2 comments/ 12458 views/ 1 favorites Cant By: SweetOblivion 'I just can't go through life without introducing myself and finding out where such a charming woman might come from,' Mr Winter smiled, swivelling round towards her on his barstool. 'Poor you,' June giggled, pushing her glass away from her on the bar and watching the trail of residual fluid build up on the smooth surface. He looked down at the trail following her hand and then looked down to the neat little black dress and the delightful legs, right down to the stockinged feet and the boots that stood next to her seat. 'I was starting to think that I might have resort to showing you my atlas in a bid to get you to enlighten me as to why you have bared your beautiful feet in public.' 'Very geographic of you, sir, but rather unnecessary: you could just ask, you know.' 'I'd rather you gave me the answers of your own accord.' 'Look at me: diminutive; delightful; alone and I take off my uncomfortable boots in comfortable bars.' 'Look at me: professional; athletic; fifty two and I own my own atlas.' 'So well endowed!' 'It is nice atlas.' 'In thick vellum, sir?' 'You can measure it, if you like?' 'Do desperate times call for desperate measures, sir?' 'I've never considered an atlas a desperate measure,' he laughed, lifting the heavy book onto the bar and opening to the east coast of America. 'See. This is where I live – right across the pond from you, normally.' 'You have a pond, sir?' Summer teased, circling her finger in a little pool of spilt liquor and then, lifting her finger up to her mouth to suck it slowly in. 'Tell me, sir...' 'Yes?' 'Do you have fish in your pond or is it just ornamental with pretty little icebergs? And sunken Titanics?' 'Yes, dear,' he sighed. 'Very apt given I am winter.' 'Winter, sir?' That's Mr Winter to you,' he added sternly, taking her wrist in his hands, squeezing playfully at first and then more than a little forcefully, before pulling her across the room to a booth in the corner. 'Now, tell me: what are you giggling at?' 'I can't help it, sir. Such an interesting encounter: my name is June. Does that make me Miss Summer to your Mr Winter?' 'I would have missed summer, had I not sat down beside you and shown you my tome.' 'Your tome was not a very satisfying share, sir. Is there any other way that summer may serve winter?' 'She can tell me is she as young as she looks?' 'How young does she look?' '12!' He taunted, watching her brow knit together in a frown. 'Beast!' 'Just kidding! 21 then?' 'I'm 13 actually or double that in terms of the number of summers, June has spent. It is legal to buy me drinks.' '26,' he nodded approvingly. 'And so pretty and petite: my mother is five foot three.' 'I am delightfully diminutive – even shorter than your mommy.' 'I didn't think anybody was shorter than mom.' 'Does every man hanker after his mom?' 'No they hanker after a good girl to satisfy their needs. And I'm sure you are a good girl.' 'I'm as good as you need me to be.' 'Good girl.' 'Here's my number,' he smiled handing her a business card. 'When I get back to the states, call me.' ' Build up my phone bill just for you, sir?' 'Give me your number and I'll ring you. I've never called England before.' 'Ooh - an international virgin dominate?' 'Yes,' he laughed. 'So old and yet so inexperienced,' she giggled 'My needs are an experience in themselves, young lady.' 'I thought that they might be, so I offered you sustenance like a good girl.' 'I don't need too much sustenance. I'll bet I'm over twice your weight, but you can be on top.' 'How nice for me, sir.' 'I was teasing you.' 'Teasing me?' 'Yes...I was teasing you about the possibility of satisfying my sexual proclivities.' 'Was that nice for you, sir?' 'The teasing or were you saying: "thank you, sir"?' 'Take it as you would like to take it, sir.' 'I would like to take it accurately,' he chuckled. 'I would like you to take me accurately, sir. Inaccuracy can be painful.' 'Was your last lover inaccurate?' 'No, sir, he was thirty eight.' 'He was far too young. You need someone older; more mature...someone around the age of say fifty two.' 'Do you have any suggestions, sir?' 'You are too cute,' he laughed. 'I am quite delicious, sir.' 'If you were any more delicious, my heart would overheat.' 'I could practice my CPR on you, if you did, sir.' 'Well that's a relief to know.' 'Do you only want me for relief, sir?' 'No, I only want you for sex.' 'That's very bold, sir, for one with a dodgy ticker.' 'I'll try not to let you over-excite me when you get to sleep with me.' 'I'd be more fun if I stayed awake, sir.' 'I'll bet you would.' 'Unless you have narcoleptic tendencies, of course.' 'I finished my 'narco' therapy some while back. Your sweet behind would be enough to awaken anyone.' 'So spank it later, Mr Winter, sir.' 'I would, but I think you'd enjoy it too much, Miss Summer sweet.' 'Then you had better not, in case you overwhelm me, sir.' 'As you wish.' 'Are you trying to impress me with your sudden restraint sir?' 'No, I'm trying to impress you with my talk of seduction.' 'You seem to do just fine, sir.' 'When did you first realize you enjoyed surrendering?' 'In the womb of course,' June grinned, 'I was probably born to be used.' 'Have you had a lover aged say about 52 before?' 'No, sir, I haven't.' 'I am so glad you are with me now, but I'd to love see those bright eyes as we talked in my home.' 'You might not be able to control yourself, sir.' 