1 comments/ 15869 views/ 2 favorites What Worser Place? By: What Worser Place? Three days later I called her apartment at midday, when I knew she would be at work, and left a brief message: "Come visit me this weekend if you're not busy. I'll expect you Friday night." Kristin did not call back that night, or the next; but on Friday afternoon at 4:30 someone knocked urgently at my apartment door. Kristin was waiting there when I answered, her ivory cheeks blushing bright pink with anxiety. Her eyes cleaved to mine, eager but unsure. "I'm here," she said. "So you are," I said, smirking. I stood aside, beckoned her within. She entered, flashing me a diffident grin, and I ogled her. She was wearing the same red turtleneck she'd worn on her previous visit, accentuating her breasts perfectly, and a pair of gray striped trousers which hugged her hips and ass voluptuously. "You look spectacular!" I said. She was wearing more makeup than before, though still tastefully applied. At that moment I thought pridefully that she was the most attractive woman I had ever slept with. "You mean my makeup looks good," she said flippantly, but the glow in her eyes belied her delight. "Would you like to go out?" "Out?" "Yes. To eat. Just so that I can show you off to the world." "Like a trophy." "That's right." "Maybe I'd look even better naked." "But then they wouldn't let you into the restaurant." She laughed gaily, as if this were a choice witticism. "Then we can just stay in. I'm not hungry anyway." "No?" "I ate a big breakfast. But I'll still be your trophy." I closed my door, turned to her. "Naked?" "Is that how you want me?" I nodded. "Keep the shoes on, though." She was wearing her dainty ankle boots, with a pair of frilly white socks. "You sure?" "Absolutely. And don't screw up your makeup. It's amazing." "Okay. Right now?" "Unless you were lying to me and you really are hungry." "No, not really." Kristin stripped right there, taking off her boots only to remove her trousers. Then she stood by the pile of her discarded clothing, her arms hugging her waist. "You like?" she asked. "I could get used to it." It was a deliberately equivocal compliment; I felt the initiative between us -- which had somehow swung perceptably toward her when she arrived -- was once again firmly with me. I stared pointedly at her breasts, her rosy nipples distending before my eyes. She noted the objects of my attention and laughed nervously. "It's chilly in here," she murmured. "Not where I'm standing." She took a half step forward, arms still wrapped around her waist. She looked exquisitely desirable. "What do you want me to do?" she asked. "Turn around. I've missed the sight of your ass." She exhaled sharply, a noise which might have signaled consternation or pleasure, but she immediately turned around and then, cocking her ass toward me, gazed coyly over her shoulder. "Now bend over and grab your ankles." She hesitated, brow creased. "I don't see why," she said. "Because I told you to." Licking her lips, she bent abruptly and put her hands on her boots; her gorgeous buttocks flared to reveal the tiny quivering dot of her rectum above her slim pink slit. "Beautiful," I said, and stepped forward to cup both round globes of her ass in my hands. I hefted them, testing their weight; Kristin moaned softly. "You like me touching them," I observed. "Mm. Very much." I gave her buttocks a vigorous smack, which echoed in my small apartment. "Stand up. I'm ready for you to make me cum." "Yes? Right away?" Kristin straightened, turned to face me. She had put her hands to her throat, as if warming her palms on a chilly day. "How do you want me?" she asked. "I'll use your mouth." She blushed at the bluntness of my words, but her lips curled in a wry smile. "What's my record for making you cum?" "If I recall correctly, two minutes is your personal best." "You hardly lasted one second in my puss." "Don't be so ungenerous. It was at least five seconds. And we're talking about your mouth, not your cunt." "Two minutes then. You'll time me?" "From the moment my cock is in your mouth," I said, flourishing my wristwatch theatrically. I stripped off my pants and we proceeded to the sofa, where Kristin squatted between my splayed knees. She leaned forward, dragged her dangling breasts along the length of my semi-erection. "I can get you hard first? Before I put you in my mouth?" she asked. I liked the eagerness in her voice and expression. "Of course." She jacked me off with one small fist, watching avidly as my flesh quickly hardened. Her eyes darted repeatedly to my face, her features mirroring the pleasure she must have seen there. She jerked harder, biting her lip, huffing with the strain of her exertion. "You're cheating!" I gasped, my precum slickening her palm. She looked at me, startled; her hand froze on my shaft. "No, no!" I snapped. "Don't stop