morning.

Although the law firm was one of the oldest and most prestigious in Memphis,

Tennessee it had several financial reverses during the last three years. Up

until the arrival of the 30 year old black attorney the mood of the personnel was

decidedly on edge.

The turn about had taken place as a result of Mr. Bettis being retained by the

black employees of the Greater Louisiana Oil Company. Several of the white

officers had made rather derogatory remarks about the “black porch monkeys” under

their tutelage. As a result the black employees were on the verge of the largest

out of court settlement in the history of the country. Leading the charge and

final settlement was Mr. Jerome Bettis; former black gang member of the BGE’s and

now a up and coming young attorney; who was also the savior of the old south

white law firm of Wright & Wright.

Although the white law firm was far more racist than the Greater Louisiana Oil

Company they understood business. It was now good business to hire as a full

partner the arrogant Mr. Bettis. The good Mr. Bettis and his new friends at

Wright and Wright were due to receive their one third share of one hundred fifty

million dollars. Even the old line Southern Partners were bowing and bestowing

on Mr. Bettis anything his little black heart desired.

Mr. Bettis walked into the law library of the firm and started shaking hands with

the twelve senior partners. The patriarch of the firm, Mr. Bougehard Wright

welcomed the black upstart with open arms. “Anything that this law firm can

provide to make your work easier is at your disposal…” came the smiling

dribble.

Mr. Bettis had completed his homework on the prestigious law firm weeks ago. The

Research staff was unequaled and the talents of the support staff were the best

of any law firm in the country.

“Let me cut through the bullshit Bougehard. I will make this firm an obscene

amount of money this next twelve months and I will demand perfection…..and

total obedience. First I need a top notch assistant….that will be Mrs. Anna

Belvoir.. That is satisfactory to you isn’t it Bougehard ?” he arrogantly asked.

The senior partner felt his face become red with anger. Anna Belvoir was the

most senior; most competent para legal the firm possessed and she was considered

the private property of the senior partner. Her long lean frame was topped by

beautiful long red hair which she usually wore in a severe bun. Although she

usually wore conservative suits most of the young studs in the law office noticed

the 36-26-36 sleek frame. Her 36C breasts were showing only the slightest of

droop; and were topped by rock hard pencil sized nipples that became hard at the

slightest measure of arousal.

Since her husband Jim, an overworked accountant seldom found the time, energy, or

…End of the part1. To be continued..

I walked over and asked her if she minded if I shared her table. It
was early and there were several tables available, but I wanted to
chance it anyways. She said it was fine and then went back to her
book.

The waiter came over and I ordered just a cup of coffee as I wasn’t
in the mood for much more than coffee and her. The waiter winked at
me, smiling. I was a regular here, and he rushed off, swishing this
way and that, to get me my favorite house brand. The lady appeared to
not have noticed he was even there.

I was used to this sort of thing… lots of young, career,
professional, yuppie females come into this place, looking to meet Mr.
Right, or looking to impress this boss or that. They liked to drink
their coffee, sit at their tables and look good, and more often than
not I’d end up taking them home and using them like they wanted to be
used, then sending them on their way. Tonight seemed like it’d be
nothing out of the ordinary. I could get through her book and touch
that animalistic part of her that brought her here.

The waiter brought me my coffee and swished away, trailing his hand
across my shoulder as he past me by. I smiled and shook my head,
looking around surreptitiously. I caught her glancing my way and
smirked. She could be had…

I looked at the book she was so enthralled by and read the title. I
was slightly surprised and pleased to see that she was reading one of
my favorites, a new book called “The Living One”.

“You read much horror?” I asked her.

She looked up at me, slightly confused, and said “Beg pardon?”

“You read much horror?”

“Oh! This. Yes… I pick up a book now and then. I like coming in
here and finding some dark corner and curl up with a good suspense
story. What about you? I take it you’ve read this?” She held up her
book so that I could get a better view of the spine.

“It’s one of my favorites… in fact I have an autographed copy in my
library. Maybe you’d like to see it sometime.” I hinted with a
slight smile, just barely parting my lips.

“Maybe…. but you’ll have to do better than that.” She laughed
lightly, shaking her head and tossing her hair to the side.

With her hair out of the way I could see her ear, smooth and clean and
milky white. And pinned neatly in the lobe was a gold and silver
labrys, with a diamond at the head of the axe-handle that caught the
light and sparkled. Then her hair fell back into place and the sight
of her ear was taken from me until some later time….

I continued to look at her, roaming my eyes across her face, seeing
each line in her forehead, each little smile-crease around her eyes,
and each pore of her cheeks. Her skin was white and powdery. Her
cheekbones were high and well pronounced. Her eyelashes were just
long enough to twitch when she smiled at me.

Her eyes…. one was a deep green and one was brown, and in both the
pupils had “broken” making trails down through the color and into the
white. She looked like a cat, with those eyes.

She had sat there the entire time I was staring at her, with a slight
smile on her face, and her tongue just barely flickering in and out of
her teeth. When she saw that I was done she locked gazes with me and
asked me, “You like what you saw?”

I just barely breathed “very much.”

“Good.” She returned to her book.

I thought my chances were nill at this point so I moved to get up,
before I had even half-risen her arm shot out and grabbed mine.
“Sit,” she said. Her eyes never left the page that she was reading.

I sat back down and looked at her. Now it was my turn to be puzzled.
What did she want? Who did she think she was? Who did she think *I*
was?

So we just sat there for a little while, the waiter coming back now
and then to ask me if everything was okay, to wink at me, to get me
more coffee, and to swish in my general direction.

People came and went, talking, flirting, picking each other up,
looking each other over, and still we just sat there, not a word said.
But every time I tried to get up she’d pull me back and I’d hear that
…End of the part1. To be continued..

“Hey babe, want to dance?” he asked, in a melancholy voice.

“Sure, why not?” she said.

So they began to dance. She wasn’t a great dancer. She just
kind of kept shaking her arms and legs the same way, over and
over again. After a while, he felt the way you feel after you’ve
seen the same commercial too many times, that feeling of “Oh, I
know what is going to happen next, but my brain is too dead to
care.” Ho hum, he thought. But he knew that you had to dance at
least three dances with a woman before you could seduce her, so
he tolerated it.

The second dance was even more boring than the first. The music
switched from rock to reggae, but her dancing hardly changed at
all. He started counting beer cups in people hands, while he
danced, just for something to do. He had counted 112 by the time
the dance ended. “Great, only one more dance to go, he thought.”

The next dance was a slow dance. A lot of parties never put on
slow dances, but this one did, and Jack was very happy, because
he didn’t think he could take a third fast dance with her monoto-
nous rhythm.

He looked at her, when the slow music started, wondering if she
was ready for slow dancing. She had that same look in her eyes
that he had seen hundreds of times before, that look that says
“Go ahead, put your arms around me and start dancing. Have I got
something better to do?” So he did. And her rhythm was defi-
nitely different this time, finally. Now, she basically just
stood there, kind of wobbling back and forth a little. And now
he realized how much he hated slow songs, because they just went
on, and on. It was a slow love song, just like so many love
songs he had heard before. This one was worse than many, howev-
er, because it was one of the ones that was currently getting too
much play on the radio.

Finally, the song ended, and, holding her hand, he led her off
the dance floor. He tried to think of a clever line, but then
decided he didn’t need one. “Hey, what’s your name?” he asked.

“I’m Jill,” she said.

“Yah, and I’m Jack.” They would have laughed, but both of them
had heard so many Jack and Jill jokes in their lives, that nei-
ther even found this real life coincidence at all funny.

‘So, I bet now he’s going to ask me to go for a walk with him.
Why do guys always use the same lines?’ she thought to herself.

“So, Jill, want to go for a walk? It’s a beautiful evening.”

‘Well,’ she thought, ‘at least a walk will be more fun than this
party. I wonder why all parties seem alike? The only thing
which wasn’t totally average about this party was the slow dance,
and I don’t even like to slow dance.’ “Sure,” she said, “where
are we going to walk to? Your place, I suppose, right?” She’d
been asked on too many walks not to already know the destination.

“Yah,” he said.

Now that she was pretty sure he wanted to seduce her, she decided
to appraise him. 5′ 9″, brown hair, brown eyes, not particularly
athletic or well dressed; but no body odor, no zits, and his hair
was combed. She would take what she could get. “Let’s go.”

The walk to Jack’s place was too long. The party had been at one
of the river houses, but both Jack and Jill lived in the Quad,
away from the main campus. They had gone up to the river houses
because, as usual, the quad was dead that weekend: only one
party, and it was lame. They walked up Garden Street, back to
Currier House. It was a walk both of them took every day, at
least twice a day, and both of them found it pretty wearying by
now. They went through the standard conversation about majors,
year of graduation, etc. but neither was really paying atten-
tion; they had asked and answered the questions so many times
before.

When they got back to Jack’s room, Jill was not very impressed.
Currier was one of the newer, more modern dormitories, and all of
the rooms were pretty similar. Jack had not done much to distin-
guish his.

“So,” Jill said, “how do you usually seduce women?” She was
feeling very direct.

“Usually, I try something with backrubs, but the last ten women
I’ve seduced, I’ve given backrubs, and I’m tired of it What do
guys usually try on you?”

“They usually ask me if I want a backrub,” she said.

There was what would have been an awkward pause, if either of
them had really cared. Jack tried to think of something more
interesting than a back rub He considered nude twister, but
wasn’t quite sure how someone would go about playing that exact-
ly, without a third person to spin the spinner. He thought about
getting out his copy of the 5000 question purity test, but found
himself falling asleep at just the thought.

Finally, he said “Want a back rub?”

“Sure,” she said, lying down on his bed.

Slowly, he massaged her back, through her shirt. After about ten
minutes, her shirt started to ride up, intentionally, and he
began to actually massage her skin directly. Eventually, he
began massaging around her bra strap, and then clumsily unsnapped
it.

‘Thank God,’ she thought. It was taking forever. He gave an
average backrub, but she had never really been into back rubs
anyway. Eventually, his hands went lower and lower, and he was
touching the sides of her breasts, and then the front, and then
the nipples. ‘Pretty predictable,’ she thought.

Finally, she turned over, and they began kissing, and undressing.
She had a mediocre body, too much flab, but so did he. Neither
of them became particularly passionate, but both found the caressing vaguely enjoyable.

Slowly, his hand worked its way down to her vagina, and it was,
of course, slightly moist. He fingered her and sucked her tits
for a few minutes. Then, foreplay out of the way, he put on a
condom, and they had sex in the missionary position. He wasn’t
very good, not giving enough clitoral stimulation. She decided
to just lie back, and think of England. She had never been
there, so there wasn’t very much to think about, but it was more
interesting than the half hearted attempts of Jack, lying on top
of her. Eventually, Jack sped up his pumping. Faster and fast-
er. ‘Great,’ she thought, ‘he’s almost finished.’ When he came,
spurting into the condom for a few seconds, she faked her orgasm.
He wasn’t fooled by her faking, but he didn’t really care.

My depression prevented me from having a social life for a long time;
I didn’t feel at all like being with other people, rather be a hermit
isolated in the ivory tower of my dorm room, working my butt off.

I was wise enough not to try to suffocate my depression with a load of
alcohol or other drugs, I was too clever to cheat myself like that. I
used marijuana every now and then to enhance positive vibes, but from
experience I knew it wouldn’t cover up depression.

Finally I got fed up with suppressing my sexuality for so long. I’ve
always been a very sexual being, but before I reformed my character to
get rid of shyness and meekness I didn’t have much action. The
relationship with the career woman was tailor-made for me; she didn’t
want to bother with formalities such as marriage, but she was damn
good company both in bed and outside bedroom, as well physically as
intellectually. So you can imagine how hard it was to return to
masturbation!

So, on Saturday night I started getting myself in gear. I’ve received
some compliments for my appearance, although it is fairly moderate in
my opinion. Having a longish, dark hair makes me shine through the
masses of conservative-looking students that populate the computer
science department. That draws some fascinated looks from the few
technically inclined ladies, but I don’t care about them – mostly they
are just as much nerds as the guys.

Since I’ve been fascinated by the sixties’ – early seventies’ music,
I’ve guided my wardrobe accordingly. For the evening I wore a
turquoise silk shirt with ornamental patterns and the bellbottom jeans
I finally had managed to find in a second-hand store. As I put a
necklace with a largish copper ankh, ornamented with runes, around my
neck I was feeling HOT!

In the city I was delightfully aware of the wondering, admiring and
violently disapproving looks I received. Every face that looked at me
gave me little electric vibes. One of the little hobbies I have liked
the most is to look intensely back if someone glances at you and then
observe the reaction, especially when girls are concerned!

At the entrance of my regular club I saw her, just going in. She was a
strange mixture; she looked innocent, yet very sensual; immaculate,
yet eager to learn new ways of sinning; the good girl, yet willing to
be a desirous beast!

I decided to take it slowly and observe her from a distance; the
evening was young and there was no need to rush, unless someone else
decided to have a go at her, but I would break that up with
ruthlessness I have discovered myself to be capable of when I want it.

The club was good: they played music loud and fast. Speedmetal
followed by techno followed by classics from Hendrix was a perfect
audio cocktail for me. I like to dance – although I lack some at the
skill department I make it up with aggresiveness and force that was in
harmony with the music. If there’s enough force no one cares if you
miss a beat sometimes. When they finally played the Doors I had the
scene almost all to myself; I accelerated myself into a shamanistic
performance in the middle of the dance floor. When the music stopped I
was exhausted for a while but felt great pleasure from my dance and
the fact that I had certainly been the focus of attention.

As I moved to the bar to have a nice, cool beer I noticed that the
girl I saw before actually followed me! I turned around. – Hi, having
any fun? I asked. – Sure! You certainly pulled an act over there,
shit, for a while I thought I saw a reincarnation of Jim Morrison in
the nineties!

I was surprised. I knew that especially if I dressed right I looked a
bit Morrisonesque, but that a girl who had barely crossed the 18 year
limit knew something about him, that was a surprise. – Thanks! Let me
buy you a beer for that, ok? Then you can tell me what you know about
that particular demigod while I can stare at your beautiful eyes. She
blushed a bit but recovered with a tiny laughter. – Hey, why not…

So, we started talking. I was being a bit too straightforward to be
polite, but she enjoyed it and adapted her style to match mine, and I
loved every second of it.

