0 comments/ 243502 views/ 6 favorites Teaching Amy By: jacksgirl It was a Friday afternoon and even though it's the day you'd like to leave work early, it never seemed to happen for me. On Fridays I like to make sure everything's done for the week. Plus set up for Monday, so I can walk in and be ready to go. Finally, I was able to leave and it sure was good to walk through my front door. But something seemed not quite right; for one thing it was way too quiet. My husband Jack was usually so lovingly overjoyed to see me. Even he seemed too quiet as I kissed him and asked how his day was. "It was pretty smooth, Karen. I even got to leave early." "Well, I was hoping to do that, too, but it couldn't happen where I was." "Amy got home early as well. In fact she was already home when I got here." "Where is she? I thought it seemed too quiet." "In her room. Just go change and get comfortable because we need to have a little talk after supper. " It was then I noticed jack had already made spaghetti and a salad, so I went upstairs. At Amy's door, I knocked lightly and said, "you all right?" "Yeah, I'm fine." "Anything I should know about?" "I'm sure Dad will tell you." Well, Jack wasn't talking and Amy wasn't talking. Now I'm really curious. Took a quick shower and just slipped on my short robe, tying the belt in front in a knot. Supper was very good. I mean, the food was very good. The conversation was nil, and the atmosphere was practically electric. After we eat, everyone chips in to load the dishwasher and clean up the kitchen. Then Jack quietly said, "You two meet me in the family room." Amy went to the bathroom; I finished wiping off the counter. When I walked into the family room, Jack was sitting on the couch, Amy on the chair, so I sat on the love seat. Jack quietly said, "I came home from work early and Amy was already here. Amy, you tell Mom your part of the story." Amy looked like she'd rather crawl into a cave and hide but she just quietly said, "I had final exams all morning, but didn't have any in the afternoon. Well, Jimmy didn't have any in the afternoon either, so he said he'd drive me home." She paused but Jack and I just waited for her to restart. "Once we got here, I asked Jimmy if he wanted to come in. Well, no one else was home and we were in the kitchen. Jimmy started kissing me and playing with my privates, you know, up under my skirt. I told him to stop cos I wasn't supposed to do anything like that. That's the way you get in trouble and get pregnant. Then he said but now he had a raging hard on and it's all my fault. So I gotta do something about it. "Well, I didn't know what he meant at first, but then I remembered what Mom told me. I could take him into my mouth and that way I wouldn't have to worry about getting pregnant." At that moment, Jack looked at me and I wished I could crawl into a cave and hide. But, Amy continued, "I sat on a kitchen chair and he stood in front of me, unzipped his jeans, and pulled his thing out. I stroked it for just a little while, and then pulled it into my mouth, it wasn't very long before he started squirting this juice stuff into me, so I pulled back, and that's when Dad walked into the kitchen." During this last part she was talking so softly, I had to really strain to hear her, but Jack looked like he was hearing her just fine. He turned to look at me; Amy had silent tears forming in her eyes like she was really scared now. But I know for a fact, neither Jack or I would be abusive or mean to her, no matter what kind of trouble she was in. We always told her she could come to us. Now, the scared I was feeling at the moment was a different story (at least to me). I'd always told Jack the truth, told him everything that went on in my life, in our house; but for some reason, I never did tell him about this conversation Amy and I had had a few months before. He was just looking at me, expecting me to clarify this. "Is this true? Did you tell her this?" "Yes, she was asking about sex and boys and although she knew some of it, and seemed to have a healthy curiosity, we got around to the subject of pregnancy, and how a girl has to really be careful. Boys can be sexually active with little or no repercussions, but girls are the ones who will get into trouble if they aren't careful. She said some of the girls at school talk about giving blow jobs to boys and some girls like it better, because that way you don't have to worry about getting pregnant. And of course, the boys like it a lot." Jack said, "I'll bet they do." He looked from me to her. She still hadn't really cried although she had tears welling up in her eyes, and looked miserable. Jack said, "I'm going to have to punish you, Amy. You shouldn't be doing that with boys in the first place. You can imagine my shock and dismay at walking in on you like that. Giving some boy a blowjob is nothing to be taken lightly, and in the second place, you should have more regard for yourself. These boys don't love you or care about you other than the fact that you make them feel good." By now, Amy is looking so pitiful, I want to do something to help her distress, but I know better than to interrupt him, so I sit there saying nothing, and thinking, I'll bet he's going to punish me after he's through with her. Now, I'm starting to feel pretty distressed myself. Only I know that he isn't really mean or abusive, and when he does punish us, it's out of his love. "Come here, Amy." She walks over and stands in front of him. It was then I noticed the paddle on Jack's lap. He didn't sound angry or mean, he just picked it up in his right hand and said, "You know why you're being punished, Amy. Don't you?" She was starting to sob quietly but said, "Yes, sir." "Do you think you deserve to be punished?" "Yes, sir." "Come here and get on your knees next to me." She knelt on the couch on his right and he guided her across his lap. He lifted her skirt and lowered her white panties to her knees. This is not the first time Amy's been paddled, so she knows what to expect. So do I, but somehow that first smack always seems to be loud and unexpected. He slowly and methodically sets up a rhythm, whereby the spanks are in a measured cadence. I don't know if he was counting. I was too absorbed in watching to count. Plus I knew with a certainty that I will be next. And I have a funny feeling she will stay and watch, just as I am watching here. Finally he stops and she is weeping, but gets up and he says, "Come over here and sit down on the other side of me." She does so, on his left on the couch. It's probably a good thing she has a cushion to sit on. Now Jack turns to me. "Alright, darling. Do you understand why you are being punished?" "Yes, I shouldn't have told her it was OK to give boys blowjobs." He said, "Absolutely, and especially without telling me. We should always be openly honest about anything that goes on here." "I agree, and I'm sorry, Jack." "Well, I'm glad you agree, but come over here and lie across my lap. You deserve a spanking more than Amy." I lay across his lap, positioned my ass right under his face, my face is in Amy's lap. She puts her hand gently on the side of my face while Jack lifts my short robe. Once again even though I know it's coming, that first smack always seems loud and so unexpected, it makes me jump. He slowly and methodically sets up a rhythm, swatting my poor bottom, harder than he did Amy's. She is clasping my hand in hers to make sure they stay out of the way and he is lecturing me as he spanks me repeatedly. "I thought you were going to be honest with me, Karen. I thought we were jointly going to make the decisions about Amy's upbringing." I was sobbing openly and with it would just stop but he was giving me a much worse spanking. I know it's mainly for my deceitfulness in addition to the bad advice I gave her. I was crying loudly and kicking my legs. This really hurt! Finally at what seemed like the longest spanking in history, it stopped. Yet I still lay there while he said, "I hope this is a lesson for the both of you. We decide things together as a family." He let me get up and go pull myself together. I returned to them still sniffling a little bit and he spread his legs apart. Motioning for me to get down between them. I wanted to protest because Amy was there, but after the spanking I just had, there was no way I was going to say anything. I always enjoy giving him a blowjob, but Amy was still sitting to his left. He was telling her that this should be an act of love, not just a cheap, easy way for a boy to use her. She was nodding and looking at me. He let me unfasten his belt and unzip his pants. I pulled out his large cock, which showed that the spanking did indeed arouse him. I slowly began running my fingertips around and up and down his shaft. He was telling her that this is a beautiful way for a woman to please men, but it should be down slowly and lovingly. He also told her I had always taken great pleasure as well, in pleasing him this way. I encircled the bottom of his shaft with my left hand, holding his cock firmly, while the finders of my right hand encircled it as well, about halfway down. With my mouth, I was kissing and licking his head, running my tongue around just under the ridge, my fingertips stroking the opposite side of his cock while I ran my tongue up and down. "See, Amy, this is not something to be done in a hurry, and it should be with someone you love, who also loves you. It should be a beautiful thing for both people." I glanced up and she was watching me avidly and nodding. My right hand joined with the other in encircling the base as I began pulling him into my mouth more and more. I opened my throat so I could accommodate his length, sucking him in deeper and deeper. I could hear his voice explaining this to Amy but I always kind of lose myself in this. Then he was saying, "Karen," and pulling himself out of my mouth. I looked at him puzzlingly, "Don't you want me to finish?" "Well, I'm close to coming but I want Amy to experience this so she doesn't have to wait too long for her reward." I got up and at on his right on the couch. My bottom was still throbbing and quite sore, but my attention was on Amy kneeling where Id been and taking him into her hands, stroking and kissing him. "That's it, Amy, this shouldn't be done hurriedly but slowly and lovingly. That's it, Baby, it needs to be wet from the moisture in your mouth. Plus you're getting my pre-cum now." Amy was totally absorbed in this task; though she did seem to want to take it slowly at first, gradually she was taking him in deeper and pulling herself back more and more quickly. "That's the girl, now you're going to get your reward." His white cum was coming out of the corners of her mouth and dripping down her breasts. "Oh, yes, good girl, that's just right, honey." She looked up at him, swallowed some of her reward and then without being told, began licking his cock, to get every bit of cum she could. He touched the side of my face with his right hand and I kissed his fingers and his hand many times. He toughed the side of Amy's face lovingly. "Ok, Sweetheart, now go take a bath and start getting ready for bed." She said, "Ok, Daddy, and thank you." She kissed his lips with the remains of his cum still on her mouth. Teaching an old Daddy New Tricks I walked in the door and tossed my backpack on the floor, looking over at my dad sitting in the recliner. "Hi Dad, I'm home from school," I point out the obvious. I'm a senior in High school, and just turned eighteen last month. Dad had forgotten; I still hadn't told him he missed it. I stared at him, and he stared into his computer screen. "Dad?" I try again, frowning slightly. It hurt to be ignored by him so easily. "Lauren, I'm busy right now, go clean your room or something," He said, swatting his hand at me. Tears welled up in my eyes, and I muttered, "Why can't you just love me?" and ran up the stairs to my bedroom. I had wanted to tell him my boyfriend had just broken up with me, and that I needed someone to console me. He was too busy, though. With what, I had no idea. Depressed and neglected, I turned on my laptop. My browser popped open, featuring my profile page. I looked at my display picture: my long tan legs draped over 'his', big brown eyes staring up at him with love. I can't believe he cheated on me. I sighed, then stood up. No use sitting around, sulking. Going to my closet, I picked out a tight white button down shirt and a pair of lace trimmed shorts. Pulling off my school uniform, I put on my top, tying it right under my bust. My push up bra made my tits nearly spill out of the shirt, and I loved it. Sliding on the tight little shorts over my long legs and firm ass, I left them unbuttoned, so the lace of my thong was visible. My brown and blonde hair was curled today, in big bouncy waves. Going back to my laptop, I turned on the webcam and posed. One hand partially in my shorts, the other wrapped around my exposed toned waist, I winked at the camera. That was a keeper. I quickly switched that to my default, so everyone could see what he had given up. A knock on the door startled me, making me jump up and shut my computer. Dad walked in, his head down. "Honey, I just realized something awful. I've been neglecting you, and-" He had finally looked up at me, and his words were caught in his throat. I crossed my arms, making my breasts even more prominent. I was frowning, almost sneering, at my daddy. "And you missed my birthday? And my Prom? And you're about to miss my graduation!" I exclaimed, throwing my hands up in the air. He stared at me, his lips curling down into that parental frown. "Why are you dressed like that, Lauren." He didn't ask, but rather demanded. "Well, my boyfriend, who you never had the chance to meet, by the way, cheated and broke up with me today. And since you didn't want to talk it out with me, like a daddy should, I'm going to find a new one." I said, turning on my heel to face away from him. It was childish, but damn it I was hurt, and when it came to him I would always be a child. I heard him sigh heavily, making my eyes start to burn with tears. I just wanted him to love me, to take care of me. I know my mom leaving was hard on him, but what about me? I jumped slightly. I felt a warm hand slide across my belly, grabbing my side. Daddy spun me around until I was facing his chest, and held me tight. I closed my eyes instantly, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. I haven't been a good daddy," He said, picking me up like I weighed nothing. It surprised me, I hadn't realized he was that strong! Sitting down on my bed, he sat me in his lap like I was still five. My head rested against his shoulder, while his hands gently stroked my back and thigh. I sighed softly, that's all I had wanted, was my daddy to care, and comfort me. "I missed you, Daddy," I murmur against him, squirming in his lap to get closer against him. He started to clear his throat, as my ass squirmed against his crotch until I was comfortable. I could feel his eyes drifting over me, from my curled hair, tits falling out of my shirt and pressing against his chest, to my barely clad legs, hanging off the side of his lap. "I missed you too baby girl...I can't believe I missed you growing up so much," He said, his hand on my thigh drifting upwards slightly, grazing my ass. I smiled inwardly to myself, feeling his fingertips on the hem of my shorts. My daddy was finally paying attention to me. I squirmed in his lap again, resting my head far up on his shoulder so my breath hit his neck. Daddy got braver, his hand now fully on my ass, rubbing it gently. I have a happy sigh, knowing he could feel my hot breath and hear me perfectly right by his ear. I felt him stiffen, in more ways that one. Sliding his legs, he laid down in my bed and pulled me on top of him so we were chest to chest. He placed both hands on my ass cheeks and began to knead and massage them, making my moan quietly. I could feel my pussy begin to dampen. I could also feel my daddy's semi hard cock grow against my belly. His hands dipped lower, and I know he could feel the heat of my pussy through my shorts. He groaned and rolled me over, kissing me deeply, keeping me pinned to the bed. "Baby girl, I'll never neglect you again," He promised in between kisses, his fingers finding my hard nipples and giving them a tweak. I moaned against daddy's lips, squirming beneath him. I could already feel an orgasm building fast. He must have sensed it, because he stopped kissing and tweaking me, and instead kissed each of my breasts, lightly. He continued down my stomach, untying the shirt and letting it fall open. His tongue flicked over each of my nipples, sending electricity through my body. "Oh Daddy," I moaned softly, running my fingers through his dark brown hair. That seemed to encourage him, as he kept kissing down my flat tummy, coming upon my unbuttoned shorts. He kissed right above my panty line, before sliding both my thong and shorts off in one tug. I laid in front of him naked and horny, waiting in anticipation for what he would do next. Ever so gently, his tongue began to prod at my pussy lips. He pressed it as deep inside of me as he could, his nose rubbing against my clit. I moaned loudly, my fingers gripping at the bed sheets. Keeping his tongue in my dripping pussy, he added in two fingers and started finger fucking my G-spot as his tongue lapped up all the juices. I bucked my hips against his face, whimpering, "Daddy, Daddy, I'm cumming," I nearly whispered, my body shaking from the intense orgasm my father had given me. As my orgasm subsided, he bit my inner thigh, making me gasp. Sitting up, I undid the front of his jeans, pulling them and his boxers down. Daddy's long thick cock sprung out to meet me, and again I was surprised. I hadn't expected daddy to be this big! I eagerly wrapped my lips around his cock, drooling down the sides of it so I could slide up and down on his full length. My lips suckled against him, as I took my daddy's whole cock down my throat. He moaned and bucked his hips, fucking my eighteen year old mouth. "Oh baby girl," he moaned, his hand getting tangled in my hair as he used it as a hold to push my head down onto his cock. All of a sudden he pulled his dick out of my mouth and grabbed me round the waist, flipping me over to my stomach. Straddling me from behind, he pulled me up to my hands and knees, and began to tease my dripping cunt with the head of his cock. "Please Daddy," I whimpered, looking back at him. "please Daddy what, Lauren?" He asked, still running his head up and down my slit. "Please, fuck me!" I begged, pushing back to get the head of his cock inside of me. "Of course, baby," He smile, thrusting deep into me in one go. I screamed, my tight pussy being stretched over his big cock. He put his hands on my hips and began drilling me hard and deep, making my tits bounce. Seeing this, he paused, and without removing himself from me, flipped me over onto my back. He continued to fuck me hard, watching my tits bounce with each thrust. He leaned down and took one into his mouth, his tongue swirling around the hard aching nipple. His hand went down to my pussy, and just barely grazed my clit. My back arched, as I was thrown into a frenzy of orgasms, one after another. He didn't stop massaging my clit as he pumped into me, his mouth leaving my tit and going to my neck. He sucked and bit at my neck, making me moan even harder, my pussy tightening around his cock like a vice. He moaned and pushed into me once more, before I could feel his hot cum filling