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Working with the Girls Ch. 01

By: Chaingun



When I first moved to Florida, I took a job as a bartender for several reasons. One, it was what I had done back home in Pittsburgh at a small college bar near Carnegie-Mellon University. Two, I have always been a night owl so staying out late was second nature to me. And third, I tend to be pretty social, always talking to people, telling stories, and flirting with the girls. The constant stream of college aged girls, sorority chicks, and young married women out on the town created a feeding frenzy that kept me chasing tail all year long back in the Iron City. Between the bar's cocktail waitresses and their married friends looking for some discreet action, I felt like I was getting my share.

But in Florida, things were different. When I arrived, I was twenty three, knew no one, and was in danger of yanking off my cock from pulling myself around the room out of lack of company. I fell back on the old adage that says "that you go with what you know" and decided that some of the girls I worked with might be prime candidates for dates. I already knew them, only had to go to work to see them, and several of them were in the age range that I usually went for at that time. Several of the girls that worked in the restaurant were pretty nice looking, but the problem was the crappy uniforms that they had to wear while waiting tables. These things looked like old curtains from a Denny's that was about to be torn down before somebody salvaged them and turned them into the shapeless blouses and skirts that these poor women had to wear. One of my favorite daydreams involved Angela, a tall thirty year old waitress. I desperately wanted to check her out, but that uniform stymied my attempts to ogle her figure.

As I became friendly with Angela, this unflattering outfit was the subject of several of our conversations. She would come to the bar, which had to double as the service bar for the restaurant when it wasn't busy during the day, and take the opportunity to visit with somebody who wasn't demanding anything from her. Her contention was that many waitresses "show off the goods" as a way to help earn more tips but that the blouse and skirt she'd been given did nothing to show off her boobs or legs, both features that she was apparently proud of. The skirt, which hung below her knees, hid her long legs. This coupled with the black athletic shoes that they wore while running busily through the morning rush, left her feeling frumpy and unattractive. As our friendship grew, this uniform and what it did to her self-image was a constant theme of our conversations. As she grew more comfortable with me, she began to ask my opinion of her look. I replied that I didn't know if it was proper for me to tell her what I thought, since that kind of talk is frowned upon in the work place.

"But, I'm asking you what you think. I don't care about suing the resort for the 'hostile working environment' created by the bartender telling me what he thinks about my looks."

"But Angela, it's not the resort's policies that I'm worried about. It's your reaction that concerns me." After she gave me a puzzled look, I continued, "I could say what I think about your appearance, but I don't want you to think that I think of you that way. I try to treat my friends with respect, and I'm afraid that all would end if the truth about how you look to me was put into words."

She leaned towards where I was standing at the bar and with a wry smile said, "Honey, if you were going to get slapped, I would have done it weeks ago. You've been watching me since you started here. I catch you every once in a while, but the other girls tell me all the time about the fascination you seem to have with watching me walk. Do you like my legs?" she asked teasingly.

I must have turned red, because she gave a little laugh, picked up the Bloody Mary that I'd made for some tourist's breakfast, and hustled off to deliver it. I thought that I detected a little extra sway to her hips as that magnificent ass walked away from me across the lobby towards the restaurant. As I started to drift into a daydream about what the tall German girl and I might do if given the chance, I caught a movement out of the corner of my eye. The young girl who worked the snack bar had caught the whole scene from behind the windows of her counter. "Now I know who's been telling her about my secret crush on her." I thought. That little brunette, Paula, seemed quiet and reserved, but apparently when I wasn't around she'd been doing her share of talking with Angela. I filed that away in case it ever came up again and went back to imagining what Angie must look like without the formless uniform that hid her beguiling curves.

Well, her visits to the bar were pretty regular. Even when the diners who ordered drinks with their breakfasts weren't in her section, the other waitresses would give Angela the ticket and let her come pick up the drink so she could spend time with me. Apparently they all were talking about my interest in her over there. I didn't mind because I enjoyed getting to know her.

She had come to America when she was only 15, and after fifteen years and two children, found herself single again and trying to raise the kids on her own with only her older sister's occasional help around the house. Olga had arrived here later and been in the country for less time so that even though she was older than Angela, her English was not as good. Where Angela was tall, slim, and sleek like a German Olympic runner, Olga was softer with more curves to her hips and breasts. But the gruff exterior that she presented always made me cringe when she was around. Her guttural language, unsmiling demeanor, and low tolerance of her sister's friends always made me wonder if it was possible to melt that Teutonic attitude. Olga rarely visited her sister at work and if she did and found Angela in the bar speaking with me, she always made a point to speak in German to her sister and would glance deridingly at me to make sure that I knew that I was being purposely excluded.

Later, when the oft-discussed topic of earning better tips came up again, Angela pressed me for the opinion that I had held back several weeks before. Trying to maintain a gentlemanly demeanor towards her, I again hesitated to describe what I thought of the great body she was hiding beneath that shapeless costume. "David," she said with that beautiful accent, "what do you think? Why won't you tell me what you think about me?"

"Angie, I could tell you, but it might not come out in a gentlemanly manner."

"You can tell me. I'm a big girl. Do you want to ask me out? Do you like my body?" As she said this, she made a little turn that caused her skirt to ride up above her knees. When she turned back toward me, she caught me checking out her legs. "Go on. Tell me that you like my legs...if you do. Don't you think I could earn some better tips if people could see them?"

I told her that certainly she could, but I didn't know if she was willing to wear heals all day while serving orange juice and toast. When she looked at me questioningly, I explained that her long legs would be wonderfully accentuated by a pair of black pumps rather than the cheap black athletic shoes with flat heels that she normally ran around in. If she was to look slightly sexier, she might make better tips from the men who paid their families' tabs in the café. It was like a light bulb going off above her head. She lit up and exclaimed, "That's it; I can do that. I like to wear heels when I'm not at work, but I never have a reason to wear them. I'm going to try it."

The next few days were probably hell on her legs and feet, but they were even harder on the trousers of my uniform. I worked to stay behind the bar to hide the constant hard on that those fantastic legs caused me to develop. Once, when the bar was slow, I considered going into the back store room to jack off. Watching the change in her attitude and the added length and definition of her slender legs had me so horny that if I wouldn't have been afraid of getting caught, I would have covered the back walls with semen. 

I was so distracted by trying to catch glimpses of her across the lobby that I completely missed my boss walking in the other door to the bar. Since I was standing in profile to Amy, my hard on must have been very visible in my pants. When I heard the door shut automatically behind her, I was startled and turned toward the sound. There stood the tall food and beverage manager staring at me while trying to suppress a laugh. As she quickly looked away from my bulging crotch, I started to explain but realized that there was no explanation for standing in an empty bar staring at a hot blond with a raging erection. The awkward moment was ended when Angie walked into the bar and announced that she needed two Screwdrivers for one of her tables. 

As I mixed the drinks, Angie watched Amy move about the bar as she checked to see that I had done all of my prep and side work. Angie seemed to be watching how our manager moved in her short skirt and high heels. Amy always dressed very professionally but did nothing to hide her awesome figure that she had earned by playing volleyball all through high school and later, on the beaches on her days off. It was fascinating to see how Angela took in everything about Amy's purposeful strut and the way that her hips moved beneath her skirt. I watched this all in the back bar's mirror while I poured the orange juice over the vodka. It wasn't that I thought Angela had bisexual tendencies, but that she was trying to learn by watching how the authority figure in the red high heels and skirt used what natural assets she'd been given. As I finished up, Amy walked closely by Angela and whispered something in passing to her. Angela's smile and downward glance hinted that it might be about me.

When Amy's curvy shape had disappeared around the corner, I carried the drinks to Angela and placed them on her tray. "Was she talking about me?" I asked.

"No, she didn't say anything about you. She told me that she appreciated having a waitress working for her who wanted to dress professionally." My raised eyebrow prompted her to add, "She says that I look good in heels." I told her that I agreed and wondered aloud whether it was getting her better tips. She said that indeed it had because she felt like not only were men looking at her, but that her tips had gone way up in the days since she'd been wearing the high heels. I told her that what was really causing the new interest in her was the constant smile and energetic attitude that she brought to her job. "You seem happier but I think it's because you feel sexier." I told her.

"You're probably right; I do feel sexier. Why don't you take me out tonight?" she impulsively added. It surprised me but I couldn't deny her. "Hell yeah, I'll take you out. I've wanted to ask you out for weeks but between your sister not liking me and the time you spend with your kids, I was afraid you didn't have time for a social life. Plus, once you knew what I thought of you physically, I was afraid that I'd messed up whatever chances I might have had at getting to date you."

"Why date when we can go to my place and we'll see what happens?" she laughingly retorted. "Olga is watching the kids tonight, I'm going to cook something simple, and then we're going to watch TV. Besides, who cares if Olga likes you; I do and that's what matters." My surprise at her directness and pre-planning of an evening with me made her laugh. "Don't worry. It'll be great. I'll dress sexy for you." She pecked me quickly on the cheek and before I could react, she was gone. 

I thought my cock would explode through the bar from watching her walk away and the thoughts of what was to come, but I stood still and tried not to get caught with a hard on by anybody else walking unexpectedly into the bar. Knowing that Paula was probably watching from behind the snack bar's tinted windows helped me remain nonchalant. 

That night, I arrived at her house which was nestled on a cul de sac in a quiet neighborhood. When she opened the door, her smile and greeting only served to make my constant hard on even harder. She was wearing a pair of red heels now, a short black skirt, and a simple white blouse with buttons up the front. What distracted me from taking in any more of her elegance was the fact that her beautiful tits were unrestrained by a bra. They visibly moved independently of each other beneath the sheer white fabric and the light pink of her stiff nipples was clearly tenting the fabric above each lovely breast. She caught me staring and smiled radiantly. "Come in and have your sandwich." she said. "Olga picked up the kids twenty minutes ago and I've been trying to wait patiently for you." Her long, blond hair hung about her shoulders and framed her fair skin and blue eyes perfectly. We ate bacon sandwiches and sipped cokes while imagining what the coming night would bring. For my part, I was slightly nervous and stared at her. She was older than me and a lot more direct about what she wanted than any of the women closer to my age that I had been with. 

She finished her sandwich and turned in her chair to let her crossed legs come into view from beneath the table. As one of the heels dangled suggestively from her toes, she looked questioningly at me and said, "I asked you earlier and you didn't answer. Do you like my legs?"

"Of course I do. What's not to like? You're beautiful and you know it. Your attitude about everything is contagious. You're a happy person and that makes you hot. I love your long legs, those sexy heels, and the way they make your butt move when you walk. I couldn't imagine you being able to make me hornier than I am right now."

"Well, then let's go into the living room. I'm pretty interested in you too." As she said this, she stood up and started walking towards the living room. She unbuttoned the top button of the blouse and stopped there, hinting that uncovering anything else would have to be done by me. Her look said volumes and I moved to her. I took her in my arms for the first time and it felt like she was on fire. I've never felt someone so hot. I wasn't sure which of us would melt first. 

I kissed her, hesitantly at first, but we both became more aggressive, our mouths devouring each other, our tongues exploring the other's mouth, and hands roaming over the other's body. As I unfastened the buttons of her blouse, our trembling impatience got the better of us. I found my belt, zipper, and pants being roughly tugged at while simultaneously, I worked to free those beautiful, fleshy globes from their confining blouse. As each tit was exposed, I hungrily sucked and nibbled at it. Her back arched and whimpers came from deep in her throat.

She briefly halted my suckling to push me down onto the couch in a sitting position. While I shucked off my pants from where they had pooled at my ankles, she stared straight at me and lowered the blouse from her shoulders. It hung limply around her waste, tucked in to the tasteful skirt. Man, was she hot! I sat back and watched, preparing for a night that would be one I would not soon forget. As she reached to pull the white linen blouse from where it was tucked in, we both heard a knock on the door. Startled, Angela pulled the blouse back over her shoulders and composed herself. "Wait here." she commanded. "Don't get dressed; I'll be right back."

At the door two rooms away, I heard urgent whispering. I couldn't understand it, since it was in German, but Olga was back and she had Angie's kids with her. At last I heard Angie say, "Alright then, let's bring them in. I'll put the little sleepy heads in their beds." I caught a quick glimpse of Angela carrying her daughter on her hip towards the back of the house as she passed the living room doorway. In her bare feet, she padded silently past and sneaked a quick look at me where I tried to cover my erection with my pants. When I heard her coming back down the hall to get her son, she was softly singing a lullaby in German. She took the little boy from Olga's arms and said, "I'll just put him in there with his sister and I'll come back to say goodbye to you." I heard Olga say something in German but didn't think anything of it as I figured Angela had told her disapproving sister to stay at the door where she couldn't see me.

As Angie sang her way down the hall with her son, the little guy woke up and started talking to her. He was confused and scared but his mother reassured him and resumed softly singing to him. I wondered how long it would take her to put him down for the night because with the "evil sister" in the outer hallway, I was afraid of losing my hard on. I gave it a couple of quick strokes and convinced myself that it would be ready to pound Angela silly if she ever got done putting the kids to bed and getting rid of her sister. As a drop of pre-cum appeared on the head, I looked over at the opening to the living room and there stood Olga. 

I froze. Sure that she was going to come over and punch me in the balls or yell something about me to her sister, I looked up at her like a student who's been caught masturbating to a picture of his female teacher. She looked down at my hard cock and my hand grasping it tightly at its base and muttered something that I didn't understand. She dropped her purse behind her, looked quickly down the hall for her sister, and crossed the distance between us. Now I knew that the moment of truth was literally at hand. Whispering to me in German, she knelt quickly and engulfed my raging penis in her mouth. A few quick pumps of her head and she had me in her mouth up to the base. Those pouty red lips stretched wide to accommodate my girth but she was able to get it all in; I even felt the head push past the entrance to her throat. "Now this is head I could get used to!" I thought while worrying what Angie would say if she was to walk back into the room and find her sister's head in my lap. 

