding his cock into her throat. She pushed her tongue out of her mouth with his shaft completely hidden behind her lips and pulled his balls up with her hand to lick them.



John just stared, when his eyes were able to stay open, “Holy fuck, I thought that only happened in porn,” he moaned. His chest was heaving with heavy breath, he didn’t want to cum yet but he wasn’t sure how long he could hold off.



Maggie started giggling and had to pull back to keep from choking. His cock fell out of her mouth with a pop and he gasped. She spit lewdly several times onto his flesh and smeared it along his shaft. Her other hand found her warmth between her thighs and she parted her pussy lips and ran her fingers over her wet folds.



“I want to taste your cum,” she begged. “Please sir, empty your load into my needy mouth.”



John nodded and spoke in a husky tone, “You’ll get it slut. I’m going to fuck that pretty face of yours.”



Maggie grinned a Cheshire grin, her legs twitching as she rubbed her clit, “Oh goody!”



John took his grip of her hair and angled her head back slightly. Her mouth dropped open and he filled the void with his thick meat. Maggie kept her throat loose as he pushed inside. Quickly, he began thrusting into her mouth, drilling his cock into her throat. He felt strong and powerful, and Maggie willingly obeyed.



Dirty sounds of gagging filled the room with John’s groans. He pushed deep inside her and dug his shaft into her throat as far as he could. Maggie had begun digging out her cunt but he didn’t notice. Her mouth was the only thing on his mind and she gave it to him freely.



Her tongue slithered around his shaft when he buried himself inside her and her cheeks sank in as he pulled away. Drool spilled out of her lips and ran down her chin to her tits. He could feel his cock throbbing and the warmth in his loins about to explode. He pulled her face to his pelvis as his body started shaking.



“Oh fuck, fuck,” he roared as his seed shot into her throat.



Maggie gulped it down without hesitation and John pulled back allowing the last rope to drop on her tongue. His musky tasting cum coated her mouth and throat and he finally pulled away with a relieved gasp.



She wasn’t ready for him to pull away yet. Maggie suckled his vulnerable flesh, gently taking his cock back into her mouth. She swirled her cum splattered tongue against his member. The sensations were overwhelming and John’s entire being twitched.



Maggie sat up, one hand still working her pussy, with the other she wiped her lips after swallowing, “Very delicious, professor, slightly salty and musky, just how I like it.”



John shook his head and wiped the sweat off his brow, “You’re right, I never had a blow-job like that, ever.”



Maggie smiled, “You’re very welcome.” With his help she got back to her feet.



“I’m going to need a minute, I hope that’s okay,” John said as he sat down on the edge of the bed.



“Of course,” Maggie kissed his forehead, “Would you like a glass of water?”



“You are the perfect woman,” he replied.



Maggie nodded, “I do my best,” and scurried off to the kitchen.



She returned promptly with a glass of ice water and handed it to him. She sat down on the bed next to him and gently trailed her nails along his shoulder. He gulped down the water then looked over at her.



“Tell me something, John,” Maggie bit her lip as she teased his earlobe with her fingertip. “Tell me something else you’ve never done sexually.”



John finished the water then leaned over her to place the empty cup on the nightstand, “Well, one thing comes to mind.”



Maggie nodded for him to continue then began kissing along his jaw line.



“I’ve never had anal sex.”



She lifted her head back up and had a concerned look on her face, “You’ve never fucked a girl’s ass?”



John shook his head, “Always wanted to, but the Mrs. would never let me. I stopped asking ages ago.”



Maggie kissed his lips, “I’m your slut John, and you can do anything you want with me.”



He nibbled her bottom lip, “That you are,” he said then pushed her down onto the pillows.



Maggie’s legs opened for him as he maneuvered himself to his knees and climbed on top of her. He got his first view of her available pussy and the shiny green curved barbell that adorned her clit hood. He flicked it playfully with his finger, “I’ve never seen this before.”



Maggie squirmed as the flick of the jewelry teased the hidden area of her clitoris, “Do you like it?”



“I do, it’s very pretty,” he continued to play with it, dragging his fingers over it and tugging just slightly. “Did it hurt?”



“Surprisingly not one bit,” Maggie replied as she stacked the pillows so she could rest with a better view of John. “The worst part was taking off my pants for a total stranger. But he was professional, and I didn’t even realize he had done it until he said he was finished.”



John chuckled as his hand caressed the beautiful pussy of his lover. Her lips folded in on themselves flawlessly. Her cunt was neatly tucked away behind her bare folds.



Her warmth radiated onto his palm, “So the rewards definitely outweigh the risk, then?”



“Oh absolutely, very much worth the fifty dollars and bit of humiliation it took to get it done.”



His has stroked her soft bare skin for just a moment longer before he leaned down and licked up the slit of her pussy. Her scent immediately over powered him and he was hooked. She tasted better than she smelled. Her folds were soft and the flesh behind them was like velvet. Her fluids coated his tongue as he tasted her. Maggie let out a soft satisfied moan and pinched her nipple.



His tongue poked into her hole and more fluids seeped out into his mouth. She tasted like heaven. He probed his tongue into her cunt. John groaned into her body then flattened his tongue as he lapped up to her clit. His tongue flicked against the barbell and Maggie squirmed. He drew circles over her clitoris and enjoyed feeling the jewelry move in his mouth.



Maggie’s toes curled and her moans begged for him not to stop. She cupped and groped her breasts, tugging on her nipples as he consumed her.



He held her thighs open. Her juices leaked over her ass and down onto the sheets. He sucked her clit into his mouth and gently bit on it. Maggie’s hips bucked against his face and his tongue slid back down to her cunt. He poked his tongue inside her, teasing her, and then took long careful laps from her hole and up to her clit over and over until his lover began panting.



“Please sir, please put your fingers inside me,” she moaned.



John kissed her hard clitoris and moved his hand to her cunt. He traced the outline of her entrance with his fingers, feeling her silken juices. John pushed his pointer finger inside her.



Her walls were soft; they felt like satin with sponginess along the top. He gently pushed his finger in and out. She was tight and he pushed his second finger inside. Her body welcomed it and her hips pushed into his fingers. He dragged his fingers along her smooth walls, fucking her tenderly.



He looked up over her body as his tongue wiggled on her clitoris. Her eyes fluttered between open and closed and her mouth hung open as she moaned. Her stomach sunk in with every deep breath showing off her hipbones and the outline of her ribs as he pleasured her.



He lifted his mouth off her pussy to get a better view. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. Maggie was comfortable and in touch with her needs.



Her juices leaked over his hand as he dug inside her. Driving his two fingers in and out as Maggie fucked his fingers. Her hips rolled and ground onto his hand.



“Oh my goodness, that’s so good,” she panted.



John pushed her hand off her tit and he bit her breast. His teeth sank into her flesh as he drove his fingers into her body. He licked and kissed where he bit her and then drew his tongue over to her nipple. Her body was hot against him and her cunt was boiling around his fingers.



His cock had come back to life, standing at attention and begging to be touched.



Her body trembled violently and her heels dug into the sheets making them ripple across the bed. John lifted his mouth from her breast to watch the beauty of her face as she neared her orgasm.



“Oh my goodness, oh fuck” she whimpered. Her chest and cheeks flushed red as the pleasure over powered her.



“That’s a good girl,” John said, coaxing the orgasm out of her as she rode his fingers. He curled them up inside her massaging her g spot, “Cum for me, cum for me, my slut.”



Maggie spoke in broken words, only “fuck, oh god,” and “John” were audible between her purrs and moans.



Her cunt gripped his fingers, squeezing tight and releasing rhythmically, until forcing them out. Maggie had gone silent and her orgasm squirted violently put of her. Soaking John’s body and the sheets.



John was stunned.



Maggie’s eyes slowly opened as her breathing calmed, “oh wow,” she said softly.



“That’s… Wow, I’ve never seen that before either. You are just full of surprises aren’t you?”



Maggie rubbed her cheeks into the pillows as her body shook with post orgasmic quakes, “Hope you don’t mind.”



“Are you kidding me!” he laughed. “That was amazing!”



Maggie giggled as John settled down on the pillows next to her, “Thank you sir. I want to amaze you.”



He kissed her lips gently, “Please don’t stop.”



She pecked his lips several times, tasting herself on his mouth as she climbed on top of him, “I won’t, I promise.”



Her hand found his erection once again and she sat up on his hips, hovering over him. She placed her knees on either side of him and her pussy less than inch from his cock.



“John, I’ve wanted you since the moment I saw you,” she said as she teased his cock against the folds of her dripping pussy.



“I know, I have too,” he said, looking at the stunning creature on his lap. “I haven’t wanted anything this bad”



Maggie smiled sweetly and lifted her body, settling his cock right at the entrance to her cunt, “Fifteen years John, fifteen years since you have been inside another woman, are you glad it’s me?”



“Oh god yes, Maggie. You are well worth the wait,” he held her hips as she lowered down onto his shaft.



Her heat engulfed him. Her body slid down his pole and settled on him, wrapped around his cock.



“Oh god, your cunt is so soft and wet and hot,” he groaned, looking up at Maggie.



Her heat spread to him and filled his body with warmth. The walls of Maggie’s cunt stretched to fit his girth inside. Maggie rocked just slightly on his lap, holding his organ deep inside her. Her mouth dropped open in pleasure as their eyes locked.



They were connected, completely, finally.



Maggie lifted her hands behind her head as she began bouncing on his erection. Showing off her body as her hips danced in his lap. A private show for John’s eyes as she rode him.



He lifted his hips and met her thrusts, grinding himself into her. His cock pushed against her cervix as her body came down on him. She let out a yelp of pleasure as she felt his member in her stomach.



“Holy fuck, you fit so good inside me,” she moaned, dropping her head back. Her breasts bounced in circles on her chest and her hair danced around her shoulders. Her hips rolled down into him, digging his organ inside her.



“I could fuck you forever,” he moaned back, in awe of her body bouncing and rocking on his.



“Please do!” Maggie squealed.



John groped her tits, squeezing them together roughly, and pulling her nipples between his fingers. His large hands filled with soft breast flesh, fingertips sinking in.



“Do you like my tits?” Maggie asked, biting her lip.



“I love them,” he grunted as she impaled her body on his erection.



Maggie dropped down and catching herself on her hands next to his head. She kissed his lips and moaned into his mouth. John grabbed her hips, digging his fingers into her skin, pulling her into him. Their bodies worked together in pleasurable unison.



Maggie’s walls squeezed John’s cock as she pulled up and loosened as she came down. She milked him with her cunt.



“I love how you feel inside me. You’re so thick, my cunt has to stretch for you,” she panted against his mouth.



“I can feel your fluids leaking on my balls. You’re such a hot slut,” he grunted then covered her mouth with his.



Their bodies rocked together firmly, filling each other’s needs. John’s organ slid into her and he pressed his hips up to fill her completely as she came down on him. Their tongues wrestled as they moaned back and forth into each other’s mouths. John relished the sensation of her hard nipples rubbing along his chest.



A thin layer of sweat coated both of their bodies. The room smelled of sex and the strong, delicious aroma of Maggie’s cunt.



John could feel himself getting close again and wasn’t ready for this delight to end just yet. He pulled Maggie’s hips down onto him. Her cunt continued to pulse around his throbbing erection.



“What’s wrong?” Maggie asked, nuzzling her nose against his.



“Nothing, nothing at all. I just don’t want to cum yet,” John grinned.



Maggie rolled her hips just slightly as she caught her breath.



“I still want your ass,” he said.



“So take it!” Maggie beamed.



With those words John lifted Maggie off him and put her on the bed. He slid off then pulled her off the edge by her ankles causing her to squeal.



“There’s lube in the nightstand,” Maggie said as she positioned herself on her hands, bent over the side of the bed.



John reached over and rummaged through the drawer, quickly finding warming lubricant. He squeezed a couple drops onto his finger and Maggie reached behind her and pulled her ass cheeks open.



Her bud was tiny and welcoming. John smeared lube onto it, tenderly massaging the entrance to her ass.



Maggie looked over her shoulder as she giggled and squirmed, “Sorry, it tickles.”



John swatted her ass with his other hand, “Stay still slut,” he said firmly.



“Owwie!” she squealed, “Yes sir.”



“Do you like that?” he asked and spanked her again, harder this time.



Maggie’s body writhed and she wiggled her ass, “Oh yes sir, very much.”



He worked his finger into her tight asshole and lubed up his cock, “I should have known, sluts like you always like to be spanked.”



“I love it sir, it feels so good when you spank me,” Maggie moaned and pushed back against his finger.



John pulled out his finger and positioned his member at her asshole, “I make you feel good other ways don’t I?” he said then pushed his cock into her tight hole.



He pushed past her rim and her anus sucked his cock inside. He sank into her and Maggie let out a deep guttural moan as her back arched.



“Fuck yes, you do, professor. You make me feel wonderful,” she purred.



Her hands dropped from her ass and she held her torso up on the bed as she backed up into his pelvis.



John stood still for several moments, feeling Maggie’s tight ass suck on his erection as she rocked back and forth on it. He held her hips idly, breaking only to spank her, which made her anal walls squeeze tighter around him as she shimmered with pleasure.



“Fuck my ass professor, fuck my dirty little hole,” Maggie begged as she slammed her body back into him.



“Filthy little girl,” he groaned and pushed her chest into the bed and began drilling into his slut.



Maggie winced from the intense pressure of his weight slamming into her anus and gripped the sheets. His hand spanked her ass and the other reached under her and pawed at her nearest tit.



“Fuck yes, that’s what your slut wants, fuck my ass just like that,” Maggie cried out.



John slapped her ass repeatedly, drilling into her hot, smooth anus. He pinned Maggie to the bed with his weight. His balls slapped against her pussy with every thrust. He groaned and bit down on her shoulder. Maggie screamed out in gratification as his teeth dug into her flesh.



Pure animalistic lust had over taken them both.



Maggie slipped her had underneath her and found her clit. She rubbed it wildly, making her legs quake as he used her ass for his pleasure.



He licked her shoulder where a trickle of blood had leaked. Maggie was completely his now. He knew it. He bit down and sucked hard, leaving another mark on her shoulder.



Maggie’s anus milked his cock as she panted and moaned. John’s groans turned to roars as he pounded into her ass even harder.



John fucked his slut into the mattress, using her body, thrusting everything he had into her ass. Maggie screamed and cried out in satisfaction as he tore her anus open. He squeezed and spanked her ass so hard with his hand; he left bruises on her flesh.



Maggie whimpered, “Cum with me, please sir, I beg you.”



John wanted to say something to tease her, but he knew he was too close, he just grunted, “Yes, Maggie.”



He felt his balls tighten and the rush of intense pleasure flood through his cock and shoot deep inside her anus. He growled like a beast as he emptied what felt like a huge load inside his slut.



Just as he came he could feel Maggie under him, her body writhing helplessly. Her ass clenched tight, pulsing on his sensitive cock. Her breath was fast and her heart pounded as she gushed down her thighs.



He collapsed down on her, barley getting his knees on the bed so he wouldn’t slip off. His erection relaxed, but stayed snug in her ass as they lay together. Maggie slid her hand over and found his and squeezed it. He rested his hot cheek on hers. Both of them were covered in sweat, Maggie’s hair was stuck to most of her face.



Blissful moments passed before John slipped out of her ass and off her. He moved up to the pillows and laid back. Maggie followed him and snuggled up into his nook.



There weren’t any words needed, but John said them anyway, “Thank you Maggie, that was amazing.”



Maggie nuzzled into him and wrapped her arm over his chest, “No need to thank me,” she purred with her eyes closed.



His cum leaked out of her ass and down onto the sheets.



“Maggie…” John whispered.



“Yes?” she asked raising her face to look at him.



“I don’t want this to be a one time thing, you know that right? I don’t want to sound clingy, but that was the best sex I ever had.”



Maggie grinned and dropped a kiss on his mouth, “I know, it was, and I don’t want it to be either.”



John kissed her flushed cheeks and brushed the sticky hair out of her face, “I’m going to get in trouble with you around.”



The smile didn’t leave her lips and she ran her fingers over his nipple, “I can keep a secret, if you can.”



John pulled her face closer to his kissed her hard, with deep rooted passion, before slowly pulling away. “I absolutely can.”



Maggie nuzzled his cheek and whispered, “What do we do now?”



“We go to sleep.”



She laughed and pulled her face away to look at his eyes, “No, I mean, after tonight.”



John traced her cheekbone, getting lost in her eyes, “I go home tomorrow. Then we see each other when we can.”



Maggie opened her mouth to say something and John placed a finger gently over her lips. The realization of their relationship came over them and he could see it on her face.



“Maggie,” he said gently, “I’m going to see you any time I can. This is a new thing to me, so we are going to have to work out some kinks, but we will do whatever we can, okay?”

Three weeks had passed since I had found out my 20 year old grand daughter worked at a massage parlor. Not just that but we had sex. And I must say some of the best sex I can remember. The funny thing is that Mary, her real name never said anything to me after she got home that night . And I never said anything to her. Things went on like nothing had happen. I was thinking, was it a dream? I was thinking of going back but wanted to make sure she was going to be working.



“Mary are you going to be at the shop today?” That is all I said. The look on her face told me what I wanted to know. We had just got up from lunch and I was putting things away.



“Yes I will!” Mary walked out of the room. Then I could hear her car door close and then her driving off. I went to the bathroom and took a nice long hot shower. When I was done I shaved and took an enema. I was thinking of something different today.



“Hello Karen. How is my sweet girl doing today?” I walked in the back with Karen and we stood by the pictures. On the wall was 3 new girls and one new TS. I smiled and asked how ‘that one’ was. “Can you tell me about her?” I pointed to a very soft looking TS. She had a nice set on her I would say about 36c. Great looking legs and about 6.5″ of meat.



“She is new here. From what I understand she is great with men and women. She enjoys giving and getting. In all ways, oral, anal and spanking. And best of all she does not deep throat. That you will like!”



“Has she been with Rose yet?” I said it without thinking. I think Karen knew I was going to ask about her.



“No she has not! Would you like me to set it up for you? And how would you like it? Rose first or Cathy?” Karen looked at me. She knew I enjoyed a TS from time to time and she knew I would love to see a girl with one.



“Send Rose in first.”



I took my shower and got on the table. I was face down when Rose walked in. I could not hear her but felt the cool air on my ass when she open the door. I then felt her fingers on my legs. She started to massage my legs. Up and down. She never said a word. Her hands moved up close to my balls and then back down. This went on for about 20 minutes. I then felt her hands on my back. She was standing at my side. I open my eyes and looked at her body. She was nude, like all the girls when they come in. Her fingers went right to the spots that I need them at.



“That does feel great Rose. I have been thinking of your hands.” I gave her a smile, looking down at her shaved pussy. “And a few other things!” Her hand went down to my ass and rubbed it. I felt her finger going down my crack and as it went I felt oil being pored on my crack. My ass hole tighten up as her finger found it.



“Now, now Sir. We can not have that happen. You have to learn how to relax. If I’m going to put my finger in you. You have to relax more. Now take a deep breath and let it out as I go in.” I felt her finger slide into my ass. Soon Rose was finger fucking my ass. “Now doesn’t that feel better Sir?”



What could I say. It did! Her finger was not that long and it was not that wide but it did feel good. I have a thing about getting a finger in my ass. I have a thing about getting more then just a finger in my ass also. Rose was doing a great job . My cock was hard and I think she knew it.



“Would you like to roll over now Sir? That way I can see your cock. I have been thinking of it for the last few weeks. To tell you the truth I have been thinking of it for the last three weeks. I did not want to bring my work home and I’m glad that you have not asked me to. It is best to keep that here. Is that okay with you Papa?” Mary calls me that from time to time. I call her my little one.



“Mary I think that it is best that we keep it here. If we start this at home I might not ever let you leave. So we shall leave it at your work. It would cost me all I make if I we did it at home. So lets just leave well enough alone.” I wish that we could do it at home but I understand that once that box is open it will just start something that we might not like.



“Sir I was thinking of trying to get you all the way into my mouth today. Karen told me that you would like to try Cathy today. I have worked with him or should I say her once since she came here. He is not to big but from watching him suck I would say she is good. A few of the other guys enjoy him, sorry her. Just tell me what it is that you would like to try.”



“I don’t know my dear. As you have been told I enjoy anal both ways. I would enjoy seeing how it felt to be fucked by you with a strap-on. You do have a strap-on that you use on guys like me? Or don’t you do that?” I knew from Karen that Rose loved to do that. Karen once told me that she wanted all the girls to do it. All but a few enjoyed it but they still did it.



“Yes I do, do it. And best of all I enjoy the power that is gives me. Something about fucking a guy turns me on. I get to the point that I feel I have a real cock. I know that most men enjoy or should I say love to fuck a girls ass. I remember that last time you did!” Yes I did. Watching a girl or a TS take it like that. I’m not into guys unless they are a TS or a CD. A TS is a great turn on for me. Looking at them seeing a cock and tits is the best. A CD is okay only if they can pass.



Rose left and walked back in with a strap-on on. It looked like the real thing. About 7.5 inches long. Rose walked in front of me and as I lay on my back it came over my face. I turned some and asked.