'And how would you respond if I started to lose control?' 'That would depend on what you needed, sir, beyond boxed ears that is.' 'I have lots of needs.' 'I'm sure you will uncover them all in time, sir.' 'You are very seductive. I could walk around you all evening.' 'I'd rather you stayed in front where I can keep my eyes on you sir.' 'Keep your eyes on me. I want to remember how mine were on yours for ever.' 'Remind me to send you a web camera for your birthday.' 'That works! I bet you do not go long between guys?' 'You think I'm a slut then?' 'A slut?' He arched his eyebrows. 'No, not at all: I think you are intelligent, sweet, very cute, sexy and, therefore, highly desirable.' 'Switching from man to man. Taking my boots off without even the flick of a whip? 'Only you can answer that.' 'Not if I have my mouth around something nice and hard and filling.' 'Such as?' 'A stick of celery?' 'Celery is not filling. You want something warm to satisfy your appetites.' 'I'm open to suggestions sir.' 'Would you like you hair held firmly? And pulled back and down so you'd have to drop to your knees?' 'I've been known to respond well to such treatment sir.' 'And would you feel good to see me unzip as I held your head in place?' 'Only if I was permitted to look up from the floor, sir.' 'So I could see your eyes bright in the candlelight as I rubbed my cock across your cheeks.' 'I'm sure it's a very big cock, sir.' 'It is: big and hard. Tell me, June. Do you like being a good girl?' 'It's not unpleasant, sir.' 'I like good girls...obedient girls. And I expect them to respond accordingly.' 'Yes sir.' 'And I expect them to answer and not make me ask twice.' 'Are you telling me off, sir?' 'No, not at all: I'm telling you what I expect.' 'And there was me thinking I had been a naughty girl, Mr Winter, sir.' 'You need no less since you have been naughty in more ways than one.' 'Naughty, wicked and bad, then?' 'Yes.' 'I think you like it when I am naughty wicked and bad, sir.' 'Clever girl.' 'Thank you, sir.' 'Now, that wasn't so hard was it, dear?' 'Not as hard as some things, sir.' 'Oh?' 'Like celery for instance.' He laughed at the wicked look in her eyes. 'Tell me the truth. Do you hope I will force you to your knees one day, my hands on your lovely pantie-clad buttocks?' 'I don't know sir. That would depend.' 'I'd want to put you across my knee and pull your panties down and expose your sweet bottom.' 'I think I'll just let you imagine how wonderfully peachy my tight, little bottom is, sir, for a while.' 'I can imagine.' 'I'm sure you can sir.' 'And I think you'd enjoy getting it spanked.' 'Oh no. I'd hate it sir. I'd hate being pulled over your lap and having you flick my skirt up and rolling my pretty little panties down over my soft young flesh sir - really I would.' 'I'd spank your bottom - not too hard.' 'But not too soft, sir.' 'And I'd slip my fingers down between your cheeks, every so often to see if you are getting wet.' 'That's rather daring of you, sir.' 'It's my right. Any complaints?' 'No, sir.' 'Good girl.' 'Thank you sir.' 'As you get wetter, I'll stick my finger further in and I'd put my thumb by your lips to see your reaction.' 'I might tremble just a little, sir.' 'Ah! Just the hint of a shiver of anticipation – excellent! I'd expect you to suck the thumb with enthusiasm.' 'Let me get you another drink.' 'You're very kind, sir. I'd like something frothy and creamy right now.' 'That's good. You have a face built for blowjobs.' 'So charmingly put, Mr Winter,' June laughed. 'I was thinking of a half of Guinness.' 'Have you ever had someone make you suck another?' 'Suck another Guinness? It has to be ordered first.' 'No. You know exactly what I mean, June.' 'Yes, sir: I do' 'Do you enjoy it?' 'It is a different experience, sir. I like to drink it all down.' 'Geese! I wish I could pack you up and take you home.' 'The pleasure depends on the head and the body.' 'The shaft you mean.' 'Guinness has a shaft, sir?' 'No, you witch!' 'Will you shaft me when you take me home to mommie? Is that who would you have me serve sir? 'No. I've already got her a lousy T-shirt. You would be a gift to myself.' 'Would I, sir?' 'Yes, pet. A gift so delightful the thought of it makes me so hard it hurts.' 'It wouldn't do for me to kneel and unzip you in a bar now would it sir?' 'I can dream.' 'The barman might frown if I pulled your big fat cock out of your pants and licked the underside looking up at you all the time?' 'Yes, but what do I care?' 'You care that I kiss the head of your cock and take it slowly into my tight young mouth, I think, Mr Winter? Look sir: it's all pursed and eager - fresh and unfucked for nearly two months, sir? Imagine how I might rock backwards and forwards on my heels, letting you ease your way in and out as is your pleasure.' 'This is torture.' 'If I licked your balls sir, would that be very bad of me: would you have to tell me to stop sir? 'Not at all, Miss Summer.' 'If my tongue happened to flick behind as you stood over me or if my mouth opened to suckle one nice round testicle at a time sir - licking and tasting and suckling to your heart's desire sir?' 'You are a good girl – a very good girl – making me want you.' 'Thank you sir.' 'If you continue to be this good, I'll come in my pants.' 'That would not be nice sir.' 'I'll let you get on all fours as I inspect you, pet you, probe you...' 'Ooooh. Lucky me.' 