up my dripping pussy. After we recovered, he laid down in bed beside me, holding me close. Smoothing my hair down, he kissed my temple, and then the hickey he had left on my neck. "I love you baby girl, I'll be a better daddy from now on," He said softly, kissing my cheek. "I love you too daddy, all I've ever wanted is your love," I smile, closing my eyes. Teaching an Old Dog *Author's Note: Any and all persons engaging in any sexual act are at least eighteen years of age. ---- Barbara and Ronnie met when they were in college and everyone was shocked when the raven-haired beauty took up with the not so attractive young man. Her parents were severely disappointed in their daughter's choice and rarely let an opportunity pass where they did not tell her of this fact. Ronnie had the last laugh; though. He and Barbara eloped, denying her parents of the elaborate wedding they wanted for their only child. Then they moved from New Orleans to Atlanta, further denying them any contact with their daughter. If he answered the phone when they called, he'd tell them that Barbara wasn't in, or was too busy to come to the phone. Chapter 1 "That's it, suck it, you filthy slut," he ordered and Barbara slurped at Ronnie's throbbing cock. He pulled out and sprayed her beautiful face with his come, then slapped her for wasting his come. "You are so fucking lucky I let you suck my cock, then you just go and waste all my come?" He screamed at her. "What's the matter? My come isn't good enough for you, you fucking whore?" "I'm so sorry, Ronnie," she sobbed as she scraped the sticky blobs from her face and licked her fingers clean. : Yes, you are," he hissed at her. "You are the sorriest fucking piece of shit I've ever seen." She gasped out loud when he cruelly pinched her nipple and used it to pull her to her feet. Again, he slapped her face, then whirled her around and bent her over the counter. His cock slid into her drooling pussy and she screamed in orgasmic bliss. Even after twenty-two years, he still made her orgasm just by entering her. ---- The boys she'd dated when she was in high school and in college were such wimps; fawning all over her, giving in to her every demand. Ronnie curled up his lip, told her she was only good for one thing, and she wasn't very good at it. He told her point blank he was going to pick her up at seven thirty and she better have money, because he sure as hell wasn't going to pay for her meal. In the car, she tried to act demure and proper, but he yanked her panties off and stuck them in his pocket. She looked at him in stunned disbelief until they pulled up to the small restaurant. Inside, he held her hand in a tight grip and ordered for her. "You know, I'm kind of tired of listening to you just prattle on and on about absolutely nothing," he told her after the dinner. He leaned back in the car seat and unzipped his pants. "If you're going to run your fucking mouth, why don't you put it to some use?" "God damn, is this the first fucking cock you've ever seen?" he screamed and grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled and pushed her sucking mouth on his cock until he shot a load into her mouth. "Think I want to fucking kiss you after you just got a mouthful of my spunk?" he snarled and slapped her. "Next time I pick you up, you better not have on any fucking panties, dumb cunt," he told her and drove off. ---- On their next date, he brutally took her virginity then made her clean his cock with her mouth. A couple of beers later, he again fucked her and laughed when she expressed concern about pregnancy. "That's what a cunt is for, fuck toy," he said and again made her clean him off. It tore at her heart; her parents just didn't understand, nor did they approve of the most wonderful man. Damn it, Ronnie was a real man, not a sniveling, whining pathetic excuse of a man. In fact, the more they complained, the more she began to see that they were pathetic, whining, groveling small-minded people. Chapter 2 At forty-three, Barbara Ross was an attractive woman. She was tall, five foot ten inches, with thirty-eight D breasts, a slim thirty-inch waist, despite having two children, and a thirty-six inch pair of hips. Ronnie cared enough to remind her that she was getting fat and saggy and now had a few strands of gray in her dark hair. She pushed the buggy up the grocery store aisle and picked up the hair coloring dye and put it in the basket with her other items. She was careful not to bend over too far; her mini skirt was too short for carelessness, wouldn't want anyone to see that she did not wear panties. Her blouse was a long sleeved one; it hid the bruises along her arms, but it ended just below her heavy breasts, exposing her mid-section. She smiled at Joey, her son's best friend and he exchanged some pleasantries with her before returning to his job of stacking the cans on the shelves. She liked Joey; he was an attractive nineteen-year-old youth that flirted with her whenever he came over to see Bobby. He was an outgoing young man, athletic, yet studious, the complete opposite of Bobby, who was bookish and quiet. Ronnie and Joey got along great and often horsed around, something that Bobby and his father just didn't do. She also knew that her eighteen-year-old daughter, Rebecca had a big crush on the handsome young man. "You look fabulous, Miss Ross," Joey said while pointedly looking at her legs. "Oh, shush, Joey, I'm nothing but an old dog," she giggled. She realized that her pussy was getting quite wet from the attention that Joey was giving to her, so she stood and talked and giggled some more before his manager came along to see what was taking the youth so long. She again had to be careful when loading her groceries into the trunk of her car and even more diligent when unloading the groceries when she'd arrived home. Mr. Stratton, the old pervert across the street tried very hard to peer up her skirt while she unloaded the groceries. Chrissie's car was parked on the curb in front of their house and she wondered where Bobby's car was. Chrissie and Bobby were dating; she was a bookish, quiet type just like Bobby. She was also bone thin, a fact that Ronnie pointed out to her quite often. He delighted in grabbing her flesh and telling her that Chrissie was nice and thin, instead of fat and flabby. She dropped the heavy groceries when she entered the kitchen. Ronnie was standing in front of the kneeling Chrissie who was slobbering all over Ronnie's cock. The girl squealed when she heard the commotion, but Ronnie slapped her face and grabbed her head in a fierce grip. "See, you old fucking hag, this is how a real woman sucks cock," Ronnie neared at her. The twenty year old resumed her wet, noisy worship of Ronnie's cock and Ronnie sneered at the now sobbing Barbara. "Seems your pathetic son isn't man enough to keep this little cunt happy," Ronnie laughed as he punched his cock in and out of the girl's face. "So, I've got to do the job for him. By the way, get your shit and get out." Chapter 3 Four days later, a somber Joey helped Barbara load a couple of boxes into the back of his pick up truck. Bobby and Rebecca also helped load the boxes, then Bobby followed the truck in his mother's car, which was also loaded down with Barbara's few possessions and smiled sadly as they pulled up in front of his mother's new address. Barbara was moving into a condominium she'd purchased with her inheritance from her deceased father. They made quick work of unloading the boxes and Barbara tearfully hugged Bobby and Rebecca before they left. Joey surprised her with a quick kiss on her lips and Bobby and Rebecca got into the pick up truck and Joey drove them back to the Ross' house. Barbara's breast still tingled from when Joey slid the business card of a divorce lawyer into pocket of her blouse. ---- "See, you fucking wimp, that's how you're supposed to treat a bitch," Ronnie sneered at his son as his son's former girlfriend knelt at Ronnie's feet, nude. They'd dated for four years, ever since Sophomore year in high school, but the furthest Chrissie ever let him get was to squeeze her almost nonexistent breasts through the outside of her blouse. She'd certainly never let him see her nude. "Get me a fucking beer, fucking tit-less wonder," he ordered and Chrissie leapt to her feet and scurried into the kitchen. "You dated that cunt for four fucking years and never had the balls to pop her cherry?" Ronnie sneered at his son. "No wonder she dumped your pathetic fucking ass." Ronnie was stunned, though, when Barbara actually had the temerity to go to a lawyer and file for divorce and spousal support. His own lawyer didn't seem to understand that Ronnie wasn't supposed to have to pay anything and spoke of negotiations and compromises. Chrissie received the bulk of Ronnie's anger when he got home and Bobby winced as he saw the thin red welts the dog leash had raised on Chrissie's bone thin thighs and buttocks. Chrissie wore them without complaint, just as she wore the dog collar around her neck without complaint. "Aw, is little Mommy's boy going to cry?" Ronnie sneered at Bobby as his eyes started to water. "God, what a pathetic little faggot you are." The divorce itself went through with little fanfare, but receiving her spousal support proved a bit difficult; Ronnie would make Barbara call him and beg and plead with him for her money. Chapter 4 "Why Joey!" she exclaimed as the youth stood on her doorstep. "What a nice surprise!" It had been two months since the last time she'd seen him; the grocery store he worked at was too far away for her to shop there. "Uh huh," he said and shoved in past her. She closed the door, mouth open in surprise at his rude, abrupt behavior. "Okay, bitch, you've been teasing me all these fucking years with the little skirts and skimpy tops," Joey said and grabbed a stunned Barbara's hair and pulled her to him for a forceful, painful kiss. "Joey, no! Barbara cried out when she was able to pull away from him. "What?" he screamed at her. "What? Stick your ass in my face all the fucking time, then want to tell me 'no?' I don't fucking think so, whore!" Weakly, she struggled and fought against him as he dragged her down the hall to her bedroom. He used her hair to drag her along and slapped her face a few times to quiet the cries that emitted from her mouth. "Get them off," he ordered and began to strip his own clothing off. She sobbed in shame as she unbuttoned the long sleeve man's shirt and exposed her sagging breasts to his gaze. A slap to her face hurried her along and she dropped her short skirt to the floor. "God damn, what a hairy fucking cunt you got," he said, disgust evident in his voice. "I'm sorry," she sniveled. "Yeah, well, we'll just have to make the best of it," he said and roughly grabbed one of her large breasts in his hand and yanked her to her knees. He pressed his erect cock to her lips and she opened her mouth wide for his meat. She was on the brink of orgasm; Joey's cock was nice and fat, at least two inches longer than Ronnie's. She coughed and sputtered and gagged as Joey shoved it roughly down her throat, using her hair as leverage as he fucked her face. He stiffened and groaned as he began to spew his come down her throat. "Fuck, I see Ronnie didn't teach you shit about sucking cock," Joey sneered as he wiped the last few dribbles of his come onto her flushed cheeks. "I'm sorry," she sobbed, so painfully close to orgasm. "Let's see if he taught you how to fuck," he said and again used her long hair to guide her onto the bed. She sobbed as the youth's large cock speared her cunt and he laughed, a brutal bark of a laugh as she sobbed her shame in roaming the moment he entered her pussy. Several slaps to her face and large tits and she was sure she would black out from the continuous orgasm. She thought she would scream as she felt his white-hot semen flood into her unprotected pussy. "Get me a fucking beer, cunt," he ordered and when she didn't move fast enough, kicked her hard in her ass. He stretched out on her bed and took another hit of the joint he was smoking. She handed him a beer and he drank it down in one large gulp. "Thanks, bitch," he said and dropped the tiny remnants of the joint into the can. Barbara heard the hiss as the joint was extinguished in the remaining liquid. "Why don't you suck my nuts, instead of just standing there, stupid cow?" he ordered and Barbara quickly crawled onto the bed and began to tongue his hairy, sweaty balls. He smiled down at her and pulled her legs up and over. "God, what a hairy fucking cunt," he spat and she groaned as he cruelly yanked and pulled at her pubic hair. "Now, get my cock good and wet," he ordered and she slobbered spittle all over his cock. Ronnie used to like to have her get his cock good and wet, and then he'd fuck in between her large tits until he spewed his load all over her chin and neck. "On your hands and knees, fucking cow," Joey ordered and she did so, wondering what the young man had in mind. "Oh, my God!" she screamed, waves of pain coursing through her body. Joey had punched his cock roughly into her unsuspecting rectum. Although just the head rested inside of her, she was sure he was splitting her in half. Ronnie had never ever put his cock in her rectum; he said he was no faggot. Joey grabbed each of Barbara's breasts in his fists and squeezed them as tightly as he could, the flesh pooling through his splayed fingers. She couldn't breathe; the pressure on her breasts was inhumane. She was sure her breasts were about to pop from his strong grip. She grunted and screamed out as he lifted her torso up until her back rested firmly against his smooth, hairless chest. This pulled her slightly off of her knees and her own weight caused more of his cock to slide into her tormented rectum. "God damn, you're tight," he said and twisted her breasts in his grasp. ---- She came to, laying flat against the bed. Joey pulled his cock all the way out of her raw bowels, then plunged all the way back in. Her mattress was damp where her drool had pooled under her face. Her breasts felt as if they'd been torn from her chest. She didn't recognize the sounds in the bedroom; it dawned on her it was her own whimpers she was hearing. "Aw, fuck yeah!" he cried out and she felt long streams of his hot spunk flood her bowels. "Aw, you fucking whore!" she heard him scream. "You got your fucking shit all over my cock!" "I'm so sorry," she sobbed. "Let me clean it up for you." "Fucking right you're sorry, you fucking old dog!" he said and again her hair was put to use. She wanted to vomit as she felt him wipe his soiled cock in her hair. ---- At the door, Joey slapped her a couple of times, then roughly kissed her and promised her he'd be back for more of 'that tight ass of hers.' "I might even bring a few of my friends," he threatened. She fought the urge to ask him when he'd be back, knowing the answer already; he'd be back when he wanted to come back, not when she wanted him to be back. ---- "Maybe divorce isn't such a bad thing after all," she smiled as she closed the door behind Joey. The End Teaching An Old Dog A New Trick This story is dedicated to the author called Madison018. Her stories are so fine that I decided to write this because I learned something about myself while reading her stories. I hope that she likes this one. I wrote it because I’ve been reading about Dom/sub relationships and am VERY curious to find out whether I’m a Dom or not. This is kind of a fantasy and kind of a reality story. Some parts are real but I’ll leave it to the reader to decide where the line is. ---------------------- I’m just your average guy. Or I thought so… up until the events that I’d like to tell you about. Up to this point in my life I never thought of myself as unusual. My tastes in women were just “normal”. What turns me on is slightly built women with small breasts. I like olive skinned women with all but red hair. Now, don’t get me wrong…I have lusted after, dated and even married a red headed women. It’s just that blondes, brunettes and raven-haired women are more to my liking. I’m recently divorced and live fairly close to an Ivy League University In New Haven. The neighborhood is pretty well dominated by apartments that cater to the University’s students. My own apartment is modest but comfortable. It’s in a rather large house that’s been converted to apartments by the landlord and as I said there are students living in the other apartments. I know all of the kids in the building because for some reason, I’ve been unofficially designated as kind of the house protector and father figure. There’s a really nice assortment of men and women of various classes. We have three seniors, four juniors and one sophomore. Everyone has their own kitchen/dining room, bathroom and two rooms that can be used as a bedroom and living room. As I said, cozy. Up until about a week before the fall semester began, there was one empty apartment. That’s when a nice looking woman moved in. I didn’t meet her until about a week after she moved in. I literally bumped into her one day in the hallway. I apologized and introduced myself. “Hi. My name’s Tom and I live in the apartment at the front on the second floor”, I told her. “Oh, hi. I’m Madison and Sherry told me about you. She said that you’re nice and that you’re friendly. She told me that if I have any problems that you’re very helpful.” “Well, Madison, I keep to myself when it’s warranted but I like the people that live here. If you have any parties, let us know and we’ll keep an eye out for you. If you need anything else, look me up and I’ll do what I can.” “Thanks, Tom, but parties aren’t my style. I’m a freshman and I’d like to make good grades while in school so there won’t be much of that in my place.” “No problem even if you do, kiddo. We like to have what we call “community dinner” about once a month or so and this month is my turn. It’s pot luck and everybody contributes, so stop up on Friday night at about seven and we can all get acquainted, ok?” “Thanks, I’d like that, Tom.” With that she flipped a wave at me and disappeared on her way to classes, I guess. I remember thinking that she was a pleasant woman in every way. She’s pleasant to chat with and very pleasant to look at, I said to myself. She has brown hair that reaches a little below her shoulders and a very nice shade of green in her eyes. She’s thin, about 5’ 5” tall and nice curves. What struck me, though, was the fact that she has smallish breasts. Her breasts are not very small but on the small side. However, they had a nice fullness and shape. She has the body type that has always turned my head. Friday night arrived and the other kids (as I called them) started to drift in with their cheery banter and a small dish to share. Everyone had arrived except Madison but nobody gave it another thought. As we heated up the dishes and started in on the feast, I finally recognized that Madison hadn’t arrived. I mentioned it to Dina who was in the kitchen with me. She also seemed a bit surprised that Madison hadn’t yet arrived. I told Dina that I would go down and see if she was home and extend another invitation in case she felt out of place. I knocked on the door and I was pleasantly surprised when she answered. “Hey, are you attending our little house dinner?” I asked as nicely as I could. “Well, I thought that I’d skip this one because I really don’t want to impose,” she replied. “Impose? What impose? We do this all the time. How else are you going to meet your neighbors?” I bantered. “Come on, everybody’s up there already and you are