“Would you like me to suck that for you my dear? Try to please you. I would enjoy letting you watch if you like.” This was part of the game. Something that I got into and I knew some of the girls enjoyed it also. I might kneel in front of them. Bend over the top as they lay back. Or take it this way. The way I enjoyed it the most was to kneel in front of them or over them as they lay back. I told Rose that I would enjoy it if she would lie down and have me kneel on the table and go down on her. She did.



The feeling if a strap-on is not the same as a real cock. It is not warm and does not give like the real one. But when a girl is on the other side you can look down the cock and see her pussy. Looking at that turns me on as much as sucking her cock. Knowing that she is going to push it into my ass also is a turn on. After about 10 minutes of this and her talking to me I was ready. Rose moved slowly and I did also. I got on my back and was looking down my body as she get between my open legs.



I watched as she put some anal lube on her cock. I also watched as she looked at my ass. The look was not unlike the way most guys look at a girls pussy or ass just before they stick it in. The look of lust. The look of power. That is what I enjoy most about ass fucking. The power it gives you. The feeling that you are doing something so taboo. And for a guy to let a female do it to them. I give myself up to them. I trust them. I let them see inside me, to go to a place in me that 99% of the women I know do not know about me. Then I felt her push it.



At first I had little pain then I felt more. I started to take a deep breath just before Rose pushed. I would let it out as she pushed in. And then she would pull out a little. Then in , then out. Rose was making love to my ass, not fucking it. Slowly in and out. Soon I could hear her. I could see her looking down at it as it went in and out. Just like I did when I fucked her ass three weeks ago.



Since I was on my back Rose could see my balls and cock moving as she push in and out. I could see her tits bounce each time she would pushed in. I felt thighs on my thighs each time she bottomed out. Watching her eyes as they looked at my cock and balls. Looking at my hole taking her strap-on in each time she would push down. Watching it, trying to hold it from coming out as she pulled back. I felt her small hands holding my hips. The same way I held her hips weeks before. All at once I could feel myself starting to get into this. I was now pushing back up on each of her down strokes. I was now helping her fuck me. My hands went to her hands and held them in place.



“Oh my god does that feel great. I feel like you have a real cock. Watching you as you fuck me is one of the greatest things I have watched or felt. I’m almost ready to cum my dear!” What could I say. I now had my eyes close and fell into a dream state. My ass took her cock and I just let it happen. Now I knew why so many women enjoy this. Why they let a man fuck them like this. The feeling of giving yourself to them. Rose knew I was about to cum and she started to slow down. She still held on to my hips but did not move as fast. The door opened and Cathy walked in. The first thing I saw was her tits. A soft white globe. Her tan make them look bigger then they were. I would say she was about a 38c. Her nipples brown on a white background. My head was still back and was turned so I had a good view. Then I started to move my eyes down . Down till I could see her cock. Shaved, smooth looking and not hard but not soft. Without thinking I licked my lips. This did not get by Rose.



“So I see you like what you see Sir. Would you like to try to get her hard with your mouth as I keep fucking you slow?” Rose had never stopped fucking me. I could feel her about half way in me.



“Yes I think I would my dear.” I knew I wanted it. I wanted to let my grand daughter watch me suck a cock. To show her that I could suck a cock like she did. I was thinking that maybe that she got sucking cock from me. I never took my eyes off of Cathy’s cock as she walked towards me. My mouth opened as she got closer. I soon felt the tip on my lips and I kissed it. I could hear Rose talking.



“Sir that looks so sexy. Watching a man kiss her cock like that. Watching you as your lips push the head back towards her. Now open and lick the tip. That’s it. Now open more so I can see it going in. Let me see you take it all the way in. That’s it!” I had Cathy’s cock all the way in. She was, or should I say ‘he was’ not all that long. I would say about 6 to 6.5 inches. Every now and then I would look up at her face and she was looking down at my cock. By now I was as hard as I have ever been. Getting fucked by a girl turns me on. But sucking a TS cock was making me harder. I open wide to try to say something and I felt her pull out and then back in. I had her balls on my left cheek. I could see her looking at my cock and feel a strap-on in my ass.



“Rose was right when she told me that you had a big cock. I wish I had one that size. Your mouth feels great on my. If you keep this up I might cum in your mouth. Is that what you want!” I felt her cock going in and out. I felt a strap-on going in and out. I pulled back and said .



“YES.” A one word answer. Short and sweet. I wanted to feel her shoot into my mouth. I felt a hand on my cock and knew it had to be my grand daughters. She was jacking me off and I sucked a cock in front of her. Her hand came up as her cock pulled from my ass. At the same time I felt a cock pull out from my mouth. Then I felt a cock going in my ass at the same time one went into my mouth and her hand came down on my cock. It was a dream come true. It felt as if we all had the same movement. Both cocks went in and a hand went down. Cocks out and hand up. I was getting close.



“Yes Sir, She is close and I can tell your close. I want to watch you shoot your cum out and watch her shoot her cum in your mouth.” Rose was now fucking my ass. I could feel her pulling out and going back in. She now fucked me like I fuck a pussy fast and deep. I felt her hips hit my thighs each time she went down. I felt her hand moving faster and faster. Her hand slapping my balls with each down stroke. I could feel Cathy’s hands on my face as she now fucked my mouth. Words can not tell how this feels. You have to live it.



I felt my cum starting to move. I pushed up on my hips and that told them I was close. Cathy watched and knew when I was ready. With my mouth open all the way I felt it hit the back of my throat. I made a sound like I was gagging but it was from joy. I was about to cum. Cathy pulled out and started to jack me off. I felt a hand squeeze my balls and I started to cum. Then I looked up just as Cathy started to cum.



“OH my god! I’m watching two cocks shooting. One is shooting in my lovers mouth and the other one all over my hand. What a site.” I felt Cathy’s cum going into my mouth and running down my face. Then I felt my grand daughters mouth take my cock. I looked down the best I could and could see her. I can not tell you how it felt watching her do that. And at the same time taking a cock into my mouth. I swallowed and I could see Rose swallow as well. Then she closed her mouth around me and I came in her mouth. She did not swallow. I sucked the rest of Cathy’s cum and then I open my mouth to let Rose see it. Her mouth came off my cock and I thought now what?



I have done this a few times. It is called ‘snowballing’. I watched Rose move towards me and then she bent. I was thinking that she was going to spit my cum into my mouth, but she bent more and kissed me. I felt my cum come out of her mouth and into my mouth. It was great. Then I watched as Cathy bent and kissed the tip of my cock. Her mouth open some and she sucked what she could from me. Rose was still close to her and she kissed Rose I knew that she was pushing my cum into her mouth. Rose and I kissed once more As we kissed I could taste more of my cum in her mouth. I then pushed it back into her mouth. Rose pulled back and kissed Cathy. I watched as my cum went back and forth between them. I was still on my back and they pulled apart. I could see my cum dripping out. They bent and then kissed me at the same time. Feeling my cum dripping into my mouth almost made me shoot once more.



“That my dear Sir was one of the best blow jobs I have ever watched or done. You Sir are a sick man”. Rose kissed me softly on the mouth and then told me that she would like to come back in three weeks once more.



“Next time I would like to watch you and Cathy fuck. Then you both fuck me.”



*



Please let me know how you feel about this story. Good or bad.

I am grading papers when I look up to see Jasmine standing at the doorway of the classroom. I don’t know how long she had been standing there, but it is pretty obvious she wants to see me. I wave her in and she smiles as she nods, walking toward my desk.



“Mr. Thomas?” she says meekly.



“What can I help you with Jasmine?”



“Well, it’s about my report,” she says even more shyly. “I worked real hard on it and I was not expecting the grade I got.”



I look her over and smile. Here is a very bright and beautiful woman of twenty-four standing in front on me and at the moment all I can think about is having my cock in her. Pulling my head out of the gutter I say, “I was surprised with the paper myself, but you left out several, very important details of some of your points.”



“I tried really hard to relay that Mr. Thomas,” she pleads.



I know she tried hard and I feel bad for having to cut her grade shorter than any of her other works, but I just couldn’t play favorites. “This was different than your other papers and I could see you tried something a little different and harder. I graded you accordingly so that you could learn from it and improve yourself.”



“Is there something I can do to make up for it Mr. Thomas?” she asks politely.



“I don’t have anything for extra credit this late in the semester,” I reply.



“Are you sure?” she asks pulling at the hem of her shirt.



I swallow hard. Is this woman toying with me?



“Unless you have some idea then we can work something out,” I say testing the waters.



Jasmine smiles and pulls off her shirt, tossing it to the ground. She stands there with just her skirt and blue laced bra on. “What do you think Mr. Thomas?” she asks. “Will you take fucking my ass as extra credit?”



Once again I swallow hard. I can feel my cock harden and push against my pants. “Yes, I think we can do that,” I say.



Forgive me, I am weak I know, but when you have a twenty-four year old standing half naked in front of you, taking off her clothes, you don’t hesitate.



“Good,” she says unclasping her bra and letting it fall to the floor at her feet. “Are you ready for me Mr. Thomas?”



She walks around my desk and pushes me back in my chair before turning around and bending over the desk. I get up instantly and pull off her skirt then I run my tongue in small circles around her lower back before moving down her ass. I plant gentle kisses along her skin before running tongue along the fabric of her matching blue panties.



Jasmine moans quietly as my tongue traces its way along the crack of her firm ass. I take her panties and begin pulling them off, sliding them down her long, sexy legs. Then I lower my head and kiss the top of her ass crack. She lets out a soft moan as I drag my tongue down her ass crack and then back up.



Jasmine moves up onto the desk further onto her hands and knees. Then she lets her legs slide out, still bent at the knees, until she is practically doing the splits right there on my desk. It just makes her ass look even more irresistible. I run my tongue down her ass crack and onto her tight little hole.



“Mr. Thomas—” she starts to say, but is cut off when my tongue slips into her asshole. “Oh my god,” she moans instead.



I tease her a little, by licking around her tight little hole, driving her crazy.



“Don’t tease me,” she says.



I do as corrected and I thrust my tongue as far into her asshole as I can.



“That feels so good,” she groans.



When her ass is nice and wet, I push my face into her, forcing my tongue even deeper inside her. I start sliding my tongue in and out until she is nice and loosened up. Then I pull away and stick my finger into her hole.



I slide my finger in slowly, watching as her tight ass swallows up my finger and grips it tightly in place. I can tell she wants more, as her ass is clenching and unclenching around my finger.



“How does it feel?” I ask.



“So fucking good Mr. Thomas. Give me more!”



“How about another finger?” I ask smiling to myself.



“Oh god yes!” she cries.



I push in another finger and start thrusting back and forth. Jasmine buries her face into her arms as I continue to finger fuck her asshole. I lower my face and start to lick around my fingers as they penetrate her depths.



“Put your cock in me now!” she cries. “I want to feel it!”



Now I am beginning to wonder if this is just for extra credit or does she just want a cock in her ass as well.



I gently slide my fingers out of her ass and pull down my pants and underwear. My cock is already as hard as it can be. I spit into my hand and rub my cock with saliva, then spit onto her already glistening asshole. My fingers go back to work, rubbing my saliva into her tight hole.



I pull her ass apart further than it is already being stretched and begin to slide my slippery cock up and down her ass crack before coming to a stop at her tight little hole. She holds her breath as I begin to push. Her ass is tight and doesn’t give much, but I manage to squeeze my cockhead in with a slurping pop.



She groans as her tight hole clamps down around my cock. I stop and let her get used to the feeling. After a while she begins to relax a little more and I begin to move my hips around. I then push forward a little more. I keep her cheeks spread and I stare at my cock, half buried in her ass as she starts to play with her pussy.



“Keep going,” she urges. “I want to feel all of your fucking cock inside me.”



I reach around and grab the front of her thighs, pulling her back a little. She moaned louder as her ass slides down my cock. After a few more minutes I am completely buried in her tight ass. The feeling is amazing and I start grinding my hips into her ass. My balls are pressed firmly against her pussy lips and I can feel the vibrations from her playing with her clit.



“Mmm, I feel so full,” she says. “I just love it.”



As I withdraw I can feel her ass grabbing at my cock, trying to hold me in place. I pull back almost all the way out then push my way back up Jasmine’s asshole, this time a little faster.



“Oh my fucking god,” she whimpers as I bottom out again. She is squeezing her as tightly around my cock and I am having a hard time even moving it. “Faster,” she pleads.



I start fucking her a little faster, trying to control myself. Jasmine begins pushing her hips back at me and I stop. She increases her pace, thrusting her firm ass backward. She drops her head into her arms once again and screams as she is taken by an anal induced climax. I can feel her ass clenching and unclenching around my cock as she tries to milk it with her asshole. The feeling is incredible.



“Come on Mr. Thomas, fuck me!” she cries.



I grab her hips and thrust forward, feeding my cock to her hungry ass. She groans loudly as I pull out again then thrust back even harder. I pound her tight hole, driving my hips down into the desk and stop just before my cock explodes in her.



She turns and looks at me with a look of near sadness. “Do you want to try a different position?”



I nod and pull my cock free from her slippery asshole. She smiles and rolls over onto her back and pulls her legs up to her head. Before me sits her cleanly shaved pussy and I wonder if I would ever get the chance to try it.



Pulling her legs up to her head, her hips raise up off the desk. I move forward and slip my cock into her waiting asshole. This position is even better. I stare down at my cock moving in and out of her body, then up to her face. Her eyes are closed in pleasure and a soft moan resonates from her lips. I know I am not going to last much longer.



“Jasmine,” I say. “I’m going to cum soon.”



She looks up at me and says, “Will you fill my ass up with your hot cum?”



I nod and keep fucking her. I start going faster and faster as I feel the cum rising inside of me. With a groan, my cock spasms and unloads a massive torrent of hot cum deep inside Jasmine’s well fucked asshole.



“Ohhh,” she squeals. “That feels good.”



I keep my cock firmly embedded in her ass for a few moments before I pull out. As my cock slips from her ass, it is followed by a trickle of my cum. I collapse back into my chair.



Without a word, Jasmine slips her panties back on. “Thanks Mr. Thomas, she says kissing me on the cheek. “That was amazing. Do I get that extra credit?”



I smile and say, “You sure do and then some.”



“I guess I will have to do some more extra credit work from now on,” she says snatching up her skirt.



I stare at her ass as she gets dressed. There is a small wet spot forming in her panties and I know it is from my cum dripping out of her freshly fucked asshole.



When she is dressed she heads for the door and before walking out she turns and smiles at me. Maybe I would get to try out the smooth pussy of hers after all.

Dirty Mr. Styles



A Short Erotica Tale By Stacey Taylor Often Writing As Nikki Bastion



Literotica Edition



Dirty Mr. Styles © 2011 Stacey Taylor All Rights Reserved



.One.



‘Morgan Humphrey Styles, Attorney At Law’ read the newly stenciled sign on the glass door. Though he was quickly nearing the age of retirement, Morgan Styles had no intentions of giving up his long held position as Karas Cove’s only resident defense attorney anytime soon. Recently relocated to a brand new single office, and now with both a personal secretary and front office receptionist, as well as his handy paralegal, he felt on top of the world and ready to embark on a whole new caseload.



Styles had spent the last decade sharing offices with other attorneys arriving from out of town, as well as real estate lawyers and a title and loan company. The small, sterile offices made him feel less important than he truly believed himself to be and the constant noise and traffic made it nearly impossible to focus on the legal work he needed to complete on time.



Now, he had his very own office — a long time coming. Rich pile carpet in deep rustic brown, a heavy mahogany desk, and matching bookshelves gave his personal office an exquisite, old world feel. Nothing beat the high back leather chair he’d picked out for himself down in Flagstaff. He’d even splurged for the office girls to have nice oak desks and file drawers. When he wanted to be, Morgan Styles was most generous.



The problem, however, was not an inefficient working environment (at least not anymore). The problem, as it had been for nearly 7 years now, since his wife’s curious demise, was personal inefficiency. Morgan Styles stood a prominent 6 foot tall and was once quite the athlete. As he’d crossed into his 50s, the bulk and muscle had softened, ultimately turning to flab and fat.



His round, bulbous shape weighed in over 240lbs by the time he’d reached his current age of 63. His thinning hair had remained dark, though in recent years, streaks of gray permanently established themselves around his temples. Morgan Styles was even less enthusiastic about the man boobs.



At home, while he was hygienically correct, his busy schedule allowed a world of clutter to pile up in spots in most every room in his beautiful brown stucco home. He’d lost his housekeeper to a relocation and rarely bothered with grocery shopping anymore, choosing to dine at his favorite restaurants in town. It saved time and trouble.



Then there was his love life, or, to be frank, his sex life. Truth be told, both were non existent. He still yearned for somewhat of a sex life.



Somewhere along the way, his schedule removed him from any real social life after his wife’s death. He’d not loved the woman in nearly 30 years, and while her cause of death had been ruled Undetermined, there were some in town who suspected an unsavory fate had befallen her, as within days of her funeral, Morgan Styles had removed all traces of his wife’s existence from their home. No one had ever seen Morgan Styles grieve for the missus.



Not even at her funeral, attended by hundreds in and outside of the community, had anyone ever seen Morgan Styles appear to be a grieving widower. He seemed calm, assured as always, keeping a refined dignity on hand at all times. If Morgan Styles did grieve, he’d done so in isolation. It was his lack of emotion that roused some suspicions as to the true nature of his wife’s death.



If Morgan Styles had been involved on some level, it behooved the local authorities and no charges were ever filed, nor was any investigation to take place. It seemed that her death, curious as it may have been — a woman in surprisingly good health to simply die in her sleep in the comfort of her own bed — could not generate enough suspicion to do much about. Since her death and subsequent removal from his reality — not even a photograph of her remained anywhere in his home — Morgan Styles continued his established work and dinner routine unabated.



Morgan Styles had a bit of a secret, though. He may have been in his early 60s, but he was still quite highly sexed and masturbated several times a day, usually imagining himself slipping his thick, squat little cock inside the luscious wet hole of any of the cute waitresses at his favorite diners, or the Temp who’d briefly worked for him a few summers previous. Mr. Styles loved his orgasms and enjoyed jerking off every chance he got.



During his nearly 2 hour drive down to Flagstaff, single lane traffic on 89 always helped facilitate his horny rush. He’d get just outside of town, pull into the scenic overlook lot to unzip his pressed slacks, then ease back onto the highway, leisurely fondling his prick for the drive, able to cum within a mile of entering the city. Morgan kept a packet of wet wipes on the seat for clean up and would pull over to repair himself professionally before continuing on. He thrilled at the notion of all the people in front of or behind him, passing him, having no idea he was pleasuring himself the whole trip.



When he would dine at the local steakhouse, one of the waitresses, a slender young woman in her early 20s with a surprisingly underdeveloped figure for her age, had been one of his favorite fantasy muses. After finishing his meal, Morgan Styles would steal into the men’s room, lock himself in a stall, push his pants to his knees and stroke his little cock wickedly until he’d shot his creamy jism into the toilet.



Imagining her slinking into the stall with him, rubbing her hands along her tiny body and smiling at him appreciatively was enough of a fantasy he could finish in a minute or two. Jerking off to her was a favorite indulgence. It usually didn’t take him long, nor did he make a lot of telling noises. What he wouldn’t give to fuck her just once.



While not as enticing to him as the notion of some sweet young thing gobbling up his needful prick, he did tend to enjoy slipping out onto his patio when his neighbors were enjoying their hot tub. The wife (he’d assumed the couple had been married but didn’t know for sure, he’d never met them) would always strip naked on their patio and stride slowly to the pool, stepping down and straddling her man for some splashing copulation. She was a bit too masculine and hard bodied for his taste but willful naked ladies were never a bad thing, he concluded. T&A is T&A and he loved some T&A.



In the dozens of times Morgan Styles had crept onto his own patio, the couple next door had never seemed to notice — never saw him sitting in his bathrobe in the garden chair, leisurely stroking his cock while watching them fuck and suck each other for hours. Sometimes, he would sit on his patio fully naked and openly masturbate while watching the hot young couple; they never seemed to notice — or if they had, they simply didn’t care. Perhaps they were exhibitionists? Who knows. Morgan enjoyed his live porn act next door and had no intentions of disrupting the show.



What he wanted, and had been more seriously contemplating lately, was to hire himself a personal assistant; one with skills to help him organize his personal life, and one willing to help him find a woman who wouldn’t judge him too harshly. His problem, that he could not escape, was that the pickings for the sort of gal he’d prefer were slim to none at his age. Not even his money (a good chunk of it inherited from his deceased wife) seemed to be enough for women these days. He was too well known locally to ever risk entertaining a prostitute, either in Karas Cove or in Flagstaff.



Then there was his personal secretary, Lena Gilbert, who’d worked for him for over a decade. He’d hired her in her early 40s when she still looked reasonably attractive, specifically because she looked reasonably attractive. Once he’d gotten to know her, however, Morgan Styles recognized he felt nothing for her in any other capacity than employee — and she was indeed fabulous at her job. She kept his office running in tip top shape.



