Cute Girls

The Meeting

*Chapter 1*

Alone, I sat, waiting for her arrival. Six o’clock she had said, but it was already ten past that. “Maybe she’s just running late,” I told myself. “Maybe she’s having trouble finding the place. What is she doesn’t come? Oh, Christ! What if she does!” I drained the vodka in my left hand, considering a third.

It had been three nights since the last telephone call, the second in total. Dianne had sounded better than I had dared hope, that first time a fortnight ago. I could sense the command in her voice, strength in every carefully chosen word. However, there was a tenderness too, a magical warmth and sincerity. It made me ache for her, as had every word she had typed across the ether for the past fourteen months. Well, today was the day! Tonight we would finally meet. Dianne had said that her flight would get in at 5:30. I wish she had let me pick her up. We would already have been together! Probably best this way, though. We both hated airports, that much we knew of each other.

Six-fifteen. I lit a cigarette. “Christ! My second packet today!” Getting dark outside, I turned on the porch light, immediately losing the advantage view of the driveway, lit now by the few remaining rays of autumnal sunlight. “No matter, I’ll see her headlights. Wait! Is that her now?” There was a late model Falcon slowing on the road. I couldn’t quite make out the driver. “No, it’s gone.”

I had never been so nervous in my entire life! It had been fun chatting over the net this past year, but this was so serious! Still, I knew I was hers now. I had been forever. I knew it as much as she did. Why should I have been nervous? We knew as much about each other as any two people possibly could. Anticipation though… I could’ve burst!

Headlights in the drive! “It’s her, it must be.” I saw the shiny metallic black Magna, lit in all its glory. “Yes, it suits her.” I saw her now, as the headlights were switched off. She was finishing a mobile call as I approach the car. She looked at me mid-sentence and beamed a perfect smile, waving as one would to an old familiar friend. The call ended, the motor was silenced, the door opened…

“Dianne?”

“Jill!” she exclaimed while alighting the vehicle. “It’s sooo good to finally meet you, hon!” She was just a little taller than I had imagined. Perfectly dressed, she wore a black blazer that showed just a hint of the mauve camisole top hidden within. Just above the knee black skirt, black stockings and short heeled, open toed black dress shoes. She was beautiful. We embraced. Long, hard, desperate not to let go. “Oh, Dianne,” I said, tears prominent in my voice; “I can’t believe you’re finally here!”

“I know, hon,” Dianne caressed my hair, sobbing sweetly; “I’m just so glad to be here”

“Come inside, Dianne,” I whispered after a few moments, mindful of a curious neighbor. “Mrs. Dorset across the street will have a heart attack!” The joke lightened the tension. Dianne wiped a tear from my face and we began to collect her things from the car. I mused at the inventory: overnight bag, handbag, a bottle of indeterminate contents wrapped in a Booze Brothers paper bag and one small, loose parcel. A small box, gift wrapped in pink with a black bow. “Not yet!” Dianne proclaimed, snatching the parcel away with a wicked grin.

We made our way through the hallway and into the lounge room, setting her things down on one of two overstuffed club sofas. Brilliant deep-cobalt Sanderson linen; my favorite. “Make yourself at home, love” I said, ushering Dianne to it’s mate, diagonally opposite. Inspecting the contents of the paper bag, my heart skipped just a little. One single bottle of Yellow Glen vintage champagne. One of the very first things I had ever told her, it wasn’t so much that she had brought it, more the fact she had remembered it was my favorite. “You sweetheart!” I exclaimed holding up the bottle as reference to the statement, “Let me get a couple of glasses.” When I returned from the kitchen, the vision before me made my heart melt. There, sitting in my loungeroom, on my favorite sofa was the woman I had never met, but truly loved with all my heart, perched with all the grace and confidence I always knew she had. Dianne looked like she belonged and always had.

Catching myself in such a state of melancholy, I moved toward her and took my place just as I had done hundreds of times before online; at her feet, on the floor, looking up into her eyes. Our online relationship was finally manifesting itself in real life.

“Want some?” I asked, looking up at Dianne and gesturing to the champagne now waiting on the coffee table. “Not yet hon,” came the reply as she guided my shoulders, encouraging me into a kneeling position that faced her directly. Dianne cradled my face in her warm, soft hands. With one hand on her knee and the other lightly touching hers, I looked into my Mistress’ face for the first time. The atmosphere was suddenly electric and I felt a desire growing from deep within. The gaze from her somewhat sad yet piercing brown eyes felt as though it might burn right through me, into my very soul. We just sat there for what seemed an eternity, taking each other in. I felt giddy from her scent; fresh and not unlike sandalwood. Finally I was beginning to truly feel the power she had over me. I was lost. I unconsciously moistened my lips, which did not go unnoticed.

Dianne leaned down toward me, pulling me a little closer still. The moment I had spent so many sleepless nights thinking about was finally upon me. Slowly, ever so slowly, our lips met. The bolt of electricity that hurtled through me made my heart skip. We melted into each other. I felt the tears returning in sympathy of such a beautiful moment. Dianne’s lips were so very soft against my own. I was so totally absorbed by her beauty, her scent, her touch. As I felt her tongue beckoning to mine, I opened my mouth a little wider, receptive to the invitation. Our tongues danced and entwined into their own embrace. It was the single most delicious moment of my life and I never wanted it to end.

Suddenly, Dianne pulled away. Eyes still closed, my hungry mouth tried to follow but found only a void. I opened my eyes to find Dianne sitting back on the sofa, smiling. The smile told me she was pleased, but there was a wicked twinkle in her eye. “So,” she said, matter-of-factly, “How about that drink then?” My response came quickly: “You teasing bitch!” The wickedness spread across Dianne’s face. “You know I like to tease, Winter…” We both burst into laughter and I squeezed her hand.

With drinks poured and cigarettes lit, we began talking. So much to say! We were like two schoolgirls who hadn’t seen each other all summer and needed to catch up. How was the flight, isn’t the plane food terrible, where is your daughter, is this her picture…We talked though the Yellow Glen and dented a bottle of bourbon. All the while, the little pink parcel on the opposite sofa stared at me, daring me to guess it’s contents.

*Chapter 2*

It was approaching midnight, and while I wanted to just sit and talk forever, staring into those beautiful brown eyes, I knew that any more time and any more bourbon would leave Dianne’s first night with me a let down in memory. I took her glass and set it down next to mine on the coffee table, retired her half smoked cigarette to the ashtray and stood up, taking her hand with me. “C’mon” I said, smiling sweetly. Dianne stood and proceeded to follow me through the lounge toward the hall. “Just a sec, love,” she said, doubling back to retrieve the mysterious parcel, “Can’t forget this!” That wicked grin again!