I didn't have to wonder long, because just when I was starting to move my hips in anticipation of shooting a huge load down her throat, she abruptly pulled up, wiped her lips on the back of her hand and smiled at me. As she stood up, she said in English, "Save that for her, ok?" Then she walked out of the room, picked up her purse, and disappeared from sight around the corner. I heard the front door shut and the car start a few seconds later just as I heard the bedroom door at the end of the hallway close. Angie padded into the room, still softly singing the lullaby that she'd used to put the boy to sleep. I barely had time to ponder what had just happened, because Angie got back down to business quickly.

"Where were we?" she asked as the gossamer white blouse again slipped past her shoulders and those pert nipples crowning her wonderful breasts stiffened in the cool air of the room. I simply smiled and looked down at my hard cock, still wet with her sister's saliva. I jacked the length of it a few times while she stared intently at it and I waved it menacingly in her direction just to see her reaction. If possible, the head turned an angrier shade of purple as Angela dropped the blouse to the floor. Her tits were perfect; not too large, not too small. They sat atop her trim body like two halves of grapefruit and she pulled gently at both nipples to tease me since she was still out of my reach. Turning away from me coyly, she backed up towards me and looked over her shoulder at me. "Get the zipper please. Hurry! I'm starting to get really horny." As I reached for the zipper of her skirt, I pulled down gently with one hand while the other stealthily reached up under it and gently tickled her inner thigh. "How do you think I feel then?" I asked, "I've been sitting here on the couch nearly naked with an unused hard on while you carry children around here and your hot-but disapproving-sister is standing at the door."


Working with the Girls Ch. 01



"Unused, huh? That's about to change. Since Olga is gone, I can have that to myself. I was afraid that she was going to want to stay. That would have ruined everything since I think she wants to have you to herself."

"Forget her. We can talk about that later. But now, I want to see that skirt join the blouse on the floor. Let me look at you." I was getting impatient and wanted to finally see that body of hers.

Without turning around, Angie let the skirt drop and the only thing that was between me and the heaven awaiting me between those thighs was a small white thong. The string disappeared between the cheeks of her ass and peeked out again at the bottom where it bulged slightly with the jewel it contained. Her ass cheeks were round, firm, and smooth as could be. She watched me over her shoulder, waiting to see my reaction to the beautiful ass that she had just revealed. I was still except for the slow stroking of the snake in my lap. Barely able to contain my lust for her body, I simply continued to stare at her backside and smile. She looked at the small pile of clothes the two of us had discarded on the floor and asked, "Is it true that American men are turned on by ladies in high heels?"

"Like you wouldn't believe darlin'. I can't speak for others, but I think there's nothing hotter than a sexy woman in high heels, whether she's naked or clothed."

"Then I should put these back on then" she said as her toes started pushing around the items in the pile, separating the shoes from the other articles of clothing. Those beautiful little toes with their neatly painted nails fished around purposefully for the openings to the sexy shoes and I was afraid I was going to develop a foot fetish right then and there. Without bending over, she slipped her feet into them and stood before me now, four inches taller and looking like a centerfold model. I wasn't sure how much more I could take, since if I didn't get to touch her, kiss her, or lick some part of her soon, I was going to give up and finish myself off right there.

She turned away from me again and bending at the waste, slid the thong down her thighs. The view of those long legs topped with that perfect ass was driving me nuts. I wanted nothing more than to lean forward and pry those ass cheeks apart and finger that little snatch, play with her clit, and lick that little brown hole. She turned around and kneeled in front of me. She pushed my knees apart and looked down at my still shiny cock. I put my hands on either side of her head and ran my fingers through her long blond hair while leaning forward to kiss her. The hot breath escaping from those lips took my breath away. I was lost in that kiss; our tongues wrestled in each other's mouths while her breath came in short little gasps. I leaned back and pulled her towards me so that her tits hung down and rubbed my raging cock. The kiss went on and on while we frantically groped at each other. Our bodies were new, waiting to be explored. Later, we could settle down and properly explore and pleasure each other, but for this first time, it was hectic, hurried, and almost clumsy. I wanted to touch every part of her at once, to penetrate multiple parts of her, to taste her every essence, and stroke all of her pleasure centers.

Her hand went down to my shaft and she stroked it a few times and pulled away from the kiss. Her anticipation was tangible, and breaking the look that we shared, she went down on me. She pulled, licked, sucked, twisted, nibbled, and slurped at it while I looked on in amazement. I watched while her golden hair fell about her shoulders and tickled my thighs where it touched me. The long straight locks hung down, framing the scene of her natural beauty being defiled by my hard cock. As her motion became more purposeful she settled into a rhythm of bobbing up and down on me. I could feel the back of her mouth on every down stroke and felt the suction as her collapsed cheeks pulled on every up stroke. When she really got going, I realized that she was only using one hand. The other had snaked its way down to her wet patch and was working at pleasuring the part of her I couldn't reach. 

"Angie, slow down. Let's make this last. I can't reach anything and I am dying to get my hands on you. Let's change positions." 

She stopped mid-suck and with her distended cheeks full of meat looked up at me. I could tell that she was considering it. She pulled my cock from her mouth and grabbed it roughly below the head. She lowered her own head and stuck her tongue out to tongue my balls from the bottom to the top of my shaft and said, "Well, alright." I pulled her up onto the couch and began exploring her body with my hands and mouth. I had her across my lap on her back and my goal was to keep all of that magnificent body in motion. Her tits jiggled with my ministrations, her stomach rippled when I rubbed my way down to her crotch, and her legs never stopped squirming in anticipation of what was to come. I looked down at the pretty face in my lap looking up at me surrounded by its spread of honey hair and slowed my approach to her pussy. She hunched her stomach trying to angle it up towards my approaching hand. I teased her blond tufts of pubic hair and gently worked at accessing the folds of her pussy. As she spread her legs, those gorgeous toes wiggled and tempted my latent interest in sucking them as I touched her. Her eyes closed slightly when I found the center of her being and dipped my fingers into the wetness there. I used that moisture to slowly rub my way up her folds until I found her clit. Hard and erect, it poked out of its sheath while I stroked it as I listened to the soft gasps escaping her lips as I pleasured her.

She got more and more vocal while for my part, I found it difficult to keep my hand on her rapidly moistening slit. Her movements became unpredictable and I felt it was nearing time to switch positions. We moved to the floor and I crouched between her legs. She grabbed me by the ears and said, "Eat me later. Right now, I want to be fucked." When she pulled her legs up and planted her heels in the small of my back, I was past arguing. I reached down and grabbed my ready to explode cock. Running the head up and down her hot slit, I found the sweet spot at the bottom of her sheath and placed it in the opening. I felt her flex her cunt muscles and her lips seemed to suck at my hard shaft.

Angela made a low guttural groan and said, "Go ahead, that's it. Push it in. Let me feel it." I started my entry, pushing slowly out of concern for her. I was afraid that I might tear that little pussy up if I started off too vigorously. She was so tight that it was difficult to push all the way in smoothly, but she was soon lubricating my cock with the hot dampness that she was producing.

We pumped and pushed, sweated and swore and towards the end of our first coupling, she started babbling in German. She came while mouthing what I can only hope were obscenities and declarations of my prowess as a lover in her native language. For all I know, she could have been reciting instructions for rebuilding an Opel engine, but in my mind she was giving a speech in which she was beseeching hordes of Hun women to line up and get their chance at sampling some of my talented cock. Whatever she was saying, it set me off and my own orgasm followed soon after hers. I pumped into her with renewed vigor and froze as the jizz pumped into her. I watched her face and could tell that she was feeling my orgasm inside of her as unintelligible gibberish emanated from her pretty little mouth. To this day, I'm not even sure that she knows what she was saying in her frantic rambling.

She smiled and we lay still while our bodies and hearts rested. The glistening sweat dripped off of her brow, my heart rate returned to normal, and I realized that not only was I still hard inside of her, but that she was squeezing me with her pussy. It felt like I was being milked and any thoughts I had of resting between bouts were soon dispelled. The sensation was incredible. It felt like I was getting a blowjob, and I held my position and enjoyed it. 

She asked, "Are you ready to go again?" 

"You know I am."

"Well, since you did all of the work that time, let's switch positions and let me get on top." I wrapped my arms around her back and carefully rolled us over without disengaging from her sex. "Impressive." she whispered, "but we'll see how you hold up." 

She started out on top facing me and pushed herself down to the base of my hard on. The incessant thrusts of her pussy sliding down my cock began to push our combined liquids out of her and I felt them pooling in my matted pubic hair and running down my thighs. When she was well lubricated again, she pulled her legs up underneath her and squatting in her heels, she proceeded to pump her ass up and down, engulfing me over and over while I watched her pussy stretch to accommodate me. I reached up to tweak her nipples and help guide her as she worked. Her athletic build never seemed to tire and she watched me for signs that I might be ready to shoot again. For my part, I was getting hotter and hotter for her as I enjoyed watching her.

Then without pulling off of my up thrust prong, she slowly started to change position. In a few moments, she was facing away from me and sitting on my legs. This exposed that perfect ass to me and accentuated its curves as they thrust towards me. As the shaft of my cock was bent to force the head to hit her in the g-spot, she took renewed vigor and started to push harder and faster. I reached out to grab both cheeks of her ass and began rubbing them. As her moans increased, the tempo picked up. I pulled and prodded at her ass cheeks and thought that the sight of her asshole between them would soon send me over the edge into a second orgasm. I licked my thumb and started to slowly rub it over and around the little winking hole I found there. 

It seems that, just like pussies, every woman's asshole is different. Some are tiny and lightly colored in shades of mocha or ochre. Some gape when spread open, revealing the delicate tissue within. Others have hair around them or are deepset between their concealing cheeks. Angie's was tiny, hairless, and colored only slightly differently from the surrounding skin. Her groan encouraged me and I spat on my thumb to lubricate its efforts a little more. The thrusting of her hips slowed as she allowed me to zero in on her anus and I took a chance and spat at the tiny target. Bullseye! When she heard me spit and then immediately felt it hit her back door, she looked back at me and laughed softly, but when I pushed my thumb past her sphincter, her back stiffened and she groaned louder than ever before. 

Then she got serious. She leaned forward and grabbed my ankles for support. She hunched her back and bore down, picking up the pace while I tried to keep the knob of my thumb lodged in her asshole.

"My God, that feels so good! It's gonna make me cum." A few thrusts later and she stiffened up completely, her ass clenched my thumb, her quim tightened around my cock, and she came hard. For several seconds she hung there frozen in a silent scream with her jaw hanging slack and a faraway look in her eyes. I watched for signs of life to return to her face in the mirror on a cabinet a few feet away and when the awareness returned to her eyes, I sat up and wrapped an arm around her stomach. She had soaked me with her cum and perspiration, but I wasn't done. I was ready to get my nut and I started to thrust up into her.

As I renewed our lost rhythm, she began to thrust back at me again. Building up to my orgasm, I hoped to spark another one for her. When I felt the cum boiling in my balls, I licked an index finger and again reached between us and penetrated her clenching rosebud. She yelped and came again which set me off as well. I pumped up into her, emptying my nuts into her tight hole while I massaged her little asshole.

As we lay together on the floor, resting in the afterglow, I heard, "Mommy, I wet the bed." I rolled over and hid my private parts in surprise at the sudden intrusion of her young son. Nonplussed, Angela gathered herself and stood up, completely naked and sweaty, and scooped up the little guy and headed off to put him in her bed. "I'll clean it up in the morning honey. Don't worry. Go back to sleep." What a strange way to end a good fuck. I wasn't sure if either of us were going to be traumatized by this, but I was willing to take a chance and hang around for her return.

As she returned to the room, I marveled at her. Not only was she a vigorous and enthusiastic lover, but she looked so well-fucked that I could not quit staring. Her torso was sweaty, her long hair was wet and clinging to her head and neck, and her sparse blond pubic hair was matted in her crotch. I didn't know whether to lick her clean or start back in and fuck her silly. "He won't remember a thing in the morning." she said. "But it sure seems like members of my family are destined to interrupt our good time."

This was the first of many such episodes with Angela. In the next installment, I'm going to have to finish the stories about my fascination with Angela's anal opening, Olga's oral fixation on my cock, Paula's observations of our social lives, and Amy's secret desires involving her employees.



Working with the Girls Ch. 02



Angie and I quickly became an item. Everyone at work seemed happy that her new attitude and smiling demeanor were paying off with her satisfaction in a new boyfriend. At this point, not many people knew me well since I was not only still new to the workforce at the resort, but new to the state as well. A few of the other bartenders gave me odd glances, which I took for jealousy. Angie had a body that was difficult to hide and I knew that they'd spent many a shift talking about how they each might get a chance with her. The fact that the new guy was beating them to the goods was a thorn in their sides. It didn't matter to me; I was happy to be getting what I was getting. What none of us knew at the time, was that every bartender but me was about to get fired or would "voluntarily separate" from their employment at the resort.

I still spent my boring day shifts trying to catch glimpses of Angie as her shapely legs moved beneath her skirt. Daytime drinkers are a rare thing in a resort where the tourists spend the entire day with their families at the theme parks, so I often would have days where total sales would be less than one hundred dollars in my ten to six shift. The small back storage room behind the bar was a welcome respite when my hard on became difficult to hide while fantasizing about the tall blond waitress. Certainly it would have been unsanitary to leave a cummy mess on the floor back there, but it wasn't like I didn't think about it. The cold temperature and glaring bright light in that small space conspired to keep me on the straight and narrow. Add to this the fact that the room's only door didn't lock from the inside and there was no way I was going to do anything other than stand back there and wait for my erection to go away before stepping back out into the outer bar.