Lena, however, had an ongoing, well known crush on Morgan, always going out of her way to make her attraction known (though with proper discretion, of course), always feeling that he would choose her in the end to avoid being alone. When she wasn’t reminding him of it, she was perfectly willing to wait until he figured out that he loved her all along.



She would be waiting a very long time.



Morgan not only did not love her, he mostly found her rather repellant. She was a tall, thin woman but her overly tanned flesh had begun to resemble dry leather. Her overly dyed red hair had begun to resemble dry broom bristles, and her deep, raspy voice, while never from smoking, tended to make him feel he was conversing with another male. That was mostly where the problem with Lena Gilbert was, as far as Styles was concerned: she was just too mannish for his tastes. That, and she seemed utterly pathetic waiting around on his affections, wasting her life, ignoring his acknowledgment that what she desired stood no chance of ever happening.



Though Morgan knew that he, himself, was certainly no physical catch, he couldn’t help be true to his genuine desires and tastes. He wanted a woman who looked and felt like a woman. He wanted curves. He wanted a nice set of tits he could fondle and suckle. He wanted a pert, round ass he could spank, and a tight pink pussy he could do all sorts of naughty things to.



Morgan Styles would often experience quite lucid dreams of much younger girls, perhaps barely legal, inexperienced, and hungry for attention, wealth, and training. Oftentimes Morgan would become so aroused by its immersive reality he would ejaculate in his sleep. Awake, Morgan found himself distracted by younger girls he’d encounter throughout the day, and struggled to restrain is naughty, perverted urges. So as not to risk his reputation, he found a happy medium with secret fantasy of horny pre teens, or with the kinds of women who were legal, but didn’t quite look like it.



Still, he was rudely aware of the facts of the matter. Women like that were eager for hot, young, well built studs, or men who’d maintained an appealing physique. Those sorts of women would never find him appealing, what with his pudgy round face and double chin, dark thinning beard, his fat, thick little fingers, or his big, round tubby ass. He knew it…but he still hoped.



He’d been thinking quite awhile that if he hired himself a personal assistant, she could help him find just the right woman — this was clearly a job for a woman’s point of view.



Briefly, Morgan had entertained the notion of approaching Nancy Utemeyer (his paralegal), and perhaps Kitty Lopez (his receptionist) — both were quite young 20 somethings and seemed to be fairly in the know about girl things, or dating things, but in the end, he decided against it. Nancy had a boyfriend and seemed overtly — if not overly — religious, believing in the sanctity of matrimony, and he had no desire to remarry. Kitty was single, overweight, not quite appealing enough and usually annoyed him with monotonous tales of the book club she’d recently joined. She didn’t appear to have much of a social life as it was, so probably wouldn’t be the best option.



No, he would hire himself a personal assistant. After he had an opportunity to see her organizing his pitiful personal life, getting to know her somewhat, then he would appeal to her feminine expertise to help him find a woman suitable for him, and of course, give him some pointers on how to make himself more appealing to women, even at his age…and weight.



Morgan Humphrey Styles was an old, perverted fat ass in need of a good woman, an attractive woman, a young woman…a sexual woman.



And he was in need of her very, very soon.



.Two.



It was another bright, sunny afternoon when Morgan Styles finally made time to follow through and place his advertisement in the local Chronicle’s Help Wanted section. Lena was concerned about the placement of the ad, feeling that once again, her skills and talent were being overlooked. While nearly 30 applicants arrived wanting the job, Lena’s inherent cattiness and jealousy took over and many applications became conveniently lost.



Morgan Styles was none the wiser, since most days he was out of the office and in court. He would fire her in an instant if he’d ever discovered her betrayal, but Lena had felt strongly that he didn’t need a personal assistant for anything when he could simply ask her. She’d be perfectly delighted to become his assistant, to take care of his home, to tend to his needs. After discovering he’d placed such an ad, Lena decided to intervene — for his own good. Then she would make the offer to include assistant duties, as well.



Meanwhile, Morgan would ask Lena to bring in the daily applications and grew discouraged at the paltry amount, perhaps three or four over the first week. Surely, more people in this town were in need of a good job? Fortunately for his search, Morgan’s caseload eased up for several days the following week, so he would be in the office and could take interviews himself. Lena seemed put out by the whole notion but it wasn’t her concern. Morgan knew she wanted that job, too, but he had no intentions of offering it to her. She would simply cause a fuss about his desires to find a much younger, far more appealing woman for his other kind of needs.



Wednesday would be Morgan’s last free afternoon to schedule interviews for the week. Then it was back to the grind and many trips back to Flagstaff for work. In fact, he was due in Superior Court bright and early Thursday morning to defend a client on justifiable homicide charges at 9:30am sharp, and really needed to spend Wednesday night reviewing briefs and making sure all the documentation was perfected.



Shortly after 2pm that afternoon, Morgan Styles heard the front doors open and a tiny, sweet voice made of music requesting to speak with him personally. He could see Lena at her desk peering up over her horn rimmed glasses, giving the as of yet seen lady the stink eye. He could not see the receptionist counter from his office desk but heard Kitty Lopez tell her that she would have to fill out an application. He watched Kitty Lopez waddle passed the doorway, and shortly after, waddle by again holding a legal sized application in hand. He felt a disgusted wince wrinkle his features at the swishing sound of her bloated thighs smearing together as she walked, even though when he walked, his bloated thighs made exactly the same noise.



“Is Mr. Styles in? Would it be possible to see him this afternoon?” the melodic voice asked ever so sweetly.



Rather coarse and firm, Lena interjected, decidedly put out: “No ma’am. Mr. Styles won’t be seeing anyone this afternoon. Fill out the application and leave it with me. If he’s interested, we may call you in for an interview at a later date.” Lena Gilbert thinned her lips, visibly annoyed.



Morgan’s irritation grew alongside his curiosity about the woman attached to such a lovely, enchanting voice. Didn’t Lena know he was in the office with the door wide open and could hear everything? Of course she did. Morgan wheeled back the chair and hoisted up his heaviness, moving briskly to the doorway to intervene. He’d mostly needed to satisfy his curiosity as to the owner of this delightful voice.



“Oh…” said the stranger. “Yes, ma’am. I understand.”



When Morgan Styles appeared in the doorway, his eyes drank in a vision of pure loveliness. There was a sight to behold, for sure. She was quite beautiful. Quite petite, with golden blond hair that fell in a gentle curl as it reached her lower back. Her dainty figure and features made him positive she wasn’t a day over 17. In a flash, Morgan Styles intervened.



“Nonsense, Miss Gilbert…I have time today for an interview,” he’d said pleasantly, his eyes never shifting from the beautiful young thing in the reception area. “Come in, come in!” he said to the new girl and stepped aside in the doorway sweeping his hand inside the room.



The young woman looked up with surprise and smiled sweetly at him. Without looking back at the rather dismissive older woman, she moved elegantly around the receptionist’s desk and walked into his office, looking up at him with the most sparkling blue eyes he’d ever seen.



She gazed up at him appreciatively. “Thank you, sir.”



“You’re quite welcome.” Morgan Styles smiled and felt himself stand even straighter. Without looking back, he ordered Lena Gilbert to hold all his calls and to not disturb him during the interview. Then he abruptly closed the door, knowing Lena Gilbert would be beside herself he’d prevented her unwanted efforts to derail his agenda. He would deal with her soon enough.



For now, he moved back to his desk, making eye contact with the young lady standing near the guest chair. She was still smiling at him. He couldn’t help taking in her shape, given the way her polished, purple, sleeveless dress fit her most appealing curves. The skirt was above the knee, not too short — just perfectly professional. She held a small handbag by its straps dangling in front of her, and black sweater draped over her wrists.



“Sit down, miss–?”



“Thank you, sir. Miss Thomas.” She offered pleasantly.



“Miss Thomas,” savored the lawyer. “You’re interested in the personal assistant’s position, then?” he asked, knowing she already had the job. Knowing she could probably have any damn thing she wanted, if only she would keep looking at him that way. He was downright smitten off a single glance. Childish, of course, but Morgan Styles suddenly felt as spry and studly as any 19 year old boy…and frankly, just as horny.



Miss Thomas nodded and answered decidedly: “Yes, sir, I am. Very much so.” She sat in the chair as Morgan gracefully held the back of it, though it was a solid, steady piece of furniture. Having taken a seat, she draped her left leg over her right knee toward him and adjusted the hem of her dress. He couldn’t get over how mannerly and graceful she was. He was most impressed by her. Like a sweet, teen angel. Oh, how he would love to deflower her…devour her…make her his own.



Forgetting he was still a fat ass, Morgan moved quickly – but with refined dignity – back to his chair and sat, unable to take his eyes from her. After a pause, he inhaled deeply and began the interview. Miss Thomas answered in all the right ways. She was proper and polite, and not the least bit desperate or insincere. She was a refined, mannerly, quite elegant young lady and Morgan loved it, ached for it! Finally, his curiosity had been piqued enough. “How old are you, Miss Thomas?”



Sweetly, delicately, she answered: “I’m thirty three, sir.”



Morgan’s eyes widened and his jaw dropped. “You’re kidding!”



“No, sir,” she smiled, looking into his eyes directly. “I wish I was!”



“Nonsense, little lady. You don’t look a day out of your teens!” He chuckled, still astonished at her overwhelmingly youthful appearance. “I was sure I would have to be filing age permits or have to turn you away. I must say, I am highly impressed with the way you’ve taken care of yourself. And well together, if I may say so.” She looked like a school girl, was built like a woman, and had the maturity and presence of mind to know exactly how to behave. Dear god, she was perfect! Everything he’d dreamed of.



“Thank you, sir. I appreciate that.” Miss Thomas smiled and lowered her lashes ever so, then looked back at him again. Her eyes glistened.



Morgan Styles wiped a palm across his mouth and beard, inhaled, and continued to describe exactly what he was needing in a personal assistant. He explained, with legitimate humility, that his personal life was in disarray, what with the schedule and overwork, being gone and needing the services of a house keeper.

Then he needed someone to organize his files at home, make sure he has his suits dry cleaned and ready on time — he would like his assistant to handle the headhunting portion and find the right candidates to do these things, but would prefer it if she, herself, would be in charge of handling the files at home. And of course, accompanying him to Flagstaff throughout the week, keeping him in check, making sure he didn’t forget anything, which he was often prone to do. Morgan Styles was a mess.



He deliberately omitted his agenda of getting her to help him find a woman, helping him become more appealing to them — at least for now. He would need to get to know her, make sure she was capable of this particular endeavor. So far, she seemed to be highly intelligent while being amazingly youthful. If she wanted the job, it would certainly be hers. After explaining to her the salary, the hours, the benefits, and vacation time package, he leaned back in the chair and clasped his fingers on top of his tortoise sized belly.



“If the job description is suitable to you, I would prefer you to start first thing in the morning.”



Miss Thomas beamed a smile that competed with the brilliant Arizona sunshine and nodded with restrained excitement. “Oh, yes, sir! Thank you so much for the opportunity, sir! What time should I arrive?” she asked with much poise.



“I’m due in court in Flagstaff at nine thirty am sharp. You will need to be here at six so we may arrive early. We can discuss things in more detail on the drive down and back. Is that acceptable for you, Miss Thomas?”



“Absolutely, sir! I will be here!”



Morgan Styles felt his little stubby cock stiffen as he gazed appreciatively at her, watching her smiling back at him. He moved his hand to the telephone intercom and pressed a button, not moving his eyes from his new personal assistant. His new, spectacularly beautifully, perfect personal assistant. Not even the gritty, masculine voice of Lena rasping through the speaker disjointed Morgan Styles from the young woman’s beauty.



“Yes, Mr. Styles?” He could hear her jealousy hissing through.



“Miss Gilbert…” he began with a cheerful tone, “Make up a new employee file for Miss Thomas please and bring it to me at once. I’ve just hired this young lady as my personal assistant.”



“Have you? Yes…well. Of course.” Clearly, Lena did not approve. Something would have to be done about this. The man is simply ridiculous.



Without removing his finger from the intercom button, deliberately so, Morgan Styles smiled and offered the following sentiments to his new assistant: “By the way, Miss Thomas…should my secretary, Miss Gilbert, ever give you any trouble, or behave toward you with any disrespect whatsoever, I want you to tell me right away so I may remedy the situation once and for all. She may find herself out of work.” Morgan intended to put the woman in her place, which was out of his personal business.



“I wouldn’t hesitate, sir.” She smiled at him again, also aware of his finger on the intercom button. Her tone conveyed a gentle triumph over the other woman’s cattiness, one recognized by all woman and practically no men. Morgan Styles may not know, but Lena Gilbert certainly did, that Miss Thomas had sent a strong message she will not be toyed with.



Morgan released the intercom button, leaned back and smiled. Yes, he definitely liked this little lady, no doubt about it.



Lena Gilbert felt her time had just run out. Fuming that he’d gone ahead with this ridiculous notion, she decided that she would approach him personally, away from the office, away from this new…girl, and plead her case one more time, to show him that she was the best candidate for this position.



Then she would get to work finding a way to get this little harlot out of her life…out of Morgan’s life…once and for all.



Whatever it took.



.Three.



No one was at the law office when Miss Thomas arrived at 5:45am. She knew to be even earlier, hoping Mr. Styles would be first to show up. She could tell by the looks, the tone, the relays the day before that the secretary was apt to be a royal bitch and throw a wrench into her plans. It had been a fluke of nature, or so it truly seemed, that she’d been absently browsing the thin weekly newspaper when she’d happened upon the ad placed by Morgan Styles’ law office seeking an assistant. It was too tempting to pass up. This would be the perfect opportunity for her to be able to pursue her plans.



She sat comfortably in her little blue Volvo sipping coffee. Her makeup had been flawless this morning, subtle and youthful with a touch of vamp. She had chosen to wear a delicate, white, button up blouse with short sleeves, tucked into a charcoal colored skirt with a gentle ruching in front and back. She wore no stockings, just slipped on black, patent leather Mary Janes with a slender 4 inch heel. Very sexy and alluring, she knew. Her blond hair was pulled loosely back and clipped low with a barrette. Mr. Styles would definitely approve of her attire this morning.



That’s precisely what she counted on, but to be sure, she unbuttoned the top button to reveal the barest hint of cleavage. Nothing tacky, but enough to keep his eyes darting back with hope.



Her thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of a huge, brown 1970s Thunderbird. Such modest transportation for a man of means. She’d wondered why he wouldn’t drive something more prestigious like a Mercedes. No matter, if she had her way — and she fully intended to — her plans would set her up just fine in life…and her new found position as personal assistant to Morgan Styles was the perfect opportunity to get her there.



Miss Thomas had a ready smile awaiting Morgan as he lugged himself out of the car. Her smile turned to a grin as she watched the vehicle rise once it was free of his weight. Morgan Styles smiled wide, greatly relieved she’d shown up at all. He waved and motioned for her to get out, then stopped and waited as she followed his request. She looked absolutely stunning. “Well, good morning, Miss Thomas!” he offered jovially.



“Good morning, sir!” With a hint of tease, she asked: “Did you sleep well?”



“I did, indeed. Thank you for asking.” Morgan escorted his new assistant to the front doors, fumbled for his keys, and exclaimed, “Ahh, there she is…” finding the right one. He unlocked the door, opened it and stepped to the side, motioning for Miss Thomas to enter ahead of him. She smiled at him, looking directly into his eyes, and walked into the lobby.



Morgan dropped his gaze to her sweet little ass rounding through the slim fitting skirt. He took notice again of her shapely legs and those goddamned sexy heels. Might be a hard ride to Flag this morning, he mused, his little dick twitching.



Closing the front door, Morgan unconsciously placed his palm flat against her back as he edged around her to find the light switch. He mumbled something about its odd placement behind a chest high filing cabinet next to an opposite doorway, flipped it on and waited momentarily for the florescent bulbs to buzz on overhead. “Ah. There we are…light!” he beamed.



“Is there anything I can do for you, sir?” Miss Thomas offered.



“Oh, no…you’re fine. Have a seat. I will only be a minute. Miss Gilbert won’t arrive until eight. We should be long gone by then.” He was quite relieved to not see her this morning and wanted to be gone well before she showed up. “I’ll just grab my files and we can be on our way.”



“Yes, sir.” she replied, as Morgan disappeared into his office.



When he returned, locking his office door, he waved a hand and motioned to Miss Thomas it was time to go. Smiling with a brief nod, she stood and respectfully waited for his direction. Morgan opened the front door and motioned her to exit ahead of him, which she did, waiting on the step as he locked the door. They walked together to the car and as he unlocked and opened the passenger door for her, she quickly excused herself momentarily to collect her coffee and purse, and lock up her car. He waited patiently, studying her body in exquisite detail. They exchanged smiles again as she lowered herself into his vehicle. She is just something else! What a dream! he mused, looking forward to their long drive through the desert.



“Ready, set, little lady?” He asked pleasantly.



“Very ready, sir.”



“I warn you,” he said, as he pulled onto the main highway out of town, “this drive can get very tedious. I will do my best not to bore you to tears the entire way.”



“Oh, Mr. Styles, I don’t think I’ll be bored at all. It’s a lovely drive, actually.”



Morgan agreed. “It is the first time or two, but eventually the novelty will wear off. We can perhaps get better acquainted along the way.”



“I look forward to it, Mr. Styles,” she replied sweetly.



For the first half hour, Morgan Styles went over general job duties and quizzed her as to whether or not the expectations were agreeable. So far, Miss Thomas seemed quite willing to comply. She would answer his cell phone and take messages. She would review his appointments, make sure he was aware of them and kept them on time. She would sit with him in his office and do various odds and ends as needed. She would soon visit his home and help him organize the massive mountain of files and papers strewn about — something he’d warned her of well in advance, hoping she would not run screaming into the desert.



Once she’d felt comfortable with his expectations, she would begin scouting a housekeeping service suitable to his lifestyle. She’d also decided, quite on her own and made the offer, to sit with him and write up a grocery list — she would shop for him, and she would be glad to make dinner for him at his home when he chose not to eat out.



Morgan couldn’t help but be impressed. She was a dream come true. He assured her that he’d not had a home cooked meal in years, so he would be delighted to taste anything she offered him. He’d been so impressed by her gesture that he suddenly heard himself offer to let her fix up one of the guest rooms however she liked, for any time she didn’t feel like driving home. He assured her complete privacy and run of the home. Miss Thomas smiled and accepted graciously. She seemed so touchingly innocent.



He asked more about her and learned that she lived alone in a small apartment in town, had lived in Arizona most of her adult life, and wasn’t on good terms with her family back east. She’d sidestepped brutal details and Morgan did not pry. He understood family struggles all too well and explained that he’d also left home early on and trekked west to make his life somewhere else. Morgan never mentioned, nor did it come up, that he had been married or was a widower. That life was now a million miles away.



By the time they’d arrived in Flagstaff, he felt he’d known her for years. The rapport had been quite easy and upbeat. While Miss Thomas seemed to easily get his brand of humor and took no offense, she’d also remained quite composed, inherently sweet and dignified, and easily amiable. Morgan was simply bowled over by this new woman appearing out of nowhere. He couldn’t get her out of his mind from the moment he saw her.



In fact, in spite of himself, he couldn’t help wish that she should take some romantic or sexual interest in him. It bothered him to no end that he would ever need to ask her for help finding a woman, or to put himself at her mercy seeking measures to make himself more appealing. He felt she would find him utterly pathetic. He couldn’t help relishing the idea all the same of having her to himself, for she was the walking embodiment of exactly the kind of woman he dreamed about and would kill to call his own.



Later that morning, Miss Thomas sat in the public section in the courtroom and watched the proceedings with distinct interest. Law and criminal justice had fascinated her, but she was most surprised by her reaction to watching the illustrious Morgan Humphrey Styles defend his client. She had few details of the case, but sat enthralled by Morgan Styles presenting quite a rational and sound defense; so much so that when he’d finished, she was completely convinced the client acted with reasonable grounds of self defense and should be set free. Her chest swelled with pride and admiration.



To her further surprise, she found his courtroom manner and ease of legal knowledge beyond impressive. She wondered what his life had been like over the years, how dedicated and diligent he seemed to be, how organized and well rehearsed, that seemed to lend to his being so personally scattered. In spite of her own plans, Miss Thomas genuinely admired the good Mr. Styles, enough so that she decided to make herself indispensable to him, to really help him organize his life much more efficiently.



Due to the state’s failure to file a motion by the deadline, the court was adjourned for another 24 hours to accommodate the prosecution. Morgan collected his documents and files, placed them into his tattered leather briefcase, snapped it shut and slid it off the defense table. He spoke to a man and woman, and his client — a tall, slender Navajo man who seemed both nervous and anxious until Morgan patted his upper arm. The client heaved a sigh and nodded with a more relaxed smile. A deputy escorted the client out of the courtroom. People began filing out the doors. Morgan turned around and caught Miss Thomas’s eye, smiling pleasantly. She returned the same and stood up.



She trailed to the right of him in silence as Morgan and two others left the building, stopping momentarily on the front steps saying goodbyes. The younger man, probably another up and coming attorney, proudly shook Morgan’s hand and seemed eager to get in his good graces. Morgan accepted and wished the young man well.