As I turned on the bedroom light, Dianne audibly gasped. I had gone to great lengths and some expense to impress my Mistress with my femininity. The Elizabethan queen-size four-poster bed had been trimmed with a cream broiderie anglais bed spread that fell to an inch above the floor all around. Six linen half-sized tasseled pillows in alternating dusty pink and deep cream impressed the warmth of the regally engraved headboard. The matching side tables were dressed in small cream table cloths, in matching style to the bedspread. Each featured a single red rose in short, elegant Edwardian crystal vases. The crystal did not match in period, but the error was indiscernible and the desired effect complete. The North facing bay window was draped in delicate cream lace curtains, stunning against the deep dusty-pink walls. These had been pulled aside so as to afford a view of the rear courtyard which was spotlit, showing off the late autumn blaze of maple trees. The room was fit for a princess and that is precisely how I felt in the company of my Mistress.

“Oh, Jill, it’s a gorgeous room…,” Dianne said as she entered. Looking back to me, smiling, she completed her sentence: “I think we’re going to have a lot of fun here, you and I.” She set the parcel on the bed and took her place beside it, kicking off her shoes.

I perfectly understood the semantics of our relationship; ‘Carla’, Dianne’s online name, was the Mistress and I, as ‘Winter’ was her submissive. I had given myself to her completely online, in body, mind and soul. It was my chosen duty to obey her, to respect her and in return she had given me an intimacy I had never before known. My only wish, as I had told her so many times, was to have her wish of me. And she did. Online, we soared. Carla had taken me to new heights of sexual gratification without even a single touch, commanding my hands from thousands of miles away.

But tonight, just tonight, I was Jill and the woman I had loved but never physically known was before me. It was my turn to love her. Slipping off my own shoes, I approached Dianne, who was clearly sizing me up. I had several times pointed out similarities to myself in the various avatars I wore online, but this had been the first time she had laid eyes on me. As she looked at me, I saw her eyes take me in, working their way up from my feet to my face. I paused to let her. I saw her notice how tall I really was, the way my slacks hugged my thighs and told of the suppleness within. Her eyes shifted then to my slender waist and I knew she wanted to hold me there. She continued her study and her eyes rested at my ample bosom, knowing that soon enough it would be naked before her. Finally, her eyes returned to meet mine. With a girlish twirl, I sought her approval. “You like?” Dianne smiled slowly. “Yes baby, very much.” With a curtsy, I thanked her.

Standing now before her, I bent down and kissed her gently on the lips. More confident with the benefit of time spent and the liquor, I encouraged Dianne to lay down, beneath me while half kneeling above her. All the while, still french kissing. It was intoxicating. Dianne sidled further up the bed and turned so that she now lay with her head against the pillows. Needing no further encouragement, I followed, now fully kneeling above her. It seemed just a little odd for me to be in the dominant position, but I needed to redefine the level of intimacy I sought in the real world. Quietly, Dianne knew this and allowed me to proceed, enjoying the attention from her devotee.

I just couldn’t get enough of her face! We kissed long and passionately, breaking only so I might kiss all of it. I offered Dianne hot sweet kisses against her cheek, her neck and her ears, biting softly with just my lips. Dianne had her arms around the back of my neck, pulling me close and caressing me gently. I felt I had so much passion for her and it couldn’t get out fast enough! But I moved slowly, seductively, savoring each moment.

Supporting myself with one hand, kissing Dianne tenderly on her neck, my other hand traced lightly down her face and neck toward her breast. We were both breathing much heavier now, as though to pull each other in by any means. Brushing past her right breast, I slowly began to undo the buttons fastening her blazer. Slowly; one, then two, then three. Lifting myself away, I sat upright on top of Dianne and gently separated the two halves of her blazer, exposing the camisole she wore and her womanly cleavage. It was my turn to feast upon her. I’d dreamt of how Dianne might look, but there’s certainly no clarity like reality. How sexy she looked, her ample bosom heaving with each breath. I caught her gaze, watching me enjoy her. For the first time, it was Dianne waiting for me to act…

Rather clumsily, we got Dianne out of her blazer. It’s never a fluid motion like it is in Hollywood and we laughed at ourselves. Resuming the status quo, with me still half-sitting on top, I decided to be sexy for my Mistress. In a rather coy fashion, I tossed my hair to one side and looked at Dianne with a most demure expression. Slowly, without shifting my gaze, I began to unbutton my own shirt, starting with the sleeves. When Dianne reached up to assist, I gently forced her hands back to rest on my thighs. She understood that she was just to watch for a while. I continued to undress, panting lightly, lips slightly apart, pouting innocently.

I knew Dianne was enjoying the scene. I watched her as she tried to catch a glimpse of what was still hidden.

“”Soon, sweet Mistress,”" I thought as the last of the buttons gave way. The shirt still in place, just a thin line of my skin showing through, I ran my fingers down my own neck, curling them around until my fingernails came to rest in the center of my breasts. I slowly pulled the shirt apart, exposing a powder-blue full-cup lace bra. Still gazing at Dianne, I lightly traced the circles of my breasts with my fingers, allowing the softest moan to escape my lips. My nipples were already enlarged and I knew she was aroused by their prominence. Unclasping the bra from behind, I allowed it to fall away easily to one side of Dianne. Their I sat, naked from waist up, showing Dianne for the first time that that she already owned. I knew she was staring at my nipples. Large, elongated and hard. My nipples were most definitely a powerhouse of stimulation for me. They protruded the better part of an inch from my areola. A former lover had once nicknamed my nipples “antennae”. I didn’t go in for naming body parts much though, I just liked to use them. “Touch them,” I invited. Dianne reached one hand up and placed it lightly onto my left breast. The electricity from her touch made me gasp. To Dianne surprise, my nipple grew a little further again under her touch and she pulled away to see the effect. “Oh, sweetheart,” she proclaimed, “you are beautiful.”