definitely not imposing,” I tried to reassure her. “Well, I don’t have anything to bring,” was her reply. “Never mind that. It’s your first time and I really don’t think that anybody would mind all that much. You can get to meet your neighbors and they will be more than happy to help you get oriented to your surroundings and the fact that you’re a freshman would be to your advantage, you know.” I think that was what convinced her to join us. The rest of the evening went pleasantly and I think that everyone enjoyed the company. I know that I did. Madison fit in pretty well and the talk seemed to flow easily enough. We all chipped in with our advice on the area and the kids seemed happy to help Madison get oriented to the university buildings and the culture of the place. Madison was the last one in the apartment and she and I just chatted away the night. I learned about her, told her about me and we just filled the night with idle chat about everything and nothing. When she said her good night, I was struck at the fact that she was, indeed, a pleasant young lady and told her so. She smiled and said that she, too, had enjoyed the evening. I told her that if she needed anything that she shouldn’t feel that she was imposing. She immediately got the joke, giggled and graciously accepted the offer. She surprised me when she moved close as if she were going to whisper something but gave me a peck on the cheek and closed the door behind her. Nothing much happened for the next few days and weeks. You know how it is…life just seems to roll on. I saw all of the folks in the house and we chatted and went our way. Then one evening after I had come home from work, there was a knock on my door. I answered the door as I was changing my shirt. I quickly pulled the shirt over my head and opened the door to find Madison in an agitated state. She seemed upset at something, so I invited her in. I expected her to cry at almost any moment. I asked her what seemed to be the problem. She told me that her computer had crashed and she was in the middle of writing an important paper for a class and that she could not get the computer back up. I offered to look at it for her to see if there was anything that I could do. She knew that I was into computers and that I had one of my own so she gladly accepted the offer. We sat down at her computer. The power lights were on but the screen was blank. I asked her to describe what had happened. When she told me what had happened and after some cursory diagnosis, I figured that her hard disc had crashed and was unsalvageable. Then she did start to cry. I quickly told her that she could use my computer to finish her paper. I asked if she had her notes and whether she could rewrite her paper from scratch. She sniffled, and nodded her head in the affirmative. “Well, then, I think we should make tracks up to my apartment and get you going if you’re going to get it finished in time,” I said. “Ok, but it’s going to take me all night. Can stay there until I finish?” she asked. “Of course you can. I don’t have any plans to use it tonight, anyway. You can stay until you’re finished, ok?” That seemed to do the trick. She settled down and followed me out of her apartment. We ambled up the stairs to my place while did my best to cheer her up. I think most people would call it flirting with her. The funny thing is that most people would be right! I was flirting with her. The realization almost floored me. I hadn’t flirted with a woman in a long time…certainly not with a woman almost twenty years my junior and DEFINITELY not one of the girls in my complex! I went to the dining room, armed with my checkbook and the stack of monthly bills that had to be paid. I figured that this was as good a time as any to do the monthly chore. When I looked up, Madison was standing in the doorway to the room and was leaning on the frame watching me work. “What’s up?” I asked. “Nothing, just taking a break,” she said. “Well, come on in and I’ll get a soda for us and we can take a break together or a beer if you’d rather that,” I said. “No, soda would be fine,” she said as she sat down. I retrieved the glasses, poured the soda and sat down to chat. After a few minutes, I again realized that this was more flirting than idle chat. Then IT happened. The it was something that, at the moment, seemed innocent. Madison knocked her glass of Pepsi over and it spilled onto the pile of “paid” bills. She jumped up and seemed to run in three different directions at once. I calmly rose to get a towel to wipe up the spilled soda. But Madison was anything but calm. She kept muttering to herself about being so clumsy. I tried to brush off her comments but she wouldn’t hear of it. What she said next still reverberates in my brain. It seemed like a strange thing at the time and after we’d cleaned up it still hung in the air. What she said was and I quote “I deserve to be punished for ruining your paperwork.” “There’s no problem, Madison. Why don’t you go and continue working on the paper for class,” I suggested. “Ok, but I’d like to talk about this later. Ok?” she asked. “Ok, but there really isn’t anything that needs talking about.” I thought that I was reassuring her about the accident. After a long while, the checks were written, the envelopes stamped and I was in the mood to watch some television. It was getting late and I decided that I would just go to bed instead of disturbing Madison. The television and the boob tube were in the same room so it just seemed natural to hit the sack. I told Madison of my decision and that she was welcome to stay as late as she needed to finish her paper. I would turn in and she should turn out the lights on her way out of the apartment when she was finished and that I’d see her tomorrow and look at her computer to see what she needed to fix the problem. She agreed and went back to her task. The next day, after I arrived home from work and had changed into more comfortable clothes, I went to Madison’s apartment to look at her computer. As it turned out, she wasn’t home yet from classes, so I went back to my digs and set about preparing dinner. After I had eaten dinner and cleaned up the kitchen, I was just going to watch some television and laze about for the rest of the evening. Then I realized that I’d promised Madison that I’d look at her computer. I headed out the door and when I reached her door, I gently knocked. Apparently she had just arrived home because she was dressed in her usual class attire. She had on a pleated skirt that came to about mid thigh, knee length socks and a pretty blouse that accentuated her feminine curves. “Hi, Tom. I just got home and was about to come up to your place.” She delivered this almost in a whisper. “Hi Madison, I came down to look at the computer to see if there’s anything that can be done to salvage the hard drive,” I said. “Oh. Ok, come on in, then.” I couldn’t understand her hushed tones and reminded myself to ask her about it when we were through with the pc. The examination of her computer was done pretty quickly. I turned to her and gave her the bad news. “You’ll need a new hard drive and I can do that for you and have you back up in about three days, depending on our schedules meshing. As long as I can get to the store and into your apartment tomorrow night and the following night, you’ll have a working pc by Friday. Are you free tomorrow night as well as Thursday night?” “No problem, Tom. I’ll make sure that I’m free. I depend on the pc to study and to research class assignments. I’ll do whatever I have to do so that I can have it back as soon as possible.” She was still conversing in those hushed tones and it was starting to bother me. It felt like she was not fully responding to me. “Madison, what’s wrong? There’s something happening and the way that you’re responding to me isn’t like you at all. I feel like you’re treating me like you expect me to hurt you somehow.” “Well, last night is still bothering me.” “ What do you mean? You used my pc to do a paper and left when you were finished. It doesn’t bother me, so what’s bothering you?” Her voice got quieter still as she responded, “ Well, I DID spill my soda all over your paperwork and I need to be punished.” We were still seated at her desk and her eyes never left her feet. I almost fell off of my chair. “Punished?! Punished for that? It was an accident and we both cleaned up the spill quickly.” “I know it was an accident but I wasn’t paying attention and made a big mess. For being so careless I deserve to be punished.” She was still looking like a little girl and speaking in those hushed tones. I was, to say the least, curious about what she meant by punished. I decided to dig deeper into what she thought should be an appropriate punishment. “OK, let’s say that you should be punished. What do you think we should do about it?” “Well, usually I’d get a spanking.” That line was delivered so quietly that I thought that I hadn’t heard her correctly. “Oh. Just who usually did the spanking?” I asked. “Well, my father usually punished me but I’ve been punished by a couple of teachers and once by my neighbor. He was my father’s close friend.” Sweet Christ, I thought. This isn’t an act, and furthermore, there’s more going on here than just corporal punishment. “Is that what’s warranted here, too?” I asked. “Well that’s what usually happened when I was careless or misbehaved. Is that what YOU think should happen?” I continued along this tract. “Well I’ve never administered a spanking to a young lady. What usually happened when you were spanked?” “My teachers and my fathers friend put me over their knees and spanked me.” She was blushing at this admission; but I knew that there was more, much more, to this story and I wanted to find out the entire tale. “Madison, look at me when I talk to you. Tell me exactly what happened when they spanked you.” I felt that I needed to assume a stern tone to get to the bottom of this spanking business, so I put on my best game face. In barely a whisper, Madison told me, “ After I lay across their knees, they lifted my skirt and pulled my panties down and as they talked to me about my behavior, they began to slap my behind. I was so ashamed but at the same time I was extremely excited.” BINGO! I thought. That’s what’s going on here. I immediately knew what was expected of me so I then calmly but sternly told her that she must indeed be punished and that I would begin to administer her spanking right now. “Lay across my lap,” I told her. She looked a bit apprehensive but quickly complied. As she lay across my legs, her skirt had ridden up her thighs a bit. I began to caress her bared legs and slowly slid my hand up her legs, slipping her skirt up in the process. As her panties came into view I noticed that she was wearing black, sheer panties. They allowed just a hint at her fine, fine ass cheeks and I was truly mesmerized by the sight. When her skirt was out of the way, I began to caress her cheeks while I spoke to her sternly. “This spanking will make you aware that you will be more careful and more attentive when you are in my apartment. Do you understand, Madison?” When she whimpered in the affirmative, I slid her panties to about mid thigh. I then asked her again whether she understood what I had said. There was another whispered, “ Yes.” I brought my hand down hard against her pretty left ass cheek. A loud crack startled her. I told her that she must answer me and to let me hear the answer. More convincingly, She said, “I’m sorry, yes.” I administered another hard slap to her right cheek and I was sure that the contact is what made her jump. I also heard a slight moan from her. I began to administer a first class spanking to her tight ass. All through her punishment, I spoke to her and began to tell her that this is what she could expect whenever she misbehaved or became careless. To her credit, she received her spanking without the tears and crying that I had expected. As I approached slap number 12, I realized that she was becoming excited. Rather than moaning from pain or humiliation, she was writhing on my crotch in a very suggestive manner! Then it dawned on me that I was rock hard! Her movements were right on my cock and only increased my own excitement. At this moment, I knew that she was getting some stimulation from my spanking and at that moment, I began to caress her cheeks. I started to caress the reddening skin of her ass and as I did so, I deliberately began to inch my way to the slightly parted juncture of her legs. When I reached that juncture, I felt the unmistakable wetness of sexual arousal. Her secretions had soaked the hair that surrounded her treasure. I knew that I was in VERY unfamiliar territory. I ran my fingers through the leakage of her pussy. I felt astounded that a woman could get this aroused from a spanking but like a magnet I was drawn to continue running my fingers through the fine hairs of her most private parts. When I heard Madison’s breathing become more labored and slight sighs, I asked her “Does that feel good, Madison?” Her only reply was to moan louder. I slapped her ass again, harder than I had previously. “You didn’t answer me Madison.” This time I got the required answer. “Yes, it feels really good, Tom.” I slapped her ass again and said, “You will address me as Sir when you get a spanking. Do you understand that, Madison?” Her reply was immediate and in the manner that we had agreed upon. “Yes, Sir,” was all that she said. “Good. Now let’s see if we can take some of the sting out of the spanking, shall we?” When she replied in the proscribed manner, “Yes, Sir.” I began to caress her cheeks again. I also began to make my way down to her cunt. When I reached the wetness in her crotch, she spread her thighs slightly. However, her panties, being at her thighs, prevented her from going too far. I then pulled them down to her ankles before removing them completely. I then put her panties on the desk. I was again reminded of my own arousal because she began sliding her crotch over the shaft of my cock. I hadn’t been this hard in a long time and decided to prolong the sensations that she was re-awakening. At this point I remembered that her punishment had aroused Madison but I wasn’t sure what more she needed. So I asked her to tell me what else her teachers and neighbor had done to punish her. She got really quiet again as she answered me. “Do I have to tell you?” she softly asked. “Yes, you do and because you didn’t call me Sir, I want all of the details. Remember that if you don’t tell me everything you will be punished again and that will be more severe, so I suggest that you give me all of the particulars.” Madison began to softly sob as she told me her tale. “ I was punished by my teacher first because I was late for class. He made me come to see him after school was out for the day. I met him in his office. He made me lay across his lap as he spanked me on my bare bottom. He then rubbed my cheeks, like you did. It started to feel good and I noticed that he was getting hard, like you are now. I started to rub his hardness with my pussy and he got harder. I noticed that his rubbing got closer to my pussy, like you were doing. He then told me to get on my knees and take his cock out of his pants. I never heard a penis called a cock and it sounded so dirty that it made me hotter. I got on my knees between his legs and opened his pants and took hold of his penis. I had never seen one in the light and so closely before and I was so hot. I then took his pants down while he lifted himself up. His penis was so big and hard. I took hold of it and he showed me how to rub it so that it felt good for him. He was moaning that it felt good. Then I noticed a drop of liquid was at the tip and he saw me looking at it and he told me that it was called pre-cum. He told me to lick it off of his cock and I did. It was strange because it tasted a little salty but the consistency was like nothing I’d ever tasted before. Doing that only made me hotter, if that was possible. Then he told me that he was going to teach me how to blow him. I’d heard of blowjobs before from my girlfriends but never imagined that I would do something so gross. I was so hot for his penis that I let him pull my head towards it. I kissed it when he said to do that and I licked his pre-cum when he told me to do that. I couldn’t believe how excited I was. My pussy was so wet that it was practically dripping. Then he told me to take the head into my mouth and lick it while it was in my mouth. After a little while, he started to slide it in a little bit further and then back out. He kept doing that but he went a little deeper into my mouth each time he slid back into my mouth. It wasn’t long before he was touching the back of my mouth near my throat and I gagged. He told me that later he would teach me to do it without gagging but that for now I shouldn’t let it go that deeply into my mouth. He also told me to move my head up and down and to keep my lips tight around his cock. I began doing that instead of him sliding it in and out of my mouth. I was able to do it without gagging. Before long he said that I was doing it just right and he was almost ready to cum. I got scared and started to pull him out because I had never even seen a penis, let alone make him cum into my mouth. He grabbed my hair and pulled me back so that he was almost at my throat and I felt his penis throb and then he began to spurt into my mouth. He told me to keep his cum in my mouth and not let any dribble back out. So I did. He tasted salty and it was a lot of stuff coming out of his penis. I was scared but at the same time I was really excited. I had never been so hot, not even when I made myself have an orgasm with my hand. When his penis stopped throbbing, he told me to swallow all of his cum. I felt so dirty but I did as he said, I swallowed it all. His penis was still in my mouth and he started to get small and soft. He pulled my head back away from his penis and told me that that was the best blowjob that he had in a long time. Then he told me to stand up, turn around and lay across his desk. I did it and he pulled my skirt back up around my hips. When he did that, I realized that my bare pussy was exposed to him. He began to play with me and slid his finger up me. I felt like I was on fire there as he began to play with my pussy. He played with my pussy and then with my clitoris. I had never felt this hot. He made me orgasm and I just lay on his desk, afterwards. As I got my breath back, he told me to stand up and face him. When I did, he told me that I should never tell anyone about what we just did. I told him that I wouldn’t. I knew that we would get into trouble if I told anybody. He told me that I should go home now and to think of the consequences if I misbehaved again. He punished me a couple of times after that but then school ended and I graduated.” Teaching An Old Dog A New Trick I was mesmerized by her tale and I was also hard as an iron bar. “There’s more isn’t there?” I asked. At this question, Madison slid from my lap and knelt in front of me. “Yes there is but right now I don’t think that I want to tell you any more, Sir. I don’t think that my punishment is quite finished and I think that you need to finish what we started before I tell you everything.” She demurely reached for my belt and loosened it along with my zipper and button. She reached into my boxers and took hold of my dick. I lifted my hips and she let go of Mr. Johnson so that she could slide my pants down my legs. With that done, She just leaned in and enveloped