When they’d gone, he turned to Miss Thomas, put his hand flat against her mid back and invited her to lunch. She graciously declined, saying that she wasn’t very hungry. Morgan asked if she’d prefer to wait until they returned to Karas Cove to pick up lunch and he could show her his lovely but disorganized abode — she could see what she’s in for.



Miss Thomas acknowledged that sounded perfect and she could wait to eat a bit later. Morgan obliged, and once again the brown T-bird was on the highway for the long drive back to Karas Cove.



Just as they’d gotten out of Flagstaff and the piney forest opened into pastel desert, Morgan asked what she thought about the court session that morning. Miss Thomas smiled with genuine enthusiasm and told him she found it incredibly fascinating, along with her opinion of his client’s innocence. Morgan smiled with great pride and thanked her for the vote of confidence. It’d been a long time since a lady had found him interesting.



“I’m very sincere, sir. I thought you were quite amazing. I hope to never need you, but if I do, I would feel very safe with you on my side.” Her sentiment was most sincere, which he appreciated even more.



“You know, you are not required to call me ‘sir’ all the time. I don’t mind if we’re on a first name basis, after all. You will soon become most familiar with my disorganized intimate life, so feel absolutely free to address me much more casually, at least privately.” he’d told her.



“Yes, sir…” she began, smiling at him sweetly. “I just have too much respect and admiration for you, I feel you deserve to be addressed properly. I don’t mind at all, Mr. Styles.”



Morgan looked at her, again feeling great pride and appreciation. “Well, thank you, Miss Thomas. I accept your position, however when you feel more comfortable with me, you call me Morgan…deal?”



“Yes, sir…but honestly, I feel incredibly relaxed and comfortable with you already. I just don’t want you to feel I’m ever being disrespectful.”



“Not at all, not at all. I have seen enough since you walked into my office to know that you are a very respectful, polite, and courteous young lady. I am very glad that I’ll be having you as my personal assistant.”



Then, with a sudden curious doubt, Morgan added: “That is, if you truly think you will keep the position.” His statement ended as a question.



Miss Thomas continued looking at him with genuine admiration. “Sir, I’d love to be with you as long as you’ll have me. I appreciate so much that you gave me this position and I promise I will do whatever it takes to be exactly the kind of assistant you need me to be.”



After a short pause, making sure she didn’t blab too much, Miss Thomas continued: “I’m very eager to please you, sir.” She punctuated her statement with a smile and bright, wide eyes.



Morgan shifted slightly in the driver seat; a smile crossed his lips and his brow raised slightly at the other thoughts that dashed through his mind…his dirty, perverted mind. Oh, how he wished that’s what she meant, but he could tell that she was much too proper and innocent to have meant that. Especially that. No, she wanted to make him proud of her, to do good work for him. And he appreciated that a great deal. He would keep his secret desires a secret. To know he wanted her as he did would surely disgust her enough to send her running.



Despite his conscious determination to keep his personal desire on the secret side, Morgan compulsively reached his hand across the seat and casually placed it on Miss Thomas’s thigh, just above her knee. With a gentle little squeeze, he chuckled. “You’re quite the eager beaver, my dear.” He glanced at her. She was still looking at him with a smile in her eyes. “I wish all my employees were as eager as you!”



Miss Thomas didn’t flinch and she didn’t recoil when his hand found her thigh. Instead, she sat just as poised as she had been and replied sincerely, “Well, Mr. Styles, I can’t speak for the others but I can assure you, I am quite eager to please you in any way I can.”



Morgan looked at her again, wishing he could take his eyes off the road much longer than a few seconds. “I believe you, Miss Thomas.” He’d also noticed that she didn’t flinch or recoil. He then wondered when the appropriate time would be to move his hand. He suddenly found himself unsure of decorum now that he’d done it, touched her, though it wasn’t too intimate — still lower than her skirt hem, for sure, but the awareness of her bare flesh against his palm suddenly had him more than a little self conscious.



If he moved it too quickly, it would appear juvenile and clumsy. If he left it too long, it would be highly inappropriate and she could take offense. Maybe to accentuate a statement? Yes, he should say something clever, give her another little squeeze and casually remove his hand.



“You know, Miss Thomas, I apologize to high heaven but I still do not know your first name.” No, that’s not quite the right statement. Morgan hadn’t removed his hand. “I was so excited to have hired you that I didn’t take the time to even review your file. Bad form. I apologize.”



“No sir, not at all. My name is Nichole.”



“Nichole…Nichole Thomas…that’s a lovely name.” His awkwardness was definitely rising. Something needed to be said that would allow him a graceful and discreet release. He wondered if he’d offended her. Perhaps she was uncomfortable and too nervous to just slap the hell out of him, fearing she may lose her newly gotten job? Of course he’d never fire her over that — it was his careless compulsion that engaged her discomfort. Ahh, that would be a good topic to work with.



“Still not comfortable with me to call me Morgan?” he baited.



“Not at all, sir. As I said, I feel completely at ease with you. I feel like I’ve known you my entire life, actually.”



Morgan smiled. Perfect.



“Ahh, then may I ask you a rather personal question? And if it’s inappropriate, or should you take offense, please don’t hesitate to speak up. Offending you is certainly not my goal.”

“Of course…ask me anything you like. I won’t be offended.”



Steadily, not yet releasing her silky thigh, Morgan made sure his hand remained still. “I can’t help but notice that you’ve not slapped my hand away the last several minutes. If it is because you’re uncomfortable and perhaps afraid to say anything, don’t be. I would greatly prefer that you are comfortable enough to point out these things should I ever cross any of your personal boundaries.” Bumbling, but the point is made.



Nichole shifted her right leg and brought her knees together, her inner thigh suddenly and gently brushing against the top of Morgan’s fingers.



“Actually, Mr. Styles, I’m not the least bit uncomfortable about that, nor am I offended or afraid to say anything. I don’t mind that you touch me at all, really. In fact, sir…you can touch me any time you like.”



Morgan looked over at her, decidedly curious and taken aback, and for a moment, wasn’t sure what to say. He was well aware that she’d brought her legs together almost keeping his hand in place. Before he could conclude that had been her intention, she’d casually eased her right leg back to its original position, bent at the knee and solid on her right foot. He glanced at her legs, her smooth, tan, shapely legs and took a breath. Without a doubt, the very idea she didn’t mind his hand there filled his cock with desire in a hurry.



“Is that so?” He’d exclaimed, mostly in disbelief. “Don’t you find it inappropriate of me?”



“No, sir, Mr. Styles. I don’t.” Nichole Thomas shifted slightly and to Morgan’s utmost shock, her right leg edged farther to the right. Had she actually spread her legs to him?



Nichole looked directly at him with a ready smile: “I like the way it feels. Though, at the risk of being inappropriate myself, I’d have preferred if you put your hand a little higher up than you did.”



Morgan smiled in curious surprise. “You shouldn’t toy with an old man like me, Miss Thomas…that’s not nice, you know.” For what else could he say? He was completely taken off guard by her sudden boldness. He certainly didn’t see that coming. While wrestling with his confusion, he felt the warmth of her hand gently cover his. Smooth, delicate hand and twining slender fingers linked into his own short, meaty digits. Somewhere he felt she should be repulsed. She had to be toying with him. He’d hate to have to defend himself in a sexual harassment suit.



“I’m not toying with you, sir,” she answered sweetly, and then, to his surprise, braced the seat with a hand and scooted herself even closer to him, taking his hand in hers and moving it slowly upwards along her bare thigh, beneath her skirt until the edge of his palm met the fabric of her panties.



“This is more what I had in mind, sir.” Nichole did spread her legs wider now, the movement itself causing her skirt to slide high on her thighs. “In fact, Mr. Styles…you can take full liberties with my body any time you desire…if that would please you.”



No, Morgan Styles was clearly hallucinating. No possible way was this happening, and if it was — and it was — it had to be a plot, a joke…she couldn’t be sincere. He knew what he was — a fat, slobby porker…an old coot, a perverted old fuck. No way would this beautiful, shapely, sexy young woman thirty years younger be at all sincerely interested in him touching her anywhere. And the very next day?



No, something wasn’t right. Not right at all. He was sure of it.



But Morgan Styles never moved his hand. Suddenly, he had decided that if she would toy with him so callously, he would at least indulge himself as far as she let him without causing any real drama. Right now, it would be her word against his. And surely no witnesses. Perhaps he could enjoy a little feel of the cagey Miss Thomas. Yes…he most certainly would.



Changing tactics and feeling more confident that he had correctly assessed the situation, Morgan grinned with pure lust and answered her offer with his only warning. “Careful, Nichole. I could do terribly dirty things to that sweet little body. Don’t tempt me.”



Still looking at him directly, now with a naughty smile on her red lips, her fingers still locked in his, Nichole turned in the seat to face him more directly and as she did so, placed his full palm flat onto her pussy. “I think I would really enjoy that, sir.”



White panties, even…silky panties. Perfect little V panel brushing against his hand. Morgan steadied the wheel, gauged traffic — nobody on the road in sight — he exhaled a moan and took the initiative to begin rubbing her pussy through the fabric. She purred and leaned back to indulge it. Her eyes were closed, a smile of what appeared to be genuine pleasure on her lips.



“It’s very difficult to drive this way, my dear.” he’d told her.



Miss Thomas opened her eyes and gazed sweetly up at him. With one hand, she slipped the top button out of its loop and moved to the next, and the next, until her blouse had fallen open down to the waistline. Leaning up, Nichole pulled open her blouse and exposed her white, lacy bra and tan, smooth mounds for Mr. Styles enjoyment. She was an easy C cup, proportional for her petite frame. “You can always pull over, sir.”



“Don’t tempt me, dear…I’m quite aroused enough to take you up on it, and frankly, I’m not sure what to make of this sudden predicament.”



Nichole leaned back and drew her knees together up near her chest, at the same time reaching underneath her skirt, looping her thumbs in her panties and sliding them slowly down her perfect legs. With a grin, she slipped them off her feet and tossed them into the floorboard.



Morgan watched as long as he could manage before returning his eye to the road, but then he felt a sharp poke in his upper thigh. When he glanced down, the lovely, incredibly sexual Miss Thomas had spread her legs apart and placed her left shoe heel firmly into his thigh. Her bare, shaved pussy was crimson with arousal. She wasn’t faking anything at all…she was absolutely turned on. The sight of it had Morgan’s little nubby dick hard as steel in a split second, his balls tight.



As she softly caressed the full face of her pussy, she purred up at him with a genuine smile. “Touch me, sir…right here…” she whispered out loud and rubbed a finger along her cherry, swollen clit.



Morgan swallowed dryly but wasted no time obliging her. His fat little hand moved back to her thigh, edging along, feeling her bare flesh and nearly timidly all of a sudden, made contact with her pussy with the top of his fingers. He could feel her clit tumbling between them – a sensation he’d not felt in years, but that he quickly remembered and relished. Morgan Styles pushed his thumb against her clit and began slow, gentle, rubbing circles. She murmured in pure pleasure, her pussy beginning to pulse.



“I’ll have a wreck before it’s over, dear…I’m a second away from pulling this car over. Is that what you want?” Morgan noticed he sounded like…like her father…a thought that eased to him with wicked delight.



With another purring smile, Nichole nodded. “Yes, sir…it is.”



Morgan Styles drove a bit farther until they reached a pasture road. He slowed the car and eased it off the highway, nose in, facing a rusted iron cattle gate. He put the car in park, leaving the AC running. He could already feel sweat from desire moistening his skin. Having stopped, he slid free of the wheel toward the center and turned ever so in the seat to watch his curiously horny assistant begin to masturbate herself using his hand and fingers. He couldn’t help but slide his free hand along her other leg at the calf, stroking it as if it was his throbbing prick.



“Mmm…Miss Thomas…that is very sexy…” Morgan breathed in awe and delight. He could now see her slit inviting and open, glistening with her own arousal. Morgan slid his thumb down from her clit and began to rub the fleshy hole, dabbing it in and out, watching for any sign that she was displeased. She wasn’t the least bit displeased. He may not have been with a woman in years, but he hadn’t forgotten the look, feel, and scent of raw arousal in a woman. Miss Thomas was clearly turned on, no doubt at all.



Once he’d slid is fat thumb inside her pussy and felt her muscles clench around it, he knew that she wouldn’t be saying no any time soon. Still, he was well aware this seemed to delight her, teasing and using him for her pleasure, so Morgan Styles decided then and there to let her lead the way until she flowed with cum. He would try not to get overanxious to push things.



He did, in fact, enjoy this about her. The tight hot cunt hugging his fat little thumb was pure pleasure, or so he thought, until Miss Thomas thrust her pussy into his hand, and pulled two more of his fat, stubby fingers down to her hole. The little minx wanted more? By all means! Morgan Styles retrieved his pussy soaked thumb, turned his palm up and inserted her two chosen fingers, thrusting them deeply inside her, tracing his thumb over her clit. His fingers squeezed together inside her. God, she was perfect.



She met his probing fingers with wider legs, gripping his wrist with both hands. Her head flung back, but he could see the smile of lust across her lips, her eyes closed in pleasure. She seemed to like fucking his fingers.



After several minutes, Nichole eased up, careful not to turn loose of his fingers in her cunt, and reached in front of her, looking into his eyes. She scooted up closer and began to unbutton his shirt. At first, Morgan Styles felt ashamed, not wanting her to see his ugly, flabby gut. He winced, positive that she would take one look and it would destroy this fabulous gift of a mood.



Artfully, without moving his fingers out of her hole, she managed up on both knees beside him and as she unbuttoned his dress shirt, she began to trace her tongue along his chest. Unfortunately, old school attorneys tended to wear old school under shirts and it appeared to be in her way.



Undaunted, Nichole kissed and nibbled along his neck, while slipping her hands underneath the shirt, and over his protruding man tits and fat belly, reaching below it to find the zipper of his slacks. Before she found that, she felt his hard erection pushing the fabric upright, and circling her fingers along the shaft of it, began to stroke him through his pants. Kissing his neck, up to his ear, she bit the lobe and breathed warmth into it, “Mmm, you’re so nice and hard, sir…” she whispered. “I want to touch you, too.”



Morgan was breathing heavier now, heavy arousal overtaking him. He answered simply by raising his hips off the seat to unfasten his pants and struggled a bit trying to push them down his fat thighs. His squat, tiny cock bobbed upward and Nichole immediately moved back, taking it in hand. She looked at it as if it was the most beautiful appendage she’d ever seen, even nearly convincing him she took great delight in the visual.



He knew he was little, perhaps close to 4 inches fully erect, bulbous head and all, but this young woman of his dreams smiled with genuine adoration, then lowered her head, opened her lips and began wetting it down with her tongue. Oh dear god, that’s amazing…he thought, and in a breathy whisper, “that feels amazing…ohh, mmm, yes, yes…so amazing…”



Pulling back ever so, kissing the shaft of his little prick, Nichole purred and answered, “I only want your pleasure, sir.”



Of course, she knew that he was pleased. Morgan smiled, closing his eyes and nodded, “You’re nothing but pleasure, dear…I love it.” He brushed his fingers through her long, soft silken hair. What an angel…outstanding!



In response, Nichole thrust against his fingers, reminding him he’d stopped actively fingering her needful cunt while indulging in her expert sucking and licking. Morgan pushed his fingers deeper inside her and resumed thrusting until she was fucking his fingers, his cock in her mouth in synch. As her head raised, she sucked his dick with firm tugging, darting her tongue around the head, teasing his hole, and then slid her wet mouth down the shaft, taking him into her throat with unsurprising ease.



Her hand stroked the shaft and made loose but highly arousing circles around his cock head. Her other hand had finally found his balls and began teasing them with her fingertips. At one point, as she stroked his prick, she began flicking his balls with her tongue.



Morgan gasped with pleasure at the intensity. Without realizing it, he’d muttered, “Nichole, I’m so close…so close…”



A moan of sheer delight uttered from her throat as she’d slid her mouth down his shaft, a moan he felt through his dick in spades. She sucked him deeper and more passionately, slipping her free hand beneath his balls and making a half successful attempt to find his asshole. Morgan lifted his fat ass off the seat and Nichole was able to slip her fingers down his crack and find his hole. As she fingered it, dipping her tiny digit into his anus, she sucked harder, bobbing wickedly up and down his aching dick, and as she began to move up, she felt Morgan’s body tense, his breath stifle, and a groan leave his throat. The pleasure was intoxicating, he’d never had a woman finger his asshole before and it felt unbelievable. His body broke into chills.



In a flash, he felt the cum hurl out of his balls, up the shaft and explode out of his dick; in the same flash realizing Nichole did not move away. She sucked down onto his pulsing prick and swallowed every drop of his creamy cum. She was thrusting down on his fingers ever harder and it was all he could do to keep from ramming his stubby fingers up her cunt, though he practically was, in spite of himself. He came furiously, her tiny finger pushing into his anus, her warm, wet mouth sliding up the cock head and licking up all of his jism without stopping until he was spent.



She was truly delightfully perfect.



Reluctantly, Nichole eased her finger from his asshole, slid her hand up his nuts to hold them while she finished off his spectacular blow job with an affectionate kiss to the head of his increasingly flaccid dick. Morgan leaned his head back and breathed deeply, forgetting again to thrust his fingers in her pussy. She leaned up and kissed the elder man on his cheek.



In his ear, “I’ve pleased you, sir?”



“Oh sweet god, little lady, I’ve not felt this good since I was younger than you! That felt exquisite. Thank you!” His gratitude was sincere. His stubby fingers still lodged in her pussy. He didn’t have the heart to move his hand anymore. He could keep her cunt attached to his fingertips until he dropped dead, she was so hot, wet, and tight. He pushed and wiggled them inside her. She giggled and wiggled herself in his grasp and kissed him again.



“I think I am going to enjoy our trips to Flagstaff, sir.”



Morgan smiled. Sir. She could call him whatever the fuck she wanted. “That would certainly please an old horny devil like me. You’re a very naughty little lady…I had no idea you would take any interest in me.”



Nichole squeezed her pussy tightly around his fingers, gazing lovingly at him. She dropped her dainty hand down against his chest, cupping his man tit in it. “Well, sir…we all have needs and desires. I did tell you that I was very eager to please you. In any way you desire,” she said, as she traced her fingertip around his nipple; it quickly stiffened.



“I’m old enough to be your father, you know.” Morgan skirted another of his secret desires.



“Mmm…Mr. Styles, yes, know…and I love it,” she purred, and ran her tongue along his fat nipple, sucking it into her mouth.



Morgan chuckled, “Do you, now? Then again, if I was your father, you surely would never have responded to me this way.”



Teasingly, she countered: “What if I did? Would you still?”



Touchy area with a potential for ugly landmines. Morgan relished the incestuous idea, probably due to his secret desires for sweet younger things. Since she was clearly baiting him with the idea, perhaps she was into a little daddy play? What a lustful thought! “Miss Thomas, if you were my little girl, and you responded to me just this way, I admit it would be very difficult for me to refuse you. Genes or not. You are powerfully enticing.”



Instead of recoiling in disgust, the idea seemed to delight her. She seemed unconcerned with the taboo as she suckled his man tit in her mouth.



Morgan looked at her with curious interest, studying her for any sign of a prank but she seemed quite sincere. Still, he was reluctant to share that depth of his fantasy just yet, though he loved the notion. He didn’t fully trust the situation. “It’s quite the naughty fantasy, indeed, Miss Thomas. You would be a hard little girl to refuse, that much I can admit.”



Nichole kissed his cheek. “I loved the way you came for me, sir.”



“I loved the way you…well, the way you did everything you did.”



“Any time, sir…any time,” she teased.



Neither of them seemed to notice the long line of cars speeding by. Morgan caught his breath and smiled, unable and unwilling to remove his fingers from her cunt.



“Would you like me to return the favor, Miss Thomas?”



“Mmm, yes, I would!” Nichole edged away from him and lay back across the seat. Morgan licked his lips and awkwardly attempted to turn in the seat to reach her dripping pussy with his mouth. Unfortunately, the attempt only reminded him that he was too much of a lard ass to pull it off. With shame, Morgan lowered his eyes and uttered an embarrassed chuckle.



“I don’t believe I’m able to get a good position in the car. Perhaps we could wait until we’re at my home where I could please you properly.”



“I understand, sir. But may I ask a favor?” She seemed so earnest.



“Of course, my dear…anything you want.”



“Keep your fingers inside me until we’re back? It feels so nice.”



“I’d be delighted.” Morgan laughed as he applied the brake and had to shift to reverse without the use of his right hand. Nichole giggled with amusement, but seemed to trust the situation readily.



Back on the highway, Morgan drove with his left hand and continued wiggling and thrusting his soaked slick fingers in her pussy. She would writhe and moan, sometimes rubbing her clit and lifting her ass off of the seat to get him deeper. She still had not exposed her full breasts to him, but he could tell easily they would be perfectly smooth orbs with gorgeous nipples that he looked forward to sucking.



Since they had crossed a tremendous comfort barrier, Morgan spoke more openly to her, and she reciprocated without hesitation, while still maintaining her sweetly polite “yes sirs” and “no sirs” and… “sirs.”