now. Faster, goddammit!" "Oh!" She shifted her weight on the balls of her feet, adjusted the angle of her elbow and stroked me more passionately than ever. "Ah yes!" I groaned, stiffening. "Ah, you do know how to make a cock happy!" I climaxed, my semen tumbling in gobs over her fingers and hand. Kristin moaned with joy as she watched, and continued to jerk me with such enthusiasm that dollops of sperm were flung into the air. When my orgasm subsided, I had to clutch her wrist to halt her. "That was good," I said breathlessly, consulting my watch. "One minute, forty seconds." She grinned. "That's even better than my mouth," she marveled. I nodded weakly. "Now clean it up." She bent her head to lick and suck at the slick goo covering my cock and belly, then she looked up at me with a lascivious smile, lips and cheeks glistening, and slurped the strands which clung to her fingers. "I love making you cum," she purred, hips gyrating. "You taste so good!" "How does Todd taste?" She shrugged. "The same. But he doesn't like to cum in my mouth. He thinks it's disgusting." "And why are you with that guy again?" "Because you don't want me." "I already have you exactly the way I want you." "That's true. Who needs the cow when you can get the milk for free." "That's right, my little Bessie. Mama never spoke so true." I laughed, and she twisted her mouth in displeasure. "I don't see why you're so mean to me. I do everything you could possibly want." "Now don't start getting fussy. If there's one thing I can't stand, it's a nag." "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to nag. I know you're not really being mean; you're just poking fun. But it still hurts to hear you say it. I mean, I love you so much I sometimes think I'm going crazy. I'm willing to do things for you that most men only fantasize about, I really am -- and yet you still treat me like dirt." "Not 'dirt,' my dear. It's just that I take you completely for granted." She could no longer meet my gaze. "So my love isn't good enough for you?" "You are free to walk out that door any time, Kristin. Go back to Todd and shower him with all this love and adoration if you want. I expect he'd show you as much appreciation as you could ever wish for." "He already does." "Then I satisfy something in you which Todd does not." Kristin looked back up at me, eyes burning with curiosity. "But what is that?" I shrugged, unconcerned. "That's for you to say, not me. I know what you satisfy in me -- my craving for sexual gratification." "Like a sex toy. A big blow-up doll." "You're far more fun than a blow-up doll, my dear." She stood up abruptly, raked the fingers of one hand back through her hair. If she was conscious of just how exquisite her body looked, poised there, she gave no sign of it. "Are you going to leave?" I asked, already regretting the flippancy with which I'd spoken. She stared at me intently, searching my eyes for the answer to an unposed question. At last she said, "Not unless you want me to." "I'd like you to stay," I said, just slightly too quickly. More languidly I added, "If you promise to stop moping so much." She grinned reluctantly. "No more moping. I promise." Then: "I do know why I'm here." She was expecting me to prod her, to ask her why. Instead I just watched her and waited. She shifted her weight, clasped her hands together behind her back, and finally chortled uncomfortably. "I'm here for you," she said. "For your pleasure." "We already knew that," I said. "I just needed to make sure there wasn't anything more to it." I smirked at her. "Go get me a Coke." "Yeah, okay." She strolled over to my kitchenette. I watched her go, naked, head down, shoulders stooped, hands still behind her back. I was afraid she might start crying, but as she reached into my fridge she spoke without a quaver in her voice: "You want rum with it?" "What good is Coke without rum? But not too strong -- no more than half and half." I turned on the TV and flipped the stations, settled on ESPN SportsCenter just as Kristin brought my drink. I had not put my pants back on, and Kristin settled onto the sofa at my side, facing me on her knees. Her hair fell like a tent over my crotch; I felt the warmth of her breath. "Is it okay if I suck it while you watch TV?" she asked. "I think that's a splendid idea." Her mouth felt magnificent, but having only just climaxed, my cock responded sluggishly to her efforts. With the added distraction of the television and my drink, I succeeded in staving off an erection for the better part of twenty minutes. But Kristin was undeterred by my stubborn flaccidity, sucking and stroking without surcease until eventually I felt the heat and weight of blood coursing back to the tissues of my cock. She sensed it as well, that incremental thickening and lengthening, and she immediately redoubled her efforts. I picked up my half-finished drink and gulped it down