She was interesting. I’ve never liked dumb chicks, and she was
definedly intellectual. I found out that she was a freshman at the
university, came from a small country town and was a bit puzzled over
the new things around her. So that’s why she looked so innocent, a
country girl… but she seemed very eager and ready to see how she can
deal with anything that comes her way.

When we came to talk about art, I revealed that some months ago I had
been so fascinated with the Giger’s demonic and erotic art that I did
some sketches of my own. – I want to see them – right now! That was a
surprise. – Huh? – C’mon, you don’t resist a crazy idea every now and
then, do you? – No! Ok, let’s go…

We walked to the bus station. I put my arm on her shoulders and
squeezed her a bit teasingly. She responed by pressing her lips
…End of the part1. To be continued..

Deb looked classy — I liked her tightly creased pants and high
heels. Her short, light brown hair had blond highlights and
swept over the top of her head. She wore dark glasses that
framed her piercing brown eyes. Her lips were shiny with
lipstick and when I saw the stain on her beer glass I thought
about what it would be like to have a similar stain around my
cock. Her small mouth seemed barely big enough to fit around my
generous member — but I wanted the chance to see.

She was keeping up with me in beers and since I was starting to
feel pretty good, I knew that she had to be as well. We talked
about dope. “I haven’t been stoned in years,” she said. I
invited her out to my Jeep for a smoke and she agreed.

We tuned up and talked. “God, I’m horny,” she blurted. No need
to tell me twice — I leaned over and kissed her. We sat kissing
for several minutes, then she rested her hand on the inside of my
thigh. My hardening cock was only a couple inches away. She
moved her hand up and rest it gently on my dick. It wasted no
time in getting hard as rock; “you’re hung like a horse!” Deb
exclaimed as she ran her hand over my masterpiece. “Take a
look”, I offered as I unzipped my pants and pulled them to my
knees. My rockhard shaft bounced free and pointed straight up.

Deb bent over and put the head of my cock into her small mouth.
I could see her cheeks expand as she worked more of the shaft in.
She lathered up the head with her spit and went to work on me. I
leaned back and relaxed, watching Deb’s head bob and parry on my
engorged penis. My orgasm came quickly under her expert suck;
“I’m cuming!” I groaned. She moaned something and put in the
little extra effort necessary to bring me off. My hips thrust
forward as I popped into Deb’s mouth. She continued her up and
down motions as my balls burst forth their nectar deep into her
mouth. When she withdrew my cock, its shaft was gooey with my
spunk.
—

You stand out on the porch in front of your remote farmhouse,
wondering how long it will be before the lights are restored, banishing
the night again for a bit. A quick breeze toys with your hair and your
skirt. You shiver slightly at the chill running down your spine, and
cross your arms over your breasts.

Off in the distance, now, you see the headlights of an approaching
car. You feel the tension creep over you as the driver picks his way
down the poorly-maintained road that leads nowhere but to you. Alone
tonight, your retired parents in town for dinner with friends, where
they will spend the night, and you are aware of your vulnerability.

A low roll of thunder distracts you, as it crawls over you slowly,
reminding you of the incredible power of nature’s display, making its
way across the flat countryside in the night.

You can hear the car’s engine now. It purrs quietly, revealing a
pent-up power that provides a counterpoint to the uncontrolled energy of
the storm on the horizon. A flash of lightning illuminates the vehicle,
and you note that it is a fine European make, black as the night, with
nobody within but the driver, whose features you cannot yet make out.

Turning the final corner, the car stops in front of you, the engine
goes silent, and the lights go dark. You hear the door open and another
flash of lightning lets you at last see the stranger’s face. Something
inside you cries out, and you feel your knees go to jelly at the sight.
He is everything that has ever attracted you — finely-styled black
hair, a proud but not arrogant face, piercing grey eyes. Eyes that are
directed straight at you, and which you can feel boring through you,
even in that scant instant of light.

Footsteps in the gravel. A rich, low voice, “Hello, miss. Could
you help me, please?” You feel a fluttering in your gut at the sound,
and your throat seems constricted as hard as a rock.

“Sure, uhm, what do you need?” you finally force out. You feel the
porch move slightly as he pulls himself up the stairs by the hand rail.
His footsteps on the plain decking of the porch are hard, rapping, and
you want them to come closer to you.

“I am lost. Between the storm and the map that I have, I took a
bad turn a while back and now have no idea at all where I am.” His
speech carries a faint, aristocratic accent. Still the fluttering
inside you continues, and you can see his shadowy outline against the
blackness beyond the house.

“Oh, okay… Come on inside. I’ve got a map.” You turn and open
the door, going into the house. It is even darker in here, if that were
possible, and he hesitates at the doorway.

“Can you turn on a light?”

“Oh — sorry. The storm knocked out the lights. I think I’ve got
a flashlight around here someplace. Okay?”

“Sure. I’ll wait here. Don’t want to trip over a lamp or
whatever, you know.” You can practically hear his smile.

“Yeah, uhm, I’ll be right back.” You make your way into the
kitchen, where the flashlight is kept in a drawer. Turning it on, you
retrace your steps, squinting slightly in the relative brightness of the
beam.

As you return to the front room, he advances into the house and
closes the door behind him. “Much better,” he says approvingly. “Now I
can see.” His eyes are drinking you in, and you feel a quiver pass
through you, wondering at the true meaning of his words.

Setting the flashlight down on the coffee table, you pull open the
drawer in the end table to retrieve the promised map. “Here, have a
seat,” you say, motioning at the sofa. You sit beside him and spread
the map before you.

This close to him, you can smell the sharp tang of his aftershave
and feel the warmth emanating from him. You point out some landmarks to
him on the map.

“Ah, yes, I see now. I went wrong here,” he says, and points at a
highway intersection miles away.

“And you’re here, now,” you say. A startlingly brilliant flash of
lightning makes you jump, and the instant reply of thunder booms between
your ears with a voice of unstoppable strength. You hear sheets of rain
hit the house almost immediately.

Recovering, you point out the place on the map to him again. Your
finger is trembling, and you look at him. He is smiling at your
reaction to the storm. “Caught me by surprise,” you say, returning the
smile.

“Same here. Well, I suppose I should be off now. Thank you very
much…”
…End of the part1. To be continued..

You and I are at a dinner party
there are four other people there
they are friends
we are sitting next to each other at the table
our fingers are entwined
we hold hands for a few moments
then i move my hand to your thigh
i gentlely stroke it
i start to pull your skirt up your leg
…End of the part1. To be continued..

running a close second for the VP slot against Brenda, but had managed to slip

past her by anonymously leaking false information about BJ thru the companies

computer system. Brenda was never sure where the rumors started but had a very

good idea.

Once Karen had taken her position still fearing Brenda’s superior talent, she

proceeded to “in effect” demote her by making her the department head over a much

smaller department. This move infuriated Brenda and revenge was all she could

think about. Months went by before her chance would come, then one day as if a

miracle she was in Karen’s office when Karen had to leave the office quickly and

failed to log off her computer it was the chance BJ had waited for. She quickly

determined Karen’s password from the careless notes left unprotected on her

messages and then she noticed the “anonymous” memos with Brenda’s name on them.

It had been Karen in fact that had stared the false rumors. Karen would live to

regret both mistakes.

The company was doing much work with the 3rd world, in a small country, Bariwa,

with much mineral potential. They were working on a financing plan to exploit

these for the good of the country. BJ finally had her chance to be rid of Karen

forever. As it turns out the project was in almost absolute control of Karen and

since BJ had access to all her files she could interfere with the project.

Brenda formulated her plan and began putting it into action.

Bariwa was depositing large sum of gold with the company in exchange for cash

which Karen was to invest on behalf of the Bariwanian government. BJ began

intercepting the transfer requests from Karen and making them herself. Using

Karen’s ID and password she opened a money market account with her firm and

stared stripping 5% of all transfers Karen requested and depositing it in

“Karens’s” account. Within a month “Karen” had embesseled 3.5 million dollars.

The trap was set….

The following Monday Karen left for Bariwa and BJ left for Western Union. She

had updated all of Karen’s real computer records with her transaction and booked

a flight from Bariwa to Rio in Karen’s name, conviently one day after Karen’s

scheduled return. The wire was to the Bariwanian finance minister and outlined

suspicious activity that the sender felt was not in the best interest of Bariwa,

with enough details to point the inquiries in the right direction, signed

“Anonymous”.

Just as planed the minister made inquiries that very day to the company

president’s office and Karen’s “plot” was uncovered. The company quickly

complied with requests for records in an effort to retain their business. And

still Karen had no idea the snare was about to be triggered as she visited with

several government officials in Bariwa. On her final official visit she was to

see the finance minister and arrived in a limo at the capital early in the

morning. She would not have a good day. She noticed on her way in that security

seemed very tight. There were four armed guards in the ministers waiting room,

all very large men with frowns on their faces but she did not worry. When she

…End of the part1. To be continued..

“How have you been Greg?”
“Fine, and yourself?”
“Not bad, how’s study?”
“Ok, I’m dreading the exam results though…”
“Yes, me too.”
“I feel bad about one especially.”
“Oh, which one?”
“I think I’m gonna fail…” I started to cry. This was my final year
and I didn’t want to repeat any more topics.

I wasn’t crying that much, when I said: “I need some reasurance…”
and with a doubting voice added: “could you hold me for a while?”
“Sure.”
And over she came and sat down becide me. She put her arms
around me and we cuddled for a moment. It make me feel better.

Now, I am really attracted to Karen. She is really what I’m looking
for in a woman. Blonde hair, blue eyes, and a gorgeous figure with
shapely hips. She was fit too. I bet those hips could really put
out. And she has joked about that in the past as well, though not
as crudely as I have just put it.

I was assured in less than 2 seconds of her saying “sure”. The hug
sort of turned me on. I had a hardon.

As we broke, she placed her hand on my pants to get balance and felt
something.

“Oo, what’s that?”
“Oh, sorry Karen, you gave me an erection with that hug.” I was
embarrased as hell.

“Can I see?”
“What the…” Now, I was shocked!! Karen has never mentioned this
sort of thing to me in the past. In fact, she cringes at the sight
of a males’ private parts saying that they spoil the illusion (she
attends Man Power night’s every chance she gets).

“Come on… show me.”
“Ok, ok, hang on.”

I couldn’t believe what I was doing, but I unziped my fly anyway.

Out it came. Just a little droopy, but still in good condition.
Before i could lift my head to look at her face, she dove for it!
I removed my hand from the base, and she swolled it whole.

“Jesus, what is she doing” I thought. “God, Greg, just go with the
flow, after all, it’s what you’ve always wanted, right?”

She put pressure on my penis and began to move her head up and down.
Down and up she went. Her toungue giving it a good lashing. She
removed her head and gave it a good pull with a tight grip. Oh, how
I wanted to fuck her badly. She then coated it with saliva and I was
reaching the point of no return. Faster and faser she moved her head.
I groaned and groaned. I was about to come when she lifted her head
and I came all over my stomach. Streams and streams came out, like I
have never seen before.

“Why did you do that?”
“No reason. I just did.”
“Shit, now I’ll have to wash it off. Can I use your shower please, it
went everywhere?”
“Sure, go right ahead.”

She had a smug look on her face as I took off my jumper and T-shirt.
I removed my shoes carefully not alowing any cum to get on my clean
jeans. I took off my jeans as I walked into the kitchen and on to the
bathroom. I turned on the shower and removed my undies.

“Jesus, what a mess. God, why couldn’t she have done this properly?”

The water washed the cum easily away.

“Karen, I’m just gonna take a proper shower, ok?”
“Ok” she said, her voice seamed like she was close.

I washed my hair and started on my lower body. Legs, arms, chest. There,
done. The hot water had made me horny again, but I remembered what
happened the last time, so it was fading.

“Oh, not again” I said.
“What?” cried Karen as she flung back the shower curtain fully naked.
Before I could answer, she was in the shower and had pushed me up
against the back wall. She lowered her body just a few inches and held
my dick up and pushed her stomach against it, rubbing a little. I
embraced her, knowing what would come next. She put her arms around
my neck and locked her legs around my waist still holding her stomach
tight against mine with my throbing cock between us. We kissed. I
moved the shower rose towards us, kepping the heat up and then I
turned around and pushed her up aginst the wall. I moved down and
rubbed my dick up and down her slowly. This continued for a few
minutes, then I said: “It’s time, I want to fuck you.” She nodded,
“I’m ready, fuck me now.”

I entered her. I could feel the satisfaction building. She maoned,
I groaned. We wanted more.

I decided on a better, more natural and comfortable position. After
all, the shower was a bit awkard. I thought of the bath tub. But
that was really small and I was a big boy as I thrusted once more.
“Quickly, the mat!” I exclaimed. Still inside her, we moved outside
of the shower, her legs still holding firm. I gently layed us down,
and we continued. She released her legs and arms and grabbed hold
of the corner of the bath with her right arm and the wash basin
drain pipe with her left. Her legs we flat on the floor and spread
apart. I wanted to fuck her right over to the other side of the house,
but she held firm. Thrust after thrust, I could feel the sperm bulding.
Finally, I unleashed my load into her continuing for a long as I could
afterwards. She orgasmed just after I did. Oh, that did feel good.
I’ve been wanting to do something like that to Karen for ages. Finally,
I had my reward, for it was fantastic.

We steped into the shower to wash the sweat off. Towelled off, and went
into the lounge where the gas space heater had been turned on.
We sat in the lounge facing the TV as I did before and she layed in
my arms. I was in heaven.

We fell asleep for almost 2 hours, not suprising after the sensious
exercise before hand. I awoke with a smile on my face and a hard no
on my dick. She could feel it too as she was resting her head on my
lower stomach. She must have seen it through the gap in the
shower robe I was wearing, after all, it was her’s.