He’d asked what prompted her sudden wantonness on the drive back. Nichole had told him that she’d always admired him and wanted to please him. He’d edged closer to his own insecurity and asked the delicate question — did she not find him rather disappointing, unattractive, considering his weight, and then his age?



Not at all, she’d assured him, as she traced her nails lightly along his wrist. She had found him appealing, weight and all, and the urge had overtaken her. She confessed that she’d not been this turned on by a man in years. Perhaps it was a strange to him, but not to her; she truly wanted him.



Whatever it was that inspired it, she assured him it was not a passing fancy. If he wanted her, she would belong only to him, willing to do anything he wanted. However, before Morgan could respond, she added one thing more to the unexpected admission.



“But what I find myself most interested in, sir, is exploring fantasies together, and fetishes. I know you have dirty fetishes as I do, Mr. Styles and I would love for us to share those with each other, to really push away boundaries and do everything with each other…wouldn’t you like that?”

Nope, Morgan didn’t see that coming, either. He wondered if any of his fetishes would offend her. Of course they would. Many were downright illegal because they offend somebody somewhere. He’d still not quite connected the dots that apparently, one of her fetishes included fucking old, fat men – not that he would protest…the girl was a dream.



“What sort of fetishes do you have in mind, Miss Thomas?”



“Make me cum again and I’ll tell you…” she teased, bouncing her ass and pussy playfully on the seat. She looked so at ease laying across the seat.



Morgan shook his head and grinned, and worked her tight little hole until she was writhing and thrusting in the seat. He decided to return the favor and lower his thumb down the firm crevice of her ass until he found her silky shaved anus. As he circled his thumb around it, Nichole spread her legs as wide as they would spread and cupped her tits in both hands. “Mmm, yes…do it, sir…” she pleaded. Her little slit gaped open hungrily. He smiled.



He pushed the entrance of her tight asshole but barely managed the tip. Nichole was arching now, primed and ready, rubbing her clit hard as she moaned and thrust toward him. Gently, Morgan pushed more of his thumb into her awesomely tight asshole and had her bucking for more. The sight of her pleasure began to arouse him again. Thinking out loud, Morgan announced:



“Mmm, what I wouldn’t give to be able to shove my cock right up your tight sweet asshole, little girl.”



And with that, Nichole arched and squealed out loud. He didn’t need to ask, he could feel her body jerk in orgasm, pussy clamping in pulsing spasms around his fingers, cum oozing out of her slit. Though his fat fingers plugged her hole, he realized the gush of liquid trying to flood his fingers meant she would’ve ejaculated, squirted that sweet stuff right out of her hole into his hand…or better still, his mouth. His cock ached at the very idea.



As she fell back into the seat, breathing, Morgan could no longer resist the urge to taste her. He pulled his pussy soaked fingers from her slit, eased his thumb out of her ass and watched glorious cum gush out of her slit. He brought both fingers up and sucked them into his mouth.



Mmm, the taste of her…so raw and sweet. He licked his fingers clean of her cum. Before he could finish, Nichole had returned to her knees beside him and taken his hand from his mouth. Leaning back just so, she inserted them into her pussy again and squeezed around them, slid them out and raised them to her mouth, sucking his fingers the way she’d sucked his fat little prick…with nothing but devoted affection. She eased his fingers from her warm mouth like a child removing her pacifier. She had a childlike aura about her that easily made him forget she was a fully grown woman.



After she’d cleaned his fingers, she leaned up again and kissed his cheek. He’d not noticed, but she had, that they would arrive in town in a fast 10 minutes. She retrieved the pack of wipes, pulled one free and cleaned her hands and fingers. She pulled another and tended to his, as well.



He marveled at the nurturing way she went about tending to him. She then redressed, good as new. In no time, she looked as proper as she had when he’d seen her that morning, minus lipstick. A second later, as if reading his mind, she retrieved a tube of red shade lipstick, pulled down the visor mirror and applied it with the steady hand of an artist.



When she’d finished, she scooted closer and patted his bulging stomach, resting her head on his upper arm. She slid her hand down under his belly to his stubby cock and casually massaged, stroked, and caressed it until Morgan eased the Thunderbird into the driveway.



.Four.



“This is your home? Oh, it’s gorgeous, sir!” Nichole exclaimed.



Morgan smiled with pride; he’d worked his ass off for this place and it was all his. His pride was instantly replaced with the dreaded embarrassment that the mere sight of the clutter may send this girl packing.



“It is lovely, but it’s a mess. I hope you’re up to this part, dear.”



“Of course, sir…I can handle it.” She grinned with a wink.



She waited as Morgan raised off the seat to pull up and fasten his slacks. He didn’t bother to tuck in his shirt. He hoisted himself from the car and walked around it to open the door for her. She took hold of his offered hand and stepped out of the car.



“Thank you, sir.”



“You’re so very welcome, my dear.”



In spite of the clutter, Nichole felt comfortable in the spacious southwestern home and began to wander around having a look. It almost seemed as though she was oblivious to the clutter and papers strewn about. In fact, it almost seemed as though she was oblivious to his age, his wrinkles, and flab, for she gazed adoringly at him as though he was the most beautiful man alive. He struggled between his disbelief and his ego more than once.



Of course, he hadn’t been born yesterday. Though he had suspicions — beautiful young women simply do not adore and need to please dirty, aging fat men; it doesn’t happen in the real world — he couldn’t help but let her indulge herself as long as it lasted. The second she asks for something, the game is up.



Morgan closed the front door, joining her in what was usually the main living room. He walked up behind her, close against her, and took her upper arms in his hands. In response, Nichole reached behind her and found his floppy prick. She squeezed it in her fingers and slowly began to massage it. Morgan reached in front of her and cupped her ample tits in both hands. The scent of her hair had him reeling with desire.



“Ahh, little lady…you’ll be the death of me yet…”



Nichole leaned her head back against his chest. His man tits felt like two pillows over his large gut. She fumbled with the fastener of his pants until he intervened to assist her. This time, Morgan pulled his pants down to his ankles giving her full access to his meaty member. Though he wasn’t very endowed, his dick felt sculpted and hot in her fingers. The feel of it made her smile as she gently tugged and twirled it in both hands.



As she was occupied, Morgan finally took the liberties with her she’d previously agreed he could take and began to unbutton her blouse, eager to feel those gorgeous tits in his bare hands.



Nichole stepped away from him, though, and then turned to face him. Her gaze moved down his lower half to the floor and then back into his eyes. With a sweet, innocent smile, she unbuttoned his dress shirt and pushed it off of his shoulders. He let it fall to the floor. She began to lift the undershirt when he stopped her, feeling self conscious.



She only smiled again and nudged his hands away, lifting the shirt as high as she could, forcing him to pull it over his head. She knelt to the floor and tugged at his ankle. Morgan lifted his foot and she removed his shoe and sock, then repeated the same with the other foot. He stepped out of his pants and stood above her completely naked.



Self conscious. Uncertain. Nervous. And yet, completely liberated.



Nichole ran both hands tenderly up his calves, his thighs, to his wide hips. On her knees, she looked up at him with all the purity of a school girl and then took his cock in both hands, kissing it. Her forehead nudged against the underside of his hanging gut but she continued kissing his dick with devotion, if not worship. She lifted it upright and knelt lower to lick and suckle his testicles; pre cum oozed from the head of his cock. Nichole lapped it onto her tongue and swallowed it. Then she began kissing and licking his bulbous belly, both hands flat against it, squeezing as she kissed all of it.



Standing up, she had been mouth to nipple with Morgan’s droopy bitch tits and sucked one nipple into her mouth, teasing it with her tongue. She opened her mouth wider and took more of his tit, licking and circling the nipple, cupping it with her hands. She moved then to the other, cupping it and lowered the other hand to take hold of his cock with a tug and squeeze.



Just as Morgan leaned down to kiss her lips, Nichole grinned and eased back, dropping her arms to her sides.



“Now…undress me, sir.”



“Yes, ma’am.”



Morgan was filled with uncomfortable lust, hating being stark naked before such a beautiful creature, yet insanely turned on at the care and devotion she had taken in spite of his lack of appeal. He wanted to rip her clothes from her body but restrained himself with the same slow hand she’d used on him. He removed her blouse. He stepped closer, pressing his fat stomach against her, reached behind and unhooked her bra. He gently pulled it from her arms and let it fall to the floor as he stared with deep pleasure at her perfect tits. Morgan knelt before her, knee joints popping, and slid her skirt down her perfect legs. Nichole stepped out of it and kicked it aside.



Taking a breath, Morgan looked up into her eyes. She was smiling at him with gentle tenderness, if not compassion. He tucked his thumbs into the waistband of her panties and slid them down to her ankles. She kicked them off and stood naked before him, save but her sexy heels.



There the both of them stood, face to face, naked and exposed; she with her perfect, tan, youthful figure, luscious legs, beautiful bare pussy and tits, and he with his pale, round fatness, his short, squat dick and his wrinkled 63 year old flesh. Thirty years older, old enough to be her father and yet, this woman who could have any man she wanted, for some reason had wanted him. He couldn’t complain, wouldn’t dare…he would indulge her every wish and desire, but always waiting on a punchline. There had to be one, this doesn’t happen in real life. Miss Thomas should be naked with some hot young stud, and he should be indulging the grim Miss Gilbert.



Nichole smoothed her palms all over his body with the same adoration she’d handled his dick, following her soft caresses with soulful kisses everywhere her hands went. Morgan Styles breathed in at the pleasure, and began to return the favor. Soon, they were touching and caressing each other into a state of abject lust, and Nichole sweetly instructed him to sit back on the sofa. He obliged and Nichole moved closer, straddling his lap and brought her bare, shaven pussy down on top of his throbbing cock. She pulled it upright along her slit and began a sexy thrust, sliding her pussy lips up and down his shaft holding it against herself.



Knowing the answer all the same, she asked teasingly:



“Would you like to fuck me now, sir?”



“Oh, sweet god, yes…” moaned Morgan, his tiny prick pulsing.



Nichole’s pussy was dripping wet, slick and hot, as she used her hands to spread her lips and maneuvered herself directly over the head. Morgan held his dick steady and they both watched as she slowly pushed his fat little cock head just into her wet hole. They both moaned and then grinned. She pushed down a little more and Morgan nearly shot off that second at how tight and snug her amazing cunt felt around his dick.



She lifted up a bit and then pushed down more, sucking more of his thickness inside her. It was pure rapturous torture. When she’d pushed his dick all the way inside her, clit rubbing the hilt, Nichole began a slow, steady, tormenting thrust up and down his fat little cock, nearly making him pass out from the heady pleasure. His fat hands gripped her soft, firm hips and moved with them as she stroked him with her hungry, but ever so patient cunt.



All the while, she gazed directly into his eyes and smiled with such innocence he had to remind himself she initiated all of this on her own.



For a moment, she leaned back, bracing her hands atop his knees, and Morgan leaned up and began to suck on her nipples, pushing both tits close together so he could slide his lips and tongue between them. She rode his dick a little faster, moaning and purring at his touch.



Since Morgan had cum earlier, he was fortunate to have a more prolonged sexual interlude and hoped to better pleasure her, tend to her. He slipped a hand behind her, cupping her ass cheek in his palm and then moved it down between her legs from behind, feeling the gushing wetness of her hole filled up with his cock.



Nichole leaned forward again, arching her back and her ass outward a bit and Morgan quickly caught on that she wanted him to finger her asshole again. She whispered to him to lay back on the sofa and he held her down on his cock as he obliged, resting his head on a throw pillow. She then instructed him to spread his legs apart, and as she arched her ass to accommodate him, she reached behind her, between his legs, and eagerly made contact with his asshole. He moaned and raised up as best he could, spreading his legs, as they both fingered each others’ assholes while she slowly rode his fat little cock.



Morgan began to thrust a bit faster, edging closer.



“Does it feel good, sir?” she teased.



“God, yes, baby…”



“Do you like fucking me, sir?”



“I love fucking you…your pussy is so tight and sweet…oh, god...”



“Can I share a secret with you, sir?”



More teasing. She could’ve probably told him she’s really a man and right that second he wouldn’t have cared; her pussy felt exquisite, her finger in his asshole felt exquisite, and her tight ass gripping his middle finger felt exquisite. There wasn’t much she could say that he wouldn’t truly find delicious.



“Yes, baby…tell me anything…just don’t stop fucking my cock.”



“I won’t sir…I love fucking your cock…” she emphasized it with a quicker, harder thrust. His hand squeezed her fleshy thigh. Nichole lowered down on top of him, her nipples grazing his chest, her mouth against his ear and she shared with him her secret at just the right moment.



Morgan heard it, it began to register, and the idea of it drove him mad with lust. He pushed his finger deep into her asshole, causing her to squeal, at the same time he wrapped his arm around her waist and thrust himself up, harder and deeper into her. Against his judgment, he could not stop…the idea overtook him and he fucked the young woman furiously, like a crazed madman, and she fucked his prick right back, digging her nails into his shoulders, both moaning and grunting with pleasure until they slammed hard into a violent orgasmic rush.



When it subsided, she fell onto him to catch her breath. Morgan Styles shook his head at the whole experience, trying to make sense of it all, unsure, but unable to unwrap his arms from around her naked flesh. His cock still buried inside her, and she, nestling against him, wiggling her little pussy the way she would, was a sensation Morgan did not want to ever end.



But her secret…that was the one thing he hadn’t counted on and he wasn’t sure how knowing it would change everything. So far, Miss Thomas did not seem the least bit fazed — probably because it was her secret all along — but she lay atop him, still draining his cum from her satiated hole onto his mount, both of them drenched in sweat. She seemed quite pleased with herself, and with him. In spite of himself — and her secret — he genuinely did not want her to move. He felt warm peace having her close against him this way. Who knows how much longer it would last.



Demurely, her melodic voice kindly disrupted his contemplation.



“Tell me what you’re thinking about, sir…”



He should’ve anticipated that, such a typically female question. This time, he understood exactly why she was inspired to ask, even though he was sure she gathered by the way he’d lost control to the point he had to fuck her as hard as he did, that he was okay with it on some level, at least. Truth be told, the idea of it electrified him. That’s why he lost control in pure lustful indulgence. He couldn’t help himself. His cock had never been so hard.



“I’m thinking you’re one naughty little lady.”



Squeezing his soft dick from the inside, she giggled playfully and replied, “You can spank me if you like, sir…any time.”



“How long have you had this little secret of yours, might I ask?”



Morgan remained calm, not entirely sure he was prepared for an answer, but he knew damn well he needed one, and in a hurry.



Nichole raised up and looked into his eyes, bracing herself with both hands on his chest since his body covered most of the sofa.



“Are you angry?”



Was he? She’d sprang it on him under false pretenses…during a contrived sexual encounter…but then, he could see why she chose the route she did. Truthfully, no…he wasn’t mad, at least about that part, and told her so. But that secret, that was one he hadn’t anticipated. Worse, she was well aware of his reaction to it. He couldn’t deny it.



“I’m not sure how I feel, my dear. It wasn’t anything I’d been prepared for. And my own reaction…well, that may be a delicate matter.”



“I understand. I apologize for misleading you. If you’d prefer that I go away, I will.”



Nichole began to raise up, but Morgan Styles wrapped his arms around her and shook his head.



“No…not at all, I don’t want you to go anywhere. We’ll obviously have to talk shortly. No way around it, now.”



“Sir, do I still have my job as your assistant?”



A fair and legitimate question under the circumstances. She knew that his answer would be his real truth, if nothing else…and she would respond accordingly.



After a bit of a pause, Morgan felt his cock stiffen and twitch with a spasm at the thought; how wet, warm, and luscious she felt. The secret, now their secret, the very idea of it was a kinky turn on…but the reality of it — that may be another matter entirely. Clearly, his prick relished the entire idea of it and had no problem at all. Morgan Styles had revealed himself in that.



“I won’t fire you, Nichole. But I will understand if you should choose to quit. With severance pay, of course.” It was still a generous offer.



“Do you want me to quit?” She asked, suddenly uncertain.



Morgan answered honestly:



“No, no, dear. I hope you will stay indefinitely. You’ve not even gotten started with the real job.” He popped her playfully on an ass cheek.



“But, I’m not sure how to handle this situation.”



Feeling at ease, Nichole heaved a sigh, eased up and kissed her kind and understanding, aging boss on the lips. “Thank you, sir.”



“Whatever will we do for an encore, Miss Thomas? This one seems to have outdone everything I would’ve ever come up with.”



Nichole smiled and kissed him again. This time, Morgan kissed her back tenderly and lovingly. It wasn’t half bad, he told himself. It may take getting used to, though he’d been used to it for years.



He had to admit, he absolutely loved fucking the girl, and the way she’d handled herself all along was most impressive. Her little cunt felt amazing, her sweet mouth around his dick felt amazing, and she’s definitely a beautiful young woman. He knew he would love to fuck her again and again, as often as she was of a mind for. The more he considered it, the more aroused he got…kissing her with more passion, finally taking another chance and slipping his tongue into her mouth.



With eager acceptance, Nichole gently swirled her tongue around his and slowly began to writhe herself against him, feeling his hardness grow.



“I don’t know, sir…but I look forward to it…” she confessed.



Morgan’s fat, stubby prick thickened up as she wiggled herself around him. He loved the way she squeezed her cunt around his dick…it drove him crazy with desire. In fact, he mused, it made him feel…owned.



Nichole nestled against him, beginning a slow, grinding thrust, fully intending to get his cock ready for another round. She seemed to take genuine delight in having his prick stuffed inside as often as possible.



“All I know is that I want to be yours, for you to do with me however you please. I know you want me, too, sir…I know I’ve pleased you.”

Gradually, Morgan felt himself begin to fuck her ever so slowly, his cock throbbing to pound her tight little hole with fury. His hands moved back to her tits and squeezed.



“You do want me, don’t you?



“Of course I do. I would be a fool if I didn’t. A crazy old fool. Wanting you is one thing. Continuing to have you is quite another.”



Gently, but with resolve, she raised up on her knees, sliding off of his dick, using her pussy to ease it down. She stood up, turned around and moved onto her hands and knees, her shapely little ass hovering over his stomach. She lowered down and began to rub her wet pussy across his fatness, stroking his shaft with her fingers.



When she’d heard him moan and reach for her asshole again, she eased forward, away from him — still on hands and knees — to the end of the sofa. She glanced teasingly over her shoulder at him with a naughty smile, and shook her little ass at him.



“I want you to fuck my asshole, sir…”



Morgan moved up on command, a slave to this little lady’s desires, he knew. Up on his knees behind her, gripping his dick in hand to ease it into her tight little anus, he’d reminded her again:



“You don’t need to call me sir, you know…I think we’re long passed that now, don’t you?”



Nichole wiggled closer, wanting to feel it inside her ass, her pussy aching for it. He had a valid point. She would relent and stop calling him sir.



“I want you to fuck my asshole hard…daddy…”



.Five.



The word raced through his head…daddy…somewhere, underneath the kink, the lust, the desire and heat, Morgan Styles still hadn’t fully accepted the truth of it. For the most part, he still wanted to indulge himself in her sweet cunt as long as he could, knowing that once the fire settled, she would probably vanish as mysteriously as she appeared.



For now, Morgan Styles relished the firm snugness of her anus squeezing around him; Nichole’s wiggling ass cheeks grinding closer to take him fully up her ass made his balls tight. He’d never, ever met a woman who actually enjoyed being fucked that way, and now…suddenly all in one afternoon, he had this beautiful woman of his most cherished dreams appear like a vision of splendor, simply adoring everything about him, wrinkles, flab and all…and then begging him to fuck her little ass as hard as he liked.



And actually letting him…



Nichole leaned her chest onto the sofa, ass still arched up, reached behind and took hold of her cheeks in each hand, spreading them apart. Morgan took one look at her pink little hole, and her beautiful pussy slit opened, creaming with cum, and spewed his load right up her asshole.



When she’d felt him spurt the warm liquid, she shoved two fingers into her pussy and fucked herself into another orgasm in seconds.



Morgan leaned over her back and kissed her shoulder with affection, easing his floppy appendage out of her anus.



Creaking knee joints ached as he pushed his tub of fat off of the sofa and stood beside her, watching as she slowly slid her legs flat and lay comfortably on her stomach, a smile of sheer satiation across her lips.



Morgan groaned as the reality he wasn’t 17 shot angrily through his old bones and he shook his head, disgusted all over again that he probably would never really be able to keep up with a woman like Nichole. When her fantasy wore off, she would move on to more sculpted, youthful pastures. He softly padded around the coffee table to leave.



“Where are you off to?” she asked, languidly.



“Men’s room, my dear. To clean up.”



Nichole leaned up on her forearms, gleam in her eye. What youth she still had, precious youth and energy. “You know what I’ve always wanted?” she asked, with hopeful innocence.



“What have you always wanted, love?”



“I’ve always wanted to know what it would be like to take a bath with my father. Can we?” Her eyes sparkled. “We can have that little talk while we wash each other. Wouldn’t that feel gorgeous?”



“My dear, I don’t know if I can cum anymore for you tonight.” Morgan smiled, but was most sincere, though the idea of bathing her was delicious, indeed. The idea of her bathing him, intoxicating.