in one long swig. By the time I had drained it my cock was fully erect. With a hearty sigh I held out my glass and said, "Go make me another one of your excellent drinks." Kristin lifted her head, grinning impishly. "Are you sure it can't wait?" "Why should it wait?" She lowered her face back onto my cock, until her lips were mingled in the hairs of my pubis. She bobbed there for a few moments, and then raised her head again. "That's why." "Get me a drink." "Okay." She mixed another drink and brought it to me, settled herself next to me on the couch and took my cock in her hand, stroking it slowly. "I love how big it gets," she said. "Mmph," I said, gulping from my glass. "I hold Todd like this," she said, holding up her left hand with the thumb and first two fingers separated by about an inch. "And I get him hard like this." She mimed jerking off the imaginary little cock in her left hand. "That's a shame. Does he ever make you cum?" "I can usually cum. When he gets hard, he doesn't ... I mean, it takes him a while to ... " I ignored the sudden awkward end to her sentence. "Maybe he's gay. He's got to pretend he's with a boy while he's having sex with you, so it takes him awhile to get off." "He's not gay," said Kristin. "He loves me." "And what do you feel about him?" "Grateful, I guess. He'll do anything for me. I just wish he wouldn't let me walk all over him." "Why did he let you come visit me again? What did you tell him about last time?" "I told him nothing happened, that there was no spark between us. He thinks I'm visiting my great aunt all weekend, my only living relative." "You lied to him?" "You would suggest I tell him the truth? He'd want to kill you!" "Me? I'm not the one who's engaged to the sonuvabitch." "Let's ... please stop talking about it. Please." "Gladly. You hungry yet? You can take me to lunch." Kristin sucked my cock for a few seconds, then said, "Okay." I had her drive us downtown to a pizza joint on the river, a college hangout where I could enjoy her being ogled by the horny students; she did not seem to mind the attention either, and her mood quickly improved. We made small talk as we munched our pizza and I drank a pitcher of beer (she poured herself half a glass from the pitcher but took only one sip). Kristin seemed to think it was important for me to know more about her, perhaps assuming that this would strengthen our emotional connection. "You don't even know what I do for a living," she said ruefully. "I know the town you're from. I'd guess you're a receptionist." "Huh. I must have told you that and forgotten about it." "Nope. But I know Pine Grove. I'm guessing you answer phones at a car dealership." She pulled a wry face. "A pharmaceutical plant. It opened just a couple of years ago. That's where I met Todd." "What is he -- nightwatchman?" "No, smartass. He's in sales." We both laughed, and gradually Kristin's mood lightened further. After lunch we strolled along the riverwalk hand in hand. A huge cargo ship glided past, and Kristin stopped to watch it, leaning on the iron handrail. I pressed myself against her from behind, grinding my crotch against her ass. "God, Jimmy!" she whispered. "We're in public." It didn't prevent her from thrusting her hips backward to meet me. "Let's get back to my apartment," I said. "I like the river." "If you don't want me stripping you naked and fucking you on this railing right here and now, we'd better get back to my apartment." "It'd be over so fast no one would notice," Kristin muttered. "Are you complaining again?" "No, Master! Kristin knows her place!" "Very well. We'll enjoy the river for a while." I turned away from her and walked off, indulging a brief fantasy of throwing Kristin over the rail into that river she liked so much. I walked for a long time, looking neither left nor right, staring straight ahead and seeing nothing. Eventually I heard the clatter of Kristin's boots hurrying up from behind; for several minutes she walked in silence by my side. "I'm sorry," she said at last. "I'll tell you what annoys me," I said. "The way your fucking attitude swings back and forth. First you say you're happy being whatever I want, then you act bitter about it, then you tell me you're sorry. What's it going to be, Kristin?" "Are you going to send me away?" "You're free to go -- or to stay. I thought that was understood." "I want to be with you." "Then stay. Just stop complaining." "I'm sorry, Jimmy. I don't know why I said that. I was just trying to be mean. You satisfy me in every way, I want you to know. The first time I came up here, and you finally put it in my puss -- I said that mean thing about how you started cumming in like one second. That was me -- I started cumming the second you put it inside me. And I could tell it was going to be huge, like the biggest orgasm I've ever had. That's why I was frustrated when you pulled