With that, Dianne reached her face forward in search of my breast. As she took me in her mouth, gently suckling, I leaned forward, making it easier. “”All for you, Mistress,”" I whispered under my breath as I cradled her head into my breast, closing my eyes in the wake of this newly found bliss, “”all for you…” ”

*Chapter 3*

I could have taken that all night! Dianne knew that I liked rough treatment on my nipples and she wasn’t about to disappoint me. “God that’s good, Dianne,” I told her, offering encouragement by grabbing fistfuls of her hair. Dianne sucked me so hard, I thought my nipples might come away in her mouth. The pain was exquisite. She instinctively knew, as only another woman could, when to withdraw and focus on the opposite side. The fire within me was growing rapidly. I began to ache with the desire for more. I was so wet between my legs now that any other circumstance would have been embarrassing. “”God, let’s do this!” ”

I pulled back and knelt between Dianne legs. “Let’s get some of this gear off, shall we?” I was already tugging at her skirt. Dianne accommodated me by undoing the button and lowering the short zip at the side of her skirt. She then raised herself a little from the bed, allowing me to easily pull the skirt away from her legs, from there finding a home next to her blazer, already asleep on the floor. The removal of Dianne’s thigh-length stockings was something else. I’m not sure which one of us enjoyed it more. Over theatricising just a little, I slowly, yet hungrily lowered them, kissing every inch of skin as it was exposed. By the time I had finished the first and returned up for its mate, the scent emanating from between Dianne legs had grown in intensity and there was some obvious moisture on her knickers. I lightly kissed her there. Dianne gasped. “I’ll be back for you,” I informed her sweet smelling cunt and proceeded to kiss my way down Dianne’s other thigh, removing the hosiery as I went.

Left in just her underwear, Dianne looked truly beautiful. I took a moment to admire her body as she lay there with one hand flat across her stomach, the other by her side. She had a satisfied grin on her face and I knew that she was pleased thus far by my performance. I made my way upward again, starting at her knees. Soft, sweet kisses up her inner thigh as Dianne slightly raised and parted her knees, allowing me greater access. Higher still, leaving her in that delicious state of not wanting it to end, yet wanting things to advance. Her skin was so soft and I wanted to eat it all up. I gently nibbled and sucked on that most delicate of skin around her lower bikini line. “Mmmm, that’s nice babe,” whispered Dianne as she ran her fingers through my hair. I began to kiss her through her knickers, hardening my mouth in allowance for the barrier between us. Dianne raised herself a little toward me and I took the opportunity to lower her panties over her hips and down her legs. I noticed that Dianne didn’t trim or shave, but also that she didn’t need to. She was beautiful as she was. Her neat, short pubic hair was considerably darker than the wavy light-brown hair that framed her face and it made me wonder… but only for a second.

Exposed finally to me, Dianne scent was intoxicating. Returning my face to the source, I just kissed her for a few moments. Slow, lingering kisses on and around her clitoris and vagina. Dianne didn’t utter a word, but we both knew she didn’t need to. Her sighs and gasps were instruction enough for anybody in tune enough to read them. Using only my tongue, I began to massage her now hardened clitoris. Slowly and with some pressure, I traced it’s outline around and around. By now I had Dianne’ thighs firmly in my grasp and I felt them tighten.

I moved lower, teasing the entrance to her vagina with the tip of my tongue. She tasted so sweet and I was so very hungry for her. “Oh god, sweetheart,” Dianne voice was louder now, “that’s sooo gooood!” I began flicking my tongue in and out while moving a single finger to her beautiful clit, rubbing it gently. As I felt her begin to tremble I drove my tongue in deeper and rubbed harder…

“Enough!” cried Dianne, “Stop a minute, babe.” As she sat up, she was breathing very hard and trying to regain some composure. She held me around my neck and just breathed for a minute as we sat with our heads resting against each others. She pulled away and we looked into each others eyes. She saw the proud grin on my face that said “See what I can do?”

“That felt great, hon,” she said, still a little breathless. Checking her watch, she quickly added “…and now I want you to do something else for me.”

Dianne cocked her head toward the pink package, now barely teetering on the edge of the bed. “Open it.” Like present time on Christmas day, I jumped up from my kneeling position and sat cross legged on the bed. Taking the small parcel, I fumbled frantically with the ribbon. Finally negotiating it, I ripped the wrapping off and opened the box.

I gasped loudly when I saw the contents, looked at my Mistress and smiled…

*Chapter 4*

We had done many things together, my Mistress and I, while online. She had introduced me to a completely foreign world of domination and submission. It was a world I knew nothing about before meeting Carla, but one that I secretly wanted to explore. The desire for submissive commitment that I harboured in real life relationships had manifested into ideas I never thought I was capable of. Carla had used various ‘props’ in our online private-room sessions consisting largely of leather and stainless steel items that I had previously abhorred as toys for the mentally deranged. She showed me otherwise; that with care, understanding and above all else, trust, these things could be used to express a beauty that belied their popular reputations.

Keeping his finger embedded in her cunt, Chris stood up. He stood over Miss Harding’s naked butt while shoving his finger deep into her cunt. Her cunt was so hot and wet. He explored the soft, wet, tight flesh with his finger. When he was deep inside he pulled back out, and this time pushed two fingers in.

“Oh Jack,” Miss Harding whispered, her voice a bit hoarse and broken with passion.

Chris fucked her with his two fingers, feeling her get wetter and wetter as he screwed and plunged his fingers in, out, and around her cunt. Her pussy made sloshing and slurping noises. Miss Harding’s legs danced with pleasure, her butt squirmed with passion. Chris never imagined that a girl could act so wanton, perhaps this was how girls got when they got as old as Miss Harding. She was a teacher, his teacher, and now she was dancing with lust on his fingers.

“Do it Jack, do it to me,” Miss Harding moaned.

Chris suddenly stopped. He removed his fingers. There was another moment of silence. Miss Harding opened her eyes, wondering what was next. She then heard the sound of “Mr. Peters’” zipper going down. She closed her eyes, waiting for his entry.

Chris removed his stiff, erect cock from his pants. He was burning with arousal. He knew that he would not last long. This was just too darn exciting. He brought the head of his dick to her soaked, open cunt.

Miss Harding felt the touch of the engorged head of his dick on the lips of her cunt. She raised her butt up higher, giving herself to him like a dog in heat.

He plunged into her cunt, feeling the tight wetness of her fleshy cunt enveloping his dick, wrapping itself around every inch of his cock. He was in. He was in the cunt of the beautiful and sexy Miss Harding. He was fucking his biology teacher from behind, and she was taking it like an animal in heat.

He bent down over her and grasped her boobs through her blouse.

“Yes, Mr. Peters,” she gasped in excitement. “Do it, yes, do it,” she moaned as she felt his hands firmly grasp and crush her large breasts. His cock was not as big as she had imagined Jack would be, but still, he was a very sexy and handsome man (and clearly strong and assertive), and now he was giving her what she wanted, and in a way that was so dirty, so wrong, but so very sexy.