She reached out for it and grabbed it. She then got up and led me to
middle of the floor about 6 feet from the heater, but still on the rug.
“Again!” she said, “I want to do it again.”
Without ANY hesitation I replied, “Yes!!”.
She let go and I undid my robe. She did the same, but erotically.
Under the robe, she moved one knee infront of the other and tilted her
hips. She put her hands on her hips and let the robe drop slowly.
“I don’t deserve this” I said to myself, by my man hood had other ideas.

She then kicked the robe back out of the way and dropped to the floor.
She got up on all fours and turned aound, exposing her arse to me.
Boy, this was a great arse, a little bigger than ususal, but I didn’t
care, more to hang onto.

I dropped to the floor onto all fours as well. I doggied on over to
her and came up slowly from behind. Her back arched with my intensions.
I stuck my toungue out and proceeded to lick her from the top of her
crack, all along her spine, to the nape of her neck. She shivered.
My cock grew harder with every lick, as when I neared her neck, it touched
her arse, but I didn’t want to go there, just a little lower was my
intension.

I moved my toungue toward her left breast. Then, back up and over to the
other. She shivered even more. So did I with anticipation.

It was time. I drew my toungue back and as I straightened up, I slid my
hands along side her body, from her breasts along her rib cage towards her
hips and finally to her arse. I then rubbed it in a clockwise direction
once, and proceeded to guide my cock into her wet pusy.

I held her hips and gently slid it in. Not all the way, we had to get
used to the new position. Out and in, in and out, slowly, until we had
the motion down pat. Then I stepped up the motion. Faster and faster I
thrusted into her cunt. Using my hands to really work her thighs up
against mine. The pounding of flesh really turned us on. We could have
done this for ages. Finally, mutual orgasm was iminient. We both
cummed like we never cummed before. Still fighting for pleasure, I,
again, continued for as long as I could, giving as much pleasure to my
partner as possible. I think I succeded. The pace eased and we broke.

newsgroups — nothing he couldn’t have finished with three hours before.

“Yeah — well — there was something I needed to deal with.” He doesn’t even look

up, but continues scrolling through the latest figures. “Were we going anywhere

tonight?”

I can tell by the attitude that he has no intention of moving for a while yet.

Fine. Something needs to happen. So I make it happen. “Are we the last ones left

in here?”

“Yeah”

Right.

Shoes.

Shirt

Jeans

Bra — onto the keyboard in front of him (underwired). He finally looks

up, notices what state I’m in.

“Oh. Staying a while, are we?”

“What exactly did you have in mind?”

“That’s up to you, isn’t it? I mean, you’re the one with the ever-so-important

work.” It’s really hard to keep the voice to irony-level. “Got anything

interesting off the newsgroups?”

“Just the Tommy Lee and Pamela vids.” He leads me out to the reception area,

where a high-edged desk faces the glass front, protecting the occupant from

ill-timed glances. There, under cover of the desk, he fires up the PC and loads

those videos.

And watches. And watches. And watches. Hmmm — not funny any more. “So, do you

like what she’s doing to him?”

“Oh, it looks all right.”

“Would you like me to do that to you?” And I go down to my knees and undo his

jeans. His cock, half erect already, is trying to escape the boxer shorts, so the

least I can do is encourage it with my lips. And tongue. And I gently send the

tip of that same tongue all along the bottom of it, tracing the ridge from the

base past the coarse hairs to the tip, and start coaxing a response by licking

small tender licks around the head as it rears and presents itself for further

…End of the part1. To be continued..

Except in your dreams, fantasies, and fevered imaginings said my traitorous mind. Even now I got wet just thinking of her, and I felt a wild stab of jealousy at the momentary vision that confronted me: Tennisball Turner kneels naked at the left of a chair. Her distinctive blonde bob has been shaved, as has every inch of the rest of her, although her head has still a single long braid, almost a pigtail, rising from the top. Leather in blue and orange decorates each wrist, each ankle, and her throat. Her hands are locked together behind her in a single sleeve, almost elbow-to-elbow. She’s bound by several short chains into a painful backward arc in a framework upon which two candles are mounted. The candles are positioned so that every few seconds a big drop of hot wax drips onto each of her breasts. When this happens, sharp moans escape her stretched lips and the reading light suspended on a pole, which is shoved into her mouth, jiggles. A hand slaps her wax-splattered right tit, cracking off a large chunk of cooled red wax. “Be quite still, darling,” says the raven-haired Asian in the chair “Mummy’s going to beat you in a minute or so, and if the light keeps moving about it’ll take me longer to read this chapter,” her face hardens and her nostrils flare as she looks down at the helpless slave girl over her glasses “and you wouldn’t like that at all.”

In the tobacco-smelling little office, I checked my watch-fifteen minutes. I closed the door silently. My nipples were hard. I lifted my skirt and rubbed two fingers across my pussy, then touched them to my lips. It reminded me of being kissed by my slave just after she’d eaten me out satisfactorily; a taste like honey and jasmine, with a little hint of bitter lemon rind. I pinched one of my hard nipples through the fabric of my sweater and bra. My clit responded with a tingle. I sat back in the scuffed red leather chair and teased myself, running my finger slowly up my thigh. My mind took me back into the fantasy-only instead of the handsome Asian woman, it was me in the chair.

“I don’t have long, piggy, so get that tongue of yours to work.” In this fantasy her blonde hair is all there, although her pussy has been trimmed to a tiny ‘landing strip’ of fur. She’s wearing nipple clamps hung with two ounces of weight on each side. Her flesh is cruelly marked with red stripes. She displeased me yesterday, although I forget quite what it was. . . Oh but that slutty little tongue of hers! She’s really getting into her work. It makes her happy and wet to please me. Not that wetness does her any good. Her cunt is freshly sealed shut, pierced and padlocked only a few weeks ago, and as for her ass-well that’s currently occupied by a “triple ripple” butt plug which I’ve been training her to enjoy. I ease my haunches forward on the chair, presenting myself to her mouth. If her hands weren’t locked tightly to her collar she’d be fingering me and I’d have cum already. As it is, her tongue flicks my ass and pussy in that rhythm that pushes me over the edge. . . Voices; Outside; Shit! I stopped flicking my clit as the fire inside me banked, then died down. The window in the office door lit up as someone flicked the switch outside. Composing myself I quickly stood up, tucking my blouse back in, smoothing my rumpled skirt, and pulling up my damp panties. Taking a deep breath I glanced in the mirror on the end of the wall shelves. Slightly flushed, but nothing out of the ordinary for a first-day teacher. I sniffed surreptitiously-I always think that my smell gives me away when I’m horny. Not having deodorant with me, I anxiously sprayed a good bit of a can of “Air-Way Smoke-Out”, thoughtfully left by the previous occupant of the room for such emergencies-or maybe not, into the air and walked up and down beneath the hazy cloud.

I opened the door and stepped out into room 108 to find a small group of kids slowly getting bigger as students trickled in. These were grade 10’s-a particularly tough group for a new teacher. They’d seen it all, and were planning to do most of it; or egg someone else into doing it, possibly on video. Grade 10’s are testing adult wings that don’t quite fit yet. They’re ready to fly on their own, mostly, and resent interference, but you can’t quite leave them alone to figure it all out. So you have to be totally available and totally disinterested at the same time.

They stared when I came into the room, and I was conscious of the sudden silence. They could tell from my clothes that I wasn’t a student, but surely this chick was too. . .what? Too young, too . . . put together, for a teacher. I could almost feel the girls narrowing their eyes as I walked to the big desk up front.

I was a bit nonplussed at the attention, especially from male members of the class. After all, I’d spent several hours taking care that my clothes were appropriate for a teacher. They were supposed to be stylish but plain. My heels (a personal conceit-teachers were supposed to wear flats for insurance reasons) were only two inches high. My stockings were plain and dark with a seam up the back; being old-fashioned about underwear I held them up with a garter belt. My skirt was grey and pleated, but respectably knee-length, although it had a disturbing tendency to flare outward a bit. I wore a high-necked blouse with pearl buttons, trimmed with lace at the throat and wrists, with a simple short jacket over all, and my long dark brown hair had been pinned within an inch of its life into a bun. I didn’t realise until I was told, much later, how plain dressing can make a woman sexier than sheer stark nakedness.

The boys in the class shifted uncomfortably in their seats as I turned around and wrote my name on the board: Miss Flock. I’d expected some whispered comments about my last name, but a girl named Althea Flock either gets used to it or changes her name to Karen Smith. But the question I got asked wasn’t quite what I was expecting:

“Hey,” said a boy in the second row “what do we call you?” “I’m Miss Flock” I told him. He had on jeans that puddled around his ankles, a t-shirt with a big green marijuana leaf on it, and a red ball cap turned sideways. “Nah,” he said “what’s your first name?” I was a bit stunned, and reacted from pure instinct. “I don’t have one as far as you’re concerned Mister . .?” “Fisher,” he said “Jerry Fisher-but everybody calls me Fish.” His mouth was open, and his hair hung over his eyes beneath the brim of his cap. “I’m not everybody, so I’ll call you Mister Fisher,” I answered “and take off that hat, please.” I think it was only surprise that made him do it.

People think teachers haven’t got ears. Students will talk, even while other teachers are present, and they don’t seem to understand how much of what they talk about makes it back to the staff room. During my first year I gained a reputation as a fierce disciplinarian, but a parallel reputation for being fair and for working things through. I didn’t hesitate to give detentions, which surprised and appalled a lot of parents and brought me into a lot of conflict both with them and with the school administration. But I stood my ground, sacrificed my time, and gradually the parents came to know me as the teacher who could get the best work out of their kids. Almost all their kids.

For my part, I settled into school life like I’d been born to it, and for five years I taught high school English and History. I was satisfied and doing useful work. Eventually I got used to the loneliness too.

It wasn’t that I didn’t get offers. In the first couple of years every straight male teacher (and one I wasn’t certain about) and a couple of the gay female ones made me offers. I always felt awkward turning them down. My fling with Tennisball and the discomfort of sharing classes with her after it all came apart (after I broke it apart), or of seeing her around and the misery it brought on, were still pretty fresh to me. I cautiously accepted a few invitations, had second dates with a few men; turned down all the women.

It wasn’t that I was “denying my gay self” or something. I just didn’t feel anything for them. It was that “plain toast, no jam” feeling. Not that I got anything much from dating the few men I spent time with. I took a couple of them home; actually saw one man for several months. We had sex, and it was terrific overall, but eventually the whole relationship came down to sex. There wasn’t anything else. So I thanked him and said goodbye. It wasn’t quite that simple-I wound up sleeping with him occasionally for nearly a year before I decided it was doing me more harm than good.

Once again I said goodbye, and once again he was nice about it. We talked by phone occasionally, but I wasn’t very encouraging, and eventually the phone went silent too. I spent a lot of time working out or reading, and slowly got used to being alone. Then something happened that made my tiny flickering flame roar up and consume me.

At the beginning of the fifth year I worked at the school, I arrived early, masturbated quickly (it had become something of a habit), and walked into the classroom from my little office, which smelt less like smoke and more like sandalwood nowadays.

The new students, a grade 12 History class, were grouped around the room in the usual dribs and drabs. I’d had some of them in prior years. Clearly they’d told their friends about me, because as soon as I arrived there was a bit of a scramble to take seats. I felt the eyes crawling up my legs to my ass, then to my back as I strolled up the row, heels clicking. I deliberately put a slow wiggle in my walk-it would be useless for me to pretend any longer that I didn’t enjoy the looks I always got on the first day. At the front of the room, I wrote my name on the board and turned to face them.

“Good morning,” I began “I’m Miss Flock. It seems like you already know my general rules. I expect you to behave professionally towards me, just as I will towards you. I’m going to get your names from you now.”

The front row consisted of Jeff McWhirter, a skinny boy in a ratty t-shirt and glasses. I noted the shirt and made a mental check to remind him of the both the school’s dress code and my class dress code, which was somewhat stricter. Next to Jeff was Linda Long, who vaguely reminded me of a spaniel puppy. Beside her was Calvin Chung, a thin Chinese boy I guessed was both bright and gay, as was the long scarf he wore. The fourth seat was vacant.

Like most teachers and preachers, I hate vacant seats at the front. I looked over the room of blonde and brunette heads to the very back. I caught a glimpse of swirling black hair with a single blue streak, pale bare shoulders, and the distinctive “T” of a g-string visible above the waistband of a pair of “Sho-T” brand jeans (the hot brand for teen no-longer-wannabe-virgins that year). The owner was seated, leaning into the aisle as she rummaged in an oversized canvas book bag.

“Excuse me,” I said, pointing “Yes, you. What’s your name please?” There was a mumble. “I beg your pardon?” I said. “Sue.” “Sue who?” I heard a solitary giggle from somewhere.

The girl I’d addressed stood up, hips cocked and head tilted in that gesture that makes teenage girls look like 40-year-old hookers. Her g-string arced over her pretty hips under a half-shirt with no bra that I could see. And I was looking. God was I looking!

Have you ever heard the expression “wide-on”? It’s the female equivalent of a rampaging hard-on. But that was what I was experiencing. Deep in my mind something said Oh-oh. But my little lizard brain was raving Bite her! Catch her! Eat her up! FUCK her! My nipples were hard under my jacket, and I think anyone three feet away could have smelt my arousal.

“Sue” was what my mother would have called gammon: short and slim with wavy black hair that hid her face. Later on in the term, when I actually got to see her face, it was pixie-like, freckled and mischievous, and never far from a predatory grin. At the moment she stood with an old, old “fuck you” expression behind that hair. Her eyes sparkled with a happy malevolence.

“I’d like you to move up to the front desk, Miss. . .” I groped.

She didn’t rescue me. In my flustered embarrassment I glanced at the class list before me. It swam into focus, and after what seemed like an eternity but took only a few long seconds (which is plenty long enough if a class thinks you’ve lost the upper hand) I spotted the name “Castle, Susan”.

“. . . Castle.” I almost gasped. My eyes were swimming, and the blood pounded in my veins. I fought hard for control. I was a professional, damn it! In an effort to regain a measure of self-discipline I looked at her visible panties.

“Are you aware of the school dress code, Miss Castle?” Another mumble; more-or-less affirmative. “Speak up please.” Another mumble. “I still,” I said through gritted teeth “Can’t hear you. Shall we try once more for comprehensibility?” “I said yeah!” she nearly shouted “I know the stupid dress code!”