out, because it stopped me from cumming." She paused for several seconds, and I could tell she was staring up at me, but I didn't turn my head to her. "You've got a magic cock, Jimmy!" she said suddenly, laughing self-consciously. "I want to make it happy. I don't know why, but I do." "You're forgiven," I said. * * * We returned to my apartment, where she immediately stripped back down to her boots. Then she pressed herself against me, imploring me with her eyes. "What can I do for you, Jimmy? You want another drink? Will you let me make you cum again?" "You know, there's one hole of yours we haven't tried yet." I noted the tiniest flicker of fear and distaste in her expression, then she recovered and feigned incomprehension. "What do you mean?" "You know what I mean," I said, reaching down to grab and squeeze both her ass cheeks vigorously. "Oh, I can't, Jimmy! I can't put it there. That's just gross. It's too big, it would hurt. You can't really want it in there. It's digusting. You like my mouth, and my puss. I'll make you cum so hard and so fast you won't even believe it!" "All right, since your ass is too good for me. Sit there on the sofa." I pointed. "Go on, hurry up." Kristin sat, watching me anxiously. "Lift your knees," I said. "Spread your legs apart." She obeyed, licking her lips. "Don't be mad, Jimmy," she murmured. "I can't do that one thing, okay? It's just a hang-up I have. It's not about you." I was stripping off my pants as she spoke, ignoring her. I stepped forward and shut her up by shoving my cock into her mouth. She sucked me avidly, moaning, and in a few seconds I was hard. I then lowered my cock to her sopping pussy and shoved myself inside. She lurched at my rough entrance, gasping sharply. I began to thrust and Kristin stared into my face, whimpering. "Does it feel good, Jimmy?" she whispered. "Please tell me it feels good. Tell me my puss feels good and tight squeezing your big cock, Jimmy! Please, Jimmy. Please. Oh, god, I'm going to cum. I'm going to cum already, Jimmy. I told you you've got a magic cock. I'm gonna cum for your cock, Jimmy, I'm gonna cum all over it, I'm gonna cum!" She climaxed long and hard, her entire body tensing and shuddering, her clenched fists pounding the sofa. I continued fucking her relentlessly, and she cried out with gratitude, thanking me in half-coherent sentences. After a very long time her orgasm seemed to subside; she clutched herself by the tits and squeezed, stared into my face with her jaw clamped shut. "Oh, Jimmy!" she gasped, spraying spittle over her chin. "You keep fucking me! You just keep on fucking me! It feels so good, you're so fucking deep. I've never been fucked like this before. I love your cock! I love that big hard cock going in and out of me. I love watching it go all the way in. I love it. I want it to cum now, Jimmy. I'll never say mean things about it again. You can cum now, Jimmy. You showed me what I dumb bitch I am, you fucked me like I haven't been fucked in all my life. I want your cum, Jimmy, please let me eat your cum!" I kept fucking her, feeling like a machine, my cock almost numb to the considerable pleasure of her little cunt. Eventually her words devolved into moaning and gasping, and I continued to pound away. For several minutes I jackhammered that pussy, until Kristin's eyeballs rolled into her head and she groaned so loudly she must have been heard in the parking lot. "You're doin' it -- again!" she cried. "I'm cumming again, Jimmy. I haven't stopped cumming, I'm cumming again, I can't stop. Thank you, Jimmy! Oh, fuuuuuuck, thank you, thank you, thankyouthankyouthankyou!" When her climax ended I pulled out of her, my cock red and swollen, and stepped back. She stared at me with eyes bright and round, leaned toward me with mouth half agape in anticipation. I let out a long sigh. "Are you satisfied now?" I asked. "Aren't you going to cum?" I shook my head. "Not this time." "Please, Jimmy," she said. "I want you to cum!" Her right hand was at her crotch, fervently rubbing her clit. "Another time." "What other time, Jimmy? Why won't you cum?" "That's enough, Kristin. Shut up." "You wanted to prove what a dumb bitch I am, and you did it. You showed me." She leaned forward, mouth wide, and I allowed her to capture my cock, to suck her fluids from the shaft. I allowed her to suck me for a few minutes, and she worked with such enthusiasm that I feared I might not be able to hold back an orgasm. I debated between pulling my cock out of her face before it was too late, or simply surrendering to the orgasm; I knew if I delayed too much longer the decision would be made for me. I was still on the knife-edge of indecision, my impending climax almost unavoidable, when Kristin yielded abruptly; she sat back on the sofa with a tremendous sigh, breathing heavily. What Worser Place? "You won't cum," she gasped, defeated. The growing