Chris used his hold on her boobs to maintain his balance as he plunged in and out of her cunt. He felt so manly, so powerful, like a rutting bull, as he fucked Miss Harding from behind. Her cunt felt so good around his cock, so wet and tight. This was so much better than jerking off. The feel of her juicy cunt was so complete, so enveloping, so gripping. He grabbed tightly on her breasts, crushing them with his hands. He could feel her nipples stiffening in his grip.

Miss Harding had rarely been fucked in such an animalistic way. She felt like a helpless member of a harem whose turn it was to be screwed by the sultan, or perhaps even more appropriate, like a female bitch member of a wild herd of dogs, being used this evening by the alpha male whether she wanted it or not. She felt like she was being used, even abused, but she was also so terribly excited and aroused. She enjoyed it. She felt ashamed to admit it, but it was true. She spread her legs as wide as she could, which wasn’t so easy with the panties gripping her knees, but she could help by pushing back hard against his cock each time he plunged in. She felt like telling him to fuck her, to fuck her hard, but she couldn’t get herself to speak like that. Her guttural and raunchy thrusts and swings of her hips, and her gasping and panting moans of excitement, spoke much more loudly than words. She clasped down as hard as she could with her cunt, trying to grip and massage his cock as much as possible. She knew in just a few more minutes she would explode in a thunderous orgasm.

Chris felt the muscles of her cunt clasping his cock as he worked it in and out. His own orgasm was just seconds away. He could slow it down, try to make it last longer, but he knew that with every second that passed the possibility that Mr. Peters would return increased exponentially. He instead increased the rapidity of his thrusts.

He let go of her breasts and stood straight up. He grasped hold of the cheeks of her buns and rapidly pounded her butt with his hips. Each thrust hit her ass with a resounding slap. He could see the cheeks shudder and wiggle with each collision, and then the intense feeling of the inescapable impending orgasm. He pushed in hard as his first gush of sperm exploded from his cock into her cunt. He slowed his strokes as he basked in the feeling of the spurts shooting from his balls through his dick and out the head into her cunt. It shot inside her with substantial force, like a pressure hose blasting hot cum deep down into her hole.

Miss Harding felt his orgasm. She felt most every squirt shooting inside of her, and the increasing wetness inside her cunt as it filled with his wet, hot cum. She enjoyed the sensation but she also had to admit disappointment, at least to herself. She had not yet cum herself, and he was already finished. She had hoped that he would last much longer. It really had not been much time at all. She knew that it was unusually exciting sex, novel and unique to say the least, but she wished that he would have had better self-control. She was surprised that he didn’t have more staying power. Oh well, she relaxed and enjoyed the feeling of his pulsating, throbbing cock in her cunt as he jettisoned his cum.

When he was done, Chris paused a moment to catch his breath. His hands were moist with perspiration and he could feel his cock soaked with the wetness of her cunt and his own cum. He pulled out his cock, bringing with it a considerable amount of their juices, a good proportion of which flowed down her thigh, across her nylons.

Miss Harding smiled and said breathlessly, “You made quite a mess there, Mr. Peters, are you going to clean me up?”

Chris didn’t say anything. He quickly put his cock back into his pants. Miss Harding heard him zip up. She waited for him to unlock the pillory. There was instead silence. She thought she heard footsteps. Maybe he was going across the room to get the key? “What are you doing, Jack?” she asked. She then heard the click of the clasp being turned on the door. “Jack?” she asked again. She heard the door open, the sound of him leaving, and then the door closing again.

“Jack!” she said more loudly. What was he doing, she wondered. Why did he just leave? Why wasn’t he explaining himself? She tried again to free herself from the pillory but any effort was simply fruitless. She couldn’t understand why he would have left. It’s possible that he went elsewhere to get the key but there was no reason for him not to explain this to her.

In fact, she now realized that he might not have said anything to her the whole time. She went back through her mind everything that had just happened, from the moment he entered the room to the moment he came in her vagina. Recalling the past few minutes was itself arousing. She had enjoyed it a great deal. She was reminded again of how he left her just short of her own orgasm. She clutched her thighs together in frustrated arousal. But, she couldn’t recall what, if anything, he had ever said.

As soon as Chris left the room he dashed down the hall to the front of the building where Ron was waiting for him. Both Chris and Ron had appointments with Mr. Peters. Chris was to meet with him first, followed by Ron. He had planned to tell Ron how it went before he had to meet with him. He now had much better news to tell.

He told Ron about Miss Harding, what he did, and that she was still locked in the pillory, just waiting for more sex. He told her how she had thought it was Mr. Peters and how much she had enjoyed it. He urged him to take his own turn.

Ron, however, was reluctant. Chris had been in his office for so long that Mr. Peters would probably arrive at any second. Chris, however, told him that he would wait for him just inside of the building’s entrance. He would be able to see Mr. Peters for quite some distance down the sidewalk before he even got to the building. If he saw him coming back, he would run back down the hall and knock on the door, letting Ron know that it was time to get out. Mr. Peters’ office was at the far corner of the front hallway, and they could easily make their escape around the corner and out the back door before he even got to the front steps of the building. There would be plenty of time.

The chance of having sex with Miss Harding was difficult for Ron to resist. Just the thought of it was stimulating. He could feel his cock swelling in his slacks. He recalled the previous day when she had played with his erection while he snuggled against her breasts (see Chapter 9). He got more aroused.

“Yea, ok, you wait right up here, by the door, and keep a good look out.” He smiled at the thought of what he was about to do.

Chris gave him important warnings. “Don’t ever say anything, don’t let her know who you are, and don’t take long. Get in and get out quickly, of her, as well as his office,” Chris joked.

Ron patted him on the back and took off to Mr. Peters’ office. When he arrived, he first stopped to listen. He couldn’t hear anything inside. He carefully, quietly, opened the door.

Chris had been right. Bent over by Mr. Peters’ desk was Miss Harding, still trapped in the pillory, bent over from the waist, her skirt tossed over her back, her naked butt and cunt fully exposed to his view. She was a beautiful woman. Most every male student had a crush on her, and now he was looking at her bare white round bottom, ready and willing to be fucked, and to be fucked by him.