my cock. I didn’t have to do a thing. I sat there while she bobbed her head along the shaft. Her hands held whatever she didn’t suck into her tight, warm mouth. I felt her tongue dance along the crown of the head as she provided the softest suction at the same time. She did this for a short time but I got an idea. I stood up. This surprised her and she let me slip from her mouth. Looking up into my eyes, she started to say “Aren’t I doing it…” I didn’t let her finish. I lightly took hold of her hair and moved her back onto my tool. I then started to fuck her mouth, slowly and gently. As I got close to my release, I told her, “Wet your lips because when I start to cum I want you to just use your lips on the head. While I’m cumming, just slide your lips back and forth over the head of my cock.” Her only response was to mumble and “Um Hum”. Long before I wanted this to end, I was ready to cum. I told her to get ready because I was going to blow my load all over her tongue. She moaned. I moaned and then let loose. She responded by backing off until my head was sawing back and forth across her lips. The only word that I can use to describe the sensation is exquisite. She bobbed her head on my head while she swirled her tongue around the slit of my cock. I’ve gotten head before, but I’ve never felt like I did when she coaxed the sperm from my balls. I simply cannot use enough superlatives to equal what she was doing to my cock. I haven’t cum this intensely or as supremely in my life. All too soon, I was shrinking in her mouth. She wasn’t through, though. She kept me in her mouth while she provided a suction and licking motion on my deflating cock. I had to physically pull my cock from her mouth because I was getting too sensitive. I plopped back down into the chair and looked deeply into her eyes. She returned the stare and asked, “Did I do it good enough for you?” “Madison, that was without a doubt, the best blowjob that I’ve ever had. It was so good that I need a minute to collect myself. After that I want to do the same for you. Would you like that?” “Nobody’s ever kissed my pussy while I was being punished before. It’s usually administered with me and then I get the guy off, then he’ll play with me until I have an orgasm.” “Woman, I’ll do whatever you’d like but as far as I’m concerned, there’s nothing like having an orgasm from your partner’s oral ministrations.” She gave me a questioning look and I said, “There’s nothing like getting head. I think that it’s better than playing with your partner.” “Well this IS supposed to be punishment for me, isn’t it?” she asked. “Oh, it is. But that’s past now and I’d like nothing more than to lick that little pussy until you cum so hard that you scream yourself hoarse. Now, stand up, turn around and bend over the desk.” When she did bend over, her skirt had fallen over her ass and most of her long, lean legs. I sat and leaned forward to cares the back of her legs. Moving my caresses slowly up her legs, I lifted her skirt along the way. I deliberately avoided parting her legs and embracing her mound. As her reddened cheeks came back into view, I admired my handiwork anew. Her crimson cheeks looked beautiful. I was getting turned on again by admiring her ass as well as by the fact that I had administered that color to such a delectable ass. After lightly stroking her ass, I slowly made my way to the juncture of her legs and parted them so that I could administer to her pussy. I played with her outer lips and deliberately didn’t touch anywhere but on the outside of her cunt. I wanted to save that for later. Shortly, I leaned in and began to lightly kiss her lips. She had by this time begun to breathe heavier than normal and by her hips’ movement, I knew that she was getting more and more turned on. Parting her lips with the fingers of one hand I began to use my tongue on her inner lips while I moved my other hand to the front of her mound. I was simply astounded by the taste of her. Her taste was slightly tart but at the same time it was very sweet. I’m not sure to this day, how that could be but I do know that I wanted to tongue fuck her for as long as she would allow me to do it. Running my tongue through her slit and around the opening to her insides, I began to tease her clit with two fingers. It didn’t take long before she was shaking and quivering in her orgasm. I knew the moment that she went over the edge because she just moaned until she practically begged me to stop eating her. I reluctantly complied but told her to stay where she was. I did, however, continue to caress her ass and talk to her while she came back down to earth. When I felt that she was sufficiently recovered, I stood up behind her and took hold of my cock and began to rub it across her slit. At this point, I was as hard as Chinese Hieroglyphics, again. I told her to move back away from the desk enough so that her head was all that was resting on the desktop. I moved back with her because I wanted to keep teasing her outer lips. Her wetness was sufficient enough that I was just sliding through her hair. Oh but the sensations on my cock were more than adequate for me! I began to get hotter and hotter. Apparently the stimulation was adequate for her as well because I heard her little moans of satisfaction. When I thought that the time was right, I allowed her lips to engulf my turgid cock and slip just inside her sloppy cunt. Then I just held there to let her know what was going to happen next. Before I allowed myself to go balls deep inside of her, I told her, “Madison, I can’t get a woman pregnant and I don’t have any STD’s. I’m gonna get as deep inside of you as is possible.” Her only response was to sigh, “Do it! Fill me up!” I slowly slid my entire length into her exquisite cunt. Her sheath felt like hot butter. It felt like liquid silk. It felt like fluid ecstasy. It felt like all those things together! The wetness of her pussy combined with the heat of her need and the softness of her wantonness almost made me blow my load into her depth. I didn’t, though. I wanted to prolong this feeling forever. What I did do was to slowly stroke my cock into and back out of that heaven. I had moved her away for the desk so that I had access to her breasts. I now slid my hands up under her blouse and under her bra to grasp her nipples and tweak them while I was sawing against the opening of her womb. I hoped that I was hitting the secret spot inside of her honey hole. The only sound was the squishing of our wet flesh sliding and squirming against each other and the sighs of our contentment. I also hoped that I could get her off before I did. To make sure of that, I brought my best hand down to the front of her slit and found a very excited clitoris. I did my best to stroke her there, while my left hand continued to massage her breasts, especially her nipples. In a very short time she was pushing back into my thrusts and it seemed like she was gong to go over the edge of her need. I provided her with my best efforts to make that happen. When she started to cum, I released her clit and delivered a stinging slap to her already crimson ass. I guess that my hunch was right, because Madison gave on loud cry of “Oh, Yes!” I did my best to prevent myself from spraying her insides with my own desire. I just let her slide back down the other side of her orgasm. When she had regained her senses, she asked me, “You didn’t cum did you?” “No”, I answered, “But I will in a very short time.” I backed out of her tightness and told her, “Turn around and slip to your knees, again. I want you to use your magic mouth again. Have you ever tasted pussy before?” “No…Yes…once.” I left that discussion for a later time. Right now, I needed to paint her tongue, again. “Well, have you ever tasted yourself, before?” “No, but seeing as how you want me to, I want to do that for you.” Christ, this woman was so hot and SOOO eager to satisfy me! I couldn’t believe how much I wanted her to cater to my desire. I wanted her entire focus on my gratification. She didn’t disappoint me, either. She took control of the situation. I didn’t have to move a muscle. She did everything… for MY pleasure. If my life depended on it, I couldn’t tell you exactly what she did because I was so overwhelmed with delirious sensations. All that I can tell you is that at the moment of bursting into her mouth, I looked down and saw her take me out of her mouth and glide the head of my cock back and forth across her lips. Sweet Christ, I have never had that happen to me in all of my life. The sensation alone was beyond incredible! The visual stimulation was beyond my experience. Seeing my dick burst it’s discharge on her lips and slide down her chin and melt into the fabric of her blouse was past the most erotic sight that I’ve ever witnessed. Only when my dick had stopped it’s spasm across her lips and started to deflate was I able to make any attempts at coherent thought. I had to physically stop her stimulation of my now wilting cock. I grabbed her head and held her still, my dick still connected to her gooey lips. When she realized that I wanted her to stop, she leaned back away form me and while looking directly into my eyes, she slipped her tongue out and licked her lips clean of my emission. While I held her gaze, I brought her up so that she was standing. I looked deeply into her eyes. I noticed a trail of my discharge down from her lips to her chin. There wasn’t much there as it had mostly dribbled from her chin to her clothing. I leaned in to the most desirable lips that I’ve ever wanted to kiss. She began to withdraw form me, until I pressed her towards my own mouth. We did a slow sensuous tongue dance. When we broke the kiss, she murmured, “Wow, I never had a guy kiss me after I gave him a blow job, before.” My only response was, “Madison, if your mouth gives me that much pleasure, I’ll kiss you until you can’t kiss again. That was the most intense sex that I think I’ve ever had. After you made sure that you had satisfied me, I think that the very least I could do is to show you how much I appreciate your efforts. In fact, I’m going to kiss you again. I’ve never tasted myself on another woman, but with you, it just seems right.” I again leaned in for a replay of one of the most satisfying kisses in my life. When we broke from that kiss, I maneuvered the chair over so that I could sit. I pulled her down so that she was sitting in my lap. I needed to tell her some things and I wanted to keep the intimate contact throughout the discussion. “Look, Madison, today has been a kind of eye-opening experience for me. And I need to discuss it with you, ok?” Her doe-eyed response was, “Sure.” “I’m not really good about talking about sexual matters and especially matters of the heart, so if there’s something that’s not clear, please, just let me know and I’ll do what I can to make sure that everything is crystal clear, ok?” Again she responded with, “Sure.” “Ok. I was very uncomfortable with your “punishment” at first. I only thought that spanking was a painful reprimand. Today, however, I found out that spanking can be a very powerful and erotic experience. I’ve heard of women that are subservient to men. I had always thought that it was aberrant behavior, filled with pain and humiliation. Until today, I never thought that subservience could be so wonderful. And here, I have to assume that it just as good for you.” I hesitated. She just said, “I loved what happened.” Man, she has a way of saying so much with so few words. “Well, I have to admit that so did I. I’d like for this to happen again. Not from just the sexual aspect but also from the intimacy aspect. The Dom/sub thing has me curious and excited. I’d really like to explore that aspect in both of us. I liked you from the moment that we met. I’d like to spend time with you. You know what I mean…talking, cooking, cleaning, laundry, shopping and all of the other things that couples do together. I guess that what I’m trying to say is that I’d like for us to be a couple. I think that I was falling in love with you before but now I want to explore that possibility with you. The only thing that I can see as a negative thing is the difference in our ages. I’m twenty some odd years older than you and I’m not sure how you feel about that.” “Tom, I knew that I was falling in love with you. I’d also like for us to be a couple. If I didn’t love you, I never would have exposed my sexual side to you. As it was, I wasn’t sure how you would react to my being a sub. Sub means subservient. I’ve known for a long time that I get off on pleasing my partner. I get just as much pleasure from pleasing my Dom (that means dominant partner) as I do from the sexual act. I get off from pleasing Him. Don’t get me wrong, I love it when He brings me off but it really does get me off knowing that I got Him off. Do you understand that?” “Not really, but I’ll follow your lead. I want you to get as much as you’ve given me. If that means I have to let you be subservient to me, then I’ll learn to do that.” “As far as the age thing goes, I’ve always been captivated by men that were older than I am. I think that older men are far more attractive than guys my age. I don’t think that your age is a negative thing. It’s part of what attracted me to you in the first place.” “I’m truly flattered…and happy about our relationship. There is one thing that I may have a little trouble with, though. Well two things, but first things first. The spanking thing has me a little bewildered. Is that a normal everyday part of our sex life?” “Let’s just say that spanking is a real turn on for me. It doesn’t have to an everyday thing, but yeah, it really gets my motor running. I want you to be comfortable with spanking me. I love spanking. I can’t explain why it gets me so hot but I just know that it does and I’d like you to be the one to get me hot. If it makes you so uncomfortable, just know that if it gets to be too much for either one of us, then the other party has the right to say enough or something like that, ok?” “Actually, that leads me up to the second concern. That is communication. I think that communication is the be-all of any relationship. Our relationship is going to need heavy doses of talking because of my learning role in this Dom/sub bond. I need to know lots of new things that only you can teach me about yourself and my new role. I hope that I can unlearn some of the stereotypical things that I’ve picked up from past relationships, ok? You’ll have to be patient because although I’m not your usual male chauvinist pig, I am somewhat of a chauvinist. Know what I mean?” “Don’t worry about it. We’ll be teaching each other. We’re both taking on a new role here, you know. And yes, I agree that communication is the foundation of any relationship and that ours will need liberal doses at times. That’s true of any relationship, though isn’t it?” “Yeah, I guess it is. I’m just trying to make sure that if there is a problem, it gets aired out before it’s too big to solve. That was one of the problems in my past marriage and I don’t want that problem to rear it’s ugly head at the most in-opportune times.” “I think that we’ll be fine as long as we both adhere to that philosophy. I want us to be so good together. I want to make you happy and I want our life to be happy. I want you. If what I’m feeling on my ass is what I think it is, I think that you want the same.” That last statement was delivered with a giggle that I’ve come to relay look forward to and enjoy in this woman. But that can be told in another story at some later time. Madison was scrunching her bare pussy across my hardening cock. Right now, I’ve got to quench another fire in myself and ignite another one on her ass. Teaching Assistants [[This story carries strong elements of mature and femdom in addition cross-dressing.]] * "Look at the girl at the counter behind me to your right," Anna said casually. Xander discreetly looked at the counter of the coffeeshop and saw a fairly thin woman in tight light blue jeans, arm in arm with a slightly taller man. Even in a pony tail her hair was long and, at least from the side, she seemed attractive inasmuch that she lacked any defining negative traits in addition to lacking great positive ones. She was a B average beauty. He looked back to Anna, asking for a hint of what to look for but her eyes darted to her left without looking at him or the woman. He knew he was supposed to observe the woman discreetly because Anna asked he do it in such a way that would draw no notice in the crowded coffeeshop. If she were to purse her lips and mutter what she wanted him to notice, it could draw interest from the couple next to them or worse the woman (or worse still her boyfriend) he was supposed to examine; he looked again but this time noticed what Anna wanted him to see. Nodding his head backward as his fixed his gaze to Anna's brown eyes, he mimicked her casually secret tone for one discreet word. "Thighs..." he said confidently. Anna smiled and returned his nod. Her eyes widened briefly in a quiet mock surprise. "They don't touch, like, at all," she started to show cracks in her stealth voice as a laugh tried to force itself out. Though not a victim of excessive gaiety, she found physical traits, most usually clothing however, worthy of a good laugh. Xander wondered whether this was merely a critique of a sickly thin woman or a catty joke to make herself feel better; either way it was extremely feminine. Xander noticed that the women who had nothing to worry about, at least weight wise, were most often the ones who obsessed with it. Anna, though not obsessive or overweight, occasionally talked about her size with mild complaint but without fishing for a compliment. That was one of the reasons he loved her. Anna recovered her composure and continued to hide her voice in "plain hear" (so to speak). It was a delicate method requiring careful sequencing and word choice. That meant that not only were curse words nixed but also normal words that sounded similar. And phrases composed of innocuous words like "go down on" also needed to be avoided or altered. "So would she work?" She resurrected a conversation they had not five minutes ago. Their conversation was about a possible third partner but somehow, he didn't bother to remember why, they got diverted. He looked at the woman again. "No, too skinny," he rejected. Xander was a proud chubby chaser but, as Anna was a shining example, he found thinner women attractive as well as long as they had an ass of some kind. Anna was his first girlfriend who weighed less than his soft frame. Noting his objection, Anna began searching for another candidate. Dwelling at one person behind him for a few moments, her eyes continued briefly but came right back to that spot. "What about him?" she continued in plain hear. Xander turned his head and roughly located where her eyes fell. A possible grad student with hair swept to the side like Robert Kennedy sat sipping a chai latte and reading the city's free newspaper. "He looks like the blond guy from Scooby Doo," he said contemptuously as he turned to face Anna. Squinting slightly, he turned again for a second look. "And I don't get that half shaven look. That would really scratch my thighs when he be-lows me," he continued, carefully choosing his words. "Yeah, I can understand that concern," she nodded understandingly. Xander always prided himself on handling taboo or hilarious subjects in a deadpan fashion at will. It was a trait he rarely found outside his generally cynical yet funny family and Anna was the