strain of near-climax began to ebb. "Not right now," I said, with all the firmness I could muster. "You can try again later." Kristin uttered one of her inscrutable huffs, a pout flickering across her lips. "Do you want me to stay naked?" "Of course." Kristin nodded, crestfallen. She was slumped on the sofa, buttocks hanging over the edge of the cushion, her knees pressed together. "You had me thinking I was something special," she said, mumbling. "That you couldn't help but cum when I touch you. But I'm not special, am I?" "I don't see why you say that." "I'm a slut." "Because you like sex?" She kept her eyes averted to the floor, would not look at me. "I'm just your slut, aren't I? Isn't it true?" "Does that bother you?" "I've told you I'll be anything you want me to be. I don't want to just be your slut, I want to be very much more, but if that's all you want me to be, then I guess that's what I'll be." "What I want is for you to stop whining and moping." "Yeah, Jimmy. I'm sorry. I just didn't know I was a dumb slut until now." Finally she looked up at me, haggard and dejected. Her features had lost their glow; the immaculate makeup seemed merely a tawdry mask. The transformation was striking, incomprehensibly alluring. Compulsively, I reached down and grabbed her ankles, yanked her legs upward. "What're you doing, Jimmy?" she cried, as I thrust her legs apart. "You're gonna use me again?" I was already rubbing the head of my cock against the wet folds of her pussy. "Are you gonna make yourself cum?" she asked eagerly. "I didn't mean to whine, Jimmy, I really didn't. You can use my ass, Jimmy, if that'll make you cum faster! I shouldn't have told you I wouldn't do that for you -- I'll do anything you want!" Her unexpected offer immediately made me alter my intent. I fixed my glans against her asshole and forced myself inside. I watched her sphincter dilate, widening immensely as I slid inside. "Jesus!" gasped Kristin, wincing. "Ow, ow, ow!" She stared into my eyes, smiled through her grimace. "It feels like you're shoving a hot poker in me!" I could feel only the pressure of her sphincter encircling my shaft; the inside of her rectum was so soft it scarcely made an impression. I entered her slowly, crushing her into the sofa cushion. "Oh, that's deep, that's big!" Kristin babbled, clenching shut her eyes. "It hurts, Jimmy. Do you like it? Does it feel good? Oh, damn, I love it. I think I could cum." When my hips jarred against the backs of her buttocks I scowled and came, my cock twitching violently. "I can feel it!" moaned Kristin, writhing beneath me. "Oh, yeah, Jimmy -- I love your cum, it feels so good!" She stared at me with an intensity I'd never seen before, her eyes blazing, biting her lower lip so hard her teeth were sure to leave an impression in the flesh. "Don't pull out yet, Jimmy," she pleaded, voice husky. "Just leave it in there, all the way up in my ass. Tell me it feels good." I felt her sphincter squeezing the base of my cock -- releasing, then squeezing again. She cringed, rapidly tensing and relaxing her asshole. "How does it feel, Jimmy?" she asked, a plaintive whisper. "Does it feel good? Ohh, it feels good to me." Her voice was rising in pitch, punctuated by irregular gasps. She suddenly shoved one hand to her mouth, bit down hard on her knuckles. "God, Jimmy, it's so fucking big -- how do you keep it so fucking hard? You're gonna make me cum again, Jimmy! You're gonna keep it there 'til I cum all over it again!" She glared at me, brow creased and eyes narrowed, lips drawn back in a rictus of agonized pleasure; the hand she had been biting was now between her trembling thighs, rubbing her clitoris. "Goddammit, Jimmy," she whined, turning her gaze to our point of intersection. I began to pull out of her, hindered by the surprisingly hard grip of her pulsing sphincter. "Ohhh, Jimmy!" she whimpered. "Not yet!" The hand at her clitoris was a blur. "Let me cum!" Heedless, I yanked myself out of her; she cried out, her body gave a single convulsion and she clapped her thighs sharply together around the hand still working at her crotch. She threw herself onto her side, groaning deeply into the sofa cushion, biting the fabric. Her hips shuddered, her ass cheeks quivering as she came. After a few seconds she sat back up, breathing raggedly. "You just stuck it in me and made me cum!" she said in tone which seemed balanced between accusation and marvel. "I never wanted to have anal sex; I knew I wouldn't like it. But then you just stuck it in me and I knew right away you were going to make me cum." She looked at me sheepishly. "Are you mad at me, Jimmy? Did you not want me to cum? You pulled out just when I started, because you didn't want me to cum, did you? I should've asked. I should've asked if it would be okay for me to cum. I'll ask you first from now on, okay? And if you say no, then