She was moving her legs and feet around. Her panties had by now fallen to the floor. She realized that there was no point in just leaving them wrapped around her ankles. That would only just add to the embarrassment if someone, or actually someone else, entered the room. She kicked and struggled to get them from around her ankles. Ron smiled at the sight. Her struggles made the naked cheeks of her bottom wiggle and shake, occasionally giving him better peeks at her cunt and even her butt hole.

He sneaked into the room and carefully shut the door. He slowly and quietly turned the clasp to lock it. Locking the door was no defense against Mr. Peters but it might at least stop someone else from entering the room. He silently crept up to the naked bottom of Miss Harding, jiggling and prancing in an erotic display as she worked at her panties.

By the time he reached her, she had gotten the panties off of her ankles and was trying to maneuver them around to the front of the pillory. She wasn’t too sure why she was doing this but it was the only bit of modesty over which she had any control. She was also slowly coming to the realization that it might not have in fact been Jack Peters that had just had sex with her.

Ron paused to enjoy the show. Miss Harding’s buns were delectable, so round, luscious, and inviting. He crouched down to consider every detail as she worked the panties around the pillory. The lifting and sliding of her leg continued to give him nice peeks of her womanly slit and at times even her rosebud. He reached between his legs and stroked his growing erection. He couldn’t believe he was actually looking right at Miss Harding’s naked cunt. She was showing him virtually everything. This was going to be such good fun. He noticed the remnants of Chris’ cum, still leaking down her leg. He leaned in closer, gripping his hard cock through his pants.

Miss Harding was concentrating on her panties, not wanting to think any further about what just happened. Suddenly, however, she thought that she felt something, someone’s breath, on her butt. Her eyes widened in surprise. She froze in place.

Ron noticed her tension. He reached out and gently placed his hand on one of her cheeks.

“Oh my!” Miss Harding exclaimed. “Who is that?! Is it you again? Please, please who is it?”

Ron extended his other hand, grasped both cheeks, and spread them open, revealing to his lustful eyes the red furrows and grooves of her anus.

“No!” she yelped. Ron instantly let go of her cheeks, a moment of fear that she might scream in panic.

“Please don’t do anything. Just, please, let me out of this. I won’t tell anyone anything about it.” She was quite sincere about that. All of this was so embarrassing that she didn’t want anybody to know about it. She thought of screaming for help but that could just make matters worse.

Ron was rubbing his stiff cock through his pants. There was no way that he was going to let her go before he had his turn. Even if he didn’t have sex with her, he wasn’t sure that she would keep her word and, besides, once she knew it was him she would probably figure out that the first boy had been Chris. He realized though that he better hurry up. He unzipped his pants.

Miss Harding heard the zipper go down. Feelings of anxiety overwhelmed her. “Not again, please. I promise I will won’t press charges if you just unlock me.”

Ron looked at the lock. There was no key in it. He probably couldn’t let her go even if he wanted to. He pulled his hard erect cock from his pants. He gave it a few strokes to stiffen it further. It seemed like he had never felt this aroused, this hard. He leaned into her and placed the swollen bulb of his cock against the wet, soft lips of her cunt.

“Oh my,” Miss Harding moaned. “Not again.” She felt him plunge into her cunt, her warm, wet lips spreading to accept the head and then closing around his shaft.

Ron was delirious with pleasure. His cock was actually embedded in Miss Harding’s cunt. It felt so good, so warm, so wet. Even knowing that the wetness was due in part to Chris’ cum didn’t bother him. The most important truth was that her cunt was grasping and massaging every inch of his stiff dick. It was like his cock was wrapped tightly in warm, wet, silky softness. He plunged it in deeper, moaning in pleasure.

Miss Harding heard the moan. It was not a deeply masculine moan, not like the moan of a grown man. She also felt that his cock wasn’t appreciably large. It’s not that faculty or staff naturally had larger cocks than the students, but it reinforced her impression that he might be a student.

“Are you one of my students?” she gasped, in between the plunging of his cock..

Ron stopped. He didn’t say anything, but the fact that he stopped gave her the answer.

“You are, aren’t you?” Ron was frozen. He didn’t know what to do. He sure wasn’t going to admit to it but he couldn’t deny it either. He figured the best thing to do would be to finish and get out of there before she figured out anything else. He resumed the movement of his hips.

Miss Harding grunted and lurched as his hips banged against her butt. “Listen, young man, I, unh,” she exclaimed as he banged into her, “I promise I won’t tell your parents, the administration, anyone.” She paused, finding it hard to articulate her thoughts as she was being hammered from behind. “If you stop now, oh!, uh, please don’t continue to do this.”

Ron continued to fuck her.

“You must realize how embarrassing this is for me. Urrh. Oh my. Please, after all, I’m your teacher.” She dropped her head, feeling herself getting wetter, her breath quickening in pace. “It’s just so humiliating.”

Actually, this only made it more arousing for Ron. He felt his cock swell further with her submissive pleading. He pushed farther inside and leaned down over her.

Miss Harding then tried to assert her authority. “Now stop that young man, I’m warning you. You can get into serious trouble.” Ron almost felt like laughing at that. Miss Harding was trying to order him around as he had her bent over, trapped in a pillory, and was fucking her hard from behind.

Miss Harding also recognized that she hardly could assert much authority with her naked ass exposed and her cunt being used.

He brought his hand around her thighs, under her body, and touched her clit. It was all wet with her juices. He began to stroke, pinch, and rub it with his fingers.

“Oh goodness, don’t touch me there. Please.” Miss Harding began to pant in arousal. She tried to not let herself get excited again, but, it was too late. There were a number of the boys with whom she would be very willing to have sex. She already had sex with a few of them. She enjoyed seducing the young men. Seducing them was of course much different than been taken advantage of like this, but there was still a part of this that was uniquely alluring. She would not have minded if it had been Jack Peters. The fact that it was one of her students instead, if that was in fact true, was much more debasing, but it was the indignity that was also so exciting and arousing. She closed her eyes and felt his fingers stroking and massaging her cunt while his young cock moved in and out of her cunt. She gave up and let herself enjoy it. She clenched the muscles of her cunt around his young cock.

“Just don’t tell anyone you did this, please? I’ll let you do it if you just keep it a secret.” Ron found that to be an odd statement as she seemed to be in no position really to negotiate. However, perhaps she was just indicating that she would keep it a secret if he did as well. He patted her bottom a couple of times with his left hand, as an effort to let her know that he agreed.

She confessed. “It does feel good but it’s so embarrassing, I hope you at least appreciate that,” she pleaded.