'I'll like seeing your back arch and your little bottom stick you in the air as my fingers rub gently and push inside you.' 'You may make me moan and disturb your mama, sir.' 'Good. She's beyond disturbing, given she went to a retirement home several years ago.' 'Of course sir, I forgot for a moment how old you actually were.' 'I'll make you moan, you bitch,' he grimaced angrily. 'Do you want me to fuck you from behind?' 'Only if you don't make me spill my drink, sir.' 'Do you want to feel sir's cock slide inside you as he spanks your bottom? Tell me you want me to fuck you! Do it!' 'I'd rather you fucked off, to be honest, sir. 'Huh?' 'It may leave you crestfallen, but I really don't need your thick cock.' 'You don't?' 'I don't need you to make me lie down on a bed and take off my clothes as you watch for the tightness of my pussy, no matter how much you want to make me spread my legs.' 'You...' What's the matter sir? Has Alzheimer's interfered with your thought processes? Really, I don't need a crumbly old ruin like you.' 'You really are a total bitch aren't you?' 'How can I help it, sir, when you ask for it so?' 'Sudden cold feet?' 'I kicked my boots off a while back, sir.' 'There is the non-answer answer.' 'Of course, sir.' 'And the real answer is?' 'You are old, you are lonely and you are far from home. And I need to go now, sir.' 'Does the distance between our homes put you off, then?' 'Less so than the proximity between us now, sir.' 'Then, you have my permission to leave, girl.' 'That was taken as a given, Mr Winter, but I thank you.' 'Some women just like to talk the talk, right?' 'I talk the talk. Then I walk the walk sir,' June giggled, as she stood up to make for the door. 'You see,' she smiled over her shoulder at him, flopped back against a cushion in the booth, 'I am that talented you can't have me even with all your cant.' Cant "Why are you wearing that lipstick?" His normally kind and even voice is low, husky. Just on the edge of a growl or something more primal. He moves towards her, the entrance of the bistro, with the speed only a monster can have. And then his green eyes are upon her, his thick blond hair hardly moved by the chilling wind. His broad frame barely constrained by the sports jacket and his teeth sharp as his tone. "This is why you wanted me to meet you here, isn't it?" She doesn't know what he's talking about. Her heart is rising to the back of her throat as she denies it, saying that it was just to- "Shut it." He looks around the street and waits as a couple passes, glowering at her, so intense that they both look back before vanishing. "You think I'm going to let you do this? Walk all over and wear your whore-shaded lipstick?" He's closer to her now, enough that she can feel his heat. "I'm not those little boys you've dated. You can't just put yourself on display and expect to be worked out. So I'm going to give you a chance." He stands back up to full height and takes two steps back. "Admit that you wore the lipstick in order to get attention or I'm going to punish you." She doesn't know what he means. It's just nice. Can't they just go inside and have a- He takes her by the arm and drags her so hard she fears her shoulder may pop out, her elbow sprained. She pulls back, fights him, but he doesn't even turn. He drags her along like she is cargo, like he's a train. They're in the alley without so much as a step made from her and then, after she realizes he won't listen to her pleas, she hops along after him, the small heels on her shoes starting to break off. Then she's lifted by his hands on her waist and he pushes her against cold brick wall. They are eye to eye now and she is pinned by his torso, by his hands. By his gaze. "You look fucking obscene. Like a god damn whore who's probably only worth the cost of a meal. If that." One of his hands wraps under her thigh and pushes up her dress. "Look at me, look at me, don't scream or it will get worse. You wanted me to get jealous? Want me to see all those other men look at the lips and neck that I own?" His fingers claw at her panties. "Well guess what you fucking manipulative slut. You got your wish." And he shoves two fingers inside her. She clenches, falls back against the wall to get away from the pain, to thrash her head to the side and closer her eyes so she doesn't have to see it. She starts to beg with him, louder. He lets her until she threatens to scream, then- His teeth close over her neck in such a way that her voice is trapped. She can feel him biting down so hard her pulse bounces in his teeth. Then he says, mouth still sunken into her, "Scream and it'll be the last thing you do." They hold that position, her gasping for air as he begins to push his fingers in and out of her. It is slow on the way out follow by a hard thrust back in. Over and over again. "You dress like a slut, you'll get taken like a slut. The good news is I'll leave you alive at the end of it. Who knows if one of those other guys you were looking for would have done the same." He releases her and like a god damn animal uses his face to turn hers back to him. "Open your eyes." She does and they look into one another for a silent moment, her wincing with every thrust of his fingers but otherwise still. Then she adjusts, or he softens the assault, but either way it starts becoming less painful. More enjoyable. His fingers pulling out of her in such a way that the tease her before the thrust sends her into agony for a moment. They press their lips against