“Susan,” I said after the shocked pause which followed “I’d like you to take this seat here,” I pointed to the fourth seat in the front row “And I’ll see you this evening in detention.”

Her mouth, still largely hidden by hair, dropped open. “What’d I DO?” “You just said you knew the school dress code. Four B’s, right? No bellies, no boobs, no backs, no bums. Do I need to explain that you’ve violated at least three of those?”

There was scattered laughter. Susan stared at me with murder in her eyes. Then she flounced dramatically from the back of the room to the front. On the way she made very sure to brush past me closely, sure that I’d step away. But it wasn’t the first time a student had tried to physically intimidate me, and I stood firm.

Our hands brushed together. Just the briefest of touches; But she looked at me, into my eyes, and in that fraction of a second I felt an electricity pass through me. Oh no, Althea. I told myself sternly, this is poison-the worst and nastiest kind. As abruptly as it came on, the shock receded, and Sue Castle, whom I began to address as Ms. Castle from that day on, flopped into the vacant desk. I regained my composure, and finished calling the roll.

Over the first weeks of that year, Susan earned a number of detentions from me for violating the “4-B” dress code. Finally she settled into what became her uniform: Stirrup pants and an oversized sweater a la Marilyn Monroe-a look I thought was outdated, but which somehow made her even more of a sex-pot than her friends who were trying unsuccessfully to emulate teenage pop stars (while still covering the school minimum of flesh).

Susan had definitely begun discovering the benefits of being female in a crowd of hormone-crazed teen boys. She got respect from the jocks because she stood up to them, but hung out with the nerds, possibly making her the most popular girl in school. But her marks were atrocious, her conduct disrespectful, and she had serious discipline problems.

II wasn’t sure she was entirely unaware of the effect she had on me, either. When I told her to wait after class was dismissed she would deliberately stand too close to me, making me feel flustered and hot.

And horny. I was continually surprised and somehow angry at that. But damn it!-she was seventeen. Three years over the age of consent but nine years younger than me. And, I thought, she couldn’t possibly have any idea of the sort of things that crept into my head when she looked at me so insolently in class:

Susan Castle is standing outside my office door. She is wearing a thin, long cotton T-shirt and nothing else, as she has been instructed. Inside the office, I am waiting and wet. I slip the dildo into its harness, and then slide the free end into my pussy with a grunt. I tighten the buckles on the straps which cup my ass and hips. I always love the look of the dildo thrusting up from my crotch. Do men feel like this, I wonder? Apart from the dildo and its harness I am wearing a pair of stockings, a bustier, and opera-length gloves. The room has been prepared. Several candles flicker on the shelves, making my rubber cock cast shadows that would give old Sister Chang from high school nightmares. Hanging from assorted hooks along the wall behind my desk are some toys: A thick strap called a strapple, a piece of bamboo cane, a shiny pair of clamps (nipple or labia-oh no, the clothespins for naughty pussy lips are over there). Satisfied with the arrangements, I call out: “Enter”. I cross my arms and stand facing the door with my feet apart. The door swings open of its own accord. Susan enters with an old-fashioned candlestick. Her eyes are big, dark and a little fearful, riveted to the jutting phallus between my thighs. I melt inside, wanting to hold her to me and tell her its all going to be alright, that I’d never really hurt her. But I can’t-she needs to know that I am the one in control. Ordered to place the candlestick on the desk, Susan attempts to straighten up. But I have a gloved hand firmly in her hair. I push firmly downward. “You will enter this room only on your knees from now on, slave.” Obediently she kneels. I slap her face. “You will answer me with your little mouth,” such a tight little rosebud of a mouth-I want to kiss it. I want to pinch her lips with clothespins, I want to bite them “and what I will hear from that dirty little mouth will be ‘Yes Mistress’. Have you quite got that?” She almost nods for a minute. But eventually says: “Y-yes Mistress.” There’s no foreplay. “I’m going to fuck all your holes, right now, just to prove I can; to prove that you’re my property. Won’t that be nice?” “Yes M-Mmmmph!” as I drive the dildo between her lips. She resists for a moment, and I take a short sash cord from the desk and whip her vigorously. After about ten stripes have blossomed on her back and ass, to the accompaniment of shocked squeals, I feel the dildo fully inserted in her mouth. She’s looking up at me from my crotch, inquiringly. I fuck her mouth for a few strokes, then pull out. At my command she turns and presents her behind to me. I order her to put her head to the floor, tossing a textbook down so that she won’t risk wood burn. She almost wiggles in pleasure as I drive the first inch of the dildo into her cunt. But I stop almost as soon as I’ve begun, and she whimpers as I withdraw. “You cum without permission, slut, and I’ll whip you sixty times with the cane.” I hiss at her. An empty threat. She’s never been caned before, and her tender ass would bleed before I gave the tenth stroke. But she doesn’t know that. She also doesn’t know that I don’t know her anywhere near well enough to stop her from cumming if she started. But I rely on her honesty. I grab her ass firmly and spread her cheeks. Her puckered little asshole is porn-star clean, as I specified. Fingering a large dollop of lubricant into her hole, I begin intruding with the dildo. Her whimpering becomes moaning, then crying out. “If you want this to stop, all you need to do is use your safe word, slave.” She knows-but I have to be sure. As I seat the dildo inside her to the hilt, I feel the tension relax inside her as she opens up and admits her Mistress. I glory in the trust and triumph, and as the dildo slips in and out of both of us, I smack her ass triumphantly and start to cum. . . . See what I mean? What seventeen-year-old could possibly share that dream?
Susan settled into her seat, and for the entire term she never once raised her hand. If I called on her she’d either ignore me, looking out the window, or else she’d stare at me blankly. There wasn’t much I could do beyond give her another detention.

After her first report card, neither of her parents came to parent-teacher night. Since she was in great danger of failing, I took it upon myself to call her listed phone number. Receiving no reply, I attempted to contact her parents at work. At her father’s workplace number I was told that Mr. Castle was away at the moment and probably wouldn’t be back for several weeks. Her mother’s listed employer-the construction firm of Stonewall and Mason-told me that Mrs. Castle no longer worked for them. Intrigued, I pulled her file card at the office-technically a no-no but easily done if one knew the file clerk.

There were two listed addresses. The first was in a gated community at the top of the hill forty-five minutes from town. The security guard took my name and number, and then explained that he couldn’t let me in, as Mrs. Castle hadn’t left my name with him, but I could wait with him if I chose. Meantime, his eyes travelled hungrily up my legs to my neckline, but never got as high as my chin. I tried to give him a withering look, but I think he just thought I was squinting to read his badge number.

The second address was on what would normally be called the wrong side of town. It was a once-pretty single-storey wooden house, with a battered picket fence. Weeds and rusty swings languished in the backyard, complimented by more weeds and litter in the front. I would have thought it was an abandoned house except for the man coming out.

He wore a faded blue robe, and had a faded handsomeness himself. His feet were bare. He limped and had a thin black cigarette in his mouth and a clinking bag in his hand. He raised his head and no doubt caught me staring from my car, because he waved sardonically, then flipped me the bird. He dumped several bottles into the trash can at the side of the house, and went back in. I heard yelling.

I had put the car in gear when a dark mop of hair poked out the door, there was more yelling, and then the door of the house flew open, and Sue crossed the weedy yard at a run. I hammered the gas to the floor, and peeled out. It was guilt, of course. I had a semi-legitimate reason to be there, but at the same time, something told me that I didn’t want to be caught lurking around a student’s home.

But as I drove off, I looked in the rear view mirror. The figure standing on the sidewalk was just a silhouette in the late afternoon sun, its fists balled by its side. But that silhouette looked defeated, angry, hurt and unhappy. And I’m a teacher first. I put on the brakes and reversed toward her.

Sue slouched to the driver’s side, head down, not meeting my gaze. “He’s inside.” I was flustered for a moment. “Who’s inside, Miss Castle?” “My Dad. That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?”

Wasn’t it? I suddenly wasn’t sure I wanted to talk to Mr. Castle. Moreover, I wasn’t sure he’d care, that he’d understand the importance of what I needed to tell him-that the years between his daughter’s age and mine were important ones, and that those years could make a difference between his daughter being successful and happy, or . . . or not.

But it wasn’t her father, or her mother I really needed to talk to. I’d had conversations before with other students, even with Sue-although not with any results that I could see. Perhaps it was worth one last try. Even now I wonder whether I might have already been seeing the little signs of how my life and Sue’s were to change.

“Get in.” I said, swinging open my passenger door. Susan climbed in without asking where we were going. It crossed my mind that I could have been a kidnapper; a rapist; anyone, and she’d still climbed in. Then I almost laughed-goody-two-shoes Miss Flock, with her grey woollen skirts and her plain blouse and glasses-a rapist, and a lesbian rapist at that!

But my oh my-did I ever want to be!

Archive-title: Jenny

I had always liked Jenny, though I didn’t know her well personally. We

worked together on the night shift. Us night-timers have a slightly different

perspective on the world that most other people on ‘normal’ shifts. We’re often

driving on streets devoid of life at 3AM, and spend a lot of time at home

because nothing’s open. And then we sleep through the morning, when everybody

else is alive and awake. It’s a very lonely life most of the time.

Jenny suffered from this as much as I. She had come to town almost a year

ago, and because of her hours, she hadn’t had so much as one date in all that

time. Often she would grumble about the lack of a social/sex life. There were

plenty of guys on the night shift, but for some reason she didn’t seem

interested. More than a few of them were interested, though. She stood about 5

foot seven and was rather busty. She was a bit overweight, but not seriously

and I found it quite a turn-on. It made her seem more real, somehow. More than

once I had half-jokingly offered my services, only to be turned down with an

appreciative smile. I could never seem to work up the nerve to come out and ask

her for a date. Mostly it was because I was certain she’d turn me down and

rejection was something I didn’t really care for.

I don’t know what got into me one night. It was a Saturday and we both had

gotten roped into putting in a ‘little overtime’. If you consider 10 hours

‘little’. Anyway, it was about 9PM and we both sat down to lunch. Since there

was no one else there we actually talked to each other. Somehow the

conversation got around to dates, and I asked her just what it was she looked

for in a guy.

“Well,” she said musingly, “looks aren’t all that important, I guess. A good

personality is more important.” She was silent for a moment, thinking. “Right

now what I would like to find most is somebody who’s good in bed. After a year

of nothing I’m getting kind of, well, itchy.”

My heart gave a jump at that and my temperature rose ten degrees. I got up

to get a cup of coffee from the machine behind her. As I did, I said, “How do

you expect to find somebody like that? Advertise?”

She chuckled. “I can see it now: Lonely woman seeks good fucker. Low pay but

great fringe benefits.”

“Those benefits look pretty good to me.” I said, still standing behind her

and sipping my coffee. My heart had calmed, but I was still tense.

Anticipatory, perhaps. “But seriously, that’s what you’re looking for? Not just

any old guy who can get it up?”

“Uh uh.” She said softly, almost dreamily. “It would be tempting, but hell,

if the guy doesn’t know what he’s doing, it just isn’t really worthwhile. Not

for me, anyway. For him it’s probably great.”

The it was my turn to laugh. “Yeah, I guess so. Some guys are like that.

They just want to, um, get off and go to sleep. But there are some who are

different, ya know.”

“Oh, really?” she said, still seemingly in a trance.

“Sure.” I said. I put the cup down. “For some of us half the fun is in

making the other person feel good.” I placed my hands on her shoulders, though

…End of the part1. To be continued..

As I lay day dreaming on the beach, I suddenly and casually
glanced to my left, only to see the most gorgeous
girl I had ever seen. She looked up while I was surveying
her, and gave me a smile and a wink…I pulled my towel
over near hers, and then introduced myself. She
told me her name was Debbie, and we began talking…

After about 30 minutes of small-talk, she suddenly asked
me if I would rub some suntan lotion on her back. Trying to
hide my excitement, I agreed. She turned on her stomach,
and unstrapped her top. I began rubbing the lotion up
around her neck, and slowly worked my way down, . Her skin
was soft and sexy, and her tan was very dark. I found my
hands wandering off of her back, around towards her breasts,
but she gently guided them back to where they started,
whispering “LATER”..I continued down her sensuous back, until
I reached her ass. I leaned closer, staring at it in
awe. It was a piece of art. I longed to guide my cock in
between her buns, but I managed to resist. I jumped past
her gorgeous ass, down to her long, sexy legs. I took my
time there. Finally, I reached her feet. She wore purple
nail polish on her toes, and I was so horny that even this
began to turn me on. When I was completely done, she asked
me if I would go back to her beach house for some lunch.
I agreed, but lunch was not what I was hoping for!

When we got there, she asked if I would like to take a
shower first..I thought that she meant with her, but we ended
up taking separate showers…She made hamburgers for
lunch, and as we were eating, she began to run her toes up and
down my leg under the table. Then she lifted her foot as high
as my crotch, and started to gently rub my shaft with her toe
The two of us quickly swallowed what was left of lunch, and
she led me to her bedroom.. We both quickly stripped, and
she sank to her knees and began sucking my swelled rod.

She deep throated me, and I came. She swallowed with a
smile and lay down on the bed, motioning for me to eat
her pussy. I assure you that it was a very sweet and
juicy desert. Then we got into the 69 position, and enjoyed
one another at the same time. Finally, she pulled me
on top of her, and guided my rod into her hot, steaming
cunt. The rest of the day was spent making mattress magic.