“You don’t have to cum, sir. We can bathe and talk…together.”



She stood up in front of him and took his pudgy hand in hers. Smiling up at him with all the adoration of a daughter to her father, Morgan knew he’d give her anything she damn well wanted.



He smiled and kissed her forehead.



Nichole helped draw the bath and waited for him to ease into the tub. The water rose nearly to the rim. Fluidly, she stepped in, between his legs, realizing there just wasn’t much room. Still, she wedged into a small space and sat down, facing him. She seemed perfectly at ease with it all.



Morgan simply watched her with appreciation, and closed his eyes as she wet a cloth and began to drain water over his body. It felt so nice, relaxing. He simply indulged as she lathered the cloth with soap and began to wash every inch of him in soothing, loving manner.



When he was rinsed and refreshed, she smiled and handed him the cloth. He spent some time dripping water over her arms and breasts, taking it all in. Finally, Morgan lathered his hands and began to slowly soap her body.



She stood up so he could wash her pussy and ass, and her legs.



Morgan did so with pure pleasure, taking his time to feel her lathered silken flesh against his hands. He especially enjoyed rubbing her soapy little pussy, making sure to fondle her clit and dip his fingertips in her hole.



After he’d washed and rinsed her, Morgan leaned up and began to softly kiss the lips of her youthful little snatch, as if he was kissing his bride on their wedding day. When he stopped, Nichole lowered down and lay back, somewhat awkwardly against his protruding gut. He reached around and clasped his fingers in front of her and for a time, they lay together in calm silence. He truly did not want this moment to end, or ruin it for that matter, but it was time to put things openly on the table.



She’d whispered her secret in his ear and the thought of it, the idea of it, had overtaken him. It had been one of his most cherished sexual fantasies. She’d whispered to him that she wanted him to fuck her the way he would if she was really his young daughter, to imagine her as if she was barely into her teens, needing her daddy. The notion had turned him on beyond measure. He’d surrendered to his baser desires and went with it…revealing his own dark perversions effortlessly at her command.



“I suppose you’re still wondering if it was true or just fantasy?” she’d asked, as if reading his mind.



Morgan nodded, taking for granted she’d not seen him.



“I’ve had this fantasy, this need, since I was a child. I was told my father abandoned us shortly before I was born. I grew up dreaming that one day he would come back, take me with him. I was fourteen when I finally saw him for the first time.”



Nichole gently caressed his prick as she spoke. Morgan closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, surrendering again to her exquisite touch.



“That same afternoon, I happened to look up at him sitting in the chair and saw his penis peeking out through the cuff of his loose swim shorts. I’d known by then what arousal was, and seeing that he was aroused while watching me filled me with overwhelming desire,” she told him, as she traced her thumb over the head of his cock.



“We came so close to experiencing each other that day, but then he left and I never saw him again — well, not until I was twenty six…and then he didn’t even recognize me.”



Morgan felt his heart squeeze. He held her closer, protectively.



“Ever since that afternoon, the only thing driving me through the horrible life I’d been subjected to by my mother and her siblings, had been my cherished wish to find him again, to bring him pleasure, to experience him, to feel him fucking me…and that I could live with him and be his lover.”



“Oh, my dear girl…how awful. I am so terribly sorry. I know it is difficult to grow up without a parent. I can see how that longing was channeled into this naughty fantasy.” He was clumsy with the psychoanalysis and soon realized just how so when she continued her story.



“You don’t understand. I was born in September of seventy eight. My mother was only fifteen years old. She raised me with the help of her older sister and their parents, my grandparents, until I was fourteen. She was in her late twenties by then.”



“That’s when I’d seen my father for the first time — that I remembered, anyway. We’d gone to the lake, had so much fun. My father sat with me in the living room while everyone had gone to get dinner at some takeout place. I thought he was the most beautiful man I’d ever seen and was so happy he’d come back…I knew he would take me away with him forever.”



Morgan’s brow furrowed a bit, his cock twitching in her fingers.



“He sat in a big brown easy chair, still in his swim trunks, with his legs apart. I sat on the floor folding up my beach towel. I could feel him watching me. Then he told me he thought I was quite beautiful. I looked up at him then, elated, and that’s when I’d seen the head of his penis peeking through the shorts. I’d never seen a man’s penis before that moment, and I was mesmerized. I wanted to see more of it. I couldn’t help myself.”



Morgan slowly began to shake his head, feeling something begin to darken. Something wasn’t right…this story was going to get worse.



“I got up and went to him. I climbed into his lap. He looked at me and seemed shocked. His eyes narrowed and he asked what I was doing.”



“Oh…no…” Morgan muttered aloud, closing his eyes tight.



“I told him how much I loved him and how I was so happy that he’d finally come back for me. I guess I got a little carried away but I reached down and slipped my fingers inside the cuff of his shorts. He didn’t seem to mind…and then he smiled and asked me…”



Morgan Styles drew a breath and held it. His mind raced. His body flushed warm. His cock stiffened against her tender caress.



“…so, I slid off him onto the floor, onto my knees and he pushed down his shorts. I’d just opened my mouth when the living room door opened and suddenly my mother was there, and her sister, and my uncle.”



Morgan’s heart pounded…his reality shattering all around him.



“All hell broke loose. My aunt jerked me up and rushed me out of the room, slapping my face a few times. I heard fighting and yelling, things breaking. Then suddenly…he was gone. I didn’t see him again for years.”



When she had gone silent long enough, still easily reclining against him, casually tracing her fingers along his upper thigh, Morgan could only mutter: “That can’t be…” even though he knew all too well…it could.



Swirling pieces dropped hard into place as the recall began to surface more readily. Nichole pulled up and turned around in the water, facing him. She eased her hand between his thighs and took hold of his soft, limp cock.



“You are my father, sir…my mother was Madeline Wilkes. My aunt, I believe you knew, as well…Marla…your late wife.”



Nichole spoke gently and without confrontation in her tone.



“And I’ve always loved and admired you, always needed you, sir.”



Morgan Styles looked at her with utter confusion in his eyes. He remembered the incident quite well, but he had no idea…none at all…that the little girl was his own child.



“How can that be? I’ve never had children! This makes no sense.”



Pieces of his life swirled and dropped into place. Morgan gasped.



“My mother had grown terribly hateful toward me after that day and we began to fight all the time. A few times, she’d told me that she hated me and wished I was never born. It hurt for a long time, and without my father, without you to protect me, she’d sent me away to a boarding school.”



Nichole spoke softly, but still gently. Gauging his response.



“In a letter, one of two I’d ever received from her while away, my mother told me that my aunt Marla said we would all be better off if I was put up for adoption and she had agreed. She said she couldn’t look at me every day knowing that I would do such a thing…that something was wrong with me, that I was an evil girl. They all turned their backs on me.”



“Next thing I knew, there were court hearings and foster homes and finally I was placed with a really nice family for awhile. They changed my name from Nicholette Wilkes to Nichole Thomas. I cried every night, hoping you would come get me, but you never did.”



“Eventually, things became easier and as I neared legal age, I decided I would try to find you. The family had nothing more to do with me. I was twenty six when I’d seen a news story on television and recognized you immediately. That case where you’d defended a father for abducting his daughters…at the end of it, the reporter commented that you had married Marla Wilkes. I couldn’t believe it! I was outraged. I didn’t understand how…”



Nichole stopped and looked at Morgan, whose eyes were still closed. A grimace of pain seared his forehead. Quietly, Morgan pieced together the rest of the story…one that he’d forgotten all about and one that had fueled his dark perversions ever since.



“I’d met Marla in the early seventies. We’d become close and at the time, I felt that I’d loved her. Our relationship had been strong enough and soon I would be introduced to her family, and she to mine. I didn’t look like this back then. I was in much better shape and for a good many years seemed to catch the attention of many ladies…and…many young girls.”



“After Marla and I had wed, her family threw a birthday party for her younger sister. She turned fourteen that year. Everyone had been in a festive mood — Marla’s parents held the lavish event at the Wilkes Estate. The adults used the festivities to network, as had I — many influential people there. Hordes of children all over the place. I suppose the sun and alcohol had gotten too much and I wandered down to the pier, away from the crowd for a bit to clear my head.”



“Soon, I heard lilting laughter darting behind me and when I turned, little Maddy was trying to sneak up on me. She came to sit beside me. She’d always taken a liking to me in a gentle fashion, and told me that her grandfather had bought a new speedboat. She asked if I wanted to see it. In fact, I truly did. I’d always fancied having one of my own. We stood, she took my hand and we ran along to the boathouse. She had matured quickly, though, too much for her own good. In the privacy of the boathouse, she came to me with a proposition to take her virginity.”



“At first, I laughed. It had been absurd, and dangerous…and improper, but as she stood there before me, looking up at me with those blue eyes, I am afraid that I surrendered to my carnal lusts. I deflowered her easily and it was over rather quickly. The reality of my behavior hit full fury and I fled in a panic. She hadn’t told anyone apparently, so eventually, I felt I would be safe and it could pass into history.”



“Several months later, Marla had rushed in the door of our apartment, simply hysterical, and in a state, announced that Maddy was pregnant.. I was fully prepared for the consequences of my actions but as it turned out, young Maddy never pointed to me, never told anyone it had happened. I found myself relieved, of course, greatly relieved, for what I’d done was thoroughly illegal, yet at the same time, I recognized that she did not betray me, she seemed quite adamant of protecting our encounter.”



“I would never know for certain that her child was my offspring, and in time, my doubts about young Maddy surfaced stronger, as Marla would recount many tales of her sister’s lustful escapades. Just the week I’d learned she’d become pregnant, Marla was having a fit about a high school boy sneaking in and out of Maddy’s bedroom. Everyone had seemed satisfied the young boy had been her lover, her child’s father. I thought no more about it.”



“In any case, before she would ever deliver, I had received an offer in Arizona at a law firm. Marla and I shortly moved away. That had been the last of it. Years passed and then in ninety two, we were invited to her brother’s cabin on the lake. We made the trip and for the full of that weekend, we had a lovely time. That was the weekend in question, my dear.”



“I’m afraid that my perversions had crept up on me again once I’d seen you, though I assure you, the exposure of my penis to you had been quite unintentional, as was my sudden, unexpected erection. I could not help myself . Watching you sitting on the floor, leaning over the towel, trying to get it folded perfectly smooth. It occurred to me how beautiful Maddy’s little girl had grown up to be. I’d never seen you before that weekend.”



“I’d not even considered, even remotely, the possibility that you were my own child. The thought never occurred to me. My arousal had erupted in spite of my feeble attempt at restraint. I was quite surprised when you suddenly climbed into my lap, throwing your arms around me.”



“And yes, I do remember the way you positioned yourself quite deliberately over me that way. Yet, when you’d exclaimed how happy you were I’d returned, calling me daddy, your eyes sparkling so exquisitely, I’m afraid I took all leave of my senses and indulged my darkness once again.”



“My head was in such a state, and when you touched me the way you had, well…I did not resist you. I didn’t want to resist. I knew you’d thought I was your father and the idea took me over. I fell into this indulgence willingly…asking you…asking you to do that to me.”



“It caused an enormous row, of course, and in the end, Marla had made sure to strangle the life out of me, well deserved, nevertheless. I’d only heard small portions of things over the years, but I had no idea that Maddy had cast you aside so cruelly. It wasn’t your fault, my dear…it was mine, and shameful. Moreso, as I had made many attempts since to relive it.”



“Needless to say, I was never permitted to participate any further in their family gatherings. What I’d done destroyed my relationship with Marla, of course, and while she rightfully refused to tend to my needs as a husband, I’m afraid that she gave me a rich ultimatum that included doing anything she demanded, or she would expose my actions. She’d had me under her blackmailing thumb for the next two decades. I could not afford by that time to have any of it surface and so I obliged my angry, vengeful wife, only finding some semblance of freedom after her passing.”



Nichole’s eyes blazed at the mention of the woman.



“I hated aunt Marla for what she did. It was because of her that you went away, and it was because of her that my own mother discarded me. When I knew she was dead, I felt nothing but relief.”



Morgan tilted his head curiously.



“How did you know she had passed away?”



“Seven years ago in two more months. When I’d seen you on the news that day, I took it upon myself to keep up with you. I wanted to see you again. I’d been at the Life For A Life rally. I approached you and said hello. You smiled and shook my hand, but you didn’t recognize me. You’re the reason I moved to the Cove. I wanted to meet you again…to know you, but I’d never managed to find an opportunity until I’d seen your ad.”



“I am astonished. My dear, I had no idea at all! I don’t know what to say…I am so very sorry for all of this anguish you’ve gone through…”



Morgan glanced down and caught sight of Nichole’s hardened nipples when the full reality of the afternoon came over him in a tidal wave.



“Oh…my dear god…” he’d said in a breath. “What have we done?”



Nichole’s eyes began to water at the implication.



“Do you regret this now?” she asked him, hurt welling to tears.

Morgan shook his head in despair and discomfort. The damage had been done. He’d expected he had simply indulged fetish and fantasy. The reality he’d actually fucked his daughter hit him like a freight train.



That changed everything.



“I don’t know what to say…fantasy is one thing, and I readily admit that I have had some unsavory experience with young girls that could ruin me, and that it has been successfully capped in mere fantasy since then, but I thought you had been sharing a fantasy. I confess that I surrendered to lust and indulged us both. But the knowledge that I have had intercourse with my own flesh and blood…I don’t know what to say to that…”



“Do you regret this now?” She asked him again, more directly.



Lowering his eyes, unable to look at her this time said plenty. He shook his head again, unable to answer, unsure how he even felt about this. Her story was tragic, his was deviant and unlawful, but this…this he had done, even though he hadn’t the knowledge…this was deranged.



And still, he sat fully naked in the bath with his own daughter…his now grown daughter who had deceived and seduced him within 24 hours. Now the desire he’d felt was swiftly being replaced with guilt, fear, and shame. How could he do such a distasteful thing?



The water had turned cold, as had the mood. Nichole heaved a sigh and gripped the rims of the tub, pulling herself up. Morgan looked up at her, his eyes scanning the full length of her body, the water droplets rolling down her legs. She stepped out and reached for a thick green towel, dried herself and set it down on a bath chair, all in silence. She wasn’t mad; she was hurt and once again cast aside.



Without looking back, and without a word, Nichole walked out of the bathroom and closed the door behind her.



A short time later, Morgan appeared in the living room, now wearing a knee length white bathrobe and slippers. Nichole was fully dressed, sitting primly on the sofa edge. She did not raise her eyes to meet him. Instead, she continued staring at an inch of a swirl on an ornate Navajo rug and told him she needed to get back to pick up her car. She was tired.



He sat down beside her, deflating the cushion with his weight. Pacing his words, he gently offered:



“Nichole, I am uncertain right now what to say, or how to adapt to what’s happened between us. This morning, you were my beautiful assistant. This afternoon, you were my fantasy lover. This evening, all of that changed and now I am faced with this reality that not only have I had a child all these years, I’ve also had sexual relations with my flesh and blood. I feel betrayed and deceived, but I truly understand your motivation. I find it difficult to be upset with you, regardless…but this is a serious predicament for us both.”



“Yes, sir…I understand. I should be getting home.”



“Now, now…” Morgan replied, placing his hand on top of her leg, “no need to regress to the sirs…we’re most certainly beyond that sort of formality.” Briefly, he reflected on the irony of this familiar exchange. When she remained silent, Morgan heaved a sigh and told her he would be a minute to get dressed, then he would return her to the office for her car.



Just as he began to move his hand away, she placed hers on top of it to stop him. When she looked up finally, her sparkling blue eyes appeared hazed with tears. The sight of it squeezed his heart. He smiled thinly at her.



“I need you to tell me if you regret this…please.” she said pleadingly. “I just need to know.”



He still held her gaze and slowly shook his head.



“No, Nichole. As shameful as it is, I do not regret what’s happened. Perhaps we both needed it to happen in our own individual ways, for different reasons. Perhaps it would be a form of closure and heal–”



“I don’t want closure,” she snapped back. “I don’t need closure!I want you in my life, just as we were today, loving each other. Don’t you understand? I know exactly what this is, I’m not stupid. I know it’s twisted and I know it’s taboo, and I don’t care. I can be your daughter and your lover. We can take care of one another and build a real life together. I can keep it a secret, obviously…but it would be our own secret.”



She pulled his hand a bit higher on her thigh. He was unwittingly not the least bit reluctant. “I know I pleased you…I could feel how aroused you were all day long. I know you enjoyed it all, every second. None of it has to change because you know who I really am now. It just doesn’t.



She let go of his hand as she turned on the seat, facing him more directly. Gazing into his eyes as she’d done all along, with pure devotion, Nichole reached across and tugged at his bathrobe enough until it pulled open down the front, and then deliberately took his cock in her hand, gently massaging it. “I know this feels good to you…and you know it.”



He continued looking at her, cracking ever so briefly as the feel of her warm hands on his shaft gave way to forbidden pleasure.



As she massaged him, not to his surprise, his cock began to stiffen at her touch. Nichole stood up and stepped in front of him, and then eased onto her knees between his open legs. This time she looked up at him with desire, with adoration, with need, holding his stubby dick in both hands (though she only needed one). “Ask me again…” she’d told him.



“Ask me again what you did that day after the lake…ask me to do that for you.”



“Nichole…” Morgan began to shake his head. “Don’t do this, my dear…you don’t have to.” His fingers brushed through her hair, down her cheek and lifted her chin toward him.



“Ask me…” she insisted, her eyes loving, tear filled, and pleading.



He couldn’t deny his arousal inside her talented hands. Even if he told her no, she would know he was lying…his own cock was betraying him. Somewhere, his body had yet to connect to the reality of the situation. He found her exquisitely enticing in spite of himself.



“Do it…” she said more firmly, slowly stroking the shaft.



Morgan faltered and leaned back. Caressing her smooth cheek, he relented once again to her desires.



“Wouldn’t you love to give daddy’s penis a little kiss?”



Saying the words caused his cock to twitch upright involuntarily.



The smile that came across her lips was pure delight. She had won. She lowered her head and brushed her lips across his cock head, closing her eyes, and began to kiss and caress his cock with loving devotion. No licking, no sucking. She simply kissed every inch of it, long sensual kisses as she would his lips. He was touched by this gesture and realized that she adored him as her father enough to want his happiness, his pleasure…she loved him.



Finally, somebody did.



That reality cracked through his reluctance to indulge such a deviant relationship and for the first time, Morgan Styles found himself contemplating and rationalizing as he watched his beautiful little girl, now a grown woman, tending to his most intimate member with nothing but exquisite love and devotion. He couldn’t help feel ever more drawn in to her, truly appreciating that she cherished him enough to do all of this for him.



That’s my girl…” he whispered, not quite realizing it until he heard it, and when he did, he realized that he felt more at ease with the notion than he’d expected he should feel.



“That’s it…kiss daddy’s cock…mmm yes, that feels amazing.”



The words flowed easier than he’d thought they would’ve, as if saying it out loud would make the deviance lessen.



Morgan Styles breathed a bit harder, once again surrendering to his darker perversion.



Lifting her chin a bit, when she looked up at him questioningly, yet smiling, Morgan couldn’t help himself.



“You are so beautiful, my dear. I feel that I am too much at the mercy of your sexuality and desire to truly say no to you. I would be a bold liar to tell you that I did not enjoy being inside you, or that I did not enjoy the pleasure you gave me.”



He heaved a sigh and smiled lovingly at her, and once and for all, Morgan Styles fully relented.



Nichole licked slowly up his shaft and twirled her tongue around the head of his dick, looking up into his eyes and smiling as she did so.



“It is a strange situation we’re in…knowing now that you’re my flesh and blood, my only daughter…” he continued, breathing deeper in pleasure as he watched her teasing his cock so perfectly. He was truly amazed he was even able to get hard this many times, let alone cum as much as he had.



“…but, truth be told, I have truly enjoyed fucking your hot little pussy today. You are an outstanding lover…”



Nichole smiled up at him. A single delicate tear snaked her cheek.



“I am proud of you as my little girl, my daughter…and I would be honored to also take you as my lover, my mate…and baby girl, we can fuck as often as you desire…under one condition.” Morgan smiled, teasingly.



Nichole sat up, her eyes questioning, licking languidly up his shaft.



“I know,” she grinned sweetly. “Stop calling you sir…”



Morgan laughed out loud and thumbed away the streak of wetness on her cheek.



“Well, there is that…but I want you to come home, to live here with me, to sleep in my bed. I want us to take baths together, give pleasure to one another. To live openly as lovers. And before you ask, of course you can continue as my personal assistant if you prefer. I want to give you all the love I missed out on throughout your life. I want to kiss your lips, worship your sweet pussy, fall asleep with my cock in your mouth. I want you to be mine, always. I would be honored to be your father and your lover.”



She was stunned and elated. In a graceful hurry, Nichole undressed herself and stood fully naked before him, then leaned down and pushed open his bathrobe, helping him take it off. She climbed onto his lap, straddling him, positioning her bare pussy directly on top of his dick and pressed her nakedness against his stomach.