He again patted her bottom as he continued to feel and massage her clit. Her cunt felt so good around his cock, so hot and wet, and even tight. He had imagined that a woman’s cunt would be big, that he would hardly be able to feel anything, and that she wouldn’t feel anything, but instead she felt so nicely tight, like a wet soft glove that was snuggly wrapped around his dick. He let go of her clit.

Miss Harding sighed in disappointment. She had wanted to cum so badly this time. She was now meeting his movements with her own. Clamping onto his cock as much as she could. It was clear that he wasn’t at all large but he was still plenty large enough.

However, the movements of his cock also ceased. “Please don’t stop,” surprising even herself that she now wanted the stranger to fuck her. She then felt his fingers on the front of her blouse. Her eyes widened in surprise and worry. She felt each button being opened. He was removing her blouse?

He wanted to feel the big boobs of Miss Harding. After he unbuttoned her blouse he pulled it out from the waist of her skirt and brought his hands underneath. He moved up the skin of her back. He reached the clasp of her bra. He struggled with it a bit, but after a few clumsy efforts, he unclasped her bra. Miss Harding whimpered in apprehension. Ron leaned back down on her and again brought his hands around beneath her, this time to pull the cups away from her large breasts, allowing them to droop freely beneath her.

Miss Harding blushed with this new invasion of her body. Her breasts now hung pendulously beneath her as she was bent over and trapped in the pillory. She felt his young hands grab onto them, exploring their bulbous softness that was now exaggerated by having them so loosely hanging down from her body.

Ron squeezed and rubbed them. He played with their bulbous softness. They were so large, like big water balloons of flesh, swinging beneath her. He bounced them in his hands and swung them left and right. He smiled, wanting to laugh with the pleasure and fun. He couldn’t escape the image that he was milking the fleshy balloons of Miss Harding.

Miss Harding was blushing profusely with his discourteous, obscene, and infantile manipulations. His hands were not those of a mature lover caressing her in an affectionate seduction. They felt like a boy urgently exploring, manipulating, playing with her breasts like they were toys. But, still, her nipples stiffened with his tough and she was glad that he had resumed the stroking of his cock in and out of her cunt. She sighed, letting herself enjoy the feelings of this young man mounting her from behind, fucking her like she was his dirty sex slave. She began to move her hips to match his own.

Ronnie gripped hard on her big boobs. He wasn’t planning on telling anyone but it would be hard to keep this secret. He might be the only student in school that had ever felt the big boobs of Miss Harding. Many had talked about it. Now he firmly had them in his hands, squeezing and milking them, and, better still, pounding her cunt with his dick. He began to rut her like a bull. Grabbing her boobs tightly to hold on and pounding hard into her cunt, openly panting in excitement. As did she. The only other sounds in the room were the slapping of her butt with his hips and the slushing of her cunt.

He quickened his pace but then froze in tension, feeling the surge of his orgasm sweep across his body, through his balls, and out of his cock. He spurt load after load of hot cum into her cunt. The waves of passion were tremendous. He almost felt like he would faint as the sloppy spurts of cum burst from his dick.

Miss Harding groaned in disappointment. This one had also cum too soon. She felt his young hard dick twitching in her cunt and spurting his thick hot load deep inside her. She felt his hands grip even more tightly on her breasts as he buried his face deep into the back of her blouse as he gushed his wads of cum.

Ron panted hard as he spurted his remaining shots of cum. He was cumming inside of a woman, releasing his hot cum into the cunt of Miss Harding. He was delirious with pleasure. It felt so intense, so nice.

When he was done he let go of her breasts and stood up. He pulled out of her cunt, bringing out again another load of cum that flowed down her thighs and stockings.

Miss Harding dropped her head in embarrassment and disgust as she felt the sticky cum drain out of her and down her leg. She felt so hot and frustrated. “Please, could you stay for just a bit longer?”

Ron didn’t understand. There was silence.

“I mean, well, please don’t make me say it, just, well, um.” Her voice lowered to a whisper. “Play with me for a bit. I’m so close. I just need you to give me more time.” She felt so humiliated to ask him to masturbate her, to even plead with him, but she wanted to cum so badly.

By now Ron had buckled up his slacks and was preparing to leave. The thought of staying longer to make Miss Harding cum was tempting, to say the least. He would love to make a grown woman orgasm just with his fingers, and, to top it off, it would be the beautiful Miss Harding, pleading for him to do it as he fucked her with his fingers.

But, no, he had to go, it was just too risky. He looked around the room. He did feel bad for her. He considered the possibility of unlocking her before he left. He knew that she would easily turn around and recognize him if he did so but it was a moot issue. There was no key in sight and he did not have the time to look for it. However, he did see a small flag on the front of Mr. Peters’ desk.

“Why aren’t you leaving? Are you looking for the key? I so hope so. I swear I won’t tell anyone if you let me go.” This was probably quite truthful. “I will even do it again, I will do even more. I can do a lot more if you let me go.” She was again being truthful. Assuming that the person wasn’t so repugnant, that it was indeed one of her cute young students, she would be more than willing.

Ron though was contemplating the small desk flag. He recalled Miss Harding sticking a thermometer up his butt. It gave him an idea. He pulled the flat from its little stand. It was essentially a stick with a flag the size of a large index card. He licked the end and parted the cheeks of Miss Harding with his empty hand.

“What are you doing? No, not there, please, don’t put your thing there.”

Ron paused to enjoy the sight of her sweet asshole, opening and clenching in nervous anticipation.

“Please, not there, that would be so disgusting, so bad. Just use your fingers on me. I promise it won’t take long.” Miss Harding even spread her legs farther apart and lifted up her ass, trying to entice him with the sight of her hot wet cunt.

Ron brought the flag stick to her asshole and carefully inserted it through the tight sphincter.

Miss Harding tried to turn her head so see what he was doing. Her eyes were wide open in confusion. What was he doing? That was no penis. That wasn’t even a finger.

“What are you doing? What is that?”

Ron pushed it in a number of inches, being careful not to hurt her. He got much of the stick down deep inside her. He then stood back to enjoy the sight. As she wiggled around, trying to figure out what was stuck inside of her the flag waved in the air. He smiled at the sight, his cock now definitely feeling aroused.

He was a young man. He could do it again. But, no, he had to get out of there.

“No, wait, please don’t go,” she pleaded as she heard him walking away. “You can do it again. I will do a lot more. You can even put it in my bottom.” Her butt was prancing and humping, trying to get his attention, the flag waving with her frantic movements. “Anything, just let me go, please.”