–

justice I have to be a great deal more explicit that I would normally prefer. I

prefer to flirt, both with men and with the details of my adventures. It seems

much more appropriate to say I spent the night with someone than to say

specifically what we did. I will try to overcome this as I tell you what

happened. If I seem to be skirting something, you have to be willing to interrupt

me with questions. I may evade, but I will never lie. Anyway, with that in mind,

the story really begins on a Friday night a few months back. The Chief, my

affectionate name I gave my husband, had some friends over. I was getting in

late from a conference and it was clearly his party. I knew nearly everyone

there, but they were his friends. I came in about 10:00 that night. I’d slept

on the train, so I was still fairly fresh. There they all were in the dining

room, playing cards. The Chief gave me a big hug when I came in and carried my

suitcase up to the bedroom. I washed my face and slipped out of my travel

clothes into the kind of thing I normally hang around the house in, a shirt of

the Chief’s and tights (white and blue respectively.) I’d eaten so I just nibble

at the snacks and watched them play. I stood or sat behind the Chief and one or

two of the other players seemed to have trouble focusing on their cards. I’d been

behaving myself for the past few days and this tickled me. Thinking to myself,

It’s all in a good cause (the Chief’s winnings) I would stretch or walk around or

occasionally pick things up off of the floor. They seemed to enjoy it and I

certainly did. Around midnight about half of the crew left and when the game had

gotten down to 4 players, I sat in and became a fifth. They were betting quarters

mostly and I sat down with around $20 and began to play. I was about $5 ahead

when I began to lose steadily. One of the other players ran out of money and

left. That had been the pattern. When you ran out of the money you had on the

table, you were done. This gave the game a quality that the Chief described as

friendly. There were limits on how fast you could raise, there were limits on

the number of raises, and what they described as table stakes. No checks, no

I.O.U.s, no big debts. The game had gone on for a couple of years, losing very

few players and the ‘friendly’ atmosphere was probably responsible. So, here I am

down to about $5.00 and another player went bust and left. I’d lost about 8

hands in a row. I started trying to bet conservatively until I felt my luck

change. That helped me outlast one more player who also left. It was about 1:30

in Saturday morning now. I lost all but my last dollar betting on a full house of

Queens and fives. It seemed like a conservative, safe bet, but here I was down

to 4 quarters. One went into the pot for my ante and I picked up a pair of

kings. There were 2 quarters in raises to me which I covered and I found myself

looking at a third king and two aces in my draw. I bet the quarter I had left,

the Chief raised one quarter (He’d drawn three cards) and J, the other player

raised one. So, here I was with a winning hand and nothing left to bet. Or was

I really down to nothing. I grinned at J, moved my eyes to the Chief and somehow

or other managed to say with a straight face, I’ll cover the pot with my shirt if

I lose.

The Chief was drinking something as I said. How he managed to not spray it all

over the cards, I’ll never know. He was close to losing it. When I say losing

it, I mean laughing, not being angry. He seemed to see this as just one more of

my flirtings which rather than growing resigned to, he has come to enjoy over

…End of the part1. To be continued..

On top of the very nice physical package she was friendly, chatty and gave
a WONDERFUL lap dance. She touched as much as the law would allow, and maybe a
bit more. And as time had gone on (this was the sixth time I had come in
during the past 5 months) her dances for me had gotten just a little more
risque, a little hotter, a little more daring. She let me touch her back quite
a bit too, but I was always careful not to go over the line. It was still
great. She also gave lip-kisses. Most of the girls would only give you a
little nip on the cheek. Little details like that mean a lot to me.

Anyway, we were there and my buddy got up to go to the restroom. As he
walked away, I sighed, considering the fact I only had $22 bucks left of the
$130 I had started with, and observed that it was unfortunate the evening was
going to have to end fairly soon.

“How come?” Her voice wasn’t bad either, not the gravelly, husky female
voice that made me melt, but pretty nice all the same.

I explained the money thing. I usually got 4 or 5 (3 or 4 from her)
dances and 3-4 overpriced drinks when I came in. She knew my limits, but
I’d only had two of her dances tonight — she had been with other customers.

She leaned down with her lips to my right ear and pressed her warm soft
cheek to mine. I loved it when she did that. She did it quite a bit.

“Who says it has to end?” she asked softly.

That raised my eyebrows. She never pushed me to haul out my plastic for
her, never pushed period. A rarity, and yet another thing I liked about her
(you’re gonna be sick of all the little details I liked about this woman before
I’m done).

That left one possibility, one I’d never seriously considered before. It
was against club policy for dancers to go out with customers. Naturally the
owners were afraid of getting nailed for pimping or something, or even being
innocent bystanders in a prostitution scandal. But it sure sounded like she
was proposing a little after-work get-together. So the questions were 1) Is
she a cop? or 2) Is she a hooker?

I craned my neck around to look her in the eyes, and she shifted slightly
to help me out.

“Care to elaborate on that?” I asked.

She smiled impishly and leaned forward. Her hair spilled around our faces
and I could smell her breath. It was sweet from the call drinks we’d both had.
She touched her forehead to mine and whispered, “You’re always really sweet.
You’re friendly and you don’t try to pull a big come-on. I like that a lot.
I’d also like to spend the rest of the night with you. No strings, just fun.”
She leaned back to gauge my reaction.

She needn’t have bothered. My cock had gotten rock hard in seconds, and
as I stared back, trying to formulate a witty assent worthy of James Bond, she
pressed her leg into my erection, waggled her eyebrows suggestively and said “I
think I’ve got a ‘yes’ here.” I grinned at her and we made plans hurriedly
before my buddy came back from the restroom.

To shorten things a bit, let’s just say that it required a bit of timing
and my dashing about at high speed in my Grand Prix to get me separated from
my buddy (luckily he lived nearby) and back with Julie without her fellow
club workers noticing. Her apartment was much closer than mine, so we headed
there. I was as excited as all hell, but during the short trip alone back to
the club, I resolved that since she was giving me the most princely gift of her
beautiful body, I had to see to it that she enjoyed this evening as much as
possible. It would be my gift to her.

We had a difficult time getting into her apartment. We kept stopping
every few steps and kissing strongly. For a long time I had desired to *really*
kiss her, as opposed to the brief ones we were allowed at the club. She would
press her warm body up against mine and move up and down, stroking me with
her entire self, while our tongues “dueled like soft, moist sabers” (I’ve
always liked that line). It was wonderful, but I restrained myself as much as
possible. Crazy animalistic sex would be great, but it wasn’t what I wanted
to do for her right now. I wanted to add in a lot of tease, to make her beg
for release, to drive her crazy. I’m no Don Juan, but on the few occasions
I’d had opportunity to do this in the past, my partners were always VERY grate-
ful.

Finally, we staggered into the bedroom. She’d lost her top and I my
shirt. We flopped onto the bed, still kissing madly, but I’d managed to slow
the pace down to just intense instead of wild. Stroking her smooth back, I
eased her onto her stomach and moved up to whisper in her ear.

“Just relax for a while and let me do the work. Let it be my thanks for
your having me over.” Yeah, yeah, “having me over” isn’t all that romantic
sounding, but I didn’t want to get really gushy and say “make love”, and “have
sex” seemed *much* too cold.

“Mmmmmm,” she purred, and smiled sexily, settling onto the bed with a cute
wiggle. I took that as a “yes”, as I reached over and turned on a small lamp.
The light was subdued but ample. Excellent.
…End of the part1. To be continued..

I heard something on the beach below me and looked over the
railing of the deck. A beautiful lady in her early 30’s was dancing
by herself to the sounds coming from above. She was quite a good
dancer and obviously enjoying her solitary dancing, unaware that
anyone was watching. She moved and swayed to the sounds of “When A
Man Loves a Woman” by Percy Sledge, lost in her memories.

As the final strains of the classic faded, I said, “You dance
divinely, my dear.” She spun her head around, looking for the
speaker; startled. Then as she spun around, she looked up at me and
lost her balance, falling to the ground with a sharp cry of pain as
she twisted her ankle on the unsteady sand.

I ran down the steps to her side. “I am so sorry, I didn’t
mean to startle you,” I told her. “Are you alright?”

“NO, I twisted my damn ankle again,” she replied with a
grimace. “It’s not really your fault. I twisted it a few days ago
and should have known better than to dance on it so soon.”

“Can you walk on it?”

“I don’t think so… I need to put some ice on it.”

“Let me help you up to my apartment; I’ve got an ice pack you
can put on it. It’s the least I can do.”

She stood on her one good leg and put her arm around my
shoulder and tried to hop up the stairs. She was obviously hurting,
so I reached down and picked her up and carried her up the stairs.
She felt good in my arms and I enjoyed the feel of her breast against
my chest. I carried her inside and put her down on the couch; placed
her injured ankle on a pillow and went to get the ice pack.

When I came back, she put her good foot on the floor to give me
room to sit down and tend to her ankle. I gently placed the ice pack
on her foot and let my eyes rum up her bare legs to her cutoff blue
jean-covered crotch. Her legs were spread, and I could see a few
silky hairs peeking from the vee of her sex. I tried not to stare,
but I couldn’t help my self. My eyes traveled on up and I could see
she was not wearing a bra under her tight T-shirt. She was either
horny or cold, because her nipples were as hard as rocks, tenting the
fabric of her shirt. I looked on up into the most beautiful
eyes I had seen in a long, long time. She was smiling slightly.

“Did you enjoy the view?”

“Ah, uh, well, uh… would you like something to drink?” I
stammered, embarrassed at being caught being so obvious.

“Sure,” she replied with a mischievous grin. “Some white wine
would be nice if you have it.”

I stood to go to the kitchen and turned quickly to hide my
growing erection. In the kitchen I reached down and readjusted my
cock. “It ain’t gonna do you any good to get up, boy,” I told it
tersely. “This lady’s hurting and you ain’t got a chance to get any
tonight, so just calm down.” But, as always, he didn’t listen to me.
He had a mind of his own and it was one-track… but at least it
wasn’t so obvious after the adjustment.

I came back into the living room with our drinks and as I
walked toward her she was staring at my crotch. She turned on her
side a bit and patted the couch beside her for me to sit. “You
didn’t answer my question,” she said after she had taken a sip. She
looked at me prettily over the rim of her wineglass. “Did you enjoy
the view? I sure did.”

“I can’t help looking when I am that close to someone as
beautiful as you are,” I replied.

She reached up and pulled my head down to hers. “You’re very
sweet,” she said and kissed me. “Thanks for taking care of me.”

“It’s my pleasure.”

“Not yet it isn’t,” she said and kissed me again, running her
tongue deep into my mouth, moaning softly. We kissed passionately
for a few minutes, then I broke the kiss.

“If you don’t watch out, this is going to get out of hand and I
don’t want to hurt your foot.”

“Let me worry about the damn foot,” she replied. “I’ll let you
know if it hurts, you can be sure of that!” And with that, she
reached down, grabbed the hem of her T-shirt and pulled it over her
head. She shook her brown curly hair as the shirt came off and
dropped the shirt on the floor. She grabbed my head and drew it to
her breasts. I wallowed my face in those glorious mounds of flesh,
licking and kissing them all over. I ran my tongue around and around
…End of the part1. To be continued..

Deb looked classy — I liked her tightly creased pants and high
heels. Her short, light brown hair had blond highlights and
swept over the top of her head. She wore dark glasses that
framed her piercing brown eyes. Her lips were shiny with
lipstick and when I saw the stain on her beer glass I thought
about what it would be like to have a similar stain around my
cock. Her small mouth seemed barely big enough to fit around my
generous member — but I wanted the chance to see.

She was keeping up with me in beers and since I was starting to
feel pretty good, I knew that she had to be as well. We talked
about dope. “I haven’t been stoned in years,” she said. I
invited her out to my Jeep for a smoke and she agreed.

We tuned up and talked. “God, I’m horny,” she blurted. No need
to tell me twice — I leaned over and kissed her. We sat kissing
for several minutes, then she rested her hand on the inside of my
thigh. My hardening cock was only a couple inches away. She
moved her hand up and rest it gently on my dick. It wasted no
time in getting hard as rock; “you’re hung like a horse!” Deb
exclaimed as she ran her hand over my masterpiece. “Take a
look”, I offered as I unzipped my pants and pulled them to my
knees. My rockhard shaft bounced free and pointed straight up.

Deb bent over and put the head of my cock into her small mouth.
I could see her cheeks expand as she worked more of the shaft in.
She lathered up the head with her spit and went to work on me. I
leaned back and relaxed, watching Deb’s head bob and parry on my
engorged penis. My orgasm came quickly under her expert suck;
“I’m cuming!” I groaned. She moaned something and put in the
little extra effort necessary to bring me off. My hips thrust
forward as I popped into Deb’s mouth. She continued her up and
down motions as my balls burst forth their nectar deep into her
mouth. When she withdrew my cock, its shaft was gooey with my
spunk.
—

I walked over and asked her if she minded if I shared her table. It
was early and there were several tables available, but I wanted to
chance it anyways. She said it was fine and then went back to her
book.

The waiter came over and I ordered just a cup of coffee as I wasn’t
in the mood for much more than coffee and her. The waiter winked at
me, smiling. I was a regular here, and he rushed off, swishing this
way and that, to get me my favorite house brand. The lady appeared to
not have noticed he was even there.

I was used to this sort of thing… lots of young, career,
professional, yuppie females come into this place, looking to meet Mr.
Right, or looking to impress this boss or that. They liked to drink
their coffee, sit at their tables and look good, and more often than
not I’d end up taking them home and using them like they wanted to be
used, then sending them on their way. Tonight seemed like it’d be
nothing out of the ordinary. I could get through her book and touch
that animalistic part of her that brought her here.

The waiter brought me my coffee and swished away, trailing his hand
across my shoulder as he past me by. I smiled and shook my head,
looking around surreptitiously. I caught her glancing my way and
smirked. She could be had…

I looked at the book she was so enthralled by and read the title. I
was slightly surprised and pleased to see that she was reading one of
my favorites, a new book called “The Living One”.

“You read much horror?” I asked her.

She looked up at me, slightly confused, and said “Beg pardon?”

“You read much horror?”

“Oh! This. Yes… I pick up a book now and then. I like coming in
here and finding some dark corner and curl up with a good suspense
story. What about you? I take it you’ve read this?” She held up her
book so that I could get a better view of the spine.

“It’s one of my favorites… in fact I have an autographed copy in my
library. Maybe you’d like to see it sometime.” I hinted with a
slight smile, just barely parting my lips.

“Maybe…. but you’ll have to do better than that.” She laughed
lightly, shaking her head and tossing her hair to the side.

With her hair out of the way I could see her ear, smooth and clean and
milky white. And pinned neatly in the lobe was a gold and silver
labrys, with a diamond at the head of the axe-handle that caught the
light and sparkled. Then her hair fell back into place and the sight
of her ear was taken from me until some later time….