I won't, okay, Jimmy? I'll only cum when you say it's all right. Please don't be mad at me. Please, Jimmy." She looked at me quizzically, seeking encouragement. "Yeah," I said. "I'll let you know when you can cum." Kristin was almost breathless with excitement. "You cum whenever you want, and I'll only cum when you tell me, okay?" I nodded, equally amused and annoyed by her enthusiasm. "I just want to make you happy, Jimmy. What can I do now? Can I clean your apartment? I'll stay naked and clean everything, and you can just watch me. Is that good?" "Make me another drink. Then you can clean my bathroom." "Yeah? Is that what you want, Jimmy? You want me to clean your toilet naked while you watch?" "Go make me a drink," I repeated. "Then you can clean the toilet." She rolled off the couch and rushed to the kitchen; I put my pants back on and settled onto the sofa. I watched Kristin pour my drink, grinned at her as she sauntered naked toward me holding the tumbler carefully in both hands. "Here it is," she said, kneeling. "I hope I made it just right." I had never seen her eyes so bright. I sipped the drink. "Perfect," I said without inflection. "You'll watch me clean?" asked Kristin, nodding eagerly. I took a deep swig, then saluted her with my glass. "It better be spotless when you're done." "I won't stop cleaning 'til you're satisfied," Kristin vowed, standing. She started for the bathroom, watching me over her shoulder. "Go and get started," I said, taking another drink. "I'll check on you in a few minutes." I turned on the TV and flipped through every channel twice before deciding that I would find more entertainment in watching Kristin clean my bathroom in the nude. I stood up, drained the last watery dregs of my drink, and strolled to the bathroom. Kristin was on her knees before the commode, grunting softly as she scrubbed the stained bowl with a stiff brush, her breasts swaying violently. A cloudy haze of Clorox hung over the bowl, in her face, powdering her shoulders; a film of perspiration glistened on her back. I leaned against the doorjamb, fascinated by the gracile bulge of her triceps. With a heavy sigh Kristin paused and glanced toward the door; seeing me grinning at her, she blew a long strand of hair out of face and shook her head. "Have you ever cleaned this bathroom?" she asked. "Been waiting for you," I said. "I believe it! Jesus, it's filthy. I need to come more often so I can keep it clean for you." Before I could respond, she turned back to her work. I watched her a few minutes more, then without a word I stripped and stepped into the shower. As I was lathering up under the stream of hot water, Kristin thrust her head around the edge of the curtain. "Feeling dirty?" she asked. "Getting ready for a date." "Yeah? Who with?" I ignored her question. "Get back to work. I assume this place will be spotless when I get home." Her head did not move; her expression had gone suddenly blank. "Where are you going?" "I explained to you once already that I have a date." "I want to know who with." "If you were my wife -- or even just my girlfriend -- you'd have every right to know." She waited for me to continue, but I did not. "You expect me to be here when you get back?" she asked, suddenly glowering. "No one forces you to come, or to stay." I finished my shower and toweled off. Kristin was no longer in the bathroom. I dressed without haste -- jeans, t-shirt, sneakers. When I went to the living room, I found Kristin slouched on the sofa, wearing her panties. She spared me only the briefest glance. "Looks like a very casual date," she said. "Who is she?" "No one you'd know. If you decide to stay, make yourself a drink." Kristin glared at me. "You'd better not bring her back here." I shrugged. "Depends on how well the date goes." I left, and spent the next three hours wandering the riverfront, trying to figure out exactly why I had lied to Kristin. It had been an unnecessary cruelty. I was feeling utterly drained, physically and emotionally, and wanted only to get out of the apartment and away from Kristin for a few hours. I visited three bars and drank a few pints, flirted half-heartedly with a female bartender. I hoped Kristin would decide to stay, yet I somehow dreaded finding her still there when I returned. When I did finally go back to the apartment, near dusk, the first thing I noticed was her overnight bag sitting in the foyer by the door. I walked into the living room and found Kristin, still sitting on the sofa. I might have thought she had not moved during my absence, except that her panties were now lying in a wad on the floor, and a half-empty glass of rum and Coke sat on the table by the sofa. "Surprise," she said listlessly, without looking up. "How was your date?" "She was nothing special. I ended it early." "You didn't bring her home with you?" Kristin's face was ruddy and bloated; she