He paused at the door for one last look. With regret but a fond memory, he unlocked the door and got out. He waved to Chris who was waiting at the front of the hall. Chris quickly moved down the hall and they both went to the end, turned the corner, and headed out of the building through the back door. They headed straight to Bob’s house. They knew that there would be no time for him to have a turn but they did have to tell him. He was their best friend. Ron felt a bit bad about this, as he had promised Miss Harding that he wouldn’t tell anyone, but Chris had made no promise and, besides, they could make Bobbie swear to secrecy. Ron looked forward to seeing his biology teacher in class the next week. His cock swelled at the thought.

Miss Harding sighed deeply with the realization that it had happened again. She felt so used, even abused. She had enjoyed quite a bit of it, but she had not yet had an orgasm herself, and all of the fantasies and fucking had just left her so unfulfilled and frustrated. And, what was sticking in her butt?

She then realized. It was a desk flag. She could feel the small swath of cloth touching her naked bottom. How embarrassing, as if it wasn’t bad enough to be so exposed to whomever entered the room. Now they would see her with a flag stuck up her bottom. Maybe she could push it out? She tried to force it out, as if she was going to the bathroom. However, with the first attempt she quickly stopped. The effort only made her want to pee and, worse still, she might in fact go poop right in Mr. Peters’ office. That would be exponentially worse than having the flag there.

When would he come back, she wondered. She then heard the door opening; opening once again. Not another student!?

Mr. Peters had returned from his appointment with Dean Jackson. He was feeling frustrated and annoyed. The Dean had indicated that Mr. Peters had his full support. Nevertheless, it was evident that the Dean was a bit apprehensive and was trying to get him to tone down his efforts. He did know that he was at times taking chances. Heck, having sex with Tina was clearly well past anything the school could possibly condone. Oh well, he had been through this before at Abberville. And, besides, his three daughters were coming to visit him this weekend. He had not seen them for quite some time and was looking forward to catching up on old times and refreshing their close bond as father and daughters.

Once he opened the door, he immediately forgot about the Dean and his daughters. There before him, a gorgeous woman, bent over, naked from the waist down; no, even more, her breasts as well hanging and swinging pendulously beneath her. His dick immediately swelled.

“Oh my, please, not again, who is it, please tell me,” she pleaded.

He recognized her voice. “Miss Harding?” Mr. Peters asked, tentatively. “Mr. Peters! Oh, finally, thank goodness it’s you.” Miss Harding was so relieved; her feelings of anxiety swept away. She tried to twist her head to see him; her legs springing in excitement, the flag jumping and waving with her agitated movements.

It was Miss Harding, Mr. Peters realized. The beautiful and sexy Miss Harding, presenting herself to him, displaying for him her naked buns and cunt. He adjusted his cock within his slacks to provide it more room to grow and appreciate what was being so provocatively displayed before him. And, what was that flag doing there? He stifled an urge to laugh but he had to smile. “Miss Harding, my goodness, what on earth happened to you? I am so sorry.” He moved instantly to remove the flag, protruding from her soft, full, white cheeks. His fingers grasped the stick.

“Yes, please, take that thing out, but, please, be careful. I think it’s in very far.”

Mr. Peters put his left hand on her left cheek, enjoying her softness, her curves. He slowly, carefully drew the flag stick from her rectum, moving much more slowly than was necessary, wanting the moment to last as long as possible. “I need to be careful not to hurt you.” He used his left hand to pull her cheek back, providing him with the opportunity to see, to inspect, the puckered lips of her asshole. He smiled as he watched the stick slowly emerge. Miss Harding even seemed to open a bit, trying to help him extract the flag.

“Oh Mr. Peters, this is so embarrassing.” She could feel his hand, his strong hand, on her cheek, and she knew where his eyes were looking. “Please don’t look at me like this.”

That was an opportunity that he was not going to deny himself. “Don’t worry, Miss Harding,” he said, reassuring her, but with a smile on his face. “What in the world happened here?” He pulled the flag out completely, watching her sphincter close shut behind it. He paused for some time to allow himself enjoy the sight, not letting go of her cheek, keeping it pulled open.

“It’s just been awful, Mr. Peters.” Her asshole seemed to wink and pucker as she excitedly spoke. “I was just looking at this thing and I, well, I was just curious. I wanted to see if it fit, you know, how it would feel.”

“You wanted to see how it would feel?” he asked, himself enjoying how her sweet bottom felt, wanting to see how all of her would feel. He withdrew his hand, regrettably watching the crack of her ass close shut.

“I know it sounds bad, I don’t know. Yes, I wanted to see how it would feel to be in one of these and then the top board just fell down and it locked shut. Do you have the key? You must have the key, please, could you just unlock this?”

“Oh yes, of course, I’m sorry. Yes, I just got this today. Some old students sent it to me as a present, a joke I suppose. And, let’s see, where did I put that key?” The key was in his pocket, but he pretended not to know where he had put it. He wanted to enjoy her presentation a bit longer.

“You don’t know where it is? Are you serious?” Anxiety swept back over her.

Mr. Peters kneeled down, providing himself a better view to inspect her cunt. It was such a sexy, attractive sight. Her mound was full, with a soft curly bush, like her own private, feminine garden, and cutting through the bush were the double flaps of her slit, the entrance to intense pleasure. “Don’t worry, I’ll find it. I think I put it on this book shelf, right next to you.” He continued to look at her as he was pretending to be looking elsewhere. He noticed that she was incredibly wet. “What happened here, Miss Harding? Why are your panties off, and why is your skirt pulled up?” It then dawned on him that he had made no effort to hide her nakedness.

“Oh Mr. Peters, it was so awful. Two boys, I’m sure they were students, they came in and took advantage of me. Both of them, one at a time.”

“Are you sure they were students? How can you be sure?”

“Well, no, but I think so.”

Mr. Peters tried to think of some excuse for feeling her delectable, wet cunt. His cock swelled so hard in his slacks.

“What did they do?” he asked, wanting to hear the details as he gazed at her buns and cunt, wanting her to take as much time as possible. He considered pulling his cock out, masturbating as she told him all of the details.

“They did it, they both did it to me. Oh, please Mr. Peters, I can’t really talk about it.” She made it sound like it had been horribly traumatic, like she had been raped. They had taken advantage of her and if they were caught they would and should be charged with rape. But, the fact was that she had enjoyed it and she knew it. She knew that if it had been any other woman, it would probably have been traumatic, it would have been horrible, terrifying, and so terribly abusive. But, not for her. She enjoyed it and she knew it. “Just please find the key, Mr. Peters, and let me out of this.” She liked being submissive, being used, being forced, being a captured toy to be used in a shameful manner for a wicked purpose. She knew this now. In fact, now that Mr. Peters had finally returned, now that she was in fact safe, her original fantasy returned.