Angie still came to visit often and pick up drinks when her customers ordered a cocktail with their breakfasts or lunches. And there were times when we spent possibly too much time shooting the breeze, because the department's manager, Amy, would sometimes stroll over to see what might be keeping Angie. I kept my actions professional in the workplace though. Losing a great job by getting too touchy with anyone was not the reason I was going to give up being around so many pretty ladies. When Amy would approach, Angie would usually finish up and hustle off. Amy's curvy figure would meander through the bar to the floor to ceiling windows that looked out on the pool area where she would stand with her back to me as she viewed the outdoor play area. 

Since ours was an expensive resort, managers were expected to dress professionally and Amy's outfits were always either a dress or a skirt with a blouse and jacket. Whichever she wore, her powerful legs always were highlighted by the heels that she wore and her very large breasts were rarely hidden by the blouses whose buttons strained to hold them. I loved to watch Amy walk; she knew what each movement of her hips and legs did to the lines of her body. She had told me once that all through high school she'd played volleyball on the girls' varsity team and that what few weekend days she had off now were spent trying to get into beach games on the east coast. She was fighting a battle with weight gain that she thought she was losing. In my mind, she was just right at that time. Her extra weight had added curves where she previously hadn't had any and the new shape was sexier than the way she'd appeared in the photos she'd shown us at a party once.

On this day, Amy had on a tasteful white knee length dress and brown pumps with a matching belt around her waste. Her round breasts had jiggled as she'd walked by and I'd turned away from her as she'd passed so as not to stare. But of course, I'd caught the action of those big tits in the mirror behind the bar. She stood at the windows watching the families basking in the sun and I watched her. Bright sunlight streamed through those windows, passed through that white dress, and revealed her outline nicely. As my dad would say, "Those legs go all the way up..."

Half of the food and beverage department knew that I had begun dating Angela so I could not begin thinking about laying the department head. Correction: I could not outwardly begin thinking about it but I could sure as hell dream, right? There was something about that woman's curves that rang a primitive bell in my loins, making me want to get a chance with Amy if it ever came up again.

When Amy left the bar through the doors to the pool area, I went back to dreaming about Angela and her older sister. Olga's intrusion into our first date had left me puzzled since I couldn't figure out her attitude towards me, her interest in sucking my cock, or her insistence that Angela not find out about it. I knew that given another chance, I would let her suck on my rod again, but didn't want to endanger what I thought Angie and I might be building. Angela had never brought up her sister again, but I tried to manufacture reasons why we would see her. A few nights after our first coupling, we were in the bedroom of Angela's house and about to consummate the deed. I jokingly looked around and said, "Is your sister nearby? Should we worry about one of the kids walking in?"

Angie, wrapping her legs tighter around my middle, said, "The door's locked, the kids are asleep, and you can fuck Olga later." I plunged my cock into her again and again, visions of putting the meat to her older sister competing with the real vision of that lovely and lithe German beneath me. Later, when I'd pulled my wilting manhood from within her, I had time to reflect on what she'd said.

Acting the fool, I joked, "Wait a minute; did you say that I could 'fuck Olga later'?" I watched her face for signs of anger, but didn't catch any.

"Uh, yes. I did," she offered.

"Please tell me that there isn't a language barrier. You do understand what you're saying, right?"

She stood, cupping a hand to her pussy to try to keep our combined juices from dripping while she hurried to the bathroom. I heard her girlish tinkle then the toilet flushing. She reappeared after washing her hands and said, "Are you saying you wouldn't like to sleep with her?" Before I could answer, she answered her own question, "What guy wouldn't? She's hot, right?"

"Angie, you're hot. I do think Olga's attractive, but what gives?"

"Oh, fuck her, don't fuck her. Do what you want. In Germany, before we moved, we shared more than one boyfriend."

"So...you're saying if I ever get the chance, you're not going to mind if I ask your sister out?"

"Ask her out? She's not looking for a husband. Just fuck her. It's ok."

"What about you, Angie? Are you looking for a husband or just a fuck?"

She replied, "I don't understand the fascination with labels here. Can't we just enjoy what we've got?"

As she approached the bed, I moved to sit up at the corner with a leg over each side. My cock was back to full length and I looked from her sopping wet box to my sticky cock. "Where ya want me?" she said.

I told her to turn around and sit down on it. She quickly got the picture and straddled my legs while reaching back to guide me into her. With as much liquid as had been deposited in her quim, there was barely any resistance and she slid all the way down on the first stroke. She began to use me to bring herself off and leaned forward with her hands on her knees as she pumped her ass up and down. I watched my cock disappearing and reappearing at the entrance to her little lips and got an idea. I leaned forward slightly, and reached around her to finger her clit.

"Unnhhhhh!" she exclaimed and picked up the pace. I thumbed the little nub and pinched at it as well. "Ohhhh, ooooohhhhh, yeahhh," she wailed. I was over worrying about waking up the kids and I attacked her sensitive flap. My fingering set her off and she sat down hard so that only my balls were visible beneath her. Her cunt clamped down fiercely and I could feel her convulsions hitting her. Silently, her lips moved and nothing came out. Again, I wondered what she would be saying if I could only understand it. When she started to come down from her high, I pulled her backwards to lie on top of me with our legs hanging over the end of the bed.

The knob of my cock now hit her right in the G-spot and I flexed my hips to drive it slowly and imperceptibly into her. Back and forth I did this until I felt a more powerful orgasm strike her. Her head was lying next to mine and her torso was directly above mine. I stroked her tits as she came with one hand and the other continued to work her clit. This orgasm was massive compared to the first two and girl-juice drenched my balls and inner thighs. This sensation sent me over the edge and I coated her insides with my second offering, spraying it all into the frontal wall of her cunt.

Later at the kitchen table, we drank wine and talked. My attention was evenly divided between continuing to fuck this beautiful woman and attempting to fuck her equally beautiful sister. Although Olga was older, I was sure that her body would be just as good as Angie's especially since she had not had children. I could see when I looked at Olga that she had a great body, but the attitude she usually had towards me confused me.

"Why do you say that I can screw with Olga? She always acts as if I am a nuisance when I'm around," I observed.

"That's just the way she is. Maybe she's concerned that you'll be a bad influence on my kids." Angie finished the last of her red wine, "I know she wants to sleep with you; she's told me."

All of this was new to me. The only place I'd ever even come close to dating sisters was in high school. There'd been a hot senior when I was a junior and we'd gone out a few times. Penny was demure, sweet, and innocent. I knew that to deflower her was to defile something beautiful. We went on five or six dates and held hands like kids. Unfortunately for me, sex was the one thing on my mind and I could see that there was no getting under her skirt. The next year, I'd noticed that her younger sister, Vicky, was growing into quite the curvy young woman and asked her out. Her attitude about everything was different and I couldn't control myself when it was offered; we'd fucked in every way imaginable like we'd been in some competition to see how many ways two high schoolers could do it. But this was different.

Two mature, slightly older women apparently both wanted a piece of me. The fact that they were sisters didn't register on me as weird, or perverted. This was two very attractive, long blond-haired, big breasted, excellently gammed women. "Call her up," I joked. "Let's see if she'll come over right now."

Calling my bluff, Angie stood up. My t-shirt barely covered the pretty cheeks of her ass. I sat quietly while she dialed the phone. Some German words were spoken and answered and Angela hung up. "Come with me," she ordered.

I still didn't believe that she'd really called her sister. But all the same, I followed her to the bedroom where she shed the t-shirt and I dropped my boxers. She stood facing the bed and I pushed on her upper torso expecting that she would fall forward onto the bed. Instead, she bent at the waste and caught herself on her hands, inviting me to join with her doggy-style while standing behind her. I allowed my dong to bob up and down, brushing against the skin of her thighs and ass. She spit into her hand and reached between her legs, slapped the spit onto her pussy, and attempted to catch the prodding meat. When she felt it, she firmly grasped at it and aimed it at her hole. I felt the breath catch in her and she relaxed as she pushed back slightly onto my cock. I grabbed a hip in each hand and pushed all the way in again. 

I worked at not allowing it to progress too quickly. I purposefully held her hips and directed the motion of our fuck. The position I was skewering her in allowed me to not only control her but to watch the joining of our genitals. My cock would pull out as her clasping lips fought to hold me inside, then they would be shoved back in as my cock moved to bury itself in the quim. Wet sounds and the slapping of my balls against her pussy made obscene noises as we pushed and pulled. Again, I toyed with her winking asshole. For this assault on the orifice, I worked at simply rimming it with a wet finger. She vocalized her approval immediately and so I spit into the crevice again.

In reaction, she reached for the nightstand and pulled the drawer open then went back to holding herself up with both hands. I looked at the contents of the drawer and saw a knobby glass dildo and a tube of lubricant. I took this to mean that she wanted further anal penetration so I reached for the tube. I stood straight up behind her, slowly pushing into her where our genitals met, the only place on our bodies where we were touching. I squeezed some of the tube's contents into my right hand and rolled it around in a palm to warm it before using a super slick finger to push into her winking eye slowly and carefully.

She grew louder as I pushed the finger inside, stretching her and violating her bottom. I could tell she was trying to relax and I would often stop and let her get used to my finger's invasion of her most private place. I felt the heat and tightness of her ass and wondered if it could ever accept my cock. As she grew used to this new fuller feeling, I worked at adding a finger to stretch the opening some more. She finally accepted three fingers in her asshole, but I was worried that if I was to replace them with my cock that she would not be able to take it. That would be another magnitude of violation, an invasion I was certain might cause her pain.

She hissed, "Do it." I pulled from her cuntal sheath and compared the sizes of our equipment. My veined shaft looked huge compared to that little hole. I squeezed more lube onto my hands and stroked it up and down my shaft, thoroughly coating it. I saw her hand working her pussy hole and knew that she was preparing for the onslaught of my meat in her ass.

The knob lay in the bottom of the ravine formed by her perfect ass cheeks. I allowed it to lie adjacent to the little hole and her chance to reconsider passed. For her part, she clearly forced herself to relax and stopped playing with herself to reach around and pry a cheek open further. As her anus winked, it appeared to be beckoning to my cockhead. Its solitude was soon interrupted as I aimed the shaft at it and worked it around the edge slowly. Then I gave a tiny push and the hole worked to accept my prick. Several minutes of this accomplished the halfway penetration of her asshole. I watched at the spot where my cock was buried partially in her backside. She rocked her hips back and forth by bending each knee a little at a time, trying to accommodate my size. Another globule of lube dropped onto the shaft where it disappeared in her bottom and I pushed in a little more.

After several more minutes, I was bottomed out. She caught her breath and I began to pull out. "I can feel my insides moving!" she said as I pushed back into her. We settled down to establish a rhythm and I thought that my cock would catch fire so tight was her ass. I continued to push and pull and my concern for her comfort gave way to interest in mine. I knew that I would come soon and hoped that she was not going to be concerned about where I planned to do it. I had a handful of ass cheek in both hand as I held her open for my stroking and I was rutting at her back door like an animal.

A movement out of the corner of my eye caught my attention and I turned to catch Olga who had sneaked into the house. She was standing at the open door with the most interested look on her face I've ever seen. She wasn't doing anything cliché like stroking herself through her underwear or licking her lips; she was simply staring at my penetration of her sister's ass. "Harder," she mouthed when she saw me looking at her. "Push. Yeah, harder," she whispered softly. I watched her; worried that Angela would hear and stop the fun immediately. Having an audience while fucking Angela's ass was more than I could take. The pretty blond at the door silently encouraged me to punish the pretty blond beneath and in front of me and I worked harder. "Harder," she mouthed again and I lost it, spraying her sister's inner bowels with my spunk in a violent outburst of sweat and profanities.

Olga disappeared as my overworked piston slipped from Angela's ass in a plopping sound of liquid and lost suction. I helped her to stand upright again and she tried to get to the bathroom without losing our combined fluids. She failed as the evidence of my efforts in her ass began to seep out and run down her legs. "Poor girl," I thought, "she won't walk normal for days."



Working with the Girls Ch. 03



Luckily for her, Angela had the next two days off from her job in the hotel's café. I say "luckily", because she later told me that she'd felt so completely split in two by the previous night's anal sex that she'd tried to stay in bed all day, on her stomach of course, and watch TV. She'd had anal intercourse before, but apparently the father of her children was a smaller man than me, a fact that I later always repeated to her while laughing down my sleeve. My digs at her ex, even though he wasn't there to hear them, always forced her to blush and laugh slightly. We spoke on the phone at some point nearly halfway through my shift and she joked that even though she was uninjured, she was going to need some recovery time before we became "vigorous" again. 

For myself, I spent the rest of the day checking out girls at the pool through my bar's large windows. The difference between this time and every other time I did it though was that I was not worried about being caught in the act by my new bed partner. As I gazed at several attractive Brazilian women I felt my cock stirring in my pants. They never failed to wear very skimpy bikini bottoms over their rounder-than-most-American butts. The motion of all of those asses and the knowledge of what I'd done last night with Angela's ass had me rock hard as I watched. As usual, there was no one in the bar. Who would sit inside in a dark bar on such a beautiful Florida day?

I turned away from the window and there stood Amy, the food and beverage department's manager. She simply smiled at me and waited for me to explain what I was doing. I figured no explanation was necessary and smiled back as if to challenge her to begin the conversation. She walked past me to the window and looked out on the scene of families (and young, jiggly Brazilian girls) splashing in the pool. I stood behind her silently and watched her watch them.