each other, hers trembling and vibrating each time he pushes in. His starting to open to omit a long, low growl in response to her pain. Their eyes are locked, hers watering and his like smoke. Then, before she can pull herself away, she kisses him. His fingers stop inside her as their lips tangle, press into one another. As her eyes close and her body clenches to him, around him. So he starts moving his fingers in little circles. Then a come hither motion, reaching deep inside her and stroking the inside, the inner ridges, coaxing even more wetness out of her. He breaks the kiss, puts his fingers to her mouth and pushes them into until she begins to suck. "You see? It doesn't have to be like this. You don't have to demand that I hurt you. You could just ask. Wouldn't it be better if you didn't wear lipstick that made you look fucking obscene?" She nods, the bobbing of her head shoving more and more of him inside her. Then, as he pulls the fingers out, she leans forward and whispers something. When he comes closer to hear she says it again, louder but still not enough, so he pushes her into the wall and moves his ear to hear face. "I said fuck you." Her words are cold and calculated but that only lasts for a moment because her teeth, the full force of them, sink into his skin with singular purpose. There's howling and pushing, grunting and shoving as he pries her teeth from him. He slams her against the wall and then, when she relents, tosses her to the ground below before applying his hand to the wound. Hot, thick blood covers it, steams slightly into the night. When he looks to his hand it's covered. And when he looks to her she's still got it on her lips. She smiles as she looks up at him with large, doe eyes. "What do you think of my lipstick now, lover?" Cocking her head to the side, she spits some blood out of her lips. Then she's up with an easy push and sauntering over to him, dipping into her purse to pull out some gauze. When he straightens, rears up to full height, she laughs and shoves his hand away from the wound. "Don't worry, I surrender. I wouldn't want some big, bad monster to have his way with me." She winks at him, dabs the wound with the cloth and then pulls him by his hair until he is leaning forward. "I didn't think you were going to bite me that hard." He sounds low, defeated and she smirks as she unscrews a bottle of hydrogen peroxide and washes out the bite. She holds him still but his beautiful hair. Then she puts the gauze on him, tapes it into place. "The way I see it," she says, "is you can either sulk. Or you can take revenge." "I'm not sure what you want from me. I don't—I'm not the man you think I am." His voice is low as his eyes come up to hers. She presses her lips against him, kisses him hard and takes one of her hands in his and then brushes his lips with his own blood. "I know you are." It bolsters him, moves through him. He takes her by the wrist and they move back out to the sidewalk and to the front door of the restaurant. There he pushes her in, and she laughs as he does. The joy doesn't last long. The place is empty, with only a small section cleaned of the debris and dust that builds up over time. He takes her by the hand and moves her over to it, just out of the light and spins her around. "You can see them. And if they look in they'll be able to see us. But just barely. Watch." They wait a moment, his arms around her. She pushes her ass against him as a couple walks by. "See?" Hand hand makes his way down beneath her dress, up her skirt and into her pussy, much gentler than before. "I've been thinking about what you asked. What you want from me. And I realized that I can only give it to you one way." Her nod whips and brushes her hair up his chest. Fingers invade her again, so much more sweetly than before. Then she feels her neck being held, constrained and choked by the other hand. Just a little. Just enough to know that he could press down harder and do real damage. Harm her. "But the more I thought about it," he said as he tightened his grip, "the more I realized that it wouldn't hurt you. Not really. If it's what you want, I can't really hurt you, can I?" His hand trembles, knuckles turn white, as he chokes her with all of his strength for a few seconds. When he releases she gasps and is so much wetter than even a moment before. That's when he starts stroking her in earnest. Moving his fingers in and out in the rhythm he learned drove her wild. He squeezes her throat in time with the thrust in and out, to keep tempo, to keep control. He felt her heat, the pre-cum so thick it was starting to drip out of her, and continued to drive on until he felt her right at the edge of climax. "And that's when I realized that the guy you wanted out there in the alley? I'm never going to be him. But I can be something better." He takes her right to the point where it's only a few thrusts to make her cum. Then he stops, his voice so sharp it nearly cuts her ears. "I realized that if you really wanted to be hurt? You just need to be denied." And with that he pulls his fingers out of her and lets her tremble. He anticipates her shift and uses his hand on her throat to keep her in place. "No. Please. I was so-" is all the manages to get out. Then his fingers turn into a palm and her clit is slapped, direct and harshly. She shudders, feeling the head scream from the blow itself, the orgasm that was falling away and the pain of being struck