I continued to look at her, roaming my eyes across her face, seeing
each line in her forehead, each little smile-crease around her eyes,
and each pore of her cheeks. Her skin was white and powdery. Her
cheekbones were high and well pronounced. Her eyelashes were just
long enough to twitch when she smiled at me.

Her eyes…. one was a deep green and one was brown, and in both the
pupils had “broken” making trails down through the color and into the
white. She looked like a cat, with those eyes.

She had sat there the entire time I was staring at her, with a slight
smile on her face, and her tongue just barely flickering in and out of
her teeth. When she saw that I was done she locked gazes with me and
asked me, “You like what you saw?”

I just barely breathed “very much.”

“Good.” She returned to her book.

I thought my chances were nill at this point so I moved to get up,
before I had even half-risen her arm shot out and grabbed mine.
“Sit,” she said. Her eyes never left the page that she was reading.

I sat back down and looked at her. Now it was my turn to be puzzled.
What did she want? Who did she think she was? Who did she think *I*
was?

So we just sat there for a little while, the waiter coming back now
and then to ask me if everything was okay, to wink at me, to get me
more coffee, and to swish in my general direction.

People came and went, talking, flirting, picking each other up,
looking each other over, and still we just sat there, not a word said.
But every time I tried to get up she’d pull me back and I’d hear that
…End of the part1. To be continued..

Special thanx to: Walks-by-Night, The Unknown, Mr. Spock,
Midnight Orgy and Mad Bones

While out shopping at one of the many malls located conveniently near
me, I wandered into a water-bed store. When I entered, I saw the most beautiful
woman that I have ever seen. She was as beautiful as some of your monthly Pets.
I thought of my secret fantasy of fucking her in front of the few people in the
store.
This goddess of beauty made her way over me.
“Can I help you?” she said.
You sure can. honey, I thought to myself. “Oh, yes,” I answered. I
asked her for a certain model of sheet cover and she went in the back to check
on it. I couldn’t help but stare at her gorgeous buttocks, and thought to
myself that she had to have the nicest ass in the history of split flesh. Her
body did not stop. My thoughts were interrupted when I noticed her standing in
front of me, staring at my now-erect love tool.
“I found what you were looking for. Come back with me and I will show
you,” she said. I followed and before I could offer any resistance, she tore
off most of my clothes and threw me on the bed. We kissed passionately and then
she started to nibble on the head of my penis. She worked down my rod and
licked my balls, and she didn’t stop until I spewed my penis cream over her
face and down her throat. As I was coming, I told her my fantasy of making love
in public. It was easy to convince her to move our copulating to one of the
water beds outside in the shop. Since it was almost closing time, I gussed she
figured it would be safe.
We dressed and walked casually toward one of the sensual water beds set
up in the middle of the store. We lay down as if we were just a young couple
testing out the bed to see if it was comfortable. I unbuttoned her shirt to
reveal her large, firm breasts and rock-hard nipples. I was really turned on. I
slipped off her dress and panties as she disrobed me. Our sexual act caught the
attention of several customers. I lifted her up and placed her under the
sheets. She whispered in my ear to fuck her with all I had. I got under the
covers and slid my rod into her tight love tunnel. I was so aroused that I came
almost immediately, and her climax followed several seconds after mine.
She was moaning for more. So we turned around and got into a sixty-
nine position, this time without the concealment of the cover. She began to
suck like there was no tomorrow. I slid my tongue around the circumference of
her labia and tongued her clit until she was about to climax. I finally dove
right in and tongue-fucked her until she had four consecutive orgasms. We
fucked again while standing. Our screams almost cracked all the windows in the
store.
We finally got up and dressed. She locked up the store and told me that
she would call me again. She never did, but it didn’t matter. My fantasy had
come true.

–

Late one night, as she finishes her studying for the exam, she feels a great
desire to log on the computer. She drives in to the cluster. Waiting there is
a message from a man. A stranger to her,but it says to call him later. She is
the adventurous sort so she chats on the computer for a while, then decides to
call him on-line. They speak only briefly for he is doing some work. He says
for her to call him when she returns home. It was very late but she agrees.

She’s a bit nervous about calling this man. She has a strange sensation going
through her body but it is quite an arousing one. Her roommate has long since
gone to bed, so she virtually has the place to herself. She hears the phone
ring in her ear. It sounds as if in a hollow chamber calling out her name. He
finally answers. They chat for a bit, just general BS. It is a cold rainy night
and she is feeling a bit uncomfortable. He asks if he can come over, but she
can’t say anything. The words stick in her throat. She knows what is on his
mind. His voice is tantilizing. The storm is weakening her resistence. Without
an answer, he says he’ll be over in 15 minutes. As she is waiting she begins
to think of why she let him come over. She doesn’t know. She has felt this
mysterious sensation before. Why her…? She is pondering all sorts of
thoughts. Slowly she rises. SHe knows what he is expecting. She removes her
sweatshorts and panties, leaving only her nightshirt. Her skin is tingling.
Her body quivering. She wonders what would occur if her roommate would wake
up. The tension is invigorating. Suddenly there is a knock on the door, she
slowly opens the door. He makes his way in from the rain. He takes her in
his arms in a deep passionate kiss. He realizes her lack of clothing quickly
by exploring the realms of her body. He gently massages her swollen pussy lips
She moans at his touch. He slowly pushes 3 fingers deep inside her. Her head
falls back at the emmense pleasure. With his thumb gently flicking her clit,
he pumps into her. Her body is rocking to his motions.

He begins to pull his fingers out of her, but she doesn’t want it to end.
More she whispers, more. He slowly takes her and moves her around to where
she can sit down on the couch. There he is before her. She kisses the tip of
her enraged cock. She nuzzles his balls until he is nearly whimpering. She
takes a little of the shaft into her mouth and gently sucks while circling
the head with her tongue. She slowly pulls back. He pushes her back onto the
couch. He grabs her lags beneath the kness and pulls her to him. Her ass is
hanging off the couch, but he pushes into her. She can feel every inch of his
swollen cock inside her. She is in emmense pleasure and more is on the way.
He strokes her from experience. He seemd to know when to increase or decrease
the intensity of the strokes. Her mind can think of nothing but the pleasure
inside her. She can feel him burst inside of her, shooting hot jism into her
very depths. As she lay there thinking of all the touches, he got up, dressed,
and left….

–

“Forgive me father, for I have sinned.”

That was how I began kneeling in that little cubicle asking
the local parish priest to intercede for me. “It has been two months
since my last confession and these are my sins.”

“Go ahead my daughter,” Father Ryan said to me.

“Father, I have lied, I have disobeyed my parents, and I have
sworn. And …”

“Yes, my dear,” he urged me to continue.

“And father, I have fucked 16 boys.”

I heard Father Ryan suck in his breath at that one. But, regaining
his compsure rapidly, he said merely, “Tell me more my child.” And this
is the story that I related to him.

I guess I should begin by saying that my name is Jenny though
some of my friends call me Jen. I guess soon some of them might be
calling me slut. But that’s okay, ’cause I guess it’s probably trye.
In any case, I’m sixteen years old, kinda’ plain looking I guess,
smallish, with glasses. Actually, I’m not much more than 5-feet tall and
usually weigh around 95 pounds. I still think I’ve got a decent body
and, considering my size, my boobs are downright decent.

I was always a good Christian. I seldom had dates but when I
did, I was pretty firm in brushing off any advances. But that all changed
a couple of weeks ago. Me and my girlfriend Sue went to the movies together
with her twin brother Don. Don is kind of the nerdy type and you can
leave it to him to do the nerdy thing.

We were watching the movie when Sue got up to go to the rest
room. Don, who had been sitting next to his sister slid over a seat next
to me. After a few moments he asked me if I wanted some popcorn. I said
sure and put my hand into the box. Well, the asshole had put a hole in
the bottom, unzipped his fly, and had his huge cock poking though it.
Very original!

I was pissed. “I don’t believe you did that,” I said to him
loudly enough so that other people turned to look. “You are a jerk.”

“Shhhh,” he said to me looking around nervously. “Don’t tell
Sue, okay?”

His eyes looked terrified and I felt a little sorry for him. I
reached back into the popcorn box and his cock had shrunk into a pathetic
little shrivel. I felt a twinge of excitement in my groin and began
playing with his penis. It quickly regained its former stature and he
began breathing heavily.

“I do this with my sister all the time,” he whispered between
pants. As I was digesting the significance of that statement he exploded
a disgusting gooey mess all over my hand. Not ten seconds later, Sue
arrived and I excused myself to go the lady’s room. I cleaned up in
there.

Nobody said a word about the whole affair and that night I went
to bed and thought about the whole thing. I fantasized about touching
that cock, about putting it into my mouth, about being fucked by it.
My hand unconsciously dropped to my crotch and, for the first time in
my life, I soon masturbated myself to a delicious orgasm.

A couple of days later I saw Don in school and he said to me,
“You wanna’ get together after classes?” I shook my head but he said
“Meet me at the 7-11 at 4.” I walked away without saying anything.

The rest of the classes seemed to drag by as I thought about
the conversation. I couldn’t let a little prick like that boss me
around but I wanted to hear more about him and his sister. And I
a found myself squirming as my pussy got wetter and wetter. By the
end of the day I was both embarassed at my predicament and horny as
hell. I may have been a virgin, but I now knew what the it was like
to be in a nympho-rage.

And so it was that I found myself in the parking lot of the
local 7-11 at the appointed time. And there was Don sitting in the
shit-box of a Renault that he called a car. I walked up to the
driver’s side window and he said to me, “Get around and get in.”
I rebelled slightly at the thought of being bossed around but I
was always pretty easy to dominate. Maybe it was because of my
petitness.

So I got in the car and barely closed the door before he was
backing up the car and driving off. I looked at him as he silently
concentrated on the driving. He was UGLY, that was the only word for
it. But, I was attracted.

And so it was that he drove some several miles into the country
finally arriving at a dirt lane that led into an old, abandoned farm. He
drove the car around the back of the barn with the pitching and swaying
of the auto’s jiggling bringing waves of excitement over me. My legs
trembled slightly as I left the vehicle when Don elicited the simple
comment, “OK, we’re here.”

In the back of my mind, thoughts of “where does this cocksucker
get off treating me this way?” wandered briefly but I quickly pushed
them aside. Don led me through an opening in the back to a ladder
leading to a loft.

“You first,” he commanded. I blushed slightly at the thought
that he would have a perfect view looking up my skirt as I scaled the
ladder. As I neared the top I looked down and, sure enough, he was
looking straight up. I wondered if my wetness had dampened my panties.

Don scrambled up the ladder quickly and stood in front of me
leering. I backed away slightly as I saw the bulge growing in his pants.
“Kiss me,” he said reaching out.

He grabbed the back of my head and and put his mouth over mine.
His tongue soon invaded my mouth as he edged me back against the wall.
Then his body was pressing into mine and I could feel his hard cock
pressing against me. Soon, his hands we’re dropping to my tits and
rubbing them both. “No,” I said breaking the kiss and attempting to
get from between him and the wall of the old barn.

“FUCK!” he yelled stepping away, “Make up your mind, bitch!
Do you want me or not?”

“I’m scared, Don,” I said to him in a quivering voice. “What will
people think?”

“Well then, fuck you,” he said with venom dripping from his voice.
“If you change you’re mind let me know.” With that he started for the
ladder.

“Please don’t go,” I said.

“Well then,” he began turning back towards me, “No more of this
nonsense. I’m the boss here and you will do whatever I tell you. Do you
understand?”

“Yes,” I whimpered feeling all vestiges of pride draining from me.
This nerd of a guy with the pimples was going to fuck me right here and
now. And, he was not going to be nice about it.

“That’s better but, and I’ll only warn you this once, you will do
whatever I say or you will be promptly punished. Your body will be mine
whenever I desire and for whatever I want to use it for.” He looked at
me with a look of smug victory. Though a part of me rebelled at being
talked to this way, a bigger part of me melted. The thought of punishment
brought waves of pleasure to my now sopping groin.

“I will do whatever you want me to, Don,” I said simply.

“Take off your clothes,” he commanded.

I must have hesitated because he grabbed me and threw me face first
over a couple of old saw horses. It didn’t occur to me till later that
they were deliberately placed for the purpose of what was to follow.

I found myself face down bent over the horses. My skirt was quickly
lifted up and I dared not to resist. Just as quickly I felt my panties
being violently lowered till they were around my knees. I shivered as I
felt a finger draw a line from the top of the crack of my ass to the
front of my pussy. It paused at my asshole and my cunt-hole.

Then I cried out as his hand came careening down to whack me on
my ass. Again and again blows came down as I received a humiliating
spanking. I squirmed and tried to put my hands back to ward off the
blows but he merely grabbed both of my wrists in one hand as he spanked
me with the other. My ass grew warm as the punishment turned my cheeks
bright red. After what must have been thirty blows, the spanking stopped.

“Now bitch, I’m gonna’ pop the virgin cherry of yours and you’re
gonna love it!” I looked back to see his cock sticking out of his
unzippered pants bulging big and purple. It looked about three-feet long
to me. With one push he was inside of me as I felt the hymen of my
youth being torn away. It hurt but not as bad as the spanking did.

He thrust in and out of me harder and harder and his hands
groped inside of my blouse for my tits. I began moving my hips to
match his thrusts as I felt the second orgasm of my life welling inside
of me. Then I came in deep, delicious pulsations. Not thirty seconds
later I came again as he pushed himself ever more violently into
my pussy. “Oh, God,” I screamed as I came yet a third time and he too
began grunting as he exploded inside of me. I half collapsed onto the
floor as he backed away.

“Lick it off,” he said to me.

I knelt in front of him and took his now shrinking member into
my mouth and licked it clean with my tongue. Looking down, he examined
his member and clucked a quiet approval. “I will drive you home now, but
I expect to meet you the same place, same time tomorrow. Understand?”

“Yes, Don,” I said meekly.