She had been an assistant manager when I'd been hired, but when the man who hired me moved on, she'd been promoted. Several people in the department, the head chef and the sous chef especially, seemed resentful of the fact that a woman younger than them was now their boss. For her part, Amy kept her head up and dug in to do the best job that she could. It did not always make her popular among the staff, but I understood the position she'd been put in and treated her with respect.

I'd noticed in my six months of working at the resort that very rarely, the young girl in her was allowed to show through. I considered myself lucky to have seen it a few times. 

Once, when a bartender left the resort, everyone on the F & B staff who could get the night off went to an impromptu party thrown at a nearby resort down the road. After the group had imbibed a couple of drinks, the leaders of the party decided that we all would be a little more comfortable at a smaller, more intimate place. We headed en masse towards a small dive bar further away from the tourist area, one in which many of the local hotel employees relaxed after long shifts on their feet. The clientele was more local and the drinks were cheaper.

After about two hours of the festivities at this new place, the group had grown smaller. Some of the usual suspects paired up and left, others just left to get home to spouses, but about eight of us were left sitting in a large padded booth in a dark corner. I found myself between Amy and Paula, a younger girl who worked in the snack bar. I figured that as I got used to my new home and job in Florida, I would grow to understand the social conventions of southern girls, but for now I sipped a coke and listened to them talk. I listened quietly and deferred to my boss so as not to appear too talkative. Paula also sat quietly and listened to the other loudmouths cutting up after too many drinks.

As I looked at Paula, I noticed what a pretty girl she was. I usually didn't pay attention to her at work, because like the rest of us, her uniform didn't do much for her shape. In her casual clothes though, she was a little knockout. A fitted blouse tapered down to a slim waste and designer jeans that hugged her curves. A pair of open toed high heeled sandals completed her look, one that I found very attractive. At work, she looked like a shy, fifteen year old but out on the town, she was every bit the smart-dressing, hot, twenty one year old. I found myself thinking about what my move would be and the look in her eyes told me that it might be welcome.

When Amy put a hand on my arm and said, "Come on Dave. Walk your boss out to her car. I'm going home," I thought I saw an extremely disappointed look on Paula's face. I got up from the table, surprised by the request from our boss. I walked away from the pretty twenty one year old to escort our boss to our car. I looked back at Paula as if to say, "What can I do? She's the boss." Hoping I'd be right back, I clearly had no idea what Amy had in mind.

While we walked, I realized that Amy had had too much to drink as evidenced by her slight weaving as we walked down the long hallway to the outside doors. She hooked her arm in mine, an act which placed the back of my hand against one of Amy's big breasts. "Mmmmmm," she hummed when she realized that I was touching her. The woman's other hand kept my hand tightly in place so I couldn't move it if I'd wanted to avoid the contact. To fend off my impending erection, I kept reminding myself that Amy had a fiancé who was bigger, older, and meaner than me. On one hand, she shouldn't be driving; on the other, I shouldn't be touching her. 

My responsible bartender's sensibilities won out. I stopped her before she could get the keys in the door of her car and took them from her. "Amy, I don't think you should drive. Could you stay and talk with me?" I asked. 

Her eyes lit up, "I would like that. But why don't we go somewhere we can talk?"

"Ames, I don't think that's a good idea."

Her insistence was disarming. I've been around girls who want what they want when they want it, and Amy was certainly not in the mood to be denied. She poured on every trick she knew to break me down. She was like a large, predatory feline on the hunt. I must have been breathing in a cloud of her pheromones, as it was extremely difficult to avoid her advances. I contented myself with watching the show and sneaking the occasional peek down her button down blouse. It was open from the collar down to the third button and a heavenly expanse of slightly freckled flesh jiggled there, barely contained by her lacy bra.

Amy asked again, "Why don't you just drive me home and we can talk there?"

All I could think about was the flurry of rumors that would fly around the resort if I didn't walk back into the bar soon. It would be a blow to her credibility as the boss if I left with her and for my part I didn't want everyone talking to me about my night with her either. If Amy and I were ever to hook up, it was going to need to be extremely discreet.

"I'll tell you what Amy: I'm going to take your keys and hold on to them. But I will give you a choice of what I will do. You're not driving so I can either call you a cab or I can go back inside and eventually convince someone to follow us to your house. They can bring me back here to my car after you're safely at home."

"But..." she began.

"No buts Amy. You're not driving and that's that. I guess a third option would be for you to sit out here and sober up. I'm not leaving any time soon, so in a couple of hours, if you can convince me that you're up to it, I might give you back your keys."

"Well, see if anybody wants to follow us home. I'll wait here." I couldn't help but think that the way she'd phrased that was deliberate, but couldn't act on it either way right then. In any case, she clumsily tried to swing her legs into the passenger side of the car and ended up flashing me with a quick glimpse of her white panties. I shook it off and headed back inside.

When I returned, Paula's face lit up seeing that I had not left with Amy. I sat back down next to her. "I'm glad you're back," she whispered so that our co-workers couldn't hear, "these people are drunken idiots and I was afraid you were going to leave me alone with them."

"It's not that easy," I told her. I quickly explained the situation and how it was important to me that Amy not be embarrassed about her condition in public. "If we can leave discreetly so that nobody knows what we're doing, that'd be great," I continued.

"A gentleman, huh? I hope somebody like you is looking out for me if I ever get sloppy in public."

"Me too, young lady. Come on." 

We said our goodbyes and walked out into the humid night air. Amy perked up when I slid into the driver's side of her Thunderbird and started it. We backed out into the road and headed towards her home which was only about four miles away. I asked if she was going to need the window down but she didn't want her hair messed up by the wind. I didn't think that she was close to vomiting but figured it would be worth asking. 

Paula followed in her car and we soon were parked in Amy's driveway. 

"David," she said, "I'll be here alone. Are you sure you don't want to come in?"

"I'll walk you to your door, Boss, but no further. You'll thank me later."

At her front door, she tried one last time. Her arms went around my neck in a clumsy attempt at convincing me to come in. She inclined her head and moved in for a kiss. At the last moment, I turned my head and she planted one on my cheek.

"I'll see you at work, Amy."

When I got into Paula's little Honda, she was shaking her head. "'Just had to kiss her, didn't you?"

"I tried to stop her. I don't know what you were looking at."

"Yeah, you stopped her. But was that for my benefit or hers?"

Since when are girls this age so perceptive? When thinking about it after all these years, I can't answer honestly. I probably stopped Amy from continuing for a couple of reasons. One, Paula was sitting where she could watch it happen and going into the house with Amy would have been unacceptable considering the favor that Paula was doing both of us by helping me get Amy home. Two, hooking up with Amy would certainly have ruined any chances I had of being with Paula. I wanted both, so they had to be kept separate. And three, even though I wanted to sleep with Amy, if and when I did, it would be when she was more in control of herself. Knocking over a round-heeled, tipsy girl had never been my style. Half of the fun of the seduction is in the "chase"; a girl who's not in control of all of her faculties takes some of the luster from the "capture".

We drove back to the bar and my car in near silence. I still didn't know Paula well, and I was probably quiet from thinking about missed opportunities and the future ones as well. When she'd put the car in park, she turned to me and said, "That was downright noble of you, considering that you've been seeing Angie. It must have been quite an effort to resist Amy's advances. She'll be embarrassed later about this."

"Thanks. It's not every day that stuff like this happens to me you know." I thought for a second and continued, "I think we should avoid talking about this around work. Nobody in there knows she was in any condition. Let's not embarrass her."

"Agreed," she said before going back into the bar, and I went home.

But now, a few months later, Amy stood in my bar in a light blue dress. She had silently walked up behind me, a feat that was not that difficult with the soft carpet of the bar's upper lounge area. As I looked at her by the window, wondering where this encounter would lead, I resisted the urge to look down and check out her legs and ass. I knew that any movement of my head would be caught in the reflection of the glass so I simply stood behind her and looked at the reflection of her eyes waiting for her to speak.

"Looking at the ladies are we?"

Why lie? She'd walked right up on me while I was doing it. What she didn't know was that I had seen her reflection coming up behind me but what was the point? I was in my early twenties; I couldn't have been stopped from looking at women by anything short of poking out my eyes. "You know I am, Boss. I've got the second best job in the hotel."

She turned, "Oh, what's the first?"

I pointed out the pool bar with its roof of palm fronds and complete view of the pool area. "That one right there."

"You'll probably have that shift soon," she replied. This surprised me since the guys with more seniority usually took the shifts at the pool for obvious reasons. New guys like me typically had the inside lounge which was dead all day long. No customers, no sales, no tips. But, since it doubled as the service bar during the day, it allowed me the opportunity to talk to the waitresses from the café, a feature that I had recently begun to take advantage of. "Why would I be getting the pool bar...?" I began, but she turned to look at me with a look that stopped my inquiry. She'd said too much and I didn't push it.

I stepped away from her as a guest walked into the bar from the pool area. We may have been a little too close before I moved and I didn't want anything to appear improper. "Where're the towels, mate?" he asked. After we'd got the dripping wet Brit headed in the correct direction for pool towels, she continued the conversation.

Changing the subject, she said, "Dave, I never thanked you for looking out for me."

Since she realized that I hadn't made the transition from one subject to another with her, she continued, "At the bar...when I drank too much...remember?" Recognition arched my eyebrows. "You could have taken advantage of me. People would still be talking about it if you had."

"Amy, it's not my style to be the reason that a lady gets a reputation. You were pretty convincing though."

"Well, it's good to know that I might still have it," she laughed. "I'm sorry for the position that I put you in."

"Amy, you were pretty insistent. About what I'm not sure, and since nothing happened, I don't need to know. As far as I was concerned, you were off limits."

"Were?" she joked, "All the same, thanks."

"My pleasure," I said. "It's not often that I am in a position to help you out. I'm happy to do it."

"Speaking of things you're happy to do, you seem to be quite popular among the girls working in the café."

All I could do in reply was to blush and look down at the floor. 

"Relax," she said, "your social life is none of my business. I've already said too much."

"Too much? About what?" I asked.

"Two things: the pool bar and Angela," she finished.

She saw a movement behind me and I followed her gaze. "'Looks like you have a customer. I'll talk to you later." She left the bar in the opposite direction from the newcomer, heading out to the pool to look incredibly out of place as the only one there who was fully clothed. "Shame," I thought, "I'd sure like to see her in a bikini, or less..."

The visitor was Olga, Angie's sister. She stood in the lounge's door way and allowed me to take her in. She was clearly dressed for more than her occasional drop-in on her sister at work. A light yellow sundress and low heeled sandals gave her a look of youthful freshness and spring time. Her dress hung from her shoulders on thin straps and exposed a delightful amount of her upper breasts. Since it was impossible to wear a bra with the garment, her nipples poked at the thin fabric, clearly aroused by the air conditioning. "How cliché," I thought, laughing to myself. Her hips swung sexily as she walked towards me. She was holding something small in her hands.

"Are you really only twenty three, David?" she asked. She held out my wallet to me; I must have left it at Angie's house and here she was taking the opportunity to return it.

"Ummm, yeah. Thanks. And hello...Olga." I wondered what else she'd looked at in my wallet. Since I didn't have a bunch of credit cards, I wasn't worried that she'd done anything improper and I carried my cash in a money clip so it wasn't like she could have robbed me. "'Find anything else interesting?" I didn't know where the visit and the conversation were going so I decided just to see how it played out.

"Most guys your age have a rubber in their wallet." She looked at me questioningly and when I didn't answer, continued, "I was going to say that 'most boys your age...' but since you don't carry a rubber, you may be a little more mature than those guys." 

"I don't understand; why would not having a condom make me more mature?" Better yet, why was I standing in the middle of the lounge with this gorgeous woman and talking about rubbers in the middle of the day?

"Too many young men seem presumptuous when they carry one. The thing eventually wears a ring into your wallet, and no woman that I know trusts a condom that is old enough to wear a ring in a wallet. More importantly, no woman wants to be thought of as a 'sure thing'." 

I laughed at the explanation and remembered back to a time when I had carried one in my wallet.

"So, you stopped by to bring me my wallet? And you got dressed up for me?" I said while purposefully looking her up and down. She looked great; in fact, I don't believe I'd ever looked at her this closely before. Hell, I knew she was hot, but the nicely made up hair and face combined with this softer, more feminine look was inspiring. Inspiring other parts of me to pay attention so much that I decided I'd better get back behind my bar in case I developed a boner. It had become easy to forget about how dismissively she'd treated me in the past.

I pushed the wallet into my right rear pocket and opened the little half door that led to the area behind the bar. Needing an excuse for moving to the bar area, I asked her if she'd like anything to drink. She took a seat and told me to make her something that I thought she'd like. 

"Anything?" I asked.

"Whatever you want," she answered.

So I got to work. I quickly mixed a Pink Squirrel and strained it into a cocktail glass. The drink was nearly the color of Pepto-Bismol and she took a sip hesitantly. "Mmmm. Good," she whispered. "What is it?"

"It's called a Pink Squirrel. It's not too strong, it's not too sweet, and best of all, it's pink," I answered. 

She took a few more sips and placed it back on the bar. "Just like me, huh?" She searched my face for recognition of what she'd said. 

I thought, "Hmmm, 'not too strong,' ok. 'Not too sweet', yeah that was her. 'Pink'? What? Hey, was she talking about what I think she was talking about?" As an answer to my unasked questions, Olga just smiled and finished the drink. A little dollop of the creamy pink liquid was caught on the corner of her mouth and I handed her a fresh cocktail napkin and pointed it out to her.