had been crying. "No." "I was going to leave," said Kristin. "I really was. And then I thought maybe I would wait until you came home, and hopefully you would have her with you and I could confront you. And I started thinking about what I would do." Kristin looked at me, her lips pressed tight together, her eyes pained. "I'd be waiting here naked when you came back with this other woman on your arm, and I'd say to you, 'Please let me keep pleasuring you the way I know how, Jimmy!' I would grovel for you, right there in front of this woman. I'd look her straight in the eyes and beg you to fuck me in the ass again, and to cum in my mouth." Kristin still had not met my gaze; she slouched low on the sofa, shoulders hunched, hands lying atop her belly, fingers interlaced. "I thought about what would happen if I did that -- and you know what?" I said nothing. "I got excited," she continued. "I touched myself and fantasized about what would happen." "Tell me what you fantasized." She looked up at last, but her eyes fell short of mine, halting at my chest. She gnawed her lower lip. I crossed my arms and frowned to convey my impatience. Kristin spoke with reticence. "I imagined that this other woman was very beautiful, and that she knew how to please you just as well as me. And--" "Touch yourself," I interjected. "I want you to masturbate while you tell me what you fantasized." Kristin's mouth fell open. Then, abruptly, she moved her hand to her crotch, kneading her clitoris with the tips of her fingers. She sighed softly. "I imagined that we -- I don't know, that we challenged each other -- who was better at pleasuring you. And I tried as hard as I could, but she was a lot better, and you preferred her. And I had to beg not to be sent home." She stopped speaking and stared at me, still stroking her clit rhythmically with her fingertips, breathing heavily. "Tell me the rest," I said. Kristin groaned and cringed, arched her back. "Don't make me, Jimmy," she whined. "Please don't." "Keep playing with yourself and tell me the whole thing. Then I want you to look into my eyes while you cum." "Jesus, Jimmy!" cried Kristin, shocked. She clenched her teeth and her hand moved faster between her legs. "I beg this woman to let me stay here, and she makes me use my mouth on her. I can only stay if I keep you both satisfied, and --" she gasped sharply and shuddered "-- and I'm like a dog, like a pet! She makes me stay on all fours all the time, and I wear a collar, and I eat out of a bowl on the floor and wait at your feet and obey every command -- And please, Jimmy, I'm gonna cum, is it okay for me to cum now?" "Look at me. I want your eyes on me when you cum." "Yes, Jimmy! I'm gonna ... I'm ... " The muscles in Kristin's jaw spasmed violently. Her body curled around the hand working avidly at her clit, knees drawn up, back curved forward; she struggled to keep her head up, her eyes narrowed to slits but locked on mine. "I'm cumming, Jimmy!" she cried. "I love cumming for you, I love you watching me cum!" Her body thrashed, bucking her onto the floor at my feet, where she continued to cum for the better part of a minute, helpless, pathetic, crying out to me incoherently. When she was done she lay on her side quivering and panting, her head resting by my shoe. "Did you finish cleaning my bathroom?" I asked, nudging her chin with my toe. "Bathroom and kitchen," she said, sitting up and propping herself on one violently trembling elbow. "Catch my breath first. Then whatever you want. Carpets need vacuuming." "Yes. Vacuum the carpets. Then you'll make dinner." She turned her face up to me, smiled shyly; her cheeks were flushed scarlet. "Yes, Jimmy. Thank you." We did not leave the apartment for the rest of the weekend. On Sunday evening, after we had said our goodbyes in the foyer, Kristin suddenly dropped to her knees and unbuckled my pants. She took me from completely flaccid to cumming in her mouth in 92 seconds. "Goddamn!" I gasped as my spasming balls emptied themselves. "Good girl!" Kristin swallowed my spunk and rebuckled my pants. "I wanted the taste of you in my mouth for the trip home." "Then I want you to play with yourself while you're driving. Make yourself cum." I had not allowed her another orgasm since Friday. Her eyes glowed. "Do you think it's safe? What if I wreck?" "Then at least you'll go out in a blaze of glory. Are you going to do it?" "If it's an order, I have to." "Yes. On the way home, make yourself cum." "Anything in particular you want me to imagine while I'm touching myself?" "Yeah. Just how the fuck you're going to keep me satisfied on your next visit." Her eyes gleamed. "Is that an invitation, Jimmy?" "Obviously. Thanks for the outstanding blowjob. I'll let you know when you can come back." Kristin nodded. "All right. You whistle and I'll come running." She grinned, bowed her head to hide her blushing.