That night, I lay in bed thinking of the days events. My crotch
felt as though I still had him inside of me. I wondered wether he was
big or small as far as guys went. It had looked HUGE to me. Then, my
thoughts drifted to how he bossed me around and how he punished me. My
fingers drifted to my cunt and I started rubbing myself harder and
harder till I came as I remembered the humiliating spaking the pimple-
faced nerd had administered. Was I becoming a whore?

The next day was a little less dramatic from a pain stand point
of view. I met Don as instructed and we drove to the same location. While
outside, Don instructed me to remove my panties. I did so and he threw
them on the front seat of the car. Again, I climbed the ladder first and
again, he peered up but this time at my exposed pussy. I was already wet.

In the loft, I looked around quickly. The barn itself had obviously
not been used for farming activities in some years. However, the upstairs
looked as though it had been. I didn’t know if it was just Don or if other
guys came up here. I wondered if Don brought his sister up here or if
they fucked at home or if they fucked at all. There was some weird con-
traptions hanging from the ceiling and from one of the side walls. I was
pretty sure they were not related to any farming activities but said
nothing to Don.

“Remove your clothes,” Don said to me. I began to unbutton my
blouse when he shrieked, “Quickly!”. My clothes were on the floor in
30 seconds.

“Lay on that pile of hay and masturbate yourself,” he said.

I moved to the far end of the floor where a thick pile of hay lay
and laid down with my legs spread facing Don. I felt self-conscious but
I my ass was still sore from the spanking I had received yesterday and so,
I did not want to receive another. I closed my eyes and let my hand rove
my body. I soon found myself fantasizing about the fucking I had received
yesterday and it wasn’t long before my groping fingers found their way
inside my sloppy pussy. I opened my eyes to see if Don was watching and
saw him sitting on one of the saw-horses with an abviously huge erection
bulging through his pants. Oh, how I wanted that cock! And then, I came
in a shower of sparks.

I laid back and said quietly, “I did what you asked, Don, now
please fuck me. Fuck me, okay?”

Don looked at me and smiled wickedly. “You were okay and so, today
you will be rewarded. Undress me.”

I got up and walked over to him. I unbuttoned his short and ran
my hands over his chest. Next, my hands worked down to his pants and I
rubbed his erect penis through the material. I heard him gasp slightly.

Withing a few minutes I found myself back on the floor with
Don thrusting his face between my legs. He was going to eat me! I reached
down and clutched the back of his head as I felt his tongue and his lips
working over my cunt. He reached out and lifted my legs upon to his shoul-
ders exposing me to deep thrusts of his tongue into my pussy that started
to make me tingle with another building orgasm. Next, I felt his fingers
starting to probe my asshole. With a suddent thrust, he inserted a finger
deep inside of my that sent me over the edge into another climax that
seemed to be the deepest yet.

“Fuck me,” I begged hoarsely between contractions.

With my legs still on his shoulders, Don guided his penis into
me. Just the head at first, in and out, in and out. “Harder,” I cried,
“Farther. Stick it into me.” I was wild with frenzy and wanted him to
fuck the living daylights out of me. I wanted to not be able to walk
for a week.

With that he bent my legs far forward and started attacking me
with glee. Harder and deeper his thrusts went. I could feel his balls
slapping against my ass as he seemed to be ripping me apart. “Oh, God,
I’m gonna’ come again,” I screamed. And then I exploded into climax
after climax. I reached as best I could to his ass and pulled him
hard trying to get that clorious cock to somehow find away to sink yet
deeper. “Fuck me, Don. Fuck me, Don,” I said timed to each thrust of
his hips. “Make it hurt,” I cried.

I reached down and felt his balls which eveidently was more
than he could stand. I felt his cock throb inside of me and then
he gushed spurt after spurt of semen inside of me. It felt wonderful!

Don collapsed onto the floor panting and I pulled his head onto
my breast, gently stroking his hair. “That was wonderful, my lover,”
I said to him, “Can we do this every day.”

This went on for a number of weeks, though not every day. We
explored new positions and new locales. We did it in the boys rest
room before school hours, in my parents bed one day when they weren’t
home, even in a church pew. Don was like a schizophrenic. Some days
he was very nice to me. Other days came frightful punishments when
I didn’t please him just so. Though the sex was great, I came to
like it better when accompanied by the punishment.

School let out for the summer and July 4th was just around
the corner when he said to me, “Jenny, you’re ready now.”

“Ready for what?” I asked automatically unbuttoning my
blouse.

“Tell your parents that you are spending Independence day
with me and my sister. That’s actually the truth but I have a suprise
for you.”

My heart beat a little faster as I realized I might find out
just what the hell, if anything, was going on between Don and Sue. I
had thought about it often with emotions torn between excitement
that she was fucking her own brother and out and out jealousy.

July 4th rolled around and, for a change, Don drove to the
house to pick me up. I waved good bye to my parents telling them
I did not know exactly when I would be home but that it would
probably be shortly after the fireworks. I didn’t say exactly what
types of fireworks I had in mind.

I was disappointed to see that Sue was not in the car. Don
merely said that I would see her later and he drove off. After
traversing several blocks, he pulled the car to the side of the
road and handed me a bag. Put these on, he said simply. Inside
of the bag was sone flimsy night clothes and a blind-fold.

“Don, I can’t,” I said looking at the cars going by.

“Do it you fucking whore!” he snarled at me. “Do it or
I’m going to bring you home and you’ll never know what you missed
today.”

I slinkered down into the car seat and stripped off my clothes
and put on the lingerie he had brought to me. It was actually a two
piece suit with purple panties and a matching see through nightie.
Last, I put on the blindfold.

“Put your hands in front of you,” he said. I did so and felt
the cold iciness of steel locking around my wrists. He handcuffed me!
“Don’t touch the blind-fold,” he commanded.

After another fifteen minutes or so of driving, I had totally
lost track of all the turns. We ended up pulling into a driveway or
a parking lot obvioulsy made of gravel. Don turned the engine off and
came around to my side of the car and opened the door. I carefully
got out and then he put something around my throat. “A dog collar,”
he announced simply.

“Now listen, very carefully,” he said, “You are to do whatever
I or anyone else says to you. Do NOT embarrass me.”

“What do you mean you or anyone else?” I said.

“Shut up.” he said jerking on the collar. He led me by the leash
across a short expanse. “Watch your step,” said to me leading me up
a set of stairs and through a door. We went through what seemed to be
a short hallway into a room where I sensed, but could not here, other
people. I heard a chain jingle and then my arms were lifted over my
head. I heard a snap and my arms were released but I couldn’t lower
them. I was chained!

“Here she is,” Don announced.

“She’s tiny,” said another voice. It sounded like a grown man.

All of a sudden, the room exploded into more voices than I could
count. Most sounded like boys around Don’s age. Others seemed older. Some
of the voices I thought I could recognize but I wasn’t certain.

I was left hanging there for several minutes as laughter and
conversation consumed the room. I was terrified. Then, I felt a hand
on my ass rubbing up and down drifting lower to feel my pussy through
the material. The hand roamed around to the front of my body and I felt
an erect cock pressing against my buttocks. First one hand, then another,
encircled my breasts and began to fondle them roughly. The the hand lowered
to my pantied and lifted them to allow entrance. The hand groped my
cunt and I felt a finger painfully inserted into me.

“The fucking cunt isn’t even wet,” the voice exclaimed at the same
time as I heard the obvious clicking of a camera.

All of a sudden there were hands all over me. I was lowered from
the chain that suspended me. What few clothes I had were torn off as
I was pushed from one set of open arms to another. I was kissed roughly
by one, had one pussy grabbed by another, and on and on and on.

After what seemed an eternity I was dragged several feet and
forced to lay over the knees of somebody who smelled as though he had
been drinking. Smack! I felt the familiar stinging sensation as a hand
came down forcefully on my ass. Smack! The sound rang through the room
as voices urged my punisher on. Smack! The hand that was punishing me
seemed much larger and meatier than Don’s. In any case, the blows
were much harder. Smack!

This went on for five or six minutes. I cried out in pain but
that only caused the blows to come down harder. “Bitch,” the voice
exclaimed in time with the spanking. “You’ve gotta lesson to learn
and you’re gonna learn it now!”. Smack!

Gradually, my howls of pain mixed with howls of lust as I
heard all the male voices urging my tormentor on. Where was Don,
I wondered? Who cares!

All at once the spanking stopped but I was still pinned across
his knees. I began to think of him as Superman. One of Superman’s
hands was planted in my back holding me down. The other he slipped
between my legs and started moving to my pussy. I was so sopping wet
that I could smell myself in heat. At the moment of rough contact,
I exploded into an orgasm.

“The bitch is ready,” he announced standing up and allowing
me to uncerimoniously roll onto the floor. “You all draw numbers
like usual, but the cunt is mine first!”

Draw numbers? All of a sudden, it occurred (or re-occurred)
to me that I was in a room – where I didn’t know – with a bunch of
men – who I didn’t know – being sexually abused. Gawd! It was
wonderful!!!

I heard some comotion and then a whining voice complain,
“Sixteen! That sucks!.”

“No, the bitch sucks,” said Superman, “Watch.”

“Get on your knees,” he said. I knew he was talking to me but,
even if I hadn’t, the jerking of the leash which was still around
my neck, would have told me. I knelt in the direction that Superman’s
voice seemed to be coming from and, with my wrists still cuffed,
groped till I felt the legs in front of me. I groped further and
my hands felt the erection of a monster cock through the pants
material. “You know what to do.”

I unzipped him and felt around finally extracting ‘Super-Penis’
through the hole in his underwear. It fell out and hit me in the mouth.
I took it between my lips and started licking and sucking as my hands
went up and down the shaft. The son-of-a-bitch was huge. Not only was
he much longer than Don, but it was wide!

All of a sudden Superman’s hand reached behind my head and
grabbed me. Then he began to wham his prick into my mouth. I tried to
push against him with my hands but he was to strong. Farther and
farther he pushed and all I could do was open my mouth wider and give
him a clear access to my throat.

Soon, he was actually in my throat and I was fighting a
gagging reflex. But he thrust his hips ever forward while holding my
head still. All at once, he gave a big thrust forward and I felt his
balls slapping against my chin. My nose was in his mat of tangled
pubic hair as his cock impaled my throat deeply.

“Suck and lick you fucking whore-bitch,” he commanded.

With his cock so deep in me, stretching my throat to the
bursting point, I reangled my head to give Super-Penis a straighter
path. I swished my tongue over the base of his cock feeling the
hairs between my teeth. I moved my whole body back and forth letting
his cock slide up and down my throat. I began to get excited as I
felt his cock stiffen and get even bigger. I knew he was about to
cum. And, all of a sudden cum he did. It seemed like gallons of it
gushing into my mouth and throat. I could feel some escape and drip
down from the corner of my mouth.

No sooner was Superman down with me than a smaller set of hands
grabbed my shoulders and pulled me down on the floor. “Hello whore,”
a voice attached to the hands, “I’m going to fuck you. And so is
everyone in this room. And then we’re going to fuck you again.”

All I could do in response was moan as I felt my pussy contract.
The hands groped my breasts and squashed them against my chest.
I decided to call this one Number 2. He grabbed the chain between the
cuffs than bound my wrists and forced my arms over my head. Another
set of hands then pinned my arms to the floor as I heard Number 2
unzip his fly. He knelt down roughly spreading my legs wide and
quickly penetrated my cunt. His cock felt more Don-size and I took
him easily. “Tell me you love me,” he said to me as he thrust rapidly
into and out of me. His voice seemed young, maybe younger than Don’s.

“I love you,” I said. I felt another orgasm welling inside of
me as his cock started to stiffen. But instead of shotting his load
into me, he pulled out. I felt his cum spraying over my face and
and tits.

“One your hands and knees,” came the deep voice of number
three. These guys were fucking me almost faster than I count. Number
2 was the slam-bam-thank-you-ma’m type but, I had a feeling this
guy was going to be different.

Obeying the voice which sounded like an older black man’s,
I rolled over onto my tummy and raised myself onto my hands and knees.
I felt his hands on the upper part of my back and then felt him
squatting behind me. He entered me from behing with one big push of
a cock as long as Superman’s but not as thick. “Give me a ride,”
the deep voice commanded. I felt him take up the leash and jerk me
by the throat.

His weight was partially on my back and partially on my legs
as he stayed impaled in me. He must have been taking most of his
weight himself in his squatting position because I was able to
‘carry’ him as I began to crawl on my hands and knees. He humped me
while we slowly moved in whatever direction he jerked the leash.
He said something to me that I didn’t hear because I was concentrating
on that delicious cock buried inside of me. My head came jerking up
violently and I started to gag as he pulled on the leash sharply.
“I said to bark, bitch,” the low voice growled. “Bark like the dog
that you are!”

So, with a dick in my cunt, handcuffs on my wrists, a blind-
fold over my eyes, a leash around my neck, and a big, black man
riding me, I crawled around the room barking and growling like a
dog. Because that was what I had been told to do.

This was a long fuck and I came several times in small waves
of orgasm. But, all good things have to come to and end and I soon
felt the now familiar sensation of Number 3’s cock starting to grow
and throb inside of me. With that he pulled out of me and rolled me
onto the floor on my back and came all over my face and tits. I
stuck my tongue out greedily trying to suck up some of that cum.

“Now, my boy,” number three said to me, “jerk him off.”

I felt the presence of another body in front of me. Number
four was much smaller than the last one – presumably his son – and
had his dick already exposed waving in my face. For a small boy,
the dick was big.

I began to fondle his member and heard his breathing become
deeper rapidly. After no more than thirty seconds I massaged his
balls to be greeted my a massive explosion of sticky cum on my face.
I felt is dripping onto my tits and my belly. The boy was quick and
this was greeted by laughter around the room.

Feeling bad for the kid, I leaned forward to take his cock
into my mouth but instead had my arms roughly grabbed from behind.
I was jerked away and dragged across the floor to the cheering of
the spectators. “Now it’s my turn,” snarled a voice.

Dripping with cum in my face, in my hair, and hanging from
the nipples on my tits, I laid there in the middle of the floor
waiting to find out which way number five intended to mount me.
I didn’t have long to wait. “Don’t just lay there, bitch. Sit on
it.”

With that several sets of hands picked me up and put me
down ontop of him. He was already lying on the floor, face up,
and buck naked as far as I could tell. “Put it in,” he commanded
simply.