After wiping it off, she asked, "Are you always such a gentleman?"

"Well, I try to be." Again, I thought to myself, "Why is she here? Where is this going?"

"It didn't appear that way last night when you were railing my sister."

I nearly choked on a coke that I'd been drinking. She laughed and continued, "I just want to know if you and I are going to get together." Damn, these girls were direct.

"Olga, I'd be lying if I said I hadn't thought of you. Angie and I talked about it last night too. It's kinda taken me by surprise though. I usually wait until one girl hates me before dating another." I refilled my coke and poured her another drink. This time I made her a Grasshopper. She silently took a sip and again, showed her approval by licking her lips.

"Not too strong, not too sweet, but...green?" she asked.

"Yeah, I didn't think you'd be able to claim that this one was similar to you in too many ways since you're wearing yellow." "'Joke's on you, Hon. I'm wearing green underwear."

I jokingly said, "I'm going to need proof of that." She gave me a mock-angry look and I said, "Oh, did I say that out loud?"




Working with the Girls Ch. 03



As an answer, Olga pushed back her chair from the bar, uncrossed those lovely legs, looked around quickly to make sure that nobody was watching, and lifted her knees just high enough to "aim" her upper legs at me and then slightly spread them. "Look," came her one word answer. Sure enough, I could just make out the hint of a mint green silk panty at the top of her legs. She closed her legs and resumed her ladylike posture at the bar. She had a satisfied look on her face and bent back to her cocktail.

"I've got to ask: why are we negotiating our future relationship right now?"

"Negotiating are we? I didn't know that you negotiated sex," she answered in a husky whisper.

"Everything is negotiated Olga. But again, why now?"

Her answer was just another in a long line of surprises for me by how direct Angie and her sister could be, "Because Angie is so sore, that she's pretty sure that she won't be ready to go again for a couple of days." (Geez, what did they feed these girls in Germany before sending them over here?) "And that's not something that can be negotiated," she finished.

Speaking of which, do you want me to call the night time bartender and ask him if he'll come in early?"

She feigned an innocent look, "And why would you do that?"

I decided to be direct too, "So I can leave here early, take you to my house, and get those panties off of you." The gamble paid off. Her eyes softened and she nodded that, yes, I should. I called my replacement and offered to work a shift for him, if he could come in early that day. "The earlier, the better," I told him. I was three and a half hours from the end of my shift but if I had to wait that long, she might lose interest or I would bust a nut from anticipation. We decided that it wouldn't do for us to be seen leaving together, so she went to wait in her car, while I waited impatiently for my replacement. She walked out and made a pirouette at the door to show me what I had in store. Freshness and springtime...

An hour later, I parked my car in my drive and Olga's Toyota sat in the street in front of my house. I didn't wait for her, but hit the button for the garage door opener and headed into the shade. She stepped out of the small car, an interesting feat to accomplish in a short dress. Her purse hung across her shoulder and her hips swayed seductively as she lazily walked my way. She was clearly prolonging my anticipation but I didn't care. I could watch her walk all day, a trait she shared with her sister. I poked at the button before she was all the way in the door and the noise of the door starting down made her move a little quicker to join me.

I stood stock still in the shade of the garage as she completed her entry. When the door touched down, all hell broke loose. The neighbors could no longer see either of us, I lived alone, and I'd had to wait too long to get her alone. I wish I could tell you about some witty or pithy conversation that we had. Maybe in a less hurried time, I would have spent more energy on a true seduction. A long, relaxed evening of working up to the sex act might make a good story. None of this happened.

Her purse hit the floor about five seconds before her dress did and roughly two seconds before I attacked her mouth. Frantic hands and desperate mouths searched and discovered. Tongues dueled, pelvises collided, and we were barely able to keep our feet. She backed me into the washing machine and fought with my belt, button, and zipper. She had me wound so tight, I knew that release was near for one or both of us. My fleshy club sprang from my falling boxers and she grabbed it roughly and pulled up. My only response to this was to hop up on top of the washer into a sitting position.

Like she'd done the first night I'd been with her sister, she engulfed my cock and deep throated me all the way to the base. She worked my rod up and down, making it slippery with her saliva and working it with her hands whenever she took a break with her mouth. The curly blond head in my lap bobbed and slurped, bringing me to a height of ecstasy quickly. She rested her mouth for a second while catching her breath. Her hands didn't stop their insistent stroking, though. "Come in my mouth. Come on," she gasped before re-engulfing my cock.

The obscene noises made by her suctioning mouth were matched only by the view of those red lips smearing lipstick all up and down the shaft of my cock. I didn't have to last long, I couldn't have lasted long. The little squeals she made while sucking me off were the last straw. I had a difficult time holding still and my hips nearly bucked me off of the washer. As the streams of cum began jetting out of my rigid cock, she pulled me out of her mouth and let it hit her in the face. She aimed it at her mouth and held it there like a porn starlet. The differences between this and thousands of cheesy porn videos though, was that it was me as the star and she never closed her eyes. She looked up at me while I came, taking the shooting creamy globs as they hit the back of her mouth, her cheeks, her smeared lips, and her chin.

When the eruption ended and I'd stopped squirming, she stood up while catching drops of spooge on her fingers and licking them from her fingers. I couldn't help but notice the juxtaposition of those long, elegant fingers with their well-manicured nails and the sloppy, sticky mess clinging to them. She pulled a clean hand towel from the neatly folded pile of laundry on the drier and wiped the rest of the it from her face. She then gave my spent cock a cursory wipe and looked around for her dress.

"Wow! Where'd that come from?" I asked.

"'Thought you'd like it. Angela won't do that for you, by the way."

"What? Why not? Wait, why are we talking about Angela again?" I asked. This just kept getting weirder and weirder.

"Well, let's get out of this garage and go talk about it. I mean, this is an ok place for a blow job, but if I'm going to get fucked and have to talk, I want a proper bed."

I led her into the air conditioned house and pointed out the bathroom where she spent about five minutes freshening up. I went upstairs and turned the blinds to dim the room, put on some soft music, and waited. 



Working with the Girls Ch. 04



Downstairs I could hear Olga coming out of the bathroom. I think she walked around downstairs for a while before mounting the stairs since it took a longer time than I expected before she came into sight. She'd left her dress downstairs and appeared in just her sandals and satiny green thong. She'd cleaned up her face and tied her long curly hair back behind her head. I however was sitting on the bed stroking my cock back to a steely hardness. When she came into view, she looked at it and said, "Well, I guess I was right about you being a man. 'Ready to go again so soon?"

"Come over here and I'll show you." I growled. She teasingly turned away and moved to the railing and looked over it at the room below. "Are all your heroes cowboys?" she asked, remarking on the way I had decorated the room below with movie stills of Clint Eastwood as Marshall Jed Cooper, John Wayne as John Bernard Books, and Sam Elliott as Conagher. Two of my cowboy hats were hanging on a specially made hat rack with two lever action rifles hanging below. An antique safe (an heirloom that I could never afford) from an ancient Albuquerque bank sat below, but she would never see the interior which was filled with ammunition and my small collection of antique western pistols. One of the "chairs" in that room was my saddle which was on a reinforced mount that allowed it to be sat without a horse beneath it. Hanging from that saddle was my rifle scabbard and a bullwhip. Spying this last item, she asked, "And are you going to use that whip on me?

"No," I laughed. "It's for driving cattle."

"I thought you were a bartender, not a cowboy."

"Well, I've been learning to use that whip on my days off at a friend's ranch. They have lots of Angus and Hereford cows that I help with."

"But don't cowboys use ropes? Where's your lasso?" She was clearly implying that if I wasn't going to use the whip on her, then maybe I could use some ropes on her.

"Florida cattlemen are not properly called 'cowboys'. They're 'cow hunters' or 'crackers' and they don't use lassos. They drive their cattle with the crack of the whip since a looped rope would just land on the scrub brush and the cow would duck under it. This isn't Texas."

Her one word answer was quiet and barely audible, "Oh."

"Didn't I tell you to come here?" My cock poked up from my lap where I sat on the bed, a product of my working it back to this state and the view of her bare ass with that little green string running up the crack.

She didn't even turn around. "Since when are you so insistent?"

I was off the bed in an instant. I came up behind her quickly and quietly. Below her line of sight so she wouldn't catch a flash of movement out of the corner of her eyes, I stopped on my knees behind her with my face level with that delectable ass. Without warning, I dragged her thong by the side strings down her legs until it pulled free from her snatch reluctantly and fell down her legs to lie on her feet. She attempted to turn but I held her legs by the back of her thighs and stopped her. Before she could realize what I had in mind, I pushed my face up and in between her legs. 

"Oh my G-G-G-God!" she sputtered as I snaked a tongue out to poke at and pierce her pussy lips. I reached up with my right hand and pushed at her middle back. It forced her to lean forward a little affording me a better angle at her sex.

My other hand continued to hold onto her left leg and my face was shoved up and into the backside of her ass. My nose was buried almost in the rosebud of her asshole, my nose nuzzled her taint, and my lips and tongue fought for access to her pussy. Since I didn't have a grip on her other leg anymore, she moved it up and stepped out of her panty. It lay there on the floor still looped around her left foot while I ran my hand up and down that leg. She decided not to fight it and grabbed the railing with both hands as I pushed my lower face harder against her quim. When she leaned over far enough, I was able to really push my face into her. 

Once her legs were spread far enough apart and she was cooperating nicely, I ran my hands up and down both legs, gently rubbing the backs of her knees, caressing her calves, and holding her ankles like handles. "What are you doing down there? Holy shit, I can barely stand up," she exclaimed as she rose up on her toes to give me better access to her hole. I pulled back from my work, my face coated in her cunt juice and thinking that the view from where I kneeled was the hottest thing I'd ever seen, and said, "Whatever I want. Lean over, I'm not done." 

She re-assumed the position that gave me greatest access to her and I roughly jammed my face back into her crack. My tongue snaked into her cunt teasing the liquids from it. I reached up with both hands and grabbed a handful of ass on both sides of my face. I pulled her open, exposing all of her. I admired this view for a second until I heard her gasp at the lewdness of it. Then I really went to town on her. I licked and lapped at the gash, dragged my flattened tongue across the bottom of her hole and up and over her tiny anal opening. 

"Oh, no, not that! D-d-don't," I heard her say, "Not my ass, please stop."

In response, I jabbed my pointed tongue back into her pussy hole, let go of her cheeks, and worked two fingers, into her searching for the G-spot. The spongy mound was right where it was supposed to be. As I continued to lap at her, I circled the pleasure button with the two invading fingers and alternately stroked her clit with the other hand. Her breathing became labored and when she bent her knees, it forced my face and hands further into her. If she continued to weaken at this rate, I would soon be holding her up by her crotch. The sounds she was making indicated that this was a distinct possibility.

The lubrication coming from her cunt was increasing and I thought that soon she would be coming. The fingers inside her began a rhythmic pumping up and down across her spot. With each down stroke, she gasped; with each push back in, I squeezed a little more liquid from her sheath. My tongue rimmed the opening, capturing all the precious drops to be had.

She howled and moaned making unearthly noises as her orgasm hit her and she nearly collapsed. I grabbed both cheeks again and held them open so that I could get all of her liquid and watch her holes convulse and spasm during the event. That virgin brown sphincter winked repeatedly right in front of my eyes as her bottom squirmed and the clenching of her pussy held my tongue nearly motionless as I caught all of the escaping liquid. My thumbs on each side of her distended lips pulled them apart and allowed me to watch her recover from her pleasure. Eventually, she started to calm down and the volume of her animal noises decreased.

Without giving her time to relax completely, I stood quickly, aimed my cock at the slippery pink hole, and stroked it in to the hilt on the very first push. "Ohhhhhhhhhhh, m-m-m-m-m-my..." she started but never finished. I soon picked up the pace in an attempt to send her over the edge into another crashing orgasm. My hands were on her back now, grasping at the narrowest part of her torso and holding her at an even lower angle over the railing. She held onto it with both hands for support as I plowed into her clutching cunt from behind.

Her hair trigger orgasms started again and it became extremely difficult to stay lodged in her. The thrashing started anew and her ass bucked as she fought to hold herself upright, to hold me in her pussy, to hold onto reality. The renewed wailing was too much to take and I fired off inside of her. I pounded at her quim, attempting to crush it with my rigid cock. She increased the intensity of her howling, I pushed harder, and stopped, holding myself inside her as far as I could get. We stood like this for several seconds and tried to regain our breaths. 

The ferocity of our fucking had drained us both and we fell back onto the bed with her on top of me still holding me in her sheath. I could feel our combined juices drying on our genitalia while I stroked slowly in and out of her from below. The head of my cock now caused her discomfort so soon after such intense orgasms and she reached between her legs to hold me still. I wasn't ready to let her off that easy, but I stopped the gentle rocking of my hips just the same. Instead, I let her believe for a second or two that I had relented then began flexing my shaft. The bulbous head rubbed softly against her G-spot and the motion made her squirm.

"Come on, stop. Let me rest," she complained. "I can't take any more. Really, please."

"Next time I ask you to do something, maybe you'll do it." To emphasize my point, I reached down, pushed her hands out of the way, and flicked her clit.

"Dammit! Stop! I'm so sensitive that you're going to hurt me." She pulled her knees up and rolled her bottom up and away from my invasive member. My cock popped out of her, soaked, still hard, and ready for more action. "Geez, get that thing away from me," she hissed. When she'd bent her knees up, her feet came off of the floor and I noticed that the mint green thong was still hanging from her left foot. Her pretty toes and boner inducing footwear were augmented by the sexy panty hanging from them. I grabbed it as she attempted to roll off of me, and it caught on her toes before snapping free. As she stood and turned towards me she held her legs together before the mess ran out of her. When she was facing me again, I made a point of wiping the cum off of my still hard shaft and giving my balls a quick swipe with the material. The silk felt good against my meat.