wriest person with whom he had no blood relation. It was another reason he loved her. "But he kind of looks like my TA from Latin America..." By that she meant her teaching assistant Eric from History 260, Intro to Latin America, a class they shared. Xander had only seen him in lecture since their large class had nearly ten discussion sections and three TAs. He looked again. Yes, she was right. Aside from the hairdo he looked like him. "So you want to bring your TA into this?" Anna shook her head in reply and Xander, convinced she was no longer deadpan-humorless but serious, was quietly shocked by what she said next. "No, I'd want him on my own. I'm not going to share him with you," she said in plain hear and avoided the f-bomb which drew eyes at any volume. He was not quite sure where to go from there. Was she serious or had she called his bluff? Should he play along if she was joking or would he really be entrenching himself and encouraging her to cheat? "He's just so brilliant and hard working..." she said almost dreamily as her index finger circled the lip of her coffee mug and her eyes stared expressionless into Xander's. She was serious. Anna, more than any girlfriend he had had in his comparatively limited experience, talked often of her ex-boyfriends and occasionally their sexual escapades. This sort of talk did not make him jealous and he tended to merely laugh them off but this sounded different; she was talking about fucking a man while they were currently dating each other. Only when Xander came to university did he realize how fortunate he was to graduate High School without his virginity. When he discovered just how long it took what he termed "power couples" to first have sex, he was dumbstruck. Some who had been dating for two years had never even given oral whereas Xander, with the one High School girlfriend he had for the summer after he turned seventeen, went down on her after two weeks, and fucked after a month which included a one week vacation with his family. Anna had had many boyfriends and, until it came up in conversation, he had just assumed she slept with many of them. He even told Anna how surprised he was to learn that, in terms of how many months after their seventeenth birthdays, she lost her virginity to her third (and first long term) boyfriend later in her life than he did to his first (and three month) girlfriend. But her 21st birthday was just four months ago and his was coming shortly so, if one were to go chronologically, she lost hers first. But what made him feel doubly worse however was that she was talking about fucking the TA when they had not even slept together after five whole months which, after casual conversations about her sex life, was not unusual and the reason she escaped sleeping with all her boyfriends. Nervously Xander decided to play along. "Eric? But he's so goofy looking..." he squirmed uncomfortably and waved his hand away. Anna looked quizzically at him and he thought he noticed a bit of anger behind those brown eyes. "He's not goofy looking," she defended, this time with a glare and a tone she reserved for sarcastic reprimands. He sighed quietly in relief that she was merely joking about the man. "And he's kind'a short." Anna could not defend her TA there. For a man, he was indeed short but still quite handsome with a defined jaw and short but wavy black hair very unlike Xander's soft and almost feminine face and hands. He never felt self conscious about his femininity but it routinely embarrassed him whenever he wore his hair down and got mistaken for a woman. "So how about your TA?" she asked in a normal voice. "Merilen? She's OK." "No, I mean look-wise. Would you bring her to bed?" She brought TA fucking back up again after he thought it was settled. What was going on here? "Well, yeah, she's pretty." Indeed she was. Though she was a thin woman, even thinner than Anna, she made up for that short-coming with sexy tan skin and perfect but slightly accented English. He recalled her recitation of Spanish poetry in section once and, perhaps because he did not know Spanish, he became swept into the rhythms of words. He recognized many words from he had picked up among the Latin American community but, coming from the mouth of the sultry Cuban brunette, they and she seemed exotic—nothing like the poor Indian descended Mexicans who worked two or three jobs in the States to support their families stuck in the old country. "I wouldn't want to do her though. She's pretty and all..." he drifted. "Would you to any other TAs?" She continued. Xander thought briefly and arrived to his History 398 TA Stephanie. She was a grown woman in her late thirties or early forties but aside from her gray hair, she did not look a day past 25. And even with the hair, he determined it was genetic since it came in one large patch. Two thirds of her right eyebrow and a portion of her temple on that side were a silvery gray. Though still thinner than he went for, that is to say normal weight, she drew his interest for her frankness and love of history. He told Anna about her. "So do you want her?" "Anna, I'm a man. I want every woman." "But of all the women you know right now, no matter how shallow of a relationship you have with them, would you put her at the top of the 'if I could do her' list?" He thought about it for a moment. "The top five I suppose." "Great. Do you want to see who can do their TA first?" "Huh?" he quickly ejaculated in the non-sexual way. "You know, a competition. See who can get their TA in bed first..." she shrugged slightly. Was she serious? Xander waved her question away and tried to change the subject but she proved resolute. "Why not?" she pleaded but still retained the conversational upper hand. "Well for starters, you and I haven't even had sex." Anna said nothing but looked unsatisfied by his explanation. "And besides, I think my TA is a lesbian." Anna broke into a punctuated laugh. "What makes you say that?" she nearly shouted amidst the close ears of the crowded coffeehouse. "Well, her doctoral work is on lesbian pulp fiction and she teaches a history of homosexuality course in another college," he answered honestly. Those were two of the first things she told about herself in his section. The third was an explanation for her accent. She was from coastal Georgia and, like many left minded people who move up north, she was mildly ashamed and bashed her homeland every chance she got. "Studying homosexuality doesn't make, or mean I should say, you're gay," Anna began defensively. "No it doesn't. But it doesn't hurt. Think of Afro-American studies majors—how many white people do you suppose are in that field?" Anna pursed her lips. "Granted. Well, my TA has a girlfriend in Japan. I think we've evenly matched handicaps." "Oh bullshit! No way is yours comparable!" he abandoned the "plain hear." That was it. He had gone too deep. Now he was not sure if he was merely going along with the joke or encouraging his cuckoldom. Recovering, he successfully changed the subject and they talked pleasantly for another hour before she left for a class. She paused by his chair on her way out, nearly saying something but thinking better of silence and leaving him in favor of the mid-afternoon light. Xander tried to do the homework he brought with him but he was too distracted by what could very well just be one elaborate joke. It was not until five pages into his book that he realized his eyes were merely glancing at the words and his mind, dwelling over the previous conversation, absorbed none of them. He noisily slapped his hardcover textbook shut and placed it in his backpack. After gulping his now cold coffee, he exited and walked across the street to the local coöperative book store, hoping for a novel to take his mind away from history and his girlfriend's inappropriate proposal. Perusing the stress induced bent and dusty shelves, he came to the latest Margaret Atwood and brought it to the counter. "Are you a member?" a larger woman with a few piercings and tattoos asked from her stool. "No." The woman looked at the book and smiled a bit. This was the kind of author to attract just the right kind of woman who would enjoy Xander's wit and intelligence and this clerk, who was a bit above his preferred body type, seemed to be taking the bait even though he wasn't trying. Ever since he started dating Anna, he found quiet relief in not examining every interaction with women for a sign, a hope they may have sex with him. "Is that all for today then?" she asked in a lazy wo/man's suggestive sell. He absent mindedly turned his head to the shelves by the exit as he reached for his wallet. Just as he was about to say "no" once again and further rebuff the clerk, he noticed bold capital yellow letters against a red spine of a thick paperback amidst a sea of gray and black hardcovers. He nearly shrieked with delight. "LESBIAN PULP FICTION" "Yes, one more thing," he said as he walked over and plucked the book from its home and slammed it upon the counter. The clerk looked at the cover which bore a color illustration of two women. The one in the foreground had a volumous fifties hairstyle, a naturally cinched waist and wide hips, and was striking a pose with her hands behind her head while stripped of all but her low rise underwear, which barely hid her pussy, and a bra that struggled to contain her massive pointy breasts. The other woman, wearing an elegant purple dress, was behind a sketchpad and stared lecherously in the background. The clerk gave him a queer look. "Homework?" she joked, ready to become offended at a moments notice if he was buying it for titillation. "You know, it kind of is. It's a TA of mine's doctoral subject." Believing him, the clerk's smile returned as she rang up the two books. He paid, thanked her, and exited. As he walked back to his apartment, he reached for his cell phone. Rather than use his limited daytime minutes, he sent Anna a text message. Also if she forgot to turn her phone off, the text's ring would be more brief than a call. After her lecture, Anna switched her cell from silent to vibrate and quickly noticed Xander sent a text. She pressed VIEW and smiled playfully but with a bit of menace. Her right thumb typed the same text as her own reply; "Game on..." Several days of discussion passed before Xander realized their bet, treated as a harmless novelty when proposed, could have lasting effects on their relationship. Anna concurred and they agreed that total communication was a must. That way either could back off without fear of ridicule and, if feelings for their TA conflicted with their feelings for each other, it would be discussed openly and honestly. Inexperienced with life let alone sex, neither considered the existence of similar agreements between loving couples nor the consequences of failure. Over the coming weeks Xander read the compilation of 1950s lesbian paperbacks and was struck by how diverse they could be. Expecting merely sex at first, he was surprised to find tenderness, hate, love, lust, reluctance, hollow endings, hanging endings, and the same cynicism he encountered in other books. Furthermore this was all accomplished with mere excerpts from selected novels. The editor, who admitted to lesbianism in the introduction, explained quite well how such books could exist on the shelves of drug stores in Levittowns across America. Slowly but surely, his archetypical understanding of the decade his parents were conscious for and the Cleavers seemed to exemplify was being deconstructed. Before he could execute his plan however (which was fortunate since he did not have one yet), he employed strategies to get in his TA Stephanie's radar. In section, he took longer than his peers to assemble his effects and thus be alone with her to talk for a few moments. He also contributed to the discussion as he normally would but with more conviction and insight. Once, after a semi-private, softly spoken, and brief in-class argument with Stephanie about the Soviet Union's economic influence in the world economy, she offered departing considerations for the rest of the students; those words resembled his position instead of the one she believed not ten minutes previous. He thought it unlikely she had merely played Devil's advocate earlier. Anna was doing far better. She routinely stopped by Eric's office hours and even sent a not-so-subtle e-mail asking him to coffee. He politely rebuffed with a banal message reminding her of his office hours. Sure she was shot down at first, but at least she had even asked. Xander's problem was merely finding an in. Anna, in another trait that made him love her, spoke the same way she dressed. When among friends and a careless comment came from her lips, one heard almost simultaneously a single reply. "Inappropriate!" and they would all laugh. She was an attractive young woman unashamedly throwing herself at a handsome (Xander did not think he actually was goofy looking) grad student whose girlfriend was probably the mistress of some Japanese salary man long since disinterested by his wife. Men were only as faithful as their options and, with enough persistence, Anna would become one. But Xander's in came just two weeks after they started their competition. Study carrels in the library Xander worked were in high demand. Though they were in theory checked once a year to clean out unused but still registered ones, the practice seldom matched and he had to empty one five years unused. Among its assorted pictures of a probably long since gone girlfriend and office supplies was a book on San Francisco Queer culture. At first Xander thought it a good book to understand a family member who was recently divorced from a long marriage and, quite by accident, was revealed to be a closeted gay or at the very least bisexual. As he turned its pages, he remembered something Stephanie said one day in section. "One of the great things about being a pop-culture historian is that I can make references to TV shows instead of, you know, books..." she humored. He tucked the book away. Though he still needed to figure out the delivery of his approach to Stephanie, he knew it would involve that San Francisco book, the pulp fiction, and his family member. Also in the meantime Xander and Anna continued to socialize with their respective groups of friends and end their nights with a pleasant cuddle, spooning, and heavy petting. When they were not lying in one or the others bed, he rarely thought of sex. Her short blonde hair reflected the moonlight, shining upon her temptingly soft thin lips in the darkness. Whenever he vaguely saw her features in the darkness, he wished to work up the courage to ask for sex. Anna, despite her modern day interpretation of chasteness, had been quite clear a few months previous that she merely awaited his word for the go-ahead. Though she seemed very dominant and independent in how she carried herself, dressed, spoke, and resisted his attempts to buy her extravagant gifts, and pay for meals, she was sexually submissive. He called her, he made dates, and when lying in bed he assumed the dominant position by either wrapping his leg or arm around her while his nose nestled in the back of her baby soft dark blonde hair. Sometimes she would take the initiative and remove her bra to let him play with her fairly large and soft breasts. He loved to reach his hand through the middle and gently rub her chest just below the neck. Also from behind he liked to encircle her aureola with his index finger until her puffy nipples stiffened to large points. Or when they did not lay down together he was quite content to massage her small feet for hours and, if he felt friskier, he would massage her inner thigh to give him an excuse to get his nose closer to her aromatic musk emanating from her wetting vagina. It was the best they could hope for as two submissive lovers unable or unwilling to initiate sex. Teaching Assistants CH. 02 [Chapter one is located in the Transsexual/Crossdressers category.] ANNA The following afternoon as was custom Xander and Anna met for coffee before their Latin America class. Both were punctual to a virtue but this time she was early, giving her the pleasure to find him walking through the door. Well, walking was not the proper word for it, more like hobbling. He seemed to clench his butt cheeks and use a rolling gait as if he wore stiff prosthetic leg. He drew a few stares from his fellow regulars who, in a superficially familiar way, considered taking their eyes from their cyber-novel and ask him what kind of accident he got himself into but Anna, with whom he was near infinitely more familiar, knew where his clenched steps came from. Her reaction began as a chuckle she tried to contain with her hands but soon eyes from the same patrons shifted from him to her and a loud almost maniacal follow up drew the rest. They did not understand why she would laugh at her boyfriend's obvious discomfort or let alone why she would point and ridicule him while jumping in her seat. He sarcastically smiled and chortled back as he waited for his coffee. She was still laughing when he hobbled to the table and, very delicately, set himself down. Still not settled, she continued to point with her whole arm and laugh. "Yeah, yeah, but at least I won..." he tried to say over her cackle. "I'm sorry..." she managed to say between breaths, "I couldn't quite hear you sissy boy!" He nervously scanned the audience hoping they did not hear this last part. Anna noticed and began controlling her laughing spasms. He angrily glared at her but in a playful fashion one reserves for pets when they do something irritatingly cute. "Are you done yet?" he asked humorlessly. "No!" she continued to laugh. It took a whole two minutes before she could calm herself down. Satisfied, he continued. "I'm sorry I'm late, but..." "BUTT is right!" she shouted as she shot forward and laughed again. Shortly her breathing returned to normal as if she recovered from a splendrous orgasm. "You know, I may hurt, but I still won..." he defended smugly. "Won what? We didn't bet anything." "Pride. That's what we bet. The one who can raise his head in the air....." "More like raise YOUR butt up high!" she resumed laughing yet again. He decided to add nothing for fear of baiting the hook further. "So how're things with your TA?" he changed the subject from his accomplishment to her shortcomings. "Huh?" "Your end of the wager." "What end? There is no 'my end' anymore because your end ended it. You won, sort of." He stopped to think about that. He was pretty sure their bet had an assumption of intercourse, at least on his part, associated with sex so in this regard he did not have it. However, he and his assertive TA certainly fucked. "A technicality." "And since when does that not count? If that's the case there are a hell of a lot of virginal gay men out there," she argued to the affirmative. "And why are you pressing me to..." she showed concern for the first time as she stopped abruptly and scrutinized the patrons. "Why are you pressing me to do someone behind your back? I thought we'd be done with that now?" she said as she reached and held his hands tenderly. It was strange—Anna was doing everything she could to argue Xander had unambiguously won and thus ended the bet. Xander wanted to tell her exactly why; if she started fucking her TA on a regular basis, he would have license to see Stephanie and get the dominance he needed. Stephanie did things to him that a fellow submissive like Anna would never perform herself and he needed any way to let this happen and keep