As his fingers brushed through her hair, Nichole leaned up and began to kiss her father seductively, teasing his lips with her tongue, twirling and tracing it along his own. Her cunt was as wet as always and the silken feel of it made his cock throb. Kissing became more hungry and passionate, lust filled, but they didn’t stop. Morgan lifted her up, stood, and then lay her onto her back across the sofa.



“This is how daddy likes to fuck his little girl…” he’d teased, slipping easily now into the reality he’d always fantasized about. He parted her knees and lay over her, holding himself up by his forearms.



“Now, daddy’s going to eat that sweet young little pussy I’ve missed out on your whole life….sweet, sweet little cunt.”



Morgan heaved his weight onto the sofa as Nichole threw her legs over his shoulders and began running her fingers through his thinning dark and gray hair. Morgan no longer considered the wrongfulness of it all, only the deviance and his most cherished fantasy he could finally indulge.



All he wanted to do was absorb her, baby girl or not…and with a leering, dirty grin, Morgan Styles led into her aching pussy and began lapping at it in long strokes of his tongue, tugging and pulling at her clit, sucking it in. God, how sweet she was. Between licks, sometimes muffled, Morgan had begun to let go — to really let go — of the dark arousal intoxicating his mind.



“Oh, yes mmm…I love my sweet little girl’s cunt.. Do you like that” He tugged her clit. She grinned and wiggled closer. “Mmm, take daddy’s fingers…” as he slid three inside her sloshing wet cunt and began to thrust them hard and deep, sucking her clit into his mouth. His prick ached for her.



“Yes, daddy…mmmm…I love you….” she giggled sweetly.



“Mmm…baby…I need to be inside you…god, you’re an amazing little girl…” Morgan sucked her clit long and hard, pulling his fingers out of her hole and offering them to her, which she readily took into her mouth. He groaned, absently stroking his dick as he watched. She reached down and guided his stubby, but thoroughly happy little prick into her aching pussy and Morgan Styles shoved it in deep, causing her to squeal and giggle.



“Ahh, you like daddy’s hard cock inside you?”



Nichole grinned with pleasure, “Oh, daddy…yes! I love how you fuck me, don’t stop!” She pumped her ass off the sofa to meet his thrust.



This time, Morgan gave it his all, pounding that red little hole as hard as he could, the slapping of his tubby belly against her thin, flat abdomen was ridiculously loud but she didn’t care. She was getting him the way she’d wanted for years…hot for her, hard as a steel, and stuffing her full of his cock.



She pulled her knees to her chest and Morgan lifted her ass in both hands to give himself ample thrusting power, slamming her hole with all his strength. He shoved it in deep, circling his hips, grinding into her even harder. Swirling through his mind was the thought…I’m fucking my little girl…I have a daughter and she’s exquisite…and I’m fucking her little cunt…amazing!



Morgan wrapped his pale, flabby arms around her tiny frame, squeezing her close against him. Nichole moaned and purred as she suckled his dangling man tit in her mouth, gently biting his nipple.



God, she was so slick and wet.



“Oh, my sweet little girl, such heaven.”



Morgan thrust deeper, rolling himself into her, perversion echoing through his head, and unloaded one last scant drizzle of cum into his daughter’s eager pussy, his arms trembling from orgasm and the strain of holding himself up above her. Before they gave out and he toppled hard on her — quite possibly suffocating her — Morgan Styles hoisted himself up, with her clutched in his arm and turned to his back, gently laying her on top of him instead. The bulbous round of his gut forced his stringy cock out of her exquisite cunt and she whimpered softly before cuddling up against him.



What a most peculiar day, Morgan mused, his fat fingers tracing the gentle ridge of her spine. No more rationalizing. What’s done is done, and frankly, he saw no reason why this wouldn’t be a most perfect solution to his life — and hers. He smiled and stroked her long blond locks, barely hearing her tiny whisper against his neck…



“I love you, daddy…and I want to please you…always.”



“You’ve made an old man incredibly happy and fulfilled, my dear.”



Morgan Styles smiled again — he would probably be smiling until he dropped dead — and said the words he knew rang somewhat hollow, but it was a pleasure to get used to it all the same.



“I love you, too, my dear.”



And as she nestled against him, draining wetness onto his thigh, Morgan Styles inhaled deeply, smiled to himself, and closed his eyes.



.Six.



Some time later, a rustle of something coarse brushed against his stomach and Morgan flinched in his sleep. He stirred momentarily but relaxed as he felt flesh graze against his testicles. A quiet, distant awareness that his little girl’s insatiable appetites may well kill him before his next birthday settled into a welcome smile.



A few seconds later, he felt his squat little prick stiffen at the cool wetness suddenly enveloping it. Morgan moaned quietly, shifting his weight a bit to allow her perfect little mouth better access. The way she adored his cock was something he’d never experienced before. He breathed deeply, his large slab of weight more relaxed than it’d been in years.



Cool wetness suddenly became deep, firm sucking. A little jarring but nothing he didn’t get over soon enough. He could imagine how she looked, hungry for his dick, and loved the very thought of waking up to her sweet blow jobs every morning, though he would have to tell her to tread gently when he’s sleeping. He smiled at how much he had to teach her, too.



Deep, firm sucking suddenly became rapid bobbing. Sharp nails dug into his thigh. Morgan Styles winced a little and inhaled a short, quick breath. He wasn’t sure what she was doing down there, but feeling her wet mouth on him at all was delightful. He decided he was almost certainly a little raw from having that much sex in one day — when, truth be told, he’d not had any sex in years and he sorely needed it.



Morgan found himself recalling the trip back from Flag, how she teased him the way she had, how she’d sucked his cock right there on the side of the highway. Bobbing gave way to long, deep sucks, a little harder than before. A little disconcerting. He felt her fingers graze across his testicles — less gracefully than before, but it was still nice and Morgan ever so gradually began to thrust into her wanton mouth. She began to suck him harder, tugging at it. He drifted back to the side of the road, imagining the sweet head he was getting and how amazing it felt.



Morgan muttered softly: “Lovely girl.” He spread his legs apart, the outer one dropping off the edge of the sofa, bracing his foot on the floor.



“Finger daddy’s asshole. Mmm…you’ve got me so hard, baby.”



This time, she didn’t oblige. She continued slurping hard on his prick though, and Morgan accepted that she wasn’t in the mood. She seemed quite eager for it, making such noise this time. The reality that he’d discovered his daughter and fucked her again and again flooded back to his sleepy thoughts. He drifted again, remembering how she arched her pert little ass up at him, spreading her cheeks, begging him to fuck her asshole. God how tight it was.



Morgan was coming awake with arousal, he could feel the cum swirling in his balls, the ache racing through his flesh as she bobbed and sucked hard on his prick. “Mmm….ahhh, yes….that’s it…suck daddy’s cock…” he muttered again, tilting his head back to indulge. Love daddy’s cock…”



With another few tugs, a little harder than was comfortable, and this time definite teeth scraping, in spite of himself, Morgan Styles erupted another load of cum into her mouth in rapturous spurts. Over his own heaving breath, he vaguely heard a muffled cough, sort of a hack…brief…and though his eyes were closed, he could tell she’d moved away.



The sound of clanking glass nearby jolted Styles fully awake. The haze of sleep wore off easily, though he was groggy and a little disoriented. He was alone on the sofa, naked and spent, but quite satiated. Rubbing his eyes, squinting away sleep, Morgan Styles glanced absently at her approaching from his right and turned his face to greet his lovely angel with a smile.



“I was wondering where you went,” he said as he struggled to pull himself upright, “…leaving daddy all alo–” the words died in his throat.



What the fuck?



Towering above him stood the lanky Lena Gilbert, staring down at him with a lustful glint in her eye that made his cock shrivel into his rib cage.



“What the…what are you doing here? How did you get in here? he grunted, confusion swirling, absently reaching for his bathrobe to cover himself, but the robe was not there. Morgan Styles grabbed a throw pillow instead and pulled it across his groin, disgusted and outraged by this woman’s incomprehensible refusal to take no for an answer.



And where was Nichole? His baby girl?



Lena cocked her head to the side and smiled adoringly at him. The scratchy, hoarse drawl oozed from her thin, wrinkled lips as she set a glass onto the dark wood coffee table. Morgan followed it with his gaze, then looked up at her again, his brow furrowing, his body suddenly chilled.



“Oh, Morgan, don’t you dare start fussing at me, now.” she retorted. “I had to go rinse my mouth out, thank you very much. You know, you could’ve warned me before you blasted me in the mouth with that mess.”

After I awoke in the morning with Kelly still on top of me, I just lay there enjoying the feeling. Kelly sure was an incredible beauty.



I started to think about what it would be like to be with her every day. But then I remembered, she was married and only mine for this weekend. That was a fantasy killer. Even still, it would be wonderful to be able the hold her, kiss her and make love to her every day.



My hands were on her back and gently rubbing her soft skin. So smooth and warm. It was fantastic to pretend she was mine.



A few minutes of rubbing and Kelly started to wake. I loved watching her slowly come back to life. Her hand came up and rubbed her eyes. Then she seemed to realize where she was and lifted her head to look at me. “Morning. How long you been awake,” she asked?



“Just long enough to enjoy the view.”



“What view? The top of my head?”



“Much better than what I would have seen in my bed.”



Kelly leaned her head to me and kissed me. “Thank you!” She lay her head back down for a few seconds. “Are you up for a shower?”



“Well, I’m not up… ” I flexed my hips upward on the word up, “… yet but I could be.”



Kelly lifted her head to look at me and said, “You’re bad.” Then she kissed me.



“It isn’t all my fault you know.”



“So whose fault is it?”



“Yours of course. Well yours and Darrel’s. If it hadn’t been for you, I would have been safely tucked into my bed.”



“Are you complaining?”



“Not a complaint, just an observation.”



Kelly laughed then sat up. She pushed the comforter back and climbed off me. As she hit the floor, she bent over a bit and I looked at the lower half of her body. She reached between her legs, hooked her fingers into the leg openings of her panties and pulled on the material to straighten the panty between her legs. Her stockings were still mostly up on her legs but they were wrinkled and dishevelled. “Look, you still haven’t completely unwrapped your present yet.”



“Give me time. You shouldn’t rush me you know.”



“If you don’t come now, I’ll do it for you.”



“We can’t have that.” I swung my legs off the side of the bed and onto the floor. Kelly turned and headed to the bathroom. She went to the tub and leaned over to turn on and adjust the water temperature. What a sight. Her long legs topped off with perfect ass. The T bar panties stretched tight along her ass and over her pussy.



My cock was responding to the beautiful sight. I walked up behind her and put my cock head between her legs. With my hands were on her hips, I started to hump her. “Stop that or we’ll never get into the shower.”



“Stop what? Are you feeling something?” I joked.



Kelly’s hand came back and quickly swatted my hip. I did not move away. She stood and pulled the shower curtain closed as she turned on the shower.



She turned to me and said, “Now it’s time to finish the unwrapping.” I dropped to my knees. Her pussy was just about head level. I could smell the combination of our sexes. It was intoxicating. My hands were on her hips and I slowly pushed the waist band of her panties down. The top of her landing strip came into view. I leaned forward and kissed her stomach and my tongue then brushed the curly hairs. Lower the panties went. My tongue went lower as well.



Soon the top of her slit was under my tongue. I pushed my tongue into the slit and touched the side of her clit. Kelly grabbed my head and held me there. Her legs opened a little and she leaned back a bit. I was able to suck her clit between my lips. Kelly reacted by groaning and pulling my head deeper into her pussy. My hands moved her panties to the floor. As I brought my hands up, I rubbed her legs. When I got to the top of her stockings, I moved one hand between her legs. Kelly moved one foot sideways and my fingers found her wet pussy. Quickly I moved the tips of my fingers between her hot lips and my middle finger hit its mark. I pushed it up and inside of her. I held her clit in my lips and used my tongue to flick the tip of the little bud.



Kelly started to hump my face. A groan came from her throat. She was ready to explode again. I had never been with a woman who could cum so fast.



As the orgasm washed over her, her knees buckled a little. With my free hand, I reached around her and pulled her in close to steady her. Kelly’s body was quaking and shaking again.



After a few seconds, I felt Kelly straighten her legs and stand on her own. I released her and looked up. “Oh Richard, you’re incredible. I’ve never cum so many times in my life.”



“Thank you. I don’t think I’ve ever had the opportunity to make someone come so much.”



“Well I could never tell. You feel like an expert to me.”



I pulled my hand out from between her legs and moved to the top of her stocking. My other hand went to the outside and together, they started to peel the stocking down. It was a little stuck as it had been on her leg for so long. It yielded though and I was able to move the stocking down to her foot. Kelly stepped out of her panties and I removed the stocking. “Here, I’ll take that,” she said. I handed it up to her. I then repeated the actions on the other leg.



As Kelly took the stocking, I picked up her panties. They were soaked. “You better put those in the sink. Oh! Better yet, give them to me and I’ll take them into the shower. I’ll quickly wash them there.” With that, Kelly turned, pulled back the curtain, I handed her the lingerie and she disappeared into the shower. I went to the toilet and started to pee. “Are you coming? A girl can get lonely in here.”



“I’ll be right in. I have to pee. Unless you want me to do it in there!”



“No, it’s alright. You can do it out there.”



When I finished, I climbed into the shower. Just as I did, Kelly was wringing out her panties and then she flipped them over the curtain rod to join the stockings.



She turned to me and asked, “So what do you think now that you’ve finally unwrapped your present?”



“I couldn’t be happier. You are absolutely stunning. Your body is fantastic.”



She stepped over and put her arms around my neck. Her boobs were flattened against my chest. “Thank you Richard. I’m so glad we’ve had this time together. You are an incredible lover.” Kelly then kissed me.



My cock quickly responded and started to grow. I could feel her nipples harden against my chest. The tip of my cock scrapped up along her thighs as it grew. Kelly opened her legs and trapped my cock. I forced one hand between us and found her tit. It felt even better wet. Kelly started to move her hips so her thighs were stroking my cock. A few seconds later, she opened her legs and my cock rose so the shaft lay along her pussy. She closed her legs again trapping me against her.



I moved my other hand down to her bum. I found that crease line at the junction of her legs and butt cheeks and started to move my finger tips along the crease. I love this crease as it always leads to a woman’s most sensitive parts.



Leaning to the side a bit but I found the back of her pussy. She was hot and her outer lips were soft and puffy. I moved back out a little and my fingers found her anus. After running my fingers around the tight opening, I pushed in a bit. Kelly went stiff but did not complain. My finger tip was being lubed by the water flow. I pulled it out and pushed in again. This time, I felt her bum relax just a bit and let my finger go in a little deeper. I was in up to the first joint. Out kisses became deeper. I pulled out my finger and went back in again. This time, I was in up to the knuckle.



“Oh Richard, I’ve never had this before. It feels different but nice.” We continued to kiss as I slowly moved my finger out and then in again. Each time I went in, I went a little deeper. Soon I had my whole finger in her ass.



This being her first time, I moved slowly so she could relax. I also pulled back on my cock so it would rub her pussy lips. I figured if she thought about her pussy, she wouldn’t think about her ass. I was right and I felt her ass muscles relax completely. I could not reach any further without falling over so I just tried to make her cum again.



It wasn’t long before I was rewarded with her shaking and quaking. Her orgasm was powerful and I had to hold her tight to keep her from falling. Kelly sure could cum quickly. I liked that. I liked the feeling of bring pleasure to my lover.



As she started to calm down, I slowly turned us in the tub so Kelly was at the end away from the shower. We kissed and hugged. The warm water on my back felt great.



When she had recovered, I broke the kiss and gently turned her so she was facing the end wall. With one arm around her waist, I place my other hand between her shoulders and gently pushed forward. Her hands came up and she put them on the wall. Kelly was bent at about a 45 degree angle from the waist up.



My hand went to my cock and I aimed the tip for her bum. It landed between her soft firm cheeks. I slowly started to lower the tip enjoying the incredible sensation of her soft skin.



I felt her tense as the tip neared her butt hole. With the stimulation I had given it, I could understand. But I had a lower target in mind and kept sliding down.



As I rounded her cheeks, I pushed forward and my tip found the back part of her outer lips. They were still hot and soft. Pushing forward slowly, the lips yielded. The opening to her hidden treasure offered very little resistance as I slowly entered her. I could feel the muscle band yield to my pressure. The big head entered her and the muscles tightened around the shaft. I held still and just savored the sensation of being inside.



I brought my hands up and cupped each breast. Her nipples were between my fingers and I closed my fingers trapping the hard little buds. Kneading her breasts with my hands, I was able to pull on the nipples as I played with the firm flesh.



Again, this was too much for Kelly as I felt her start to cum.



This time I didn’t want to be left out so I pushed into her pussy deeper. I know I touched her G spot as Kelly let out an, “Oh My God” as I pushed in.



It took maybe four or five thrusts before I was in all the way. Her nipples were still trapped between my fingers and I pulled on them as I worked her breasts. The first wave of her orgasm washed over her body.



Quickly I started to pump her pussy. I wanted to be there with her and feel her pussy quiver around my cock as I came.



A few more thrusts and Kelly was completely in her orgasm. I felt her knees weaken. She pushed against the wall to steady herself against me. I was pumping into her as fast as I could.



Her orgasm started to subside before I came. It was maybe 15 more seconds before I felt my balls signalling they were ready. At this point, I didn’t care.. I pushed in hard and held still as my juice shot out and penetrated deep into her. This caused Kelly to have another orgasm. The feeling of my cum shooting deep inside of her brought it on. We both stood there and rested as the incredible sensations relaxed.



Kelly straightened up and started to turn to me. I pulled my softening cock out of her. Facing me now, she put her arms around my neck again and we kissed. It was a slow leisurely kiss, so satisfying and enjoyable.



After a few seconds, I felt her shiver. “Wow! Let me under the water will ya? It’s cold at this end.” Still hugging, we turned so she was under the water.



Kelly let go of my neck. She stepped backward, leaned her head back and the water cascaded over her head. It was erotic watching the water stream through her hair and over her face.



I picked up a bar of soap and reached forward. The bar in one hand and the other empty. Starting at the front of her shoulders, I rubbed the bar around and made a little foam. The water spray was working against me. But what the heck. I switched the bar to the other hand and rubbed the foam into her skin. Kelly lifted her head and smiled at me. “That feels so good.”



With encouragement like that, I continued. Her breasts were next. I paid particular attention to her nipples. Luckily, by lifting her head, the water spray was now mainly in her back and the foam lasted longer. Her stomach was next, then her lower abdomen.



As I got to her landing strip, my hand was now upside-down with my finger pointed to our feet. I moved the bar of soap to the strip and lathered it up. My free hand took over and I worked the whole area much more than was needed to make it clean. Mind you, I didn’t receive any complaints.



Slowly I moved my hand lower. Kelly opened her legs and let my hand slowly slide over her sex. She was still soft and puff and hot. My fingers easily entered her lips and I washed and manipulated her. It was easy to tell when she was clean but I didn’t stop. One finger at a time entered her and then withdrew. I had never had this much enjoyment in a shower before.



“You know Richard, if you don’t stop soon, I just might cum again.”\



“And your point is?” We laughed. “Ok, if you insist. Turn and give me your back.” Pulling my hand out, she turned.



Starting on her shoulders I worked my way down making sure I worked her breasts from behind as I went. Her buns also received special attention. Somehow, my fingers found her bum hole again and just as I started to work my way in, she said, “You like my bum don’t you.”



“Such a beautiful bum. I think it needs some special attention.”



“Well that would be a first for me. No one has every shown an interest if it like you have before.”



“What a shame. Well maybe I will have to introduce you to the pleasures it can give you.”



“Pleasures? From my bum?”



“Yupp. If you learn to trust me and relax, it can be fun for the both of us.”



“Really! Well I do trust you. I will have to learn the relax part I guess.”



“Well you did earlier. I don’t think you realized it though.”



“I did? No! I didn’t realize.”



“Ok, turn to me and give me your leg.” Kelly turned. She put on hand on the curtain rod and the other on the wall. She lifted her leg and held it at about my hip. Quickly I soaped up both hands, turned slightly and starting at her toes, I rubbed both sides of her leg at the same time. Higher and higher I went. Past her knee, up her thighs right to her bum cheek with one hand and her pussy with the other. My fingers found her softness again and started to stroke her.



“Stop that! I might want to cum again.”



“Spoil sport! Just as I was having fun.”



Kelly put her leg down. “Besides, I can’t stand here all day with my leg up. It hurts after a while.” She stood there for a bit then her other leg came up. “Hurry now.” I quickly soaped up and repeated the leg washing motions.



“Ok! My turn,” Kelly said. “Turn around for me.” I turned. Kelly started at my shoulders and soaped and massaged her way down my back. It felt incredible. Her hand just slid over my skin. The water worked like a lubricant and the soap made the water a super lubricant. My skin felt unbelievable as she slid her hands over me. It was like I was on drugs or something as every movement she made was amplified because of the water and soap. I was getting hard even though I had just cum.



Lower and lower she went. Getting to my bum, her hand went between the cheeks and started to work around my hole. Then she took her hands away and I felt the bar of soap being pushed between my cheeks. After a few quick strokes, the bar was removed and her hand returned.