there. "No!" She cries. "I was so close." "No?" He slaps her clit again. And again. And again. Until she is finally silent, whimpering, easy in his hand. Then releases her, throws her to a table that she spills over. He walks up behind her, deftly undoing his belt-buckle. He is upon her, moving her dress over her hips, before she can move back around. He puts on hand flat on her back and the other on her head. They both push her down, into the table, her cheek faced toward the window as his cock, like heated iron, brushes against the very outskirts of her pussy. He grabs her hair between his knuckles as he pushes into her, with a single, easy stroke. Then he tilts her head back as his cock slides all the way into her wet, defiant pussy until his pelvis is against her ass. "Do you feel me? How strong I am? You want me slap you around can call you a whore—I can do that." He does a single, long stroke, in and out. "But this? This is you really losing control. "He leans over her, pressing into her, encompassing her, but still pulling her hair back, making her face the window that anyone could walk by. "If you cum, you're going to be in such trouble. Do you understand?" She groans, she nods as much as his grip will allow her. Then he takes off like the devil. Letting the monster inside run wild and fuck her with abandon. His cock is harder than she's ever felt it, then he has either. Alive. He feels alive as he drives in and out of her without care for her feelings, her needs. She has become a human sex toy. A hole. Something that is there only for him and he revels in it. He pulls her hair just to do it, just because he can. He changes speed and position to stroke his cock however he sees fit. "This is what you wanted you worthless whore. But instead of it getting you off I'm going to cum and cum and you can't do anything about it." She starts to whimper another protest, clenching her teeth and trying not to let the sensation build. His reaction is a simple picking up and slamming of her head back into the table. "Be a good girl" he says as he continues to fuck her. "Be a good girl or I'll growl as loud as I want and this is how you'll be found." The rush is too much for him. The power. Her finally being under his control and obeying him without play being involved. He releases her hair, grabs her hips and slams into her with everything he has. No longer worried about who she is, or how she feels. Just what she can do for his cock. His groans, his growls, the motion. It's all too much for her. She feels it building. Coming to a head. She won't last much longer and is almost afraid of what he'll do but then- Mercifully he pulls out of her. Spins her around so quickly her has to focus on where to keep her dizzy eyes before she's pushed down on her knees. "Mouth closed," is all she hears before wave after wave of his cum falls over her face. It is thick, and hot, and without hesitation he begins to rub it over her until it's a mask. Until it covers every part of her face. Then she feels his hand in her hair again, pulling it back until she's looking at the ceiling. "Open." She hears it and complies, her mouth parting just in time to take his hot, sleek cock into her mouth. The position is poor for her, but he seems to be enjoying himself, if his low rumbles and quick jerks are any indication. He goes soft, and she is thankful, until he shoves the whole of himself into her again and again, giving instructions of what to do with her lips, her throat. Even this turns on her, feeling this side of him, and she does her best to focus on the task instead of her wetness. That stratagem fails her the moment he starts to get hard again. As his cock grows in her mouth the sensation between her legs comes alive again. He pulls out and lifts her onto the able. Within an instant he is pouncing back insider her again, jumping onto the table to pin her wrists. One hard thrust in and out before her turns her face to the window, covers her hand. Three men walk by and he begins to pump in and out of her. This time slow, methodical, meaningful. As one turned to look in out of idle curiosity he thrust in her hand, clamped his hand down over her mouth. The man outside stopped, he peered in with a cupped hand over his eyes. Then, after a moment, caught up with his friends. Her lover, now a beast, laughed as he continued to push in and out here. "Next time I should make a noise. Get them to see us for sure. The cum on your face, the blood on your hands. No matter what you said about tonight, I can't imagine you getting caught." He falls into an easy rhythm, his hips bobbing like a buoy as his hands take the blood from her wrists with easy force. She's pinned, entirely, her thighs edged open by his legs. But it's worse than that. She's open. Exposed. The one thing she used to get away from herself, the ability to focus on the orgasm, taken from her. Instead she has to feel him drive into her with the cock she'd always wanted him to have, and do nothing about it. Simply endure. But for how much longer could she be expected to do so? "You're so wet." His voice, husky and demanding, makes her twitch. "Oh, your cunt likes that. Being told what a slut you are, how wet you are. That much I knew. But the depth of which you want it will always surprise me." He tugs at her wrists now instead of pushing them into the table, making her arms stretch as far away from the as possible, picking her up slightly and