I reached down underneath me as well as I could with the
cuffs and, adjusting my position somewhat, grabbed his cock and
moved it towards my sloppy vagina. I assumed a squatting position
and lowered myself onto him. He seemed to be sized about like Don
but I wished he were sized more like number 1 or even number 3.
That is, until he actually entered me. I’d never done it this
way before and he felt huge with my weight pressing me down and
his cock impaling me from below.

“Fuck me,” he said, “You do the work – I’m tired.”

I began to raise and lower myself seven or eight inches
at a time. Despite what he said, he was raising his hips up
every time I lowered myself to sink himself as deep in me as he
could. The room was becoming noisy and a chant went up, “Hump
the bitch, hump the bitch.”

Though my legs were tiring, the fucking went on a long
time. I smelled liquor being poured in the room and I felt the
presence of bodies pressing close. A bottle of something foul
was pressed to my lips and I was forced to drink something
that burned my throat as it went down. At that, number five
started pumping vigorously into me and I came for the umpteenth
time. Unlike the others, I felt him stiffen inside of me and
then cum in spurts of delicious goo inside of me. I continued
to pumping even after I felt him go soft.

A voice then called saying, “Now it’s my turn, whore.
Come here.” The voice seemed to come from my left and I got up
and walked wobbly leg to where the voice seemed to come from.
Hands kept running over my body. One set stopped me from behind,
cupped my left breast roughly with one hand and stuck a finger
into my ass with the other.

“Now, fuck me,” said the voice that went with the finger.
Evidently, this was number six. Number six lowered me to the
floor on my back and threw my legs onto his shoulders and then
thrust his cock into my pussy. He leaned forward heavily till
my legs were almost over my ears and my cunt was facing straight
up. He pumped me so hard that I yelled in pain, “You’re killing me!”
That only brought a howl of laughter from the gaggle of males
that seemed to be pressing around. And number six fucked me long and
hard exploding his cum deep inside of me, so deep that I thought
he was going to come out of my throat. I didn’t have an orgasm
with him.

“Stand up,” I was told when he was though with me. So I
stood up and felt gooey jism drip down the inside of my legs. I
feared I must have looked a mess and I could smell myself. I
smelled like a whorehouse.

“Drink some more,” said a voice. The bottle of, I guessed
it must have been whiskey, was pushed to my lips again and, gagging,
I got several swallows down. I began to feel whoozy. “I have to
go to the bathroom,” I announced.

“So go ahead,” said the voice of someone who, though I hadn’t
fucked him yet, I certainly would soon.

“Where?” I asked.

“Right where you are, bitch!” said the voice. I felt something
being shoved between my legs. “Into the pail standing up.”

“No,” I said, “please don’t make me do that.”

“Who’s next?” the voice raged in anger.

“I am,” answered a voice. It was Don!

“Well that’s good because you brought the uncooperative bitch
here in the first place. I want her punished and I want her punished
good. She has to learn some respect.”

“Come here, Jen,” Don said to me pulling me by the arm. I
was a little scared of what the punishment could be. “I’m sorry I
have to do this to you, but you’ve got it coming.”

I was led to a narrow bench of some sort and forced to bend
over it face down. My hands were clamped into some sort of restraints
at the end and I was helpless to move. A few moments later, I felt
something greasy being applied around and then into my asshole. Don
was going to fuck me in the ass! The thought both excited me and
scared me.

I heard Don – I assumed it was still him behind me – unbuckling
his belt only to be greeted by a growing chant: “Punish her! Punish
her!” I began to grow scard.

All at once a felt his young man-hood pressing around my
virgin asshole. He was pressing the head of the cock I so adored against
my rose-bud slowly spreading me. I tried to relax myself but too late.
With a sudden thrust he entered me accompanied by a howling scream coming
from my own lips. I felt like I was being ripped apart. He stood still
with his prick in my asshole as I lay writhing underneath him.

“So, do it,” came a voice that seemed to be Superman’s -
my number one. How many were we up to? That’s right, Don was number
seven.

“Is my cock in your ass?” asked Don.

“Yes,” I gasped. Though the initial waves of pain were subsiding,
I still felt like I was impaled on a telephone pole.

“Wrong answer,” he said. And then I felt the lash of the belt
across my back. I screamed and wiggled but between my hands being bound
to the bench, and his weight on my ass, I couldn’t free myself from the
source of pain.

The first lash was followed by two more leaving streaks of
pain across my upper back. “Is my cock in your ass?” he asked again
putting inflection on the last word.

“Yes,” I screamed at him hysterically not knowing what it was
I was supposed to say to him.

Three more lashes. The leather of the belt stung viciously
as I was whipped in front of this crowd of men. “Say it you dumb
bitch!” he said to me, “Is my cock in your ass?”

“Yes,” I cried, “Your cock is in my ass!”

“That’s better,” he said softly. Now he began to slow pump
himself in and out of me. “I have to punish you now, Jen,” he said,
“Because you disobeyed an order. You are a slave, a tramp, and a
whore. And you must obey immediately the command of anybody in this
room. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” I said, and then added, “Master.” His fucking was
becoming more vigorous and despite the pain and the humiliation,
I began raising my hips to swallow his manhood deeper into my bowels.

The belt came down again to enforce the lesson I had just
been taught. But the blows were half-hearted. Instead of the searing
pain I felt before, these hurt deliciously. Oh, I wanted to be
spanked again right there in front of all those people.

I felt Don’s penis stiffen and swell. He came inside of
my rectum in mightly lunges gushing his seed deep within my recesses.
I lifted my hips as high as I could to take him in and felt his balls
slapping against my twat.

When he withdrew from me I felt the need to evacuate my bowels
and hoped that Don didn’t have shit on the end of his dick. I also
felt pressure on my bladder reminding me that I had to pee like a
race horse.

But I wasn’t to be given an opportunity for I soon felt the
hands of number eight turning me over right on the bench forcing my
arms, which were still tied to the bench, to cross at the elbows.
He entered my pussy, now slippery with both my love juices and the
cum of I could hardly remember how many men, immediately and began
lifting me off the bench with each thrust.

Number eight seemed to be about average sized, maybe even
a little smaller, but he knew how to use what he had. My hips were
hanging over the edge of the bench and my pussy was pointing slightly
down as a result. Number eight was almost fucking me from below by
getting under me and with each thrust, burying himself into me until
the point where his cock was lifting me in the air a good six inches.
It was wonderful and I felt my come time and time again. He fucked
me for a good 15 minutes before pulling out and shooting his jism
all over my tits and stomach. All this time and he never said a
word to me.

When he was through with me, my hands were untied and I
was pulled up by the wrists. I was still handcuffed. I was led to
the same pail as before. This time I didn’t hesitate because I had
to go so bad I almost couldn’t stand it. I stood there with my legs
spread and staddling the pail and felt relief as the urine streamed
down noisily into the pail. Ahh, sweet relief. It didn’t bother me
at all that all these men were watching and laughing.

Over the next hour or so I was fucked again and again. There
was one that fucked me missionary style that couldn’t have been more
than thirteen years old. He came even more quickly than did number
six (or was it five?). He shot his load into me but most ejaculated
on my face or tits or belly. One guy lifted my legs onto his shoulders
but, instead of sticking himself into my cunt, he rammed himself into
my ass and gave me a rough butt-fucking. Unlike with Don, I came
mightily.

Number sixteen led me to the middle of the floor and forced
me to kneel in front of him and suck his cock. I felt cum leaking
from my pussy and from my violated asshole. I felt it dripping down
my face and throat, down the insides of my legs, and down my
belly from the tits. I was a mess but, now that it was almost over,
I was going to give this guy – he seemed to be just a kid – the
best blow job of his life.

I worked on him for a few minutes until he withdrew. He pulled
me to my feet and led me to the same bench as before. But, this time
I laid down in the opposite direction with my head hanging over the
edge. “Open your mouth,” he said.

Understanding, I opened myself trying to give him a clear shot
to my throat. He entered me and began pushing farther and farther.
I momentarily gagged as he entered my throat but the sound was muffled
as his manhood (boyhood?) prevented any sound from escaping. I breathed
threw my nose as he crammed himself deep in me. I swished my tongue
greedily over his his cock trying to reach around and stroke the
vein running along the bottom (or to me, the top). Then he emit a
groan as he released his load into me, most of it going right into my
throat. Some of his warm jism remained in my mouth and attempted to
suck it up but a little managed to dribble out of the corner of my
mouth.

I thought that would be it but a voice called out, “Who wants
seconds?” How long could this go on I wondered? I was helpless to leave
even if I wanted to but, I was beginning to get sore. I doubted I would
be able to walk anyway but bow-legged for weeks.

I was led to the middle of the room where I was commanded to
“Sit on it.” It sounded like number three, the black man with the long
dick. I straddled him at the hips and lowered myself onto his rejuvenated
cock. By the distance it went up into me I knew that, yes, this was
number 2.

“Now bend forward,” said another voice. It was Superman’s -
number one. The one with the HUGE pecker. I leaned forward as told
knowing what was to follow. I felt him straddle his legs around my
hips and with start to thrust himself into my rear end. He was much
bigger than the other two who had butt-fucked me and his first attempt
wasn’t successful. He then put his meaty hands on my shoulders and,
pulling against me, thrust harder into me causing me to shriek in
pain as he entered me. I felt moisture and knew that he was so big
that he was causing some bleeding. I could feel the two cocks
touching each other through the thin wall separating my nether region
from my overused pussy.

But that wasn’t enough. I then felt a third cock being pressed
against my lips. I opened my mouth to accept what I guessed to be
the dick of number nine or number ten. Without a voice, I couldn’t
be sure.

All at once, the three men started pumping. I was trapped
between the three and couldn’t move even if I had had the slightest
idea how to. Every cavity in my body was being filled with the cocks
of men that were fucking a high school girly probably half their
age.

I heard some squishing noises which turned out to be a couple
of the others masturbating themselves close by. They quickly came
onto my back but the ass/cunt/mouth fucking I was getting lasted
a while. The guy in front of me was pushing particularly hard and
I felt myself being shoved back onto the other two cocks so that
I was buried more deeply than I thought I could handle. The guy
underneath me was hitting bottom with every stroke. The guy on
top of me was shoving his member deep within the confines of
my bowels and had me spread wide open. All of a sudden I came
with violent orgasms. My whole body shook over and over as the
three men, almost simultaneously also came in me.

I must have fainted for I remember things going dark and,
the next thing I knew, I was on the bench on my back.

“Jenny,” a voice was saying sweetly. It was a feminine
voice.

“Sue?” I asked still groggy.

“It’s me, Jenny. It’s Sue. And, now it’s my turn.”

The last words didn’t really sink in. I was still trying to
figure out why it was dark. Then the blindfold, the handcuffs, and
the leash all came back to me. But I didn’t have time to say any
more for the next thing I was aware of was a damp, pungent pussy
being shoved in my face. I was to eat my girlfriend Sue!

She shoved her mound back and forth across my mouth till
my tongue darted out and began stroking her. I felt her asshole
rubbing my nose. Her hands drifted down and began rubbing my
tits and then my clit. She moaned softly as she ground her pussy
against my mouth till she let out a loud howl as she came. I
was on the edge myself and she finished me off quickly as she
lowered her face to my sopping crotch and darted her tongue
into me and over my clit.

After that, Don led me and Sue across the floor and though
a door. Among the voices that were jabbering I heard one say, “She’s
all right Don. And you did all right. Congratulations – you’re
a member.”

We were led to a room. I felt the handcuffs being removed
and Don said, “Okay, you can take the blindfolds off.”

I reached up and tore mine off in relief. I noticed that
Sue had been similary blind-folded and was surprised. Also, Sue
was as naked as I but, unlike myself, she wasn’t covered from
head to toe in men’s cum.

We showered in that room with Don standing outside of the
door. Sue explained the ordeal to me as best she could. All that she
really knew was that there was some all-male club in town. To be
a member, you had to introduce a woman to the group who was both
pretty and talented. I had never thought of myself as pretty before.
Sue also explained that the woman had to be submissive and I was
glad I was able to help Don.

She also told me of her experience several months before.
At the time, a total of 21 males were present for the ‘initiation’.
It seemed that the holiday found some members out of town. Her
mentor, a friend of Don’s named Franky had also gained admittance
to the club of which there were, evidently, about 50 activie members.

The girls were invited, but never forced, to come back. The
rules remained the same as far as blind-folds and bondage were
concerned, but lesbianism was also expected and encouraged.

When we were done, we were re-blindfolded and led outside
to the car. I could tell by the coolness that it was already evening
and that I had been fucking for seven or eight hours and not the
two or three that I thought.

Though I had washed, I felt I still smelled like a whore-house.
I liked it and wanted to do it again. But judging by the shakiness of
my legs, I guessed it would have to wait for a few weeks.

When we got close to town, Don let us take off our blind-folds
and put on our clothes. “So Sue,” I said to my friend, “Does your
brother fuck you?”

“All the time,” she said to me. “Interested in a threesome?”

“Absolutely,” I said.

We did go and see the fireworks that night to be followed by
some more intimate fireworks later.

Father Ryan was momentarily quiet as he considered the long
story I just told to him. “Child,” he finally said to me in that
quiet, confession-box voice of his, “I’m afraid I have to consider
what you penance will be. Please leave now and wait for me in the
back room of the church while I consider this matter.”

I was perplexed by this because confession is supposed to be
a private thing and I didn’t like the idea of Father Ryan having
a face to attach to the story but now, several weeks after the
gang-bang, my conscience was really bothering me. I did as I
was told and went into the back room where the priests dressed
before mass.

Several minutes later, Father Ryan walked into the room
and looked at me. I felt shame for my sins. “My child,” he said.
“I have considered the matter and now you must kneel before your
God.”

I did as I was told kneeling on the thin carpet that lined
the floor. Father Ryan stood in front of me and, almost in one
motion, unzipped his fly, whipped out his cock, and shoved it
in my mouth. His cock was huge. In fact I recognized that cock.
It was number one’s! Father Ryan was my Superman!

I opened my mouth wider to accept his delicious cock.

–