"Hey, what the hell...?" she began.

I interrupted her, "What do you care? You're not wearing them home, at least not today." I smiled at her, challenging her to defy me, "This is my house; I make the rules."

"Oh," her features softened, "that's how it is." She looked down the staircase and considered how far the walk to the bathroom was with a pussful of cum. "Since I'm leaving them here, can I use them too? While I'm downstairs, maybe I'll rinse them out."

I tossed the sticky thong to her and she held it between her legs as she gingerly walked downstairs. "Don't be too long; I'm not done with you lady," I called. After the last twenty minutes, I wasn't so sure about her status as a lady anymore, and I was damned sure that she wasn't going to consider me a gentleman by the time she left.

When I heard the water running downstairs, I got up and headed downstairs to make some drinks. In the kitchen, I clinked a few pieces of ice into two rocks glasses and poured two fingers of Jim Beam into each glass. I considered for a second, and downed one of them and then refilled the glass. When I heard the water stop, I was back on the bed, watching for her to exit the bathroom. The door opened downstairs and I could see the tiny thong hanging over the towel bar where it could dry. She stepped out of the small room, still wearing her heels and looking freshly scrubbed. Looking up at me, I could tell that she was trying to figure out a non-destructive way to get back at me.

She spied the saddle on its cradle and gracefully moved towards it. She turned her face back to me and with a mischievous look, threw a leg over it and stood just above the seat. I tried to play it cool, but inwardly worried that something might drip out of her onto the leather. I hoped that she had cleaned herself well, but was not about to act concerned. I picked up the remote and changed the input on my stereo. I found a rock song with a bumping beat and turned up the volume so that it filled the room, upstairs and down.

"Dance, baby," I quietly ordered, although there was no chance she could hear it over the music. She may have read my lips or not, but she started swaying back and forth. She purposely avoided my watchful eyes, but she shimmied and rocked to the beat, running her hands up and down her sides, swinging her hair around her head, and working her ass like a practiced stripper. The tease made me think of another girl but only for a minute.

The last time I'd been with a girl who was so brazen about sex had been four years before, back home in Pittsburgh. Sarah had been two years older than me, would strip, suck, or fuck at the drop of a hat and even make out with her girlfriends on dares. Every time that happened it came as a shock to the recipient, but since she was so hot, few of them resisted her. One of the nutty things I remembered doing with her was while we were sitting in the cheap seats at Three Rivers Stadium watching the Steelers beat the Browns one freezing-ass winter day. We were sharing a blanket and she attempted to jack me off under the cover with a crowd around us. I say "attempted" because I couldn't finish knowing that so many people around us probably knew what the smoking hot redhead was doing under there and it was so damned cold that all I wanted was for her to put my dick back in my pants and let me warm up. 

But by far the wildest thing she'd ever done was when she'd climbed up on a pool table and gave a roomful of men and women a show one night. She danced like an experienced pole dancer and lots of eyes in that bar gave away their desire to be with her, men and women. When she was down to only her heels and g-string, a bouncer moved forward out of the crowd and stopped her from going any further. People booed, but he'd done it on a look from the owner who was afraid that he'd get shut down if any cops walked in and saw the show going on. Sarah never paid for a drink in the town of Zelienople again and she constantly got asked where the plaid mini-skirt was that she'd removed that night. 

But here I was now watching this beautiful blond putting on the show. Her C-cup tits swayed on her tan chest and the definition of her legs while she danced in her heels made me forget about the girls back home. Having my own private striptease was certainly entertaining and I was ready to get at her body again, but decided to watch, sip my bourbon, and see where this would go. While I watched, it suddenly occurred to me that she had no tan lines. The usual white ass and tits of girls who wear bikinis at the beach were nonexistent. I made a mental note to see if I could learn where she did her nude sunbathing and wondered if Angie did too. Since both times that I had been with her sister had been in relatively low light conditions, I had not noticed much about her tan.

Olga's dancing became more erotic and she mimicked a cowboy riding a bronco. "Ironic," I thought, "since I just recently felt the same way while banging her from behind." She grabbed the horn, a no-no when riding, and moved forward as she danced and waved her other hand above her head in a circle. Her thighs brushed against the swells and she pretended to grind against the rough leather of the high, protruding horn. This made me glad that I didn't have my McClellan saddle on display since that type of saddle has no phallic device sticking up to entice impromptu grinding by would-be strippers.

I drained the last of my whiskey and stood up to show my appreciation. My erection was back at full staff and while I was standing, she could see it. "No sense in wasting it by remaining seated," I thought. Still trying to tease and pretending not to see me, she increased the intensity of her bump and grind routine. When her sex made contact with the hard leather of the horn and she bent both knees to better control her use against her clit, I put down my glass, picked up hers, and started down the stairs. With one swallow, I drained hers as well and caught the ice cube in my mouth. As I approached her, she closed her eyes and enjoyed the rubbing against her soft nub.

I bent forward and sucked a nipple into my mouth, allowing the ice cube to contact it. Her eyes flew open and her mouth went slack. Taking this to be a good sign, I grabbed her other breast in my hand. I clamped my thumb and forefinger to pinch the nipple and pulled, not enough to hurt her, but enough to get her attention. The forceful act of clamping down on it while the other was being sucked hard by my ice cold lips made her gasp. She pushed harder toward the protrusion against her upper vagina and stroked herself up and down on it. I worried that, left to her own devices, she may try to mount it and take it into her cunt. "That wouldn't be good for the leather or her insides," I mused as I came up with a new plan.

I swung myself into the saddle behind her, rubbing my erection up and down the crack of her ass. She tensed initially, probably afraid I was going to go for her ass, but leaned forward to allow me access to her pussy. As she ceased swaying, I decided that she'd stopped to allow me to penetrate her and started to work my cock up and down her wet-again sex until I'd lubed the head enough to attempt an entry. With her clit trapped against the horn of my western saddle and me behind her, she bent forward to allow me to take her from behind again. This time it was a slow, leisurely pace that I set since I figured she might have been sore from the first fucking she'd received.

We rocked back and forth slowly, careful not to hurt her sensitive nub on the rough leather strips wrapped around the saddle horn. Luckily, the tree of the saddle was a large one that would nearly accommodate two riders with a high cantle that I could rest my ass on as I pushed gently in and out of her. When I'd bought it, I never expected that it would be used in this way. She had to stand to support her own weight as she straddled the stirrups and the rigging and I amused myself thinking about the flowered pattern of the fenders and the interesting marks that it would make on the insides of those long legs.

As she wrapped her hands around the gullet of the saddle, I worked to fondle her breasts, lower back, and her ass. I wanted to grab a handful of each cheek again and separate them so that I could watch our coupling, but being mindful of her admonition to stay away from her nether hole, I contented myself with mimicking the swaying gait of a walking horse while we fucked. Besides, there was no room between us to get a good hold on her butt. So I watched her rock back and forth as I slowly stroked in and out of her.

I must have been poking at her G-spot just right, because her breathing became ragged again and I knew we had begun the short uphill climb to her plunge over an orgasmic cliff. I gradually picked up the pace, watching and listening for the signs that she was getting closer or wanted more. Her head tilted back and she moaned aloud at the ceiling so I slid a hand around her middle to caress her stomach and help to hold us together. If she came unglued carelessly, one or both of us might get hurt. Her already sensitive clit was too close to the horn to allow any rough and repeated contact and I didn't want a concho up my ass if I got pushed backwards suddenly.

When the opportunity afforded itself, I slipped a hand in between her lower tummy and the horn so I could take the brunt of what was to come and protect her sensitive area. I picked up the tempo again, changing our speed to the rocking motion of a horse at a trot. The slapping sounds of my cock banging against her ass cheeks was nearly as loud as the music and the smell of her excitement mixed with the odors of old leather and horse sweat.

"I'm com-, I'm com-, I'm comingggggg," she seethed and she pushed back hard while bending forward more to try to take in more of me. "Ohhhhhh, there, right there, oh-my-God-that's-it-holy-shit-that's-it-don't-stop-don't-stop! Ahhhhhhh, unnnnnnhhhh," she trailed off. Her body tensed so hard that I could actually hear the popping in her back as her muscles and bones fought the exertion. She kept right on whispering a nonsensical stream of obscenities through her orgasm.




Working with the Girls Ch. 04



"Babble all you want to honey," I thought, "I don't plan on stopping anytime soon."

When she'd calmed down, I pulled out of her very slowly. A few drops of her girl-juice made dark raindrops on the rough leather of the seat. She dismounted and stood up straight for the first time in several minutes. I stood nearby with my wet and sticky cock still at attention and ready for further service. Realizing that I had not come yet, her eyes widened slightly and she said, "Really? You're ready for more?"

"I believe I'd like you to stay awhile longer if that's what you're asking," I answered.

"Good God, I don't know if I can take anymore. I'm beat. 'Hungry too. You got anything to eat around here?" she asked.

"Sure, I'll get us something to eat if you want to get straightened up. Give me ten minutes."

"'Mind if I take a shower?" she asked.

I pointed out where the towels were and promised to go get us something to replenish our energy. After putting on a t-shirt and shorts, I heard the shower start and I headed towards the kitchen. I didn't think we'd finished our night by a long shot. 



Working with the Girls Ch. 05



Standing in my kitchen trying to decide what to make for dinner, I could hear the shower run for a long time. I tried to think of what a woman from Germany might like after two vigorous fucks in less than an hour, and all I could come up with was canned German potato salad and grilled brats. "Too cliché," I decided, so I put a pot of water on the stove and started making spaghetti.

Since all I had on was a t-shirt and gym shorts, I went into the house's other bathroom to try to clean myself up some. I stripped down and stood in the tub, and starting with my face, scrubbed off everything that had ended up on my face, chest, hands, and crotch. The hot water felt good and I emerged from the quick shower ready to eat and get back to work making sure that Olga had just as hard a time walking tomorrow as her sister did today. I dropped the pasta into the water, added a little oil to keep the pot from boiling over, and went back to the bathroom sink where I put on some deodorant and brushed my teeth for good measure. Since it is my experience that ladies don't like stubble scraping their thighs, I shaved for the second time that day.

I remembered the scene in The Hustler where Newman and Gleason are having the marathon pool game that goes on all night. When both players appear exhausted, rumpled, and mentally drained by the all night game, Gleason goes and starts washing up and Newman smiles to himself thinking that he's worn Fats down. When he's freshly scrubbed, buttoned, and combed, Gleason steps out to get back to it, fresh and ready to go, which surprised the shit out of Fast Eddie.

Once I was freshly clean, I put on a nice pair of pants, a striped button down shirt, and dress shoes. "She won't know what hit her," I said to my reflection.

When I walked back into the room carrying the two plates of pasta, she was on my phone twirling the cord in her fingers like a sixteen year old talking to her first crush. I could only hear her side of it, but pretended to ignore her.

"Yeah, Hon. It was wonderful. I know...I know what you mean...Me too...But how are you feeling now?" Her eyes followed me as I walked in but she said nothing to me.

I set the plates down on a coffee table and headed back towards the kitchen to get the drinks. Before returning, I turned down the air conditioner in the house a couple more degrees. I carried the two tall glasses of ice water back through my house and re-entered the living room. I caught the tail end of the conversation.

"...don't have to work tomorrow." She glanced up at me, listened to the other party, and continued, "You and me both...No, I'm pretty sure I won't be able to do that...Ok, then...Bye."

"Water ok?" I asked her as she hung up.

"Sure, I'm thirsty as hell."

"I'm sure. Dig in," I replied as she padded across the room in her bare feet and wearing the yellow sundress that she'd had on when she arrived.

She was ravenous and devoured the plate quickly. Every once in a while, I could feel her sideways glance as she tried to figure out why I was dressed nicely. When she'd finished her plate, I offered her what was left of mine. She made this disappear quickly as well. I refilled her water glass twice during the meal which allowed me to walk out of the room a few more times. I spied the bathroom's towel rack and noticed that the green thong was missing. "Surely she didn't put it back on; it's gotta still be wet," I mused. 

Outside of the room, her purse was where she'd dropped it and since I was out of her sight, I checked it quickly. The drying thong was neatly folded inside. "Disobedient girl," I chided to myself. I took it out and carried it to the kitchen with me, smoothed it perfectly flat, sealed it in a big zip-loc bag, and put it in the freezer. "Won't look for it there," I laughed, "and sure as hell won't be wearing that home."

On my way back with a third glass of water, inspiration struck. I stopped at her purse again and quietly removed the Toyota key from her key ring. I didn't plan to hold her against her will, but she damned sure wasn't leaving anytime soon. I quickly wrote a note to her on a post-it and slipped it down into her purse near her wallet.

The smell of wet girl was still evident when I got back to the living room with her drink. When long haired girls wash their locks, it always seems to take longer for their hair to dry and that smell that they carry around with them for hours has always been a turn on for me. Olga's slick hair was combed back straight from her face and her pretty sundress hung from her shoulders as she sat with her bare feet propped on my coffee table. I made one more trip to the kitchen, carrying the two empty plates back to the sink. The vision of the freshly washed and beautiful girl was getting me started again and I knew that soon I would have to have her again.

When I re-entered the room, she had finished almost half of her third glass of water. She sat up straight with her legs crossed watching me as I walked towards her. "Going somewhere?" she asked.

"No, why?" I feigned confusion.

"Well, you cleaned yourself up and got dressed up. Where are you going?"

"Down on you," I laughingly said.