the deep emotional bond and loving relationship that he could never get nor desired from Stephanie. Anna after all held the key to his heart. Besides, the thought of another man fucking her and, after he left, she rubbing his cuckoldom on his face, was naughtily arousing; his cock responded appropriately but was blocked by the chastity device he still wore per Stephanie's orders. This was the other reason he needed to continue seeing Stephanie—she held the key to his other love muscle. "It was your idea and I want to give you latitude," he lied. "Remember what we agreed on from the beginning? For this to work we need total communication. I'm not forcing you," he wanted, "and it's not my decision," he wanted it to be, "and you've said your concerns like we agreed." Anna withdrew her hands and stared to her left. Though she did at times wish to wrap her smell fingers around Eric's hot prick and shove it inside her mouth or cunt, actually pursuing it was another matter altogether. Xander, it seemed, got past any initial fears and dove in head first...between his TA's legs. She had actually given up on the bet weeks ago when Eric casually mentioned that his girlfriend in Japan was visiting soon. Her mother, whom she had not gotten around to telling she was dating Xander, told her to go with it anyway since "those things never last." She nearly did try again but when a fellow student interrupted their meeting, it gave her an out. "C'mon, I'm not only giving you my blessing, I'm encouraging it. At least think about it?" She stared at him. "OK," was all she offered before they changed the subject and eventually went to class. With the afternoon sky came Xander to her rooming house and they cuddled in darkness atop her sheets. Unlike usual, Anna felt naked despite his warm embrace. She stripped of all but her underwear and went under the sheets, Xander's arm firmly squeezing above her waist. Still she felt uncovered but she was unsure how else to remedy the problem. As a temporary solution she tucked the sheets around under her body and squeezed her legs together, feeling momentary relief but soon she became accustomed to this and was wanting again. "Xander, squeeze me please..." she asked softly. He complied but it was far more delicate than she wished. Thinking it merely her mistake for not specifying how hard, she asked again. She grunted slightly as his forearm pressed her stomach against his body but she moaned as well. Unfortunately she felt his muscles quiver as they exerted themselves and she knew he could not maintain it for long; but after all that, she was still becoming acclimated anyway. Xander, who was slightly overweight was, though not enough for her needs, strong. He was always good at opening jars and soda bottles; with the latter he would habitually screw on the cap so tightly that anyone who wanted a sip had to have him open it. She made her decision. "I think I'll talk to Eric tomorrow." "Good, I love you babe," he replied as he gently squeezed her small frame. "I love you too..." and so they stayed like this until she had to leave for a shift at her job. "Anna," a veteran waitress nearly a decade her senior called, "bus 5 and 15 already!" Holding a half wrapped flatware bundle, Anna scowled in her general direction and angrily slammed it upon the empty booth. It was the customary booth to use when wrapping silverware but really any one of the dozens of free ones in this slow Tuesday evening would have done fine. Though Anna was by no means afraid of hard work, even beyond creating a good impression for her new job, she thought it asinine to push herself like she would when the place was full. When they were busy, tables needed to be done quickly regardless of what else needed doing. And when they were not busy, tedious but interruptible work like wrapping flatware was done. Anna bussed the dishes and wiped the tables with a warm wet rag in the sight of their few patrons. "What are you doing?" A male voice called. It was her manager Tom, a man as non-descript as his name who, despite lacking exceptional skills in any category including management, ran a whole restaurant with a free hand. The owner, a charmingly beautiful woman named Constance, was also his wife and, like the restaurant, he deserved neither. Though not cruel or incompetent, his mere presence inspired contempt from his employees whenever they first realized he deserved everything less than he had. Turn over, either from firing or quitting, was measured in the months. "Bussing," she replied curtly, sticking her tongue out slightly as she wiped a particular stain extra hard. "But I told you to wrap! We're almost out," he ran his thumb and index fingers down his mustache out of habit, just one of many peccadilloes that made an otherwise decent man so detestable. Anna closed her eyes and sighed. She snapped up and bit her lip slightly. Carrying her rag, she passed her boss. It was pointless to offer her excuse since he would reiterate the chain of command, only making her argue that central decision making would be bad policy since delegated authority, while occasionally hitting a speed bump like just then, was as a whole more efficient. He would disagree, reminding her that he had managed this restaurant longer than she had been born, and, depending on how arbitrary he or she felt that day, Anna would be gone. "You can never please 'em all," a new voice called to her as she walked past. "Oh, hi Eric!" she beamed. Xander sat typing the beginning of a class paper when Anna's distinct ring alerted him. "'Ello babe, what's up?" he asked with a playfully fake Cockney accent. "Get to my place quick. I'm out with Eric but he's in the bathroom," she said with a loud and urgent hush. "Get in my closet and stay there!" "You're gonna fuck him? Wow, that was quick!" he said with great joy and surprise. Anna was passive just like him so the only way she could bed him so swiftly was if he made a move. "Wait...your closet? Why?" "Hurry though—my phone doesn't have a speaker so you can't listen like I did and this'll be hotter. Stay there to watch until the end but text saying you'll be stopping by soon so he runs..." but she did not finish her statement as she cut their call short. He figured Eric must have come back from the bathroom—wherever that was. Leaving his report at mid-sentence, he immediately shot out the door and caught the bus for the one mile journey. With each stop and seemingly unnecessarily long pause or hesitation in traffic, he tapped his fingers against his thigh and secreted a cold sweat. His stop was immediately in front of the indistinct rooming house and, using a spare key Anna gave him some months back, he entered her room, turned his phone to vibrate, and walked into her spacious closet, shutting the doors behind him. The plan as far as he saw it was to text message his imminent arrival right after they finished just so they could laugh at his frantic departure. Goosebumps crawled up his arms. This plan was even better than his speaker phone trick. There he waited for twenty minutes, every time his spirits raised at the thought of the firm Eric kissing Anna's soft lips and impaling her to raucous orgasm, his penis battled its prison but inevitably lost. To make matters worse, he fantasized about the fun he would continue to have Stephanie. She mentioned something about clothes shopping, much to his delight. He was eager to get his female persona better dressed to satisfy Stephanie more than he had been able to with just his bottom. He wanted to be a whole woman for her bottom and top. Two pairs of footsteps sounded outside her door before the clanking of a key unlatched it. Through a small crack, he saw Anna enter first. She threw her keys onto her night stand and kicked off her shoes while he dropped his bag onto the floor. Glancing over the closet he superficially examined his new surroundings before kneeling to untie his shoes, his back remaining straight the entire time. When he removed his socks, Xander marveled at not only the feet's size but how they were matching bottoms to the top that was his head; they were lanky with defined bones that gave them a square—nearly goofy—look. "This is a nice place you've got here," he made small talk as Anna yawned, raising her hands ceilingward. "Not really. It's a dump but it's cheap, clean, and all mine." She collapsed backwards onto the bed and laid there, arms outstretched like Jesus awaiting the pierce of the Roman lance. It was Christ's destiny to be impaled by the pointed shaft and he accepted the inevitable death with selfless obligation. Unlike Jesus however, Anna did not feel obliged at all. Her TA looked virile and had a brain to match his wiry but strong frame and she preemptively decided exactly what to do. Like Xander when he left his phone on his night stand, Anne readily forgot he was even in the room as Eric walked slowly towards the bed and tugged at her clothing. Hovering over, he tucked his finger under her front pant waist and ran it underneath, catching a few hairs on her higher mons. It tickled her slightly but she resisted the turn-off of laughing and instead quietly inhaled as his fingers became his whole hand and a few hairs on her mons nearly became her clitoris. Armed with the patience and experience of an older man, he knew that bundle of nerves was far from ready to cum. "So whose that guy I see you in lecture with?" he asked distantly as he caressed her flesh. "That's Xander..." she supplied but awaited further prodding. She figured only answering direct questions would be a preventative measure in case blurting her arrangement with Xander was too tempting. "Is he your boyfriend? Are you serious?" "Yes he is," she answered his first question, pausing to consider the second. Yes, she supposed she was serious with him. But did this mean she was entirely loyal? Up until their wager she never seriously considered fucking another man—she had not even fucked her boyfriend yet. "Serious" contained gray areas further complicated by their arrangement and for once made her reconsider what exactly she had with him. She loved him deeply, she was certain of that even now after his incentive based cheating, but was it a lasting love? They were fundamentally different personalities, held different politics, and disagreed entirely on the metaphysical world yet they never fought. Xander insisted it was not because he quashed such feelings by bottling or humoring her whenever he took issue. Always emphatic and filled with 'wisdom,' he told her repeatedly that "Suppression of emotions," he started with his tongue rubbing the crease inside his cheek, "is one of the surest ways to bitterly end a relationship." And though he had not initiated sex yet, at least with her, just the thought he possessed the self control not to act was refreshing compared to her other boyfriends. But still she needed an answer for Eric so she chose a simplified lie. "No, not really." "Good," he answered happily. He removed his hand and gently pulled at her shirt, bunching it up above her naval. Anna understood what he wanted and sat up gently enough to pull the shirt off, leaving her in her plain black bra. Looking at her soft young tits, he went for her pants yet again but this time unbuttoned and unzipped them. Anna hooked her thumbs inside to remove them herself but Eric's large hands gently slapped them. Instead he gestured for her to raise her ass. After she complied, he grabbed firmly onto her jeans and tugged ruthlessly until they were off, revealing her matching black panties. God's chisel did not leave any marks when he created this Venus whose curves were proportional yet voluptuous, with thin legs and arms but a bit of flesh in her stomach and a fair bit more in her bosoms which slowly raised and lowered in an anticipation as his eyes sought in vain for imperfection. "Your body is that of the perfect woman," he stated simply while he caressed her soft stomach, tickling her moderately. Xander repeatedly told her that as well but despite his genuineness, it somehow meant more coming from Eric. His hands ventured to the lacy bra that centered her bosom as she lay on her back. He delicately cupped them, his fingers dimpling the tender flesh. "Take it off," he gently commanded. She raised her back and expertly reached behind, removing to her the barrier not a second later. She lowered herself down, putting her hands behind her head to let his eyes bear her entire bosom. Her breasts were so ductile that, as they spread down the side of her body, his eyes made out fine columned wrinkles running about the length of her copious tits like a fine piece of paper crumpled and re-crumpled. Being still a young lady, her millions of footsteps had already abused them with innumerable bounces and jiggles. He reached with both hands and gently grasped the melons again. Without the bra they felt delicate and he feared that, by pressing his eager fingers too hard, they would bruise. "Do you like them?" she asked, aching for a compliment from her silent partner. He shushed her delicately. "No talking please..." he drifted as he leaned his head to the side and rubbed the moist skin between her grand tetons. He bent down to his backpack and pulled a ball gag out. "Do you know what this is?" he dangled it in front of her. "Yeah, I think," she replied unsure of her answer. "Sit up." She rose into the light shining through her blinds, streaking her body with the street lamp's yellow sheen. Her head still shrouded in darkness, he found her mouth and securely fastened the gag behind. She groaned in protest when he pulled too tightly. "Don't worry, you'll get used to the pressure," he smiled softly as the back of his hand graced her blushing cheeks. "Turn around, get positioned." Despite not knowing what position he wanted, she figured any enthusiasm was better than indecisiveness so she lied on her stomach. Careful not to press her breasts too hard as her chest stabilized her front, she raised her hips with her knees until her ass displayed itself proudly and her panties rode into her cheeks. "You're such a loud self-righteous person in section Anna," he continued to caress her naked perfection, "Yet you're so compliant. Why do you suppose that is?" Her replying words were of course muffled by the large red ball strapped to her face. He listened attentively and softly grunted. "Yes of course," he answered, pretending he cared. He tugged at her panties, sliding them along her delicate curves until they stretched beneath her bush and exposed the vulnerable folds of her sex. "You are a woman of many opinions but you know so very little. You've yet to see what life has for you my dear," he whispered to her complacent form. "You want more out but you plague yourself with crisis. Just two months ago you talked with me about dropping out of school because you had a bad week. I'm sure to you this was just another week in a string of bad events that you've felt yourself a victim of," he awkwardly phrased, temporarily confusing her. "You are a victim" He brought his face closer to her ears and whispered softly. "You let yourself be the victim because you need the attention. That boyfriend of yours. You think you love him because he's attentive and listens, right? He indulges your spats thinking he's being supportive, right?" he answered his own questions. Though she would not admit it even to herself, he was absolutely right. As Xander looked on from the closet, he realized he knew it, too. Eric softly kissed her on the cheek, forcefully grasped her wrists, and tied them behind her back so tightly that she could not break free if she tried. A funny word "if". It implies all manner of choice and freedom—none of which she had nor wanted. Her naked body broke out in goosebumps while as ran his fingers down her trembling spine until they came to the dent of her ass. Suddenly he open palmed slapped her right cheek leaving a red mark from the bursting capillaries saturating the area. She turned her head to look back and cried weakly through the gag. Her rapid heartbeat engorged her labia and vagina already oozing from the sweet waiting anticipation for whatever he would give her. His fingers continued down her crack, stopping at her nervously clenching asshole. Teaching Assistants CH. 02 "Don't worry my dear, I won't touch that," he smiled reassuringly as she looked on and ignored the strain on her neck from seeing his every action. Gently he continued across her taint until his middle fingers traced a path through her thickly drenched sex. His slickened middle fingers reached her clit and traced circles around, tickling her quivering body and closing her overwhelmed eyes. Eric stood up beside the bed and daintily removed his clothing, revealing an eight inch cock as thoroughly filled and thrilled by his actions as she was to receive them. He positioned himself behind her and grasped her hips, rocking them slightly side to side as his knees compressed the bed like a kneading cat searching for a comfortable Goldylocks zone. Using one hand to guide his cock, he rubbed the head along her vulva and accumulated an animalistic sheen. Grasping it tightly, he guided it into her hole, careful not to fill her too quickly. She whimpered slightly as the head disappeared. After such a long time without sex, she was practically a virgin again and her muscles worked tirelessly to repel the intruder. Desperately she tried to stop them but like her rumbling heart, it acted independently. Weaker animals like skunks relied on smell to escape danger. Finding herself at risk with Eric, evolution seemed to have given her an odor that attracted trouble instead. Luckily the muscles grew tired and finally succumbed to his cock as it inched to fill her until he reached the hilt and he removed his hand from the base. Feeling his hair against her sensitive skin let her sigh in relief through her flared nostrils. Confident her cunt would raise no further objections, he removed hand came back to her hips. Withdrawing his glossy cock until all but the head escaped her warmth, he swiftly returned it and continued at an ever increasing tempo. His hands clenched her hips, using them as reaction to his thrusts, and slammed his throbbing cock ever harder into her wet vagina, his balls slapping against her clitoris. Anna's stomach dipped closer to her spine, her chest straining against the bed harder still each time he slammed into her. Without his hands forcing her closer to him with each thrust, and her bound hands immobilizing her, she feared she would get even less air to fill her already aching lungs but this only seemed to excite her all the more. His penetration was without tenderness. It was without love. Each successively harder and riotous filling cast more and more doubts about his motives out of her mind as she succumbed to his voracious appetite. She accepted her role without shame or remorse as her heart craved more and more of his attentions. Each lunge forward drew excited gasps, encouraging his not so forced entry into her sacred patch of womanhood. She usually knew her boyfriend's mother's maiden names before she even let men see her naked yet strangely this, which she once thought demeaning to her sex, seemed natural and like no other time before, she felt she had a purpose as she presented her pussy this truly brilliant man's own pleasures. His cock had but one reason to be inside her and he made no effort to please her otherwise. His single minded venture for coitus came but a few minutes later as his hips moved with blinding speed until loud grunts signaled his