beginning to hammer her harder as he does. She's in agony. All she wants to do is release and when she looks back into his eyes there is only hot glee. The desire to keep her in this spot as he pushes himself closer to the edge. His desire grows. She can see it in his chest heaving faster, his eyes more narrowed, his stance more direct. He's growling at her instead of talking. Diving into her with longer thrusts. Using his hands to navigate her just where he desires before pounding again and again. Then his eyes close, head tilts back and he's hammering as hard as he can. She wishes she could cross her legs. Fold in on herself. Even keep herself from looking at his contorting face. But she can't. Her pussy is right at the edge and as he begins to scream, she does too. He pleads as his cum enters her that it won't be enough. That he'll hurry with his load inside her and stop pushing. Please. Please! Cum shoots into her, covers her, sinks to the lowest level and feels thick and hot in a way that is only good. She trembles as he does, biting her lip and praying his vibrations will stop. The swishing of the liquid inside, his cum and her wetness mixing, the shifting of his hips amplified by the table. It's all too much. But then it stops and she says thank you. It doesn't last long. Her monster recovers quickly. He pulls her over the edge of the table and spins her over onto her stomach again. Then he begins to pound her, slap her ass, forcing the cum out and onto her thighs. He calls her a worthless whore a dozen times. A slut more. She takes the hits gladly because at least it's not the kind of torture she is unaccustomed to. But then she feels the blows stop, his body shift and before she can do anything about it his teeth are sinking into her ass. She's never felt a bite without the cushion of an orgasm before and screams out. Then she feels it, skin breaking from the force, his giant, strong hands holding her against the table as it does. "No," she says a half dozen times. But it's far too little and late. By the time he's done she can feel his teeth leave her. Then fingers seal her wounds, move over them before coming to her lips. And though she's tasted herself before, tonight she is forced to sip her own blood for the first time while in pain, out of arousal and deeply wounded. Still, she sucks his fingers until the blood goes down. He strokes her cheek then and she wonders just how much of it has mixed with the sweat and cum. He drops her, leaves her there against the table and, a moment later, drops the purse on top of it. "Raise your left leg," is all he says. She does and he wraps her panties around it. They repeat the process with the right before scooting the panties until they cover the bite mark. "I'm really not going to be allowed to cum," she asks. "You're lucking I'm allowing you to live," he growls. She takes up her purse and sees him finish bucking up his belt before offering his hand out to hers. "I can't go out like this," she says. "Please." "Take my arm or it will get worse." She does. The lock, then they're out the door. She wants to dive behind him, throw herself to the ground every time she catches someone looking at her in this strange part of town. And when they stop at the bus she feels like she could die. "Please," she asks him another time but he simply waits. They both are well aware they can afford a taxi and that he's choosing to do this for her. The bus-driver gives her a second look but is otherwise dutiful as they make their way to the back of the bus. He sits first then pulls her into his lap and, without so much as a flick of his wrist, moves into her panties. This time he simply movers his index finger in small circles over her clit, stroking it only when some other passenger turns to look. He maintains this behaviour for stop after stop before moving his teeth to her ear. "Do you want to get off, little girl?" She nods with such vigor her head might pop off and he begins to stroke her clit with much more strength. "No," she hisses lowly to him. "No, please. Not here." "Yes, here. Now. Because I said so." He turns her face to him with his free hand and continues to stroke her clit in just the way that drives her crazy. Then he kisses her, and she falls into it, kissing him back gently and letting her legs open just a little bit more. Her hips start grinding back and forth and as the kiss is released she is forced to look forward again. A young man keeps looking back at them, not yet capable of casting the same quiet glances as the rest. She feels their eyes on her and she is mortified, but the heat inside is too much. She bites her lip. She squeals as lowly as she can manage. And she cums for him so hard she feels her panties drip. Then she rests against him, finds the attentions and whispers of her fellow passengers waning. All except the young boy, handsome in his way. She waits until he makes eye contact with her again, then turns, puts her hand around the neck of her monster and kisses him hard. When she turns around again she sees the boy's gaze is still on her. And she winks. "You're right." She says it with peace as she nuzzles into him. "I love the way this lipstick makes you fuck me." Cant And as soon as he sees the young boy looking at his slut, his cock begins to rouse again. Can't a Guy Get Any Rest? It started out as a nice weekend for working outside. I had quite a bit of landscaping to do and I looked forward to the