Her surprised look told me that she really had believed that we were done. "Again? What are you, a machine?"

I knelt in front of her and caressed her calves. My hand worked down to her soft feet and back up to her knees. I insistently prodded them apart while never stopping the light massage that I gave those smooth gams. "Nope, not a machine, just a horny guy with a pretty girl...who could blame me?"

"I don't know Dave; I'm used up. Any more of that and I won't be able to walk for days."

"Like your sister?" A hand on the inside of each knee gently pried them apart. She reluctantly allowed me to do it, but I could still feel her resistance. I slid a hand along her thighs back to her ass and slid her forward to the edge, an action that caused her hem to ride up almost to her bare pussy. The pink lips were inflamed and swollen. I ducked my head beneath the skirt bottom and nuzzled at her sex with my nose. Kneeling between the coffee table and the edge of the big couch allowed her to relax with her feet on the table, knees bent on either side of my head, and lean back against the overstuffed pillows as I prodded her with my tongue. She immediately started squirming.

"I don't know if I can...take...any...more..." she began. The stammered protest spurred me on. I reached over each thigh and pulled her upper legs further apart as I began to lick gently at her overused box. The tuft of blond hair above her tasty slit was sparse, wispy, and clean smelling from the recent shower. "Really, I don't know." Every time she started to protest, I lapped at her clit more insistently (while still being gentle) and teased the little hole below. When she realized that I was not going to treat her roughly, she relaxed and allowed me my fun. I could tell that she was starting to enjoy it too as her flow of lubrication started for me to catch on my tongue. Delicious.

I had no intention of causing her pain but I also had no intention of letting her leave. I held her legs tightly and ever so gently teased the pearl of her sex. I would start at her sweet, sensitive hole and lightly lick up and eventually over, her clit. Each stroke across the nub caused a small shudder. She was building up again and the knowledge that I could do this to her was a powerful thought in my mind. As she began to squirm and clamp down on my head with her thighs, I slowed my gentle ministrations. Pushing her up to the plateau but not allowing her to reach it suited my needs and I contented myself with simply enjoying my time between her thighs. My flattened tongue would press at her pussy hole then slide up, separating the lips as I went, and when I reached her clit, I would point my tongue and barely touch the little nub.

She humped herself against my mouth and chin, trying to keep me on the path to her buildup. I used some restraint, and only allowed my lips to touch hers gently with no vigorous motions against her sensitive parts. I could sense her frustration and pushed her thighs back apart, meeting resistance and hearing her soft, surprised protest. I further startled her by lightly rubbing the insides of her thighs with my hands and lightly stroking the small patch of hair above her sex.

As she started to really work up to going over the edge again, I slowed down, clearly frustrating her. I held my tongue tip against her clit and slowly worked it in a circle around the tip and she moaned softly.

"Olga," I asked, "does that feel good?"

"Ummm, yeah. But please don't stop."

"Wait, I thought you didn't want me to do this..."

"Oh quit screwing around and let me come. Why are you doing this?"

In response, I tapped her clit a few more times with my tongue. I moved down and lightly lapped at her flowing hole. She slid further down towards the edge of the couch, allowing me better access and I slid my tongue up into her as far as I could reach. I flicked my tongue back and forth inside her a few times, pulled it out, and swallowed what I had gathered. I licked up her slit again, this time insistently pushing at her lips as if they would open further of their own accord. Her low moaning started again so I worked at her box for another ten seconds and stopped abruptly.

"Why do you like watching me with your sister?" I asked.

"Oh come on, don't stop, why are you torturing me?" she lamented.

"We've got all day, Hon," I responded. I acted as if I could make a career out of eating that pussy, which come to think of it, wasn't that far from the truth.

I took another long, slow stroke up her slit and back down for good measure and asked, "What does it do for you? Really?"

I pushed the hem of the dress back enough that I could see up along her body to where her bedroom eyes were nearly shut and saw the frustrated look there. Without breaking the eye contact, I leaned down again and poked at her clit with my tongue. Wiggling the tip back and forth across the tip, I arched my eyebrows as if to say, "Keep talking lady, I want to hear it."

She opened her mouth as if to speak and her breath caught in her throat. Without pulling away from her cunt, I said, "Come on Olga', you watched me railing your sister's ass and seemed to be into it. Come to think of it, you don't seem to want me to touch you back there. What gives?" As encouragement, I slipped a finger into her and gently rimmed her pussy hole.

Between gasping breaths as I never stopped working her gently clutching quim, she related a story about how when she and Angela were younger and still living in Germany, she used to play with herself beneath the covers while lying in bed at night. It was during one of these sessions that she heard a noise and listened closely only to realize that her sister in the next bed was stroking herself as well. Angela openly admitted to doing it when Olga asked her about it since she'd known for several months what her older sister was doing under the sheets. Their simultaneous masturbation sessions eventually led to openly talking about it, increased in occurrence until it happened nearly every night, and progressed to both of them doing it with the covers thrown back while the sisters watched each other.

Olga noticed that Angie became rougher and rougher with her own masturbation and couldn't tell if it was because she was getting so used to the feel of her own fingers that increased stimulation was necessary for her to get off or if she was competing with her older sister to see who would go the furthest. In any case, Olga came to be fascinated with her beautiful younger sibling as she reclined in the bed and worked her snatch with both hands. Angie's long, straight blond hair would flare out from her head like a huge golden halo across the pillows and her slender fingers would pinch and pull at her own nipples, elongating them into nearly inch-long points. When Angie would grab and pull at her pussy lips, Olga would stare, fascinated at how far her sister could open herself. The inner parts of Angie's pussy would be glistening with their own lube and then Angie would stab one, then two fingers into her hole while working up to furiously rubbing her clit. For her part, Olga would lie on her side, gently stroking at her own organ and watch Angie's show.

When Angela's orgasm would come, her violent convulsions never failed to set off her sister's own quieter climax. She came to realize that she was turning into a voyeuse and loved to watch her sister set herself off. She came to look forward to it and thought about it nearly all day. On a whim, Olga ducked into a sex shop one day on her way home from work and purchased a small pink vibrator. That night, while watching Angie building to a third orgasm, she turned it on and began to rub it on her own clit. It set off a series of rolling thunderclaps inside her body and she twitched and jerked for what seemed like an hour. When she opened her eyes, Angie was kneeling by her bedside looking at the tool where it lay between her sister's soaked lips.

Angie was only nineteen, but she knew what the instrument was and asked if she could use it. Surprised and slightly embarrassed, Olga offered the sticky shaft to her, thinking she would clean it in the bathroom that opened off of their shared bedroom. As Angela stood to walk the short distance back to her bed, Olga noticed that Angie's inner thighs were shiny and wet with her juices. Before she'd taken two steps, Angie had turned on the vibrator and applied it to her own clit. Olga saw Angie's knees bend a little but she caught herself and continued the short trek to her bed. She dropped onto her back, never taking the vibe from her clit and spread her legs. Within minutes she was humming along, being carried away by one orgasm after another. Olga wondered how long her sister could go on like that before she became exhausted and fell asleep.

After a week of Angela using her sister's vibrator nearly every night, Olga began to wonder if she was going to need to buy another one for herself since Angie showed no sign of returning the one she'd "borrowed". She still watched her sister with the lights on low and every once in a while, Angie would turn to her in her haze and smile weakly at Olga. 

She'd start at her clit and set herself off once or twice but then would move it down and force it into herself, stroking it in and out repeatedly. It got so intense one night, that Angela rolled over and while reaching beneath herself, humped her pussy against the pink tool until she'd come several more times. Olga quietly encouraged her and Angela turned her head so she could watch her masturbating sister whispering at her. When she was sure that she had Olga's attention (as if it was possible for Olga to look away), she slid "pinkie" out of her dripping hole and started to press it against her anus. Olga's eyes widened. Angie spread her legs a little wider and stretched one cheek apart with her free hand. Tilting her hips up for a better angle, she twisted and pushed slowly. The angry buzzing was muffled by Angie's tightly clenching ass as the vibrator nearly disappeared up her virgin hole.

Olga was struck with horror, but then realized that Angie was enjoying it. 

Her moaning grew louder as she pushed back against the small object in her bottom. Olga became afraid that their parents would hear Angie's noise and shushed her sister. Angie's hand held it there and she became slightly louder. Olga was off the bed and kneeling by her sister's within a second. "Be quiet, sis," she chided. In response, Angie moaned low and long. Olga clapped a hand across her sister's mouth to try to quiet her and grabbed the wrist of the hand that was holding the vibrator in her butt to try to stop the pleasure welling inside her. Angie must have thought that Olga was trying to help and pushed back harder. She grunted behind Olga's palm. Olga realized that Angie was not going to stop until she came from the stimulation of her anus and clamped down harder on her sister's mouth. She decided that she may as well get it over with and let go of Angie's wrist. Angie reacted by twisting and working the vibe harder in her butt as she got up onto her knees to better reach the tool.

Olga had never touched her sister in any sexual way before, hadn't thought about it, but now all bets were off. They'd come this far and she wanted the noises to stop before they got in trouble. Before she had time to talk herself out of it, she reached between Angie's legs and found the soaked lips of her pussy and began to stroke them back and forth quickly. Small droplets of liquid were flipped onto the sheets and when she touched her sister's clit, Angie's orgasm crashed upon her so hard that she collapsed flat on the bed. This trapped Olga's hand beneath Angie and Angie's clutching asshole clamped down hard on the vibrator lodged in it. Angie bit the pillow to keep from making too much noise as she came over and over.

While Olga told this story, I had to restrain myself. The urge to lick her to orgasm was strong, almost as strong as the urge to stand up and stroke myself off to my own orgasm and ruin her pretty sundress by shooting all over her. But while she talked, I worked slowly, quietly, and patiently. I learned just how much she could take before losing her train of thought and ruining the story and when this happened, I simply slowed down or stopped until she regained it.

But soon after the part about her helping her sister get off with her hand in her pussy and the new vibrator in her ass, I decided it was time. She'd earned it. I built up the pressure on her clit while also gently working my finger across her G-spot. The story after that became garbled and unintelligible as her words degenerated into moans and then gasps and then howls. She actually started to wail like someone in pain and I increased the pressure inside her pussy with my index finger. The thighs on either side of my head closed, clamping down on my ears. "Well, I can't hear that screaming anymore," I thought. Trapped between her legs, I could not move my hand properly to keep the buildup going so I slapped my tongue back and forth across her clit like a boxer working a speed bag. The effect was instant. She gushed into my mouth while nearly tearing my head off of my shoulders with her legs. If it wasn't for my fingers up inside her, I don't think I'd have been able to keep her on the couch!

Luckily, neighbors weren't close enough to hear her convulsive screaming. If they had been, I'm sure that the police would have been called and I'd still be explaining to them what had happened. After several seconds of her pounding orgasm, she quieted and pushed me out from between her legs. She pulled her legs up and flopped over on the couch, trying to relax and calm down after the intensity of the sensation. So tired was she after this exertion that she rolled over and faced the back of the couch. Her legs were drawn up in a near fetal position as she lay on her side and her breathing slowed after several minutes. Soft whimpering sounds gave way to quiet breathing which eventually slowed so much that I thought she'd fallen asleep.

I was still kneeling where I'd been during the story and this put me at eye level with her bottom. The dress barely covered her inflamed pussy so I reached up to it and gave it a soft stroke. She protested loudly, "That's enough! I can't take anymore!" 

"'Just kidding," I said. I stood and stretched my legs. I went back out to the kitchen and poured her another glass of ice water. After washing my face in the sink, I returned with the water for her. She appeared to be sleeping, or at least resting quietly, so I left her alone, setting the glass down quietly. I gently lifter her head, sat down on the couch, and placed her drowsy head in my lap. For a few hours, I watched TV with the volume on low. Her hips made a nice resting place for my hand which held the remote and after a while, when she appeared cold, I slid a small throw blanket over her bare legs and nearly exposed ass.




Working with the Girls Ch. 05



SportsCenter, a few comedies, and a Clint Eastwood movie later, she stirred. "What time is it?" she asked. 

"It's about nine thirty," I answered while stroking her now dry and straight hair.

"Shit! I've got to make a call. Do you mind?"

"Be my guest," I said. "I'll get us a snack."

I left the room to the sound of the touch tone phone's chirps while she dialed. As I returned with two bowls of ice cream, she was again having a cryptic conversation. Cryptic in that I could not hear all of it, let alone hear what the other party was saying.

"...are you kidding? No way...well then, maybe...Really? Still?"

I went upstairs and put on an old CD of Vivaldi or Holst or some symphonic stuff like that. As I worked the stereo, I could still hear her whispering, clearly trying to keep her end of the conversation private.

"...too big or maybe it's just me." I perked up; maybe she was talking about me. Haha. "Sweetie, I can't right now...you'll have to do without..." 

"What the hell?" I thought.

She continued, "Maybe...I said 'maybe'...come on, you know I want to..." I looked downstairs to where her lithe form was pacing back and forth slowly, cupping her hand over the mouthpiece. She was lovely to watch, moving gracefully and tossing her long hair over her shoulder. "Angie, I just can't..." Well, now I knew who she was talking to. "I'd like to...really?" She started laughing quietly, "Well maybe...we'll see...just not tonight, ok?"

With a quick glance at me as I walked down the stairs, she said her goodbye and hung up. She appeared upset and said, "I've been here so long. I really gotta go."

"But I'd like you to stay." I knew that she was worn out, sore, needed at home, and probably not ready to go another round, but I had to make the effort. I held her shoulders and kissed her right on the lips. "I sure do wish you'd stay. I'd love to watch you have about seven or eight...hundred more orgasms," I joked.