satisfaction which, after pulling out, his dick spat in great pearly beads onto her ass. The warm seed dripped down her curves and into the warm dwelling of her crack, catching onto her twittering crinkle. Heaving in relief for a minute, he undid her hand bindings and freed her mouth from the gag now thick with saliva. He wiped it on her sheets and put both objects back in his bag. He dressed and, grasping his backpack in hand as he softly kissed her forehead, left her sweaty body there frozen and presented for more as he left without saying a word. The moment the door slammed, the closeted Xander remembered the plan to text Anna about his imminent arrival and scare Eric out the door. When the scenario actually came,he forgot almost immediately after it began. The scope of their little game had gone further than either of them intended. He exited the closet. "So it's not over, is it?" he asked as he climbed onto bed with the woman he loved and simply lied there awaiting a response. Looking blankly at the door, her barely opened eyes revealed a void of any particular thoughts and dreams. The man lying next to her, though caring and compassionate, could never make her feel like this again. He was safe—like what she thought she needed. Her hips lowered onto the bed and she turned to her side, showing the back of her neck to her adoring boyfriend. He wrapped his arm around her and breathed the scent of her hair. He never did get a response from her that night and he wondered if she ever would again. He didn't bother to ask. Don't forget to vote and constructive criticism is welcome. Teaching Assistants When they talked about this problem, but not possibly what caused it, they would both merely laugh at themselves since neither was what one might call socially submissive; both were quite outspoken, opinionated, and more knowledgeable than even their like minded friends. It was their tragic luck that submissiveness shined in this one area called sexuality. XANDER After nearly a month of preparation, Xander felt confident enough to approach Stephanie in her office hours. When he shyly entered she glanced above her newspaper and looked up and into his eyes. "Xander!" She brushed her shoulder length hair to the side and smiled as she folded her paper into quarters. "This is a surprise. I thought I'd never see you here," she looked above her lenses with a slight laugh before switching to a coyly suspicious glare. "Or are you up to no good?" she said with a raised eyebrow and a slight squint. Very briefly he was frightened she knew his agenda but he just as quickly dismissed it. The only way she could find that out was if Anna talked or someone who happened to know Stephanie overheard them in the coffeehouse and described him, a generally non-descript person, to her. Blessed and cursed with few distinguishing traits, he blended into any crowd of white Americans of either sex. His hair was quite long but inconspicuous among men whenever under a cap or in a ponytail but when it was down, and much to his chagrin, the straight blond hair (at least when seen from the back) made him blend with the women, too. "No, not school work. I wanted to talk about lesbianism," he answered frankly. She nodded slightly. "Well, I'm not the best person to talk to about that," Xander turned his head to the left and squinted, "there's a whole division of the university for men just like you who think they may be lesbians and I urge you to talk with them first..." she spoke with a serious nod. He gently shook his head and smirked at her joke—only then did she laugh. "So what about it? I'm not one—just in case you were wondering. But I suppose my focus is like being an Afro-American studies doctoral student when you don't have to be black..." "...but it doesn't hurt," he finished for her, relieved that his goal was just a little closer to fruition. "Exactly," she answered in a slight irritance he didn't pick up. "So, um, yeah..." he struggled to remember his next rehearsed line. The original next step was to tip toe around her lesbianism but her un-prompted answer discombobulated him. "I guess I was wondering," he began as he sat down in the chair before her, "how you can be focusing on lesbian literature when you're in the history department. I mean, you say you do history of homosexuality, but wouldn't lit put you in that department?" "It took some convincing for them to accept it. To be honest, I think I got the grant because they want more homosexual studies. Sometimes I wonder if that's the only reason I got it like a..." "...black student, no matter how well his grades are, will wonder if that's the only reason he got in," he finished for her again. "Or her grades," she corrected sternly. He attributed it to what she possibly thought was intentionally sexist language. She splayed her hand palm up to him, "but exactly right again." "I've actually been reading some stories and they're quite fascinating." Stephanie raised her non-gray eyebrow. "Really, which ones?" Xander listed a few of the ones from the coöperative's compilation and the reasons, aside from their titillation of course, why he enjoyed them. "I had no idea the lesbian scene could be like that. Well, I'm sure it's stylized, but I never associated violence and abusive relationships with lesbians. You know? They're supposed to be the tender ones and men the mean ones." "From what I've read, yes, it is stylized, but not too much. The kind of women it takes to be brave enough and break sexual norms might not be the best people in other aspects. You know?" "Right, right..." he trailed off. "But if you're interested in others, this book is a pretty good place to start..." she reached for her book case and showed a dust jacket-less edition of the very paperback he had in his backpack. It was ironic. The editor of the book credited the paperback press for launching pulp and, to illustrate this point, went so far as to exclude hardcover books (including her personal favorite) and here was his TA with a hard cover edition. He gestured for her to wait one minute as he reached into his bag and found his paperback. "What made you buy that?" she asked with a laugh that abruptly ended. "Wait, don't tell me," she closed her eyes and touched her index finger to her gray temple, "the word 'lesbian,' right?" "And that it was your subject," he smiled, betraying his sarcastically defensive tone. "I had other interests as well. I read erotica on the Web so this was a chance to read actual published stuff. And homosexuality has come into my life pretty recently." "A cousin? Girlfriend?" Her last term was actually quite close to a fact of sorts. The last woman Xander slept with was a drunken one night stand. The girl, a butch friend of a friend, had mentioned that she was strongly considering her lesbian tendencies when they met earlier (sober). Despite this claim and with no flirting Xander could remember, she followed him into bed as if it was the ultimate course of the night. Despite her pleasant plumpness, her masculinity and the vodka made a potent cocktail that kept his dick flaccid. Feeling inadequate, he expertly ate her out for an hour instead. The next time they saw each other she had a thin but pretty red headed femme in her arms. "No, my dad actually." Stephanie blinked and tossed her head back. "That's a first I've heard that from a student. Was he married to your mom?" "For thirty-five years." "Whoa, how'd you handle that?" "Surprisingly well. After I learned, I looked back at all the hints and it seemed only natural, I guess." "Yeah—that's taking it pretty well. When my mom said she was a lesbian, I freaked and didn't speak with her for like a year," she laughed as she shook her head, its wavy gray locks swaying side to side. "So what's he doing now?" "Well I found all this out a year after their divorce. He lives in San Francisco now. Which brings me to something else..." he said with a crafty segue. He reached into his bag again and pulled out the LP sized San Francisco queer culture book and gave it to her. He told her how he came upon it and her quip about history texts. She laughed. "You know, I don't remember saying that, but it sounds like something I'd say. Thank you, but part of the problem is that there's precious little about this stuff. I'm something of a trailblazer," she laughed again as she swept her graying hair to the side in a familiar gesture. "Yeah, me, a trailblazer," she humored. "Me in a Conestoga wagon with a Winchester, the Misses by my side, as I analyze the prevalence of lesbian pulp fiction in Drug Stores across the US in the most socially reactionary decade of the twentieth century before I shoot a bison and cook supper over the fire!" They laughed together this time as both imagined the scene a la Little House on the Prairie. Their conversation seemed to steer naturally to television for a few minutes. This was not part of plan, but it seemed to loosen her up further. In class she occasionally made reference to enjoying old reruns of Alias and Friends, shows Xander never watched or would seldom admit to watch respectively. Then the subject came to a one-season wonder television show he had only recently become familiar with on video boxed set. "Oh, I've heard great things about Firefly. Could I see it some time?" "Sure, I can loan them to you if you'd like," he said pleasantly in the hopes of further earning her trust and appreciation for phase two of his plan. "I don't actually own a player. Could I stop by your place one night and have a little marathon?" Xander tried not to let his complete shock show. Come by at night? To his place? This was major and he had to play it cooly. "But aren't you grad students always so busy?" he joked cornily. Stupid, stupid, stupid! He yelled at himself. Stephanie didn't seem to notice and brushed it aside. "Pffft. There's never as much as we say there is. Tonight then?" Xander wrote down his address and cell phone number on a scrap of paper and she immediately entered them into her electronic organizer. They talked a bit longer with ever jovial tones until a student from another class she TAed for showed up. He rose, forgetting to shake her hand, wished her well, and walked away. Somehow he had to convince his room mates to stay out of the apartment for a whole night. Luckily, unlike an affair under normal circumstances, he did not have to worry about hiding his what-for. Or maybe that was not the way to go? If his room mates stayed in the living room, they would have to watch the show in his bedroom. He realized a compromise and skipped happily to his landscape architecture class. Later that night Xander had just finished his preparations when Stephanie rang the doorbell. His heart raced in eager anticipation of the night ahead, hoping for progress either by consummation or a prelude to such. Not once did he ask himself why it was easier for him to craft an elaborate plot to seduce his TA than initiate sex with the woman he loved. He opened the door, letting some light escape into the darkness, and welcomed her into his empty apartment. Even at this late hour she carried a backpack but, them both being students albeit in different leagues, he thought nothing of it. Her right thumb rested comfortably under its strap as her eyes looked above her small oval glasses at the apartment house and then to him. "Your hair's down," she observed. "Oh yeah," he chuckled to himself and ran his fingers through it. "I showered a little while ago and I forgot to put it back up when it dried." "Turn around, I want to see how long it is..." she said curiously, twirling her fingers before her. He complied and showed his back. "Whoa, that's way past your bra line." "Huh?" he looked back before turning around. "Your bra line. That's the reference point for women." "Oh, well, I'm not a woman," he shrugged his shoulders, prompting a queer look from Stephanie which she seamlessly masked as a laugh when he noticed. She glanced at the apartment again. It was reasonably clean but without much furniture, decoration, and one key object near the television. "Where's your player?" she asked quizzically. "Yeah, we don't own one. Well, WE don't. My room mates broke my last two players so I bought one to keep in my room for safekeeping," he answered truthfully. "You bring it out and hook it up every time you want to watch a video?" "Oh no, I have a TV in there for myself—it's just a couple inches smaller." Her brow rose for a moment. "I was about to disconnect it and bring it in here," he pointed his thumb behind him to his bedroom, "It'll just take a couple minutes." She shrugged her shoulders. "It doesn't really matter. We'll just watch it in your bedroom..." she replied nonchalantly. It was already going better than he hoped. "'Kay," he tried to sound indifferent. They entered his bedroom and she threw her backpack upon the floor with a dull thud. He pulled out an old bean bag chair for her, popped in the video, and with the remote laid down on his bed. As FBI warning rolled, Stephanie pointed at a small object atop the television. "What's that statue thing?" "That's St. Clare of Assisi, the patron saint of television She's there to sanctify the inherent slothfulness and therefore sin associated with TV." "Are you Catholic?" "Meh..." he lifted his head from his pillow, his free hand shaking with a "so-so" gesture. "What does she do?" "Glow in the dark." "No, I mean, like how you pray to St. Anthony if you lose some...wait...did you say 'glow in the dark'?" "Yeah." "Show me..." she said curiously but with forceful disbelief. He got off the bed and plucked 3½ inch St. Clare from her perch. He then closed his bedroom door, flipped the light switch, shut the blinds, and held her under his lone lampshade for a few seconds before turning it off and revealing the heavenly green glow of her robed figure. He waved it side to side, up and down, and in circles to let the light bleed into darkness pierced otherwise by the glow of the idiot box and street lights sieving through his blinds. "Whoa..." He put her back on top the television and lied down on his bed, not bothering to switch the lights back. Halfway through the pilot episode, Stephanie asked quite suddenly... "Do you have a girlfriend, Xander?" He was not sure where to go from there. Their campus was not very small but his paranoia worked overtime as he thought of possible ways for her to know he did. "Yes," he finally answered, just in case she knew. "Do you love her?" She got more personal. "Not really," he lied. No matter how much she knew, she could not know that. "We've only been dating for a little while and we're still searching for a connection," he lied again. She left it there for another Firefly episode. "This bag is uncomfortable, can I come on your bed?" she asked as she groaned and stretched. He moved farther to the side of the bed and patted it for her. With some effort, perhaps a testament to her near middle age attempting to fit in the young undergrad mold, she got up and lay down in Xander's warmed spot and shared his pillow but did not retract her person when their arms touched ever so slightly. The tension in the air weighed him down upon the bed. "Xander, do you find me attractive?" she asked without her usual southern accent. "Yes," he answered quickly. Stephanie raised her hand and dropped it to his penis, feeling the new growth strain against his tight jeans. Apparently the tension he sensed was entirely his own and she could smell it on his breath. "I have to confess, I hate science-fiction. This was all just an elaborate way to get you in bed. You were stupid not to realize but otherwise you're very smart for someone your age—and quite attractive. So why don't we just drop all the games so I can fuck you?" Xander, in shock, simply nodded in the near dark. She gently squeezed his cock for good measure and sat up. "Good. I'm going to find the toilet," she said as she removed her glasses and put them on the night-stand. "If you need to pee or wash up, you'd better do it soon." She stood up and stripped naked, throwing her clothes haphazardly across his floor. He only saw her figure as she exited his dark room and walked into the lighted portion of the apartment. When her dark back contrasted with the brightness, he saw she her cinched waist and wide hips but as her body became bathed in the light several steps farther, he saw a drooping ass and, when she turned right down the hallway, large slightly sagging breasts reminiscent of someone her age. Suddenly an idea came to him and he frantically reached into his tightened jean pocket for his cell phone, dialed Anna's number, and pressed the SPEAKER button. After two rings she answered in a poor speaker quality voice. "Hey babe, what's up?" "Stephanie's in my place naked right now!" he said in a loud hush. "What! You bastard! I can't believe you're winning with a lesbian!" "I haven't won anything yet but she's washing up, she's naked, and she's not a lesbian. Listen, I have you on speaker. Get someplace quiet and don't make any noise! I'll leave my phone by the bed." Anna quickly ciphered his plan and locked her own door but she didn't dare tell him she was ready for fear that Stephanie was already within earshot. Xander inserted his phone into the charger on his night stand. This served the dual purpose of keeping it in plain sight for sound clarity and to account for the bright red light which would only otherwise stay lit if the phone was in use. Stephanie re-entered, closed the door behind her, and casually straddled her legs on either side of the sitting student, putting his hands within grasp of her soft but aged ass and his mouth at the nipples of her gravid breasts. His hands locked above her ass as he pushed her large tits against his face, her fingers combing through his hair before latching onto his head. She gently swayed her body arrhythmically while Xander gently inhaled her scent and felt her slow but powerful heartbeat. He sighed contentedly in her tender embrace as his hands separated and moved migrated to the front and the ample breasts that nearly smothered his ears. The moment his hands touched them however Stephanie forcefully clenched her own enmeshed hands and pulled his hair back, dropping his jaw. "Ow!" he screamed as he reached for her hands to keep her from pulling his hair out. "Why are you doing that!?" He asked meekly. He did not want to risk upsetting her and either get bad grades or not fuck her and lose his competition with Anna. She looked directly into his moist eyes with indifference. "You see Xander, you don't touch my boobs unless I tell you to. And did I tell you to touch them?" "But you didn't tell me not..." She clenched her fists again when he answered. His hands tried vainly to force hers flat against his skull and relieve pressure. Ten seconds later she stopped but held firm. "Maybe you didn't hear me well enough. I didn't tell you to touch my tits. Did you hear me to tell you to touch my tits?" she pouted as she looked down, a glint of anger in her dilated pupils. His eyes shifted side to side, seeking an answer from both sides of his brain, but this only angered her further and she pulled again. This time was less painful but he wondered if it was because she did not pull as hard or he was simply becoming used to it. "Ow-ow-ow-ow-ow-ow-ow..." he sputtered. "But you were so forward I thought..." she pulled harder than ever. Not once did he consider utilizing his free legs to repel against her mounted nakedness and hopefully free him. He pressed his chin farther down his breast so his eyes looked away. "You're not