hard work I had planned over the next few weeks. What I didn't plan for was the heat wave that took us that afternoon -- over 100 degrees but I kept shoveling. I should've know better, but I really felt fine. I only stopped for a beer every few hours to cool off. Renee, my beautiful wife, would come out every so often and check to see if I was doing okay. I didn't marry her just because she is smart and funny. She's also really sexy, with nice long legs, a shapely ass and 36DD's. By early evening, I was already toast when I learned that Renee had called our friends over to hang out at our house. These were all nice folks. We all knew each other because our children were all around the same ages and we tend to revolve our social lives around kid events. My wife became close friends with these two gals and us guys just tended to float along and make the best of it. What ensued was the same three couples and a herd of kids all enjoying birthday parties, soccer games, school events, and a hundred other little events that we all did together. Once I came in from the heat I jumped right in the shower while everyone else gathered downstairs. As usual, everyone brought food and drinks to share, and no expectations. I came down in a t-shirt and gym shorts and greeted our company. I grabbed a cold beer and showed the guys all the digging I had accomplished that afternoon. The women prepped the food and kids ran all over the place. Very relaxing. My wife was chatting with Mia, her closer friend, when we all came in for another beer. While I never even think of straying, I did enjoy looking at Mia. This curvy asian gal is hot. She always dresses in skirts or shorts, showing-off her smooth, sexy legs. Renee knows I like looking at Mia and she grinned at me when we all came in. She knew I came over to check Mia and her out. Of course, she may also have been grinning at the erection I was having trouble hiding in my gym shorts. We finished eating and everyone grabbed another beer to sit down. That's when the problem started. I felt light headed through dinner and the beer buzz started turning into a headache. I was standing by the end of the sofa when I felt someone holding me by the shoulders. Next thing I knew, that someone was laying me down on the sofa. I had nearly passed out! Everyone agreed that I had overdone it in the day's heat and that I should take it easy. I excused myself and headed upstairs while everybody gave some advice or other about working in the heat and drinking. Whatever -- my head was pounding and it was too late now, anyway. Upstairs, I laid on my bed and pulled a pillow over my eyes to ease my headache. This was just what I needed, as I started feeling much better and my body just completely relaxed. In fact, I was so relaxed that I felt that erection stirring again. Since I was all alone and trying to ease my headache, why not? I reached down and sort of massaged my balls through my gym shorts. I wasn't trying to masturbate, it just felt relaxing. But relaxing is just a breath away from feeling good and my growing erection was feeling really good. It felt so good, that I reached down the elastic top of my shorts and gently rubbed the head of my cock. My wife is really good at hand jobs and she's developed a cool technique since we've been together. Who am I to stop her from practicing? She has a way to pull and massage my scrotum, digging her fingers into just the right places between my balls. At the same time, she slowly strokes me by pulling down from the head all the way to the base and slowly all the way back up while twisting her wrist. Somehow, she gets this pattern going where the sensations just rock my world. This is what I was thinking of when I started rubbing the tip of my cock. I've never been able to duplicate the technique on myself, but all I was doing was rubbing while my growing erection snaked its way through the top of my shorts. This was feeling so nice that I must have dozed-off. I don't know how long I was sleeping, but I felt groggy and could barely move when I heard the doorknob click and the door slowly swing open. "Where am I ," I thought for a second as I tried to stir. Then I remembered I was laying down, still feeling groggy, and someone was in the room. "Oh, no!" I had been playing with my cock and I had no idea who came in. I stayed perfectly still, partly because I was embarrassed about my penis exposed and partly because I was still too sleepy-headed to move. "Babe?" My wife whispered to me. "Are you okay, honey?" I was about to respond and sit up, but I heard another voice. It was Mia asking, "do you think he's okay?" I was petrified. Mia must have come up with Renee to check on me and like an idiot, I fell asleep while playing with my dick. But neither of them said anything. Maybe they just won't notice? Is my cock still poking through the top of my shorts? The pillow was still plopped over my eyes, so I couldn't see. Maybe its dark and they'll quietly leave and try not to disturb me. The pillow was slowly being raised, so I concentrated on keeping my eyes shut. "Please just let me sleep," I begged in my mind. I was exposed as a pervert in front of my wife. I'd rather they think that I was passed out. "He's really out of it." My wife was the one lifting the pillow. "I knew he shouldn't drink like that while working in the sun all day." She thought I was out! I was going to escape. "Turn the light on, Mia." I was so close, but