"You must be crazy. Angie needs me to help her with the kids. I may not walk for days, no thanks to you." Her mocking chastising of me softened the angular features of her face and she smiled like the happy person I hoped she was under her usually gruff exterior. "It's been...lovely," she said after searching for a descriptor, "but I really should go.

She sat back down and belted the straps of her heeled sandals to her feet, stood--taller now--and went to use the bathroom one last time. She picked up her purse and went inside and closed the door. I stood while the notes of Mars, the Winged Messenger wafted around me. I found that I was tired, too, but given the chance, I would still be at it. With her, or her sister, I couldn't get enough. I heard the toilet flush and then the water in the sink. "Hey!" I heard her exclaim. She came out of the bathroom surprised, slightly angry, and confused. "Meine unterwasche...my underwear, where is it?" She looked around one last time and continued her slightly angry inquisition, "Come on, what'd you do with them? They were in my purse and now they're gone."

"I stole them." I looked her straight in the eye and said as seriously as I could, "I planned on keeping you here as long as I could. But you have to go. So I figure I'll just keep them if you don't mind."

She appeared confused, "But why? Where are they?"

"Don't worry; you can have them back when you come over next time." Since she still seemed confused, I continued, "Let's call them...a souvenir." Before she could protest again, I said, "Look if you really want them, they're in the freezer." Anytime I have ever "borrowed" a girl's underwear after the act and they inquire as to their location, I always eventually tell them where they are. They never believe me. I guess it helps if you put them in implausible locations...

She shook her head but began the process of leaving. She slung her purse on her shoulder and headed towards the garage. I kissed her one last time and thanked her "for a lovely afternoon." She still appeared confused about the missing panties but apparently decided to drive home with the breeze blowing on her bare privates. I pushed the button for the garage door opener and watched that wonderful backside swing away from me in that dress, long legs working in her heels. Did I detect a slight bow-leggedness? Smiling to myself, I stopped the garage door before it could go all the way back down. It stuck at halfway and I could see her pause next to the dark green Toyota. I envisioned her searching for her keys, but could only imagine it since I could not see her from the waist up because of the door.

She must have found my note, because I could see her feet and lower legs in the light of my outdoor security light. They turned quickly and marched back towards the garage door and barely stopped as she ducked beneath the partially open door. I was sitting on the washer smiling at her as she worked up enough anger to pretend to be outraged. "What now? Really?" she said while brandishing the note that I'd placed in her purse all those hours ago.

I just laughed and said, "Hon, it's a joke. Here." I held out her car key to her and she laughed and grabbed it before I could change my mind. 

"You crossed something out David; what was it?" She held the note up to the light and tried to decipher what I'd scribbled over. All she could read though was what I'd left legible. It was the old advertising maxim, "If you didn't like the service, tell us; if you did like the service, tell your friends."

"What does it mean?" she queried.

"I thought it was appropriate since I was with Angie before you, but you were present both times. She told me that you and I should spend some time together and I hoped that if you enjoyed yourself enough too, that you would tell some of your other female friends. Word of mouth advertising is the best after all."

"Yes, but what did you cross out?"

"It used to say 'for one free Toyota key, come back in the house and stay a little longer'. But knowing how sore you were at the time, I changed it. It didn't sound like you'd be able to go another round or two, even though I was hoping you'd be game. I changed it so that you could go if you wanted to."

"You've just about split me in two with that thing. I really have enjoyed the 'service', but I've got to go. Angie won't be the only one lying in bed all day unable to move around tomorrow. I will come back, you've no worries there. See ya." She turned away and left again, for the final time that evening.



Working with the Girls Ch. 06



The next day, after my whole day pleasuring Olga, Angie called me. "You know, I still can't walk. What do you think about that?"

I answered, "Well, it sounds like you're trying to stroke my ego."

"Yeah, I know you, you pervert," she continued, "that's not all you'd like me to stroke."

I laughed and figured it was time to line up my next encounter with one of the sisters. "When are you coming over?" I figured that asking directly at this point was best; why hide it? I wanted to fuck her and I intended to have her again. 

She disappointed me when she said, "Did you forget? I'm working today."

"I'll just have to fuck your sister then," I joked...half hoping that I could. 

Angie laughed, mockingly, and said, "Well, then, maybe you should call her. You know the number." At that, she hung up on me. 

"Hmmm," I thought, "that one is going to need to be corrected." I certainly didn't like being hung up on, even if it was a joke. The sisters didn't seem to mind that I had a relationship with each of them. I liked them; I think they liked me. But there was nothing more to it. None of the three of us were looking for love. It was simply sex between friends and if jealousy was creeping in, I figured I had better watch for it to keep it from becoming a problem.

All the same, I dialed Olga's number. Her heavy accent answered and when she discovered it was me, the tone changed to one of wary happiness. I figured I had a sure thing for a visit today. "Come back to my house, please. You left something here and I want to make sure you don't go without."

Cryptic, yes. Purposely misdirected? Yeah, absolutely. I wanted her to think she was coming back for the undergarment that I'd kept yesterday, but I definitely had other plans.

"I'll stop by before noon. But no more of what I had yesterday, ok? My poor pussy is sore, Hon."

I laughed at the remark and she continued, "I'm serious...I really enjoyed that, but it's just too much. You need to learn some moderation."

After finishing the arrangements for when she'd come by, I thought about the conversation. "So, her sister and her both are now telling me how it's going to be? Putting me in my place? Yeah...not going to happen. It's time to show them who they're dealing with."

When Olga showed up, it was clear that she'd made a plan. She figured that sex again was out since she'd made it clear to me how sore her pussy was. AND further, she'd decided to show me what I was going to be missing. She wore a tight tank top that barely contained her breasts. And the miniskirt...oh, the miniskirt...it was the stuff that dreams are made of for the twenty something I was back then. Those long tan legs were visible up to her thighs. Cute wedge heels showed off her pedicure. "This one knows my weaknesses just like her sister and is thinking that she is going to get me good and frustrated," I thought to myself. "Keep it up," I said in my head.

When I opened the door to my house she walked in as if she knew how desirable she was to me and planned to use it to her advantage. "So, where's my stuff?"

Without a word, I moved to her and reached behind her head slowly while never letting her look away from my eyes. She thought I was moving in for a nice kiss and allowed it to happen. When my fist curled in her hair, her eyes registered shock, surprise, and a little of something else. I pulled her to me and crushed her lips with mine. I kissed her like I owned her. She fought to regain her breath when I stopped, but I never let go of the control I had of her pretty blond head. She seemed to be melting with this sudden show of my other side.

"You want what you left here without, do you?" I said. "Came back to get it, hmmmm?"

Her tone was a little less demanding when she spoke again, "Yes please. Uhh, I thought I'd just stop to get them."

"'Please.' I like that. That's good. I was just thinking that you need to learn some respect. And so does your sister." She looked fearfully up at me as if she couldn't believe this was happening. I was feeling suddenly changed and enjoying the feeling. I was definitely planning on acting on it, but I didn't know how yet.

I pulled her to me again and kissed her in a way that left no doubt that I was in control of the situation. She responded in such a way that I realized that my new manner was working for her. She sagged against me a little and allowed it.

Breaking the kiss and turning her around, I held her there as I nibbled at her neck, the hand in her hair pushing her head down into the submissive pose that I expected she would be learning soon. My free hand reached around her and roughly fondled her breasts. Her breath came in ragged gasps as she realized that her plan of simply stopping by to tease me a little and get her underwear back was about to go out the window. And yet, she made no attempt to stop me. The tank top was unceremoniously pulled up and over her head. She obliged me by keeping her arms straight up after I lifted them up to where I wanted them. Her full tits popped free; she wore no bra. 

"Such a slut," I seethed through my teeth into her ear. "No bra? What did you expect would happen to you coming here like that?"

She didn't answer, but simply moaned as I pinched and twisted her nipples. Pulling at the left nipple, I held it as far from her body as I could without pulling her off balance. The heavy meat of her breast dragged at the nipple and I increased the pressure, even shaking it a little to make her tit pull even harder. "Like that, Olga?"

She only moaned so I asked more insistently: "I said, 'Do you like that, Slut?'"

I knew that she was surprised by this from me but her actions and reactions were giving her away. Her body and her mind wanted this rough treatment. 

"I do," she answered feebly. So softly in fact that I could barely hear it, but it was good enough for me. I fully intended to give her what she didn't get yesterday, but it wasn't those damned panties. Not yet. Besides, they were frozen solid inside a Zip-Loc bag in my freezer.

"And do you know why you like it?" I asked in a tone that I couldn't believe was coming from my mouth. My mother would certainly never want to hear me talking to a lady like this...but good thing, she wasn't there.

I knew she was thinking. Trying to conjure the answer that wasn't going to get her into more trouble. Searching for what she thought I wanted to hear. In the end, she went with the cop-out. She decided to just answer, "No...?" in a tone that said, "Clearly you do; tell me please?"

"Because you're a slut. Sluts like being treated this way, don't they?" (Did I really just say that to her?)

She was almost in tears at the accusation. Perhaps I was hitting too close to home. Maybe not the real "home" but something she wanted in her mind but had been afraid to ever ask for. Her admission was a halting, "Yes..." Her voice trailed off as she dragged out the "s" at the end.

In response, I lifted the back of the miniskirt. To my delight, her bare ass was exposed. She hadn't worn panties at all. Did she come here like this because she "knew" she was getting back the ones I'd kept yesterday? Did she go without because my incessant licking of her pussy yesterday made her too sore to wear them? Or was she figuring on teasing me even more with her panty-less ass since she was sure that my assurance of not touching her pussy had been sincere?

"See that? Sluts go without panties." I smacked her right ass cheek for emphasis and she jumped. "Sluts know that they need it. Need to get fucked. Need to be used. Need to have someone take them...take what they want. Don't they?" I really hadn't expected to let her see this side of me so soon, but she was playing right into it and it seemed to be on a course that was going to play itself out despite my earlier hesitation.

Again, her answer came from a far away place inside her, but this time, instead of the tiny bit of fear I'd heard before, I heard excitement. "Yes," she answered without hesitation.

And that is how I came to have Olga bent over my kitchen table, skirt flipped up and lying on her lower back, bare ass exposed not two feet from where I ate my dinner, and realizing that her relationship was changing in a way she had not expected. 

I spanked her ass--both sides of it--with my bare hand for twenty minutes. It turned a lovely shade of beet red and eventually my individual hand prints merged and formed one large crimson stain on her beautiful ass. She jumped with every smack at first. Then she whimpered. Her whimpers turned to little cries. Then, she began sobbing. I checked several times to see her face, to see if I really was damaging her or if she was enjoying it. It was not so easy to tell, but I knew one of us was having a good time. And when I reached between her legs to gently cup her pussy and gauge her reaction, I was rewarded with a completely soaked hand. I believed that she was very into it if her pussy was any indication.

Her knees started to bend and I wasn't sure if she was trying to get away from the punishment or if her legs were getting weak. "Stand straight, Slut," I commanded and she immediately straightened for me. I stood back to admire my handiwork. I was quite pleased, Olga was going to have a hard time sitting for a while. Her sister, Angie, was still unable to walk without soreness, but for a completely different reason. In any case, these two were going to have to come to terms with a reality that included me enjoying them in ways that they weren't used to yet.

Olga still stood, hands pressed against my dining room table, breasts hanging in front of her, ass jutted backwards at me, legs straight, and an ass that was as fiery red as one could imagine. I pressed myself against her back and held her tightly, "OK, Slut?" I asked. Her answer was an almost imperceptible nod. "Good sluts get rewarded, you know?"

She didn't know how to answer. After all, the "reward" might be something else just as cruel...or worse.

I reached between her legs and found her pussy again. She was wetter than when I'd been eating her yesterday. I knew it wouldn't take long to grant her a release. I frigged her clit and stroked my fingers in and out of her sopping pussy and within a minute she collapsed backwards against me as she came. "Good Slut," I intoned behind her.

"Now before you go, I have something for you; something that you came here for. And since I'm done with you for today, I'm going to let you have it. Stay right where you are."

I watched her carefully as she held her position. I didn't want my surprise spoiled by her seeing what I was doing. I moved to the freezer and pulled out a bag that contained her now frozen almost solid panties. I knew that with as hot as her butt cheeks were, the cold material was going to be a shock. But she wasn't going home empty handed and technically, she WAS getting what she'd come for. And good girls always get rewarded.

"You can put on your top," I directed as I moved behind her again. She obediently picked it up from the kitchen table and slid it down over her toned body. "Still want your panties?" I asked.

"Yes, please," she answered.

"Lift your leg; I'll help you put them on."

She lifted her left foot first and the material bent with a little resistance as I forced the leg hole into a loop that could be slid over her foot. "And now the other," I said and she lifted it enough for me to slip the other leg hole over that foot. I had been careful not to allow the cold fabric touch her skin because I wanted this to be a surprise. And then, without hesitation, I pulled the freezing cold material up her legs and snugged the garment into the crack of her ass and across her burning ass cheeks. She yelped satisfyingly when she realized that not only was I not kidding about keeping the borrowed panties in the freezer, but that against her just-spanked butt, they were COLD!

"Comfy?" I asked and she squirmed from the sensation.

I flipped the material of the skirt back down to cover her ass and crotch and mockingly slapped her ass again, "Off you go."

She looked at me in disbelief. Was I really going to send her away in this condition? With a well spanked ass, an orgasm fresh on her dewy lips, and a nearly frozen pair of panties impeding her movements, she was expected to walk out my door to her car and sit down? And drive home? Her lips opened as if to say something, but I cut her off.

"You heard me, Slut. You're free to go. I'll see you soon," I threatened.