stupid, Xander. Every time you use that word I pull. Just stop fuckin' saying it and you won't get hurt..." she patronized. "Do you know what word that is?" He struggled to recall his pre-pain words but her hands loomed above him and drew fearful sweat that wetted his collar. "Be very careful not to start with the word or you'll get it again..." she cautioned. "Um...the word 'but'?" he finally answered, steeling himself for more pain. "Very good!" she reassured him like a small child. He relaxed when she released his hair and sidled over, allowing him to look up again. "Sit at the foot of the bed," she looked behind her. He walked on all fours, her unblinking brown eyes upon him. Always looking forward, her downward aimed head turned, following her student's humble progress. Xander had never seen such a trancelike face following such malicious and contemptible abuse. His scalp tingled as if he had given his hair a thorough rubbing with a sheet of Velcro. Satisfied with his place, she finally lied down onto the bed, her back upon the pillow and her right leg extended to Xander who waited patiently at the foot of the bed. "Be a dear and rub my feet will ya..." she seemed to ask but he knew by now that it was not a request. He was quite relieved however since this was far tamer than what preceded it and, since he often did this for Anna, he had a technique which seemed to please her well enough and might do the same for his dominating guest. He positioned himself comfortably and began to rub and squeeze her large—at least for a woman—feet. They received his near full sensory attention with the exception of his ears which desperately searched for aural cues to guide his routine and, if she should show displeasure, let him change techniques and start again. Teaching Assistants Her feet smelled about as good as feet can so he slouched closer to bring more pressure to bear until contented coos escaped grinning mouth. Her periodically looked to her face, gladdened every time he saw her smile and closed eyelids. "Ok, that's enough," she finally said after twenty minutes. But by that time Xander had forgotten her lesson on compliance and continued to massage her feet for good measure. He was swiftly reminded of his place when her foot kicked out of his massage and struck his open jaw. "I said stop!" He cried painfully as his teeth dug into his tongue. He instinctively clenched his mouth with his hands as if the pressure would do him some good, but it only seemed to squeeze out tears. "Oh quit your sobbing!" she commanded as blood passed through his fingers and onto his sheets. She looked at the drops with disinterest. "Fine. Go to the bathroom and fix that." With her permission, he sprinted out and into the bathroom. Xander's face was flushed red and his eyes watered but stopped crying He removed his hands from his face and was relieved to find just how little blood there was despite the pain. After rinsing his hands under cold water from the faucet, he cupped them to hold the liquid and brought it to his mouth where he slurped, swished it for several seconds, then spat out a red tinted cocktail. He repeated this several more times, each time the water becoming a lighter shade of pink, until it was perfectly clear again, and his dangling hair was wet at the tips. Hunched over the sink, he looked into the mirror. He remembered he had the authority to boot her out and for a moment he wondered if he should continue with Stephanie; the moment passed however when he told himself she simply liked to be dominant and his bleeding tongue was merely an accident of overzealousness. There was nothing wrong with passion--he got carried away sometimes, too. "Xander, I'm waiting!" she reminded him. He turned off the bathroom lights and walked back into his bedroom, shutting the door. "Turn the light on," she ordered as she sat up from the bed. He complied and saw her body in total clarity. It was slightly wrinkled, a bit more than he would expect for someone not even forty, and dotted with many small light freckles as if from over tanning. It was not an unbeautiful sight but merely one of the many possible imperfections for anyone. "Strip," she casually instructed as her hand flicked at him. When he hesitated, she kept her gaze but turned her head down expectantly. He quickly complied and started to hastily remove his clothes. "Slowly..." she stressed. He complied but hesitated again when he came to his boxers. His cock raged and pushed against them like a pup tent. She gestured impatiently for him to take his boxers off and he did so, his cock bobbing. Free from its restriction but with this nakedness revealed to a near stranger, the two circumstances worked against him and his cock remained in a semi-erect four inches firmly pointing downwards. She chuckled a bit to herself. "It's not completely hard yet," he offered as a reasonable excuse. "Oh I'm sure it's not," she laughed even more, diminishing his erection further. "I'm glad it's not hard." With that she came off the bed and reached into her backpack. She pulled out a small hollow device resembling a plantain but slightly larger and made of clear plastic. She came to him and knelt before his penis as she held the cylinder up to it. Though nervous, he dared not shuffle away from her. "What's that?" he asked nervously. "It's a chastity belt. It keeps you from masturbating. What I do is," she began as she inserted his dick into it. "...place this part around your dick and lock it together with another end past your balls so the only way you can take it off without my say so is to rip 'em off." With familiar ease it was on before he could protest. It was smooth and seamless not unlike an experience where his doctor, while informing him of the importance of checking for a hernia, had already pressed his fingers against the wall of his scrotum and finished the examination before he realized it had taken place. "Why am I wearing one? I thought you wanted to have sex?" "Oh no, you misunderstood. I want to fuck you." This answer did nothing for his question but he dared not ask again. Walking to her backpack, she bent down, exposing her puckered anus and hairy pussy. She removed a blue skirt with large pleats and a pair of fishnet stockings, turned around, and threw them them into his hands. "Put those on..." she simply said as she stood impatiently. He cautiously complied and tried to stretch the stockings up his leg but met resistance from over-stretching enough to let his his toes poke through. "Bunch them up like a sock and roll them," she instructed. He complied and soon the stockings were wrapped tight but comfortably around his legs. He gently rubbed them together and took a few steps, feeling quite natural in them. The tightness convinced his body he was wearing pants yet his hairs felt naked with exposure as he moved his legs through the air. Stepping with his toe first, he walked like he would if he was in his mother's high heels, a childhood pleasure he has long since outgrown and forgotten about. It felt feminine and very sexy. Coming to the mirror, he saw his toned feminine legs and, if they were not so hairy, they would have matched how he felt. Using the mirror for guidance, he cautiously stepped into the skirt, his long wetted hair dangling helplessly past his chin. When it proved resistant to his hips, he forced it to higher to his waist until it gently pinched, giving him a muffin top. Thrilled by the sight of himself, his cock grew against its newfound cage. Never before had he worn ladies clothing but he absolutely loved how his morphed lower half looked even with the useless but still masculine dick between his legs; it was as if from his waist on down he WAS a woman and, with his long blond hair, his top was halfway there. Stephanie saw the gleam in his eyes and walked into him until her soft breasts pressed into his back. Her hands fondled his bound cock and bare chest. "I see you like your clothes," she cooed softly as her mouth grazed his neck and her hands continued to play with his flesh. "Yes," he quaked, his voice throaty with guilty pleasure. He felt wonderful in this strong woman's arms. The pain on his scalp and his tongue vanished and was replaced with the warm satisfaction that his dressing up pleased her enough to keep her with him. "You're a good looking slut, aren't you Alexi?" she continued in a soft drawl. He hesitated briefly but, remembering the potential reprisals, he played along. "Yes..." he said pleasurably. "You're a bad girl. You wanted to fuck me with your cock—you can't do that since sissy sluts don't have cocks, do they?" "No, we don't..." "'No' is right." Her hand migrated up to his throat and her fingers wrapped around it, gripping him before tossing him backward to the bed. "You're not a sissy slut," she strutted closer, "You're just a cross-dressing whore! Look at you!" fiery anger replaced her sensual demeanor as her eyes glowed red. "You look like a fuckin' queen!" "No!" he pleaded with her. "I'm not a queen!" "Yes you fuckin' are don't lie to me! I know when you lie!" "No, no, it's true! I'm a sissy slut! Please believe me!" he continued pathetically, his eyes starting to water. Some of her fire seemed spent but she continued to glare at him suspiciously. "Alright, if you're a slut, where's your cunt?" she argued. He looked hopelessly around his bedroom as if searching for a way to prove that he really was a slut and thus keep her inside his competition with Anna; but strangely another side of him wanted to for a different reason altogether. His eyes lit up when he realized the solution and he turned himself around so his ass faced her, raised his skirt, and showed his asshole to the woman he needed to please. He wiggled it enticingly, his kept package slapping against his thighs. Turning his head, he beamed at the answer and hoped it would satisfy her. "You call that a cunt?" she asked derisively. He nodded. "I bet it hasn't even been fucked yet you sissy fucking slut." Again he nodded, unsure how he could be a slut with a virgin hole, but she liked the answer so that was all that mattered. "Good. Kneel in front'v your bed and stick your pussy up," she commanded. He enthusiastically complied though ignorant of her intentions. Again she went to her backpack but this time pulled out a tube of lubricant and what he vaguely remembered was called a butt plug. She came to his ass and knelt down as she violently pulled the fishnets down his cheeks. He hoped she didn't rip them needlessly. She applied some of the cold gel to his anus and some to her fingers as they gently explored his rectum. Realizing she planned to place the uncomfortable looking plug inside, he struggled to convince his anus to stay open. His effort paid off and within moments she had both fingers pressed against the walls of his colon, shortly followed by the plug which, with some force, rested snugly in his cavity. She wiped her fingers on his carpet. Much to his surprise the plug felt comfortable in his anus...almost as if it was a hole meant to be filled. He forgot to pull his stockings back up so she forcefully did it for him; again he wished she did not ruin his new article of clothing. Stephanie walked to the sole remaining light and turned it off before coming back to bed, lying down, and spreading her legs wide. Her hands came to her pussy and rubbed it enticingly. More than ever, Xander's cock throbbed as he imagined seeing his dick slide in and out her snatch and her soft lips kissing his chest—but well trained already, he simply stood and watched until she told him to come. "Eat me..." she commanded. He walked on all fours to the foot of the bed. And begin he did. Always a gentleman when it came to cunnilingus, he primed the pump and first began with her thighs. She grunted with frustration and again dug her fingers into his hair, dragging his tongue instead to her already dripping pussy. Her juices had already curled the fine dark hairs into locks and his tongue, spreading and mixing the delectable nectar with his saliva, spread it to the rest of underbrush. No shy fold or deep crevice escaped his injured tongue that pressed on despite the pain and, with each slurp and lip smack, he was rewarded with pleasant coos and soft moans. Completely embedded into her muff, he felt his plug slide out ever so slightly. Terrified, he worried it would escape and anger Stephanie enough to make him lose his bet—thankfully it never did. "Yeah, that's it..." she began to speak as his arms wrapped around her thighs. "That's a good slut...suck...suck...suck...lick...lick...suck..." she droned monotonically but with pleasure. "That's a good slut..." Her breathing became quicker and he thought she was near orgasm but, after clenching his hair, arching her back, and nearly screaming at the top of her lungs, when all was said and done, she simply calmed down and rotated her hips clockwise, forcing him to continue and keep pace with her pleasured gyrations. After half an hour his jaw locked shut and his tongue resumed bleeding and dripped onto her pussy and his bed sheets. "I can't go on," he apologized, his voice muffled by a limp tongue and his own hand's pain relieving grasp. Stephanie's breathing slowed but her eyes stayed closed. "My tongue is bleeding again..." he explained just in case she was angry. "That's all right," he was shocked and relived to hear. She sat up, her body glowing in the faint light coming through the blinds. "I came a bunch of times already," she explained. "Besides, it's time I fucked you." His heart lit up and his eyes glowed. He was finally going to fuck the sexy older woman and his dick, still imprisoned and raging more than ever, would be freed! "Slide up the bed but keep your pussy in the air," she commanded and he obeyed without the slightest hesitation. Maybe it was easier to take the belt off from behind. His knowledge of what a butt plug was however did not mean he anticipated what came next. He had only a vague notion it would involve penetration but he assumed sex would come afterwards and he could cum; after all he did for her, he deserved it right? Stephanie went into her backpack one last time and pulled out a thick eight inch strap on. She fastened it around her waist and applied generous amounts of lubricant. He did not see her as she came onto the bed but felt her impression shifting the mattress and especially when she forced his stockings down his ass again. He disliked having his skin exposed like that. It felt wrong somehow that he was less like a woman. She raised his skirt and found the plug struggling to escape its anal hold and his caged cock dangling uselessly between his legs. She delicately pulled the plug out but before his muscles could close his anus, she stuck the strap-on tip in its place and held it there. Xander felt an emptiness in his ass and an overwhelming need to fill it despite the short interval but he dared not demand that from Stephanie whom he greatly feared to displease. Slowly but surely that emptiness was filled beyond the former's coziness as she steadily pegged him with more of her artificial girth. The pain was sumptuous as he felt her dick go deeper and deeper, stuffing his bowels with what only came naturally for someone dressed as he. "Oh you like having your pussy filled, don't you slut?" she asked belligerently as the massive cock came to the hilt inside his asshole. "You know, for a virgin you take it pretty good. You're not a whore lying to me now, are you?" "No, this is my first time. I'm a slut! I love your cock please don't stop!" he shouted back to her as he wriggled his hips, begging for more. "So now you want it?" "I've always wanted it! Please don't stop, I need your cock inside my pussy! Fuck my fucking cunt forever please!" He had to keep her going. The pleasure was immeasurable as every nerve in his colon stretched around her cock, aching for stimulation. "That's what I wanted to hear," she said. His eyes rolled to the back of his head as she pulled backwards, reverting his bowels to their former unnaturally unfilled size and awaited further penetration which it soon received in greater frequency. His hands clenched the sheets and her hips pushed against his ass as she pumped and pressed onto his prostate until pre-cum dripped upon the bed. At times it hurt but he knew that was the price to fill him up as he desperately wanted. She called him "sissy" and "slut" and other names. But those were merely because he was playing a part in a larger sexual game that won him a bet. Then something unexpected started to happen. "I think I'm gonna cum!" he yelled back as his balls began to slowly quake. "Great, the perfect sissy slut can cum just from intercourse—I didn't even have to touch your little clitty!" she exclaimed as she picked up her paces. "Tell me before you do..." she instructed. An hour of love and frustration had centered entirely at his balls; they endured massage, cunnilingus, abuse, and now ass fucking but finally, as his dick pulsated against its restraint, he was going to come on his bed without anyone or anything else touching it. Like always, it started in his balls and raced through but unlike other times, his fairly soft penis seemed to shudder with its arrival as the first powerful spurt came to the tingling tip. "Now!" he exclaimed when it exited his semi-erect cock and dolloped hard onto his sheets. As three more equally large loads emptied his frustrated balls, he felt something gooey strike the walls of his bowels with each new sputter of her thrust. "What's that?" his voice trembled. "Cum you slut. I bought it in a sex shop." He quickly realized she meant fake cum when she squeezed the second load from a reservoir. He readily embraced the thought of being filled with clean cum without a man involved. After all, he wasn't gay. "Oh yeah, fill me up, give me all your cum!" he played up the part. She squirted enough for five sex deprived men, smothering his bowels. He sighed contentedly and Stephanie, keeping her surrogate dick inside, guided him to his side so they lied together in a spooning position. He faced the night stand that held his phone and a possibly masturbating Anna on the other end. "That was wonderful," he said dreamily. "I'll make a good sissy out of you yet, slut. Soon that cum in your cunt won't be fake and you'll become a slave to it. I can tell," she said as she swayed her hips slightly to move the fake cock around inside him. He did not have an answer for her but he knew her to be wrong. He was not gay, he was merely dressed like a woman and getting fucked by one—still straight sex. While it was not normal per se, it certainly did not make him gay or wish to engage in dangerous sexual practices. But otherwise too pleased, he did not try to refute her and he simply reached for his phone and ended the call. "What was that?" she asked curiously amidst the cell's shutting down music. He had planned for such a question. "I'm setting it to vibrate for the night," he replied to her satisfaction and she snuggled her hips closer to his so he became even more filled with her cock. Her arms lovingly wrapped around his waist and her nose rested on his neck, inhaling his apple scented conditioner. They fell asleep together, a smile on both their faces. It was only natural. * [[The compilation "Lesbian Pulp Fiction" is an actual book by author Katherine V. Forrest. This story is based on true happenings. Only names, places, and some events have been changed. Don't forget to vote and constructive criticism is welcome. Chapter two, Anna's portion in the bet, is next in the BDSM category.]]