Mr. Peters quietly, carefully, unzipped his slacks. “I’m looking. I remember seeing the key when I opened the box. I put it aside. I didn’t give it much thought. Now where is that thing?” He pulled his own thing from his pants, smiling as he stroked his cock into a hard stiffness as he gazed at her open, hot cunt.

“I can’t imagine what you’re thinking Mr. Peters. I mean, I’m so exposed like this. This is really so very embarrassing. You won’t tell anyone about this, will you?” Miss Harding could have told him to pull down her skirt, to hide her nakedness as he looked for the key, but she did not, and she knew why. She liked the idea that she could just display herself in such an obscene way to Mr. Peters but not have to take any responsibility for it. She even spread her legs a bit, pretending to be trying to get more comfortable but actually opening herself up for him to have a better look, giving him more provocative poses as she shifted her legs around. She felt very naughty, very dirty, but it was also very arousing. She knew what she would do when she got home, and she would do it bent over, thinking of Mr. Peters, and even of the students, as she played with herself.

“No, I won’t,” he replied, enjoying how her spread legs were giving him an even better view. “I understand.” He stood up, keeping a good grip on his hard cock, quietly moving his hand up and down its length. “This will be our secret. I won’t tell anyone about it.”

“Oh, thank goodness. I would just be mortified if anyone knew about this. I mean, I must be such a sight, you can see everything.” For all she knew, he was keeping his eyes averted, to protect her modesty. But, she wanted him to look, to notice how attractive and desirable she was. She spoke of the fact that she was exposed to him in order to encourage him to look.

He needed though no encouragement. He moved a bit off to the side, to also enjoy the view of her large breasts, hanging down well past her open blouse; her white water balloons of flesh swinging beneath her. He wanted to touch them so much.

“You know they did things to me. Can you see that? It must be disgusting to see.” She wanted him to look at her most Intimate parts.

“Miss Harding, no, it was not your fault, and you are certainly not disgusting to see. On the contrary.” He hesitated, not wanting to say anything that might ruin everything. “You look very.” He couldn’t continue, it was too risky. He did now, for the first time, in fact look away, at least briefly, trying to catch his thoughts, to think of the right thing to say.

“What? What Mr. Peters? What were you going to say?”

“I just, I just wanted to reassure you, Miss Harding, that, well, you know that you are a very attractive woman, you must feel humiliated to be forced to show yourself like this, to me, in my office, but I certainly don’t find it disgusting.” He was trying to carefully to feel her out, as he felt himself.

“What do you mean?” She moved her hips, subtly, but suggestively.

He noticed the movement. He wondered if perhaps she wasn’t in fact so humiliated. His breathing increased. His hand clutched his dick. He said, quietly, as if by whispering it he could take it back later, “I mean, well, a man would have to be blind not to find you, well, exciting, the sight of you, like this.”

Miss Harding didn’t respond, at first. She contemplated what he had just said. He had tipped his hand. She could perhaps do likewise. “Mr. Peters, is this giving you some sort of ideas?” she asked, apprehensively.

“I’m sorry, Miss Harding, I never should have said anything like that. I didn’t mean to imply, I was just trying to reassure you.” He reached for the key in his pocket.

Miss Harding, however, lifted up her bottom, pointing it up to him. “You didn’t offend me, Jack. In fact, I guess it’s a little flattering.” She wished she could see his face. She instinctively turned her head, left and right, wondering what he was thinking, what he was doing, whether he was in fact looking at her.

He returned his left hand to the cheek of her ass. His right hand let go of the key in his pocket.

“Jack, what are you doing? I can’t see anything behind me.”

He withdrew his hand.

She said, quietly, “Jack, it’s alright.”

He returned his left hand, and brought out as well his right hand, using both of them to lightly feel the curves of her bottom.

Miss Harding sighed. At last, the fantasy would come true. “That feels nice, Jack.”

He lightly moved his hands across her ass, caressing her curves, feeling her softness. She sighed in pleasure. He spread her cheeks and brought the index finger of his right hand down the open crack, all the way down to her anus.

“Oh my, Jack, yes.” She was so relieved to finally be able to be honest, to openly admit to what she wanted. “Do things, to me, please.”

He ringed her anus with his finger then brought it farther down, down to her upraised mound. She openly moaned with pleasure. He brought it along her slit, feeling the wetness that was still there, and then down into the slit, where it was even wetter and warmer, and then up into her cunt, where it was wetter and warmer still, and felt the soft insides of her hot cunt.

“Yes, thank you Jack, I want this so badly.” She squeezed down on his finger as he began to move it in and out, feeling and caressing the wet, tight interior.

He watched her hips move lustfully, wantonly, as he fingered her cunt. He withdrew it.

“Jack, please, don’t stop. I want it, I want it so bad.” She felt ashamed to admit it, to say it so openly, but she felt she had no choice. She was now in his control.

Mr. Peters though had no intention of stopping. He had removed his finger to make room for his cock, which he now placed at the entrance to her cunt.

She felt the unmistakable touch of the head of his cock against her cunt lips. “Yes, please, thank you Jack, do it to me, now, please.”

He plunged into her with one smooth, strong motion. He grunted with the intense pleasure. She squealed with equally intense delight, like a stuck pig.

“Jack! Yes, oh yes, please, do it, do it so hard.”

He began to fuck her as she had asked; hard, rough and fast.

“Yes Jack, it’s so good. You feel so good.”

He grabbed hold of her ass cheeks and plunged in and out.

“Jack, you’re so much bigger than the boys. Oh my. This is so good.” She clenched her hands into hard fists, squeezed her eyes shut and met his strong, manly plunging with wanton, abandoned thrusts of her own. She grunted as he slapped hard against her ass.

Then he stopped.

“Jack, what is it?”

He pulled out, her clenching cunt making a slurping noise as he withdraw his thick hard cock from her hot, wet cunt.

“Jack, did you hear something? Is the door locked?” Another wave of panic enveloped her. But he said nothing. There was just silence. She then felt his hands grip her cheeks and spread them apart. “Jack?” she asked, her cunt burning with desire. She then felt the head of his cock against her anus. “Jack!” she squealed.

Tags: Fetish, Story