This time, with the soap as a lubricant, she was able to push her fingers into me a little. Like Kelly, this was a first for me. I had done anal with my ex but she had never played with me. Hell, we had never had a shower together. In all the years we were together, we had never done anything like this. I was so turned on.



Kelly pulled her finger out of me. She pushed on my back indicating she wanted me to move a bit. As I stepped forward, I heard what sounded like Kelly sliding down to the tub floor. It was only a second or two before I felt her hands on my legs. Quickly she soaped down my legs washing the backs, sides and front as she went.



When she was finished, I felt a hand on my hip pulling me. I understood she wanted me to turn and I did. Kelly was on her knees, the shower was now spraying my lower half and washing over her head. My cock was right at her face level. She leaned forward and the tip disappeared into her mouth. Her tongue swirled around the tip and started to flick the underside.



I groaned at the pleasure she was giving me. I looked down and for a quick second, Kelly looked up at me. Our eyes met. There was a look of pure eroticism in her eyes. It made me hotter just seeing her.



She let my cock slip out of her mouth. To say I was disappointed would be an understatement. Kelly stood and looking me in the eye, she stepped forward. Her breasts pushed into my chest, my cock touched her water softened landing strip and out lips met. At that moment, I wanted her so badly.



Before I knew it, Kelly stepped back. She took the soap and started on my shoulders. Across my chest she worked then down to my breasts. She played with my nipples. Leaning back, the water spray washed the soap off me. She then leaned over and sucked one of my nipples into her mouth. Her tongue flicked the end. Again, this was a new thing for me. I guess I am one of the lucky ones as I felt a little jolt head down my body and into my cock. I have since learned that not all men feel this when their nipples are stimulated. I am happy to say it felt great.



Kelly stood up and resumed the soaping. She did my upper stomach then my lower stomach. My hips were next. With her hand upside-down, she ran her fingers, through my pubic hair. I could not believe how erotic and sensual this whole experience was. Standing there, I was anticipating her hands on my cock. If her hand felt this great on the rest of my body, what would it feel like on the most sensitive part of my anatomy?



The moment of truth was here. She took the bar of soap and made a big lather in her hands. She put the soap down and looked me in the eyes. Without breaking eye contact, she stepped a little toward me. Both of her hands made contact with my cock at the same time. With one hand in front of the other, she slid them down my shaft. Her eyes never broke contact with mine.



I could never have believed that the feelings could be this intense. I had rubbed my cock in the shower before, but her hands were the softest, most erotic I had ever felt. Slowly she stroked my hard cock. I then felt her hand cup my balls and she started to roll them around my sack. With the stimulation she was giving me, I was feeling the start of my orgasm deep inside.



Kelly leaned over, closed her eyes and our lips met. Her nipples pushed into me. Her hands were working their magic.



Suddenly, she stopped everything. I opened my eyes just in time to see her drop to her knees. She was looking up at me the whole time. The shower spray washed over me. With her hand still on my cock, she aimed it for her mouth. Moving forward, my cock was half way in on the first gulp. Her eyes closed as the water was all over her face. Her lips closed and she started a rhythmic bobbing of her head. Her lips were stroking my cock. I put my hands on her cheeks and started to pull her face onto my cock. Kelly’s tongue was swirling around and around making my desire greater. Her other hand never left my balls.



Never had I felt anything like this. It was erotic heaven.



Suddenly I was aware of her hand on my bum. Kelly had let go of my cock. Her fingers moved between my cheeks and found my butt hole. Slowly but steadily, she pushed one finger into me. For some reason, my cock felt like it was getting harder the further she penetrated.



I was so close to cumming. This was almost too much for me. My head tilted back and my eyes closed. I was experiencing excitement in two places at once. I was feeling things getting ready to explode.

I watched as the group stood up to go with Katie. I noticed a few wet crotches and felt my cock harden a little and wondered how I’d be able to last through four auditions, especially with the cock hungry brunette. Once the group left the room, I turned my attention to the four young women who agreed to show off for me. There were two blondes, one strawberry blonde and that one brunette.



“Okay. We need to decide the order for the auditions. Is anybody in a big hurry to get out of here?”



One of the blondes raised her hand and said she needed to get to class within the hour and asked if she could go first.



“Any objections to letting her go first? No? Okay, you’ll go first. Anybody else?”



The brunette raised her hand and said she didn’t mind going last.



“Okay. Shall I flip a coin to see who goes second?”



The strawberry blonde said she didn’t mind waiting and suggested the other go before her.



“Well, that was easy enough. Even though you’ll say your name at the beginning of the audition, I’d like to know your first names now, if you don’t mind. We’ll start with you,” I said, pointing to the blonde who wanted to go first.



“Hi, I’m Molly.”



“I’m Sierra,” said the strawberry blonde.



“I’m Suzy,” said the second blonde.



“And I’m wet – I mean – I’m Wanda,” chuckled the brunette.



“Oh, my… I can tell this is going to be good,” I said. “Well, let’s go to our studio and I’ll go over a few things with you before Molly gets things going.”



My group stood up and we walked towards the studio. Wanda walked beside me while the other three followed. When we arrived, I pushed open the door and showed them in. “Here’s a restroom, changing area and waiting area over here. This armoire is where the dildos, condoms and lubes are stored. And over there is the set. This is used only for auditions, so it’s smaller and not as fancy, but it serves the purpose. Over here are some extra props you’re welcome to use… a big mirror, a handheld mirror, a hairbrush, some artificial fruit and vegetables, a baseball bat… feel free to look through everything and use whatever you like. If you want to use anything as an insertable, please remember to use a condom on it. I’ll be over there behind the camera. Molly, you go ahead and look through the props if you want, and let me know when you’re ready to start. The rest of you please have a seat and think about what you’re going to do when it’s your turn. Any questions before we start? Molly?”



Molly looked up from the props. She looked scared. “Um, so, tell me again what I’m supposed to do. I’m sorry. I’m just nervous. I’ve never done this in front of anybody besides my girlfriend.”



“That’s okay, Molly. Just relax. Maybe it’ll help if you think about your girlfriend. Once you get started, you’ll tell me your first and last name, when you were born and something about yourself. It can be something like this is your first time in front of a camera, or that you’re in school, or anything else you want to offer. It doesn’t have to be more than a sentence. After that, you’re on your own to seduce the camera – or your girlfriend. Remember, there’s a cue card beside the camera for the basic info. Sound okay?”



Molly looked a little less stressed. “Okay, so, I say that stuff and then I start masturbating, right?”



“It’s okay, Molly. You don’t have to do this if you’re not comfortable. We can reschedule if you want, or you can just walk away. Whatever you want.”



“No, I want to do this. I just don’t want to mess it up, that’s all.”



“Don’t worry about messing up. Just imagine that you’re showing off for your girlfriend. I’m sure that will be just fine. Okay?”



“Okay. How about if I just use my fingers and not any dildos and stuff?”



“Sounds wonderful! We have lots of customers who love that sort of thing. Ready?”



“Yes, I guess so. Tell me when.”



I got to the camera quickly, turned on the studio lights and did a quick sound check, and then said, “When!”



Molly walked in and stood in front of the camera. “Hi. I’m Molly McKenzie, and I was born on June 15, 1993. I met my girlfriend shortly after I started classes at the university and we’ve been lovers ever since. When I can’t be with her, I pretend my fingers are hers.” About halfway through that sentence she began unbuttoning her blouse and moved her hands over her bare breasts. She pinched her nipples slightly before tugging them towards the camera. Her eyes closed as her right hand moved slowly down to the waist of her shorts and then disappeared inside. A moment later she pushed the shorts down revealing her completely smooth mound. Her shirt fell open as she alternated the squeezing of her breasts with her left hand. Kicking the shorts aside, she spread her feet apart and plunged two fingers inside her glistening pussy. Her head tilted back as she moaned and then pushed a third finger inside. “Oh, baby… you know what I want,” she whispered loudly. Her fourth finger disappeared inside her now dripping pussy. Each time she moved her hand out from her body a little string of fluid followed along with it. “Come on, baby… give me what I want,” she whispered. Her head leaned forward, her hair falling down over her breasts. I heard a loud moan as she straightened up a bit and turned her back to the camera. “That’s it, baby,” she moaned. “Give it to me.” She bent over again, posing with her ass to the camera. I watched intently as her hand eased inside her pussy. “Oh, baby! Do it to me!” She eased her right hand out and replaced it with her left, then pushed her thickly coated right hand into her ass.



It was at that point that I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to keep my cock in my pants, much less embarrass myself by soaking my jeans.



Molly alternated the motion of her hands, fucking into her pussy as she pulled out of her ass, and vice versa. After just a few thrusts, she squirted forcefully onto the floor, letting out a gut wrenching moan and then sighing, “You’re so good to me, baby.”



I dialed back the lights and turned off the camera before telling her that was fantastic. I must’ve startled her because she turned around abruptly and just stared towards me.



“Um… was that okay?” she asked.



“That was unbelievably hot! If you can do that again, you’ll have a big career here.”



“Oh, okay!” She smiled as if she didn’t realize what she’d just done. “I guess I’d better get cleaned up and go to class. Is that okay?”



“Sure thing! I’m sure we’ll be in touch soon!”



Molly picked up her shorts and scurried to the restroom. I looked down at the crotch of my pants and saw a wet spot. Maybe nobody would notice, I thought to myself. I walked slowly to the waiting area and told Suzy it was her turn. She smiled while staring at my crotch. I don’t know if she was looking at my cock straining against the fabric or the wet spot that formed while watching Molly. I guess it didn’t really matter.



Suzy stood up, picked up a really thick suction-base dildo she’d prepared with a condom, and asked if I’d carry the big mirror for her. Wearing a satiny robe, she walked onto the set and asked me to place the mirror on the floor, which I did. No sooner done than she had the robe off and stood before me completely nude. Although she was a little on the skinny side, her breasts were quite large but looked natural. There was a wisp of pale blonde hair in the middle of her mound that perfectly matched the color of the shoulder length hair above. She bent over and stuck the dildo in the middle of the mirror. When she stood up again she asked if I liked what I saw.



“Very pretty,” I replied, trying not to be unprofessional. “I’m sure you have plenty of admirers.”



“I do, but I’m very selective. He has to be hung like a horse, know what he wants, and take it when he wants it. And he’d better not want to share it.”



“Well, if you’d said you wanted to go last…” I chuckled. “But there are two others waiting for their auditions. Let’s see what you have to offer and we can talk about what I want later.”



Suzy pouted a little and then said she thought I’d like what she had to offer. “I’m ready whenever you are, Mr. Crude.”



I went back to the camera quickly, turned on the studio lights and then said, “Action!”



“Hi, I’m Suzy Jones, and I was born horny for big cocks on April 2, 1992. It’s been a while since I had a man who could fill my needs, so I bide my time with this little thing.” At that moment, she squatted over the tip of the dildo and eased down onto it. I watched as it slowly but surely disappeared inside her pussy and caused the slight bulge of her tummy. When she lifted herself up, the dildo glistened with her wetness. “I need a man with a huge cock to stretch out my pussy and fuck me hard.” Her up and down motion quickened. The lights intensified the glistening of the pussy juice as it trickled down the sides of the dildo. “I need a man who will use me without any consideration for my pleasure. Just getting fucked by a huge cock is all I need. I’ll do just about anything for a man who’ll use me like the fuck toy I am.” She kept sitting down and lifting up as if she was riding a real cock. The view in the mirror showed how her pussy lips were both stretched and gripping the dildo. After several more fast strokes, she quickly got off the dildo, got onto all fours beside it and then deep throated it. I watched her throat expand as the dildo passed into it. She definitely had my attention. She pulled up and smiled at the camera and then said, “I love the way I taste after a good fuck, almost as much as I love the taste and feeling of hot cum squirting down my throat. But you know what I love the best?” She got up and squatted over the dildo again, but this time when she lowered herself, the dildo disappeared inside her asshole. “mmmmmm. that’s it! Fuck me in the ass! Yeah, baby – fuck me in the ass!” I wondered if she was trying to seduce me or if she was just running through her audition. “May I rub my clit, sir? No? Spank it, you say? Yes sir!” Still fucking up and down on the dildo, she slapped her palm sharply against her pussy several times. Her lips turned bright pink at first, and then red after many more slaps. Her breathing became labored. Short, quick breaths. “Oh! Sir, may I cum? Please? May I?” A second later she began one of several orgasms, still impaled on the dildo. “Thank you, sir. Thank you for allowing your fuck toy to cum.”



I dialed back the lights and turned off the camera. There was no need to look at my crotch. I knew what I’d see.



From the dimly lit set I heard a weak voice ask, “Help a girl up, sir?”



I walked over to Suzy who was still crouched over the dildo which was deep in her ass. She raised her hands up towards me and I lifted her up and off the dildo. I noticed a large puddle on the mirror surrounding the base of the dildo.



“See anything you liked, sir?”



“As a matter of fact, yes. Yes, I did. Hadn’t you noticed?”



Suzy looked at the bulge in my jeans, smiled broadly and said, “It’s even better when there’s a big dildo in my pussy and a huge cock in my ass. And I’m not one of those prissy girls who won’t take it straight from my ass to my mouth. You can do whatever you want.”



I cleared my throat and told her I thought sure we’d be able to work out something and that I’d be in touch with her soon.



She looked down at my crotch again while licking her lips and said, “Don’t make me wear out another dildo while I’m waiting.” She then bent over to pick up the mirror and wiggled her ass at me. “You know it’ll feel good once you get inside me.”



“Yes. Well. I’d better get to the next audition. Thank you, and I’ll be calling you soon.”

I love the way he man-handles me. The way he worships my curves. I’m only four kilograms lighter than his 84, 162cm’s in height to his 175 and yet he tosses me around as though I’m nothing.



He grabs me to him, possessing me, attacking my mouth with his own. Grasps my soft flesh firmly with his strong hands. Squeezes and smoothes his hands across me; my belly, my hips, my arse, my upper arms, my breasts. Sucking at my ear lobes, pulling them wetly into his mouth then releasing them. He squeezes my full breasts with those hands some more, lifting and separating and lifting again.



I barely have time to catch my breath before he’s kissing me again, plundering my mouth with his tongue. Now he moves to my neck, kissing and licking, nipping that spot just below my ear – the one that makes me gasp loudly it feels so good.



“Let’s go to bed,” he mutters in my ear, before backing me down the hall, his mouth re-fused to mine. His hands are clamped on my arse, my “luscious, peachy bum.”



“Peachy,” I giggle, the first time he tells me this.



“I love it.” He’d replied, and love it he did.



We’re in the bedroom and now he’s tearing down my pants, reefing off my knickers. He pulls me to him once again, kissing me ferociously, one hand cradling the back of my head, the other reaching down to tease my mons. His fingers slide lower, into my slick heat, and he groans into my mouth. Then backs me towards it, and pushes me on the bed.



He follows closely after, re-attaching his mouth to mine, nudging my legs apart with one strong thigh. He hooks his hips between them, widening them further, and with one sure stroke he’s inside me, thick and hard, filling me up so completely I cry out in shock. I don’t have a chance to recover before he starts up a rhythm, I wrap my plump legs around his slim hips and hang on for dear life.



He’s kissing my neck again now, holding my head in place with his hands, the thumb of his right hand hooked around into my mouth so I can suck it. I suck it hard, lick at it, bite it gently, roll it over my tongue. I wish it was his cock and I tell him so, around his thumb.



“What’s that?” he mumbles, distracted, against my neck.



I spit out his thumb.



“I want your dick in my mouth.”



He thrusts into me, HARD. My head falls back and I cry out again, with the pleasure/pain. I swear he swells to twice the size inside of me, and I squeeze hard with my pussy. He growls at me, pulling my head up to look him in the eye.



“I love that.” He tells me. I squeeze him again.



“Minx.”



I whimper as he abruptly pulls out, grasping under each of my knees to spread me even wider before burying his face between my legs. The suction on my clit is so intense I cum almost immediately. He jams two thick fingers in me and I start screaming. It feels so fucking good and the pleasure goes on and on as he repeated hooks his fingers up and on the spot beneath my bladder.



Mercifully, his fingers begin to slow and finally withdraw and I feel myself come back to earth. He’s lapping at me now, licking up all my juices, telling me I taste so fucking sweet and he just can’t get enough.



My breathing is returning to normal but I’m still in a daze as he leaves my quim and kisses his way back up. Over my mons, over my belly which he pays particular attention to, to my breasts which he lays a kiss on each. He kisses up my neck to my mouth and I eagerly accept his tongue, tasting my honey on his lips.



“I love you,” I tell him. “I love you.”



“I know,” he answers, and enters me again.



He rolls us so that I’m above him, his glorious cock still inside me. I’m still recovering from my orgasm but I squeeze him all the same because I know how much he loves it. He scoots down and lifts me so that he’s still inside me but can reach my tits with his mouth. I brace my arms on the bed on either side of his head and watch as he cups each full breast, squeezing one, while guiding the other to suck at it.



His mouth pulls strongly on my large puffy nipple, they’re dark pink and I love it when he handles them roughly. He doesn’t disappoint, pulling his head back with my nipple in his mouth, stretching out the flesh and causing ripples of pleasure to spread through me. The hand on my other breast clasps it so firmly, I’ll have bruises again tomorrow but I don’t care – it feels so good.



He releases my right nipples from his mouth and it glistens wetly as he stares at it in satisfaction. He moves to the left, biting and sucking before moving his mouth up to the fleshy side of my boob and sucks hard, raising a hickey. The pleasure builds further and I start to grind up and down on his rod, rubbing my clit against his pubic bone.



Suddenly, he flips me again before pulling out of me. Before I can protest, he’s wrenching open my legs and diving between them once more to eat my cunt.



He uses long, luscious licks this time, his tongue flattened against me as he licks me from my slit to my clit. He licks and licks, getting me hotter and hotter, making meal of me with all the appreciative sounds men make when eating something pleasurable. Then without preamble, he dips lower, swirling his tongue over and around my pursed little arsehole. His tongue becomes insistent, trying to gain entry, but I’m not ready for that yet, and can’t let him.



He grunts in exasperation and flips me again, pulling me up onto my knees and positioning me, lining his cock up again and thrusting into my cunt. The different angle feels so good, so very good and before I know it I’m crying out uncontrollably again, screaming out my pleasure as his thrust drive me into the headboard of his bed.



My pussy is squeezing his cock with my cum and he pulls out. Not ready to cum yet, he tells me, before shoving my legs wider apart and applying his mouth to my arse once more. This time I’m ready to let him get his tongue inside me, this time I want to feel it slip wetly into me and he groans against me as he makes it inside. His fingers are inside my pussy, now they pull my wetness back, bathing my puckered little hole with my juices.



He pushes me onto my side and spoons me, one leg bent back over his hip. His fingers continue to stroke my pussy, pushing my cream down to my other hole. His other hand lovingly strokes my belly, while he whispers in my ear how luscious I am. How he wants to get me pregnant and watch me grow. How he wants to see my breasts fill with milk. But for now, how he wants to fuck my arse.



We’ve never done it before. He tried once and I freaked out. I’ve never had it there and wasn’t ready. I’m ready now.



I wiggle my peachy arse against his hard cock and without another word, he lines it up against my slippery little hole, and begins to push. I cry out in pain and it begins to breech the band of muscles protecting it.



“Push out baby. Like you’re taking a shit.”



“Ew,” I giggle, but give it a try. He slips in a little further and while it still hurts, the pain has lessened.



He slips in slowly, a little at a time, letting me get used to him. Each time he gently thrusts, I push out like he said, and slowly but surely he makes his way in until finally, his balls are resting against my pussy.



I reach back curiously to feel where he’s inside of me. I feel really full, and it’s not an especially pleasurable feeling, but it’s not unpleasant either. I give an experimental wiggle and he begins to pull out.



It still feels weird until he begins to slide back in and then it begins to hurt. My small cries of pain seem to excite him, and unbelievably he swells even further inside of me. He grips my hips.



“Push out baby, keep pushing out.”



I do so and this time, when he pushes back in, it actually starts to feel good. I notice some kind of pressure at the top of my back entrance, which feels as though it’s sending tingles to my clit.



I reach down to rub at my button and the pleasure increases. Oh my god. I had no idea.



Now I’m pushing back to meet his thrusts, and he’s gripping my hips hard enough to leave more bruises. The sensation of that great, hard rod sliding in and out of me is totally different from how it feels in my pussy, but it feels just as good. He’s powering in and out of my now, as I scrub furiously at my clit. He moves a hand down from my hip to slide a finger inside my cunt and the feeling of having two holes full of him is too much. Pleasure spreads from the area above my arsehole, to my clit and inside my cunt and I explode with an orgasm so powerful I black out a little. But not before I feel him detonate inside my back channel, going off and off, the tightness allowing me to feel every last bit of it.



When I come to, he’s softening inside of me.



“That was unbelievable,” he tells me, kissing the back of my neck.



He slips from me, turning onto his back and pulling me into his side.



“I took your cherry,” he teases gently, placing his hand on my behind.



“I love you,” I tell him, and fall asleep in his arms.

Categories
December 2017
M T W T F S S
« Feb    
 123
45678910
11121314151617
18192021222324
25262728293031