now I was caught. The light was out and it had grown dark. That's why they didn't see my penis. But my cover was blown, so my excuse now could be that I was drunk and passed out. Sure enough, I heard the light switch click on. I don't know who gasped, but it was clear that my erection was there. I stayed perfectly still, concentrating on slow and methodical breaths. "Oh my God!" Mia blurted. Then giggles from both of them. "Honey, are you okay?" Renee gently shook my leg. "Man, he hasn't passed out like this for years." "Is he really sleeping?" Mia asked, still whispering. "He must be," my wife replied. She clutched my leg harder and shook. "See?" She called my name again, but I continued my ruse. "God, he really is big." Mia could probably see everything. "Oh, yea." Was Renee boasting? "But it doesn't look like he's completely hard yet." I thought, "what on earth?" as I listened to this. Was my wife really boasting about my cock while I was laying there exposed to another woman? "How big is he?" "Well, here." The top of my shorts were pulled down, causing my cock to spring up. "I can't touch my fingertips together when I hold him." I felt her hand grasp my shaft. I was amazed. "It gets bigger?" I felt Mia sit on the edge of the bed. "Yep, just watch." My wife started stroking me and I knew my erection was nearing full mast. After a few more strokes she said "here, check it out now." I felt a different hand on my cock. Mia tentatively squeezed me. Her hand was soft and warm. "Hold it down here," my wife instructed. I felt Mia's hand shift all the way down. "Are your fingers touching?" "No," Mia giggled. She kept stroking me, just like my wife did. Suddenly, another voice came from the hall. "What now?" I thought. I was petrified. I was also worried that this was going to stop. "Is he alright?" I heard one of the other guys call in. The bed bounced as my wife sprung up to meet him in the hallway. Then I felt the most amazing thing. Could it be? Yes, a hot, wet mouth engulfed the head of my cock. Too much was happening at once. With my wife right out the door, that sneaky Mia put my cock in her mouth and nobody had seen. I stiffened, either from the shock or the pleasure, I don't know. However, my stiffening caused me to jump. But my jump was more like me popping my hips up. The result was that it drove my cock further into Mia's mouth. What a sensation! Instead of continuing, though, she lifted my shorts up and quickly covered me up. Somehow, I managed to keep still. This was way too good to change. "He's okay, he just overdid it today." Renee kept him out in the hallway. "I'm just going to help him settle in and I'll be right down." She came back into the room, but this time the door shut and I heard the bolt lock, too. My wife was not done yet. "I almost shit!" Renee said. "Oh, good thinking. Thanks for covering him up." She and Mia giggled again. "I can't believe we did this!" Mia laughed. "Can I see him again?" I felt my shorts being pulled down again. "I want to see him cum." Renee was by me again. "I've got to see this!" Mia's voice came from the foot of the bed. My cock was out, my wife's hands were stroking and I was in heaven. Then she started her awesome hand moves. She pulled on my scrotum, stretching the skin out and massaging my balls. Her strokes picked up that twisting motion. Mia said, "That looks so cool!" "Do you want to try it?" "Okay, what do I do?" "Well, you just pull up on it like this." She rolled her fist up while rotating her wrist. "Then you pull it back down, but turn your hand this way," she said as her fist rolled down and her fingers slid down their spiral path. I felt Mia's hand replace my wife's. "Like this?" Slowly she pulled up and then down. Her fingers were tight and my foreskin stretched along with her. "Sort of. Try doing it in one smooth motion" Renee sounded like an art instructor. "Kind of dance with it." Bingo! Mia got the stroke down. "Here, let me help" I heard as I felt my wife's fingers pull and massage my balls. I was not going to last long. "I can feel him ready to come." My wife's voice was husky and low. "Reach over and grab the tissues." "Where? Aren't they on your side?" "Oh shit!" My wife moved back by the dresser, but she was too late. I felt it building from way down deep. Mia kept her strokes long and firm. "Ooh, I think he's cumming." She slowed down and squeezed harder. "Don't let it stain the cover!" My wife scrambled for the tissue box. This was it. I was just feeling the first wave when a warm, soft wetness engulf my cock. Again, Mia drew my cock between her lips. No holding back, I felt the strongest gush of sperm shoot as my cock was swallowed. "Mia!" My wife's voice was almost a scream. "I can't believe you did that!" "Mmmmmmmmm." She bobbed her head and swallowed, sucking my cum. What was that grunting? It was me! How can I hide now that I had just shot a hot load down my wife's friend's throat? They didn't notice, though. "Well, you said not to get any on the cover." She kept squeezing my cock, drawing the last few drops of cum from me, and licking the tip off. "I know, but I didn't expect you to do that!" "Well, it worked, didn't it?" She pulled herself from the bed and I was completely ignored. "By the way, this spread looks really nice in here." "Oh, thanks! I found it downtown. Did you see the throw pillows that go with it?" They kept chatting as they left the room. Dang, can't a guy get any rest?