1 comments/ 89016 views/ 8 favorites Past Due By: DaphneX Holding the key firmly, I place my gloved hand on the ignition switch. Before turning it I glance at the pile of books on the passenger seat beside me. My breath crystallizes in the chilly air as I count the titles. If I'm missing one, that would be enough to allow myself to get out of this car, out of this weather, and into my warm apartment, my warm bed. But they were all there, and I had reserved the study room at the undergraduate library for this very purpose—to make myself work, get this paper finished. It was due a week ago. Of course I didn't have chains—very few on this campus were prepared for the storms we've been having. But even as my car swerves and slides on patches of ice, I know I couldn't have walked. My bones ache even with the heat radiating from the vents, from the coils in the drivers seat that hold me. The snow has stopped falling, and the roads are relatively clear. The library is only a couple miles away. I manage to smuggle in a coffee I had ordered from the café next door. Hardly anyone is around at this early hour on a Saturday, though finals would be starting in a few days. But it always seems like whoever was at the front desk managed to confiscate any type of food or beverage immediately. I glance over the main catalog terminals—a few scattered students pecking at keyboards. I wait for the elevator patiently, my left hand holding the forbidden cup of coffee inside my coat. The elevator cables creak as I stare at the numbers lighting up. I get out on 3 and head for my designated satellite room. I always choose the eastern-most corner room, as it affords the best view and is relatively removed from the standard library bustle. Though I did notice that another study session was scheduled for the adjacent room within my allotted time. Before entering, I sign my name on the sheet beside the door, indicating it was taken. I leave the door open, as there are books I'll be needing in addition to those I had brought. This room always feels like home to me—its warm pergo flooring, rectangular cherry wood table with sturdy matching chairs, the familiar Asian area rug. Two brown leather armchairs sit directly in front of the north window, slightly offset and postured to accommodate the small wooden table between them. The dry erase board is mounted on the wall opposite these sitting chairs, so every seat in the room could face it. A screen could be pulled down for Powerpoint presentations or overhead projections. I turn on the track lighting, remove my coat, and drape it over a chair in which I set my weathered backpack. Coffee in one hand, I unzip the front pouch and fumble around for a pen. After flipping through a few pages from my various books, I scribble a few quotes on the board. Pleased with my preparation, I sit in one of the rigid wood chairs to begin my notes. I tap the pen nervously against my notebook, glancing at my blank page, at the scribbled wisdom of others I had written a few feet away. Sliding the chair away, I stand and take a sip of my coffee. The sparkle from the beveled glass of the window catches my eye—it has begun to snow again. I stand there, gazing at the falling white, the few small, animated frames of cars and people foraging through it. She should still be sleeping now, I think to myself. I can almost see her—looking so small in her queen-size bed, covered with blankets, surrounded by pillows. She's adorable when she sleeps; she really is. Not like some people who lie there on their backs with their mouths open, a trail of drool running down the side. No…she curls up and tucks her head slightly, something of a smile to her lips. Like a baby. We met a couple years ago…here. She's going for her J.D., and I for another B.A. The irony is that she is younger, though I don't think it matters much. We're polar opposites in so many ways; but in some of the right ways, it just works. Things didn't become romantic until recently. We had been at a dinner party with a few of her peers. It was an uncomfortable setting for me—everyone just seemed so lofty, so pseudo-intellectual. Though I don't usually drink wine, it was all I could do to minimize my part in the conversation, to avoid laughing at what the topic was. I still don't know. After dinner we all played Pictionary, and she and I won with my stick figure drawing of Lady Godiva. We laughed and I told her I loved her. I don't think anyone else heard, but she smiled and looked away and left the room. She came back in what seemed like an hour later, our coats in hand, and saved me from an awkward conversation with a guy who resembled a basset hound. Again, no idea what the topic was. We walked out to the car in relative silence, only the crunching of the snow beneath our feat was audible. She had my keys, had taken them from my coat pocket. Not that she hadn't been drinking, but she had consumed considerably less than I had. We got in the car, she turned the ignition, and then she just sat there a minute, looking straight ahead. Her light blue knit beanie offset her dark hair and skin so beautifully. I wasn't sure what was going on. If I had done something wrong, if she was angry… 'I don't usually drink wine,' I said. She closed her eyes then turned and looked at me intensely. 'What you said to me in there…' I paused. 'Yeah, well…' I said, avoiding her eyes. 'Did you mean that?' she interrupted me softly. And I didn't respond with words. I just looked at her, into those brown eyes that I'd known and come to genuinely love. Those eyes that have mocked me, have challenged me, have comforted me. Her face softened, and I glanced at her lips, looking back to her eyes. She held my gaze, and I kissed her. While the car was warming up, surrounded by the cold air from the exhaust, I placed my gloved hands on her face and kissed her. That night, she stayed with me. And things were new again. I remembered feeling her against me…how I felt so safe and yet so afraid. Not like with anyone else. I remember how she… I jump at the sound of a sudden knock at the door. Turning away from the window I look over at the frazzled student that is peering into the room. 'Sorry…uh…are you in my econ class?' he asks. 'No, I think that group is meeting next door. Check the schedule for the time.' He leaves and I glance at my watch. Fuck…I've been here over an hour. I look over at my blank page and scattered books. I take a sip of my coffee, which is now cold. Shaking my head, I venture down to the second floor to get the other titles I'll need. There are more people around now, though it isn't exactly crowded. Mostly people scattered in little cubicles, skimming titles in the aisles in that strange sideways stance. I make my way about a third down the length of the far wall, perusing the titles of various Spanish novellas and poetry. Octavio Paz...is not here. I placed my left hand at the back of my neck, rubbing into my skin. Taking out Neruda's Book of Questions, I flip through it unconvincingly. I reshelve it, despite the annoyed second glance of a library assistant. He points to the 'Please do not reshelve books' sign, giving me a condescending look. Is this really such a big issue? So I stand in front of the shelves with a copy of Lorca's Selected Poems when I feel a finger trail along my neck, and down over my shoulder. I look to see her, smiling in her Burberry trenchcoat. Below I can see she is wearing sweats and her favorite sneakers. 'So sophisticated,' I say, smiling at her. I put the book down. She holds up the Paz book. 'Looking for this?' she asks, holding it out. I frown, then give a slight sneer, advancing toward her. She retreats, looking around her, a mischievous grin on her face. Her short hair is unkempt, though it looks like she put forth a slight effort to control it. As ever, she looks adorable. 'I need that,' I say in a hushed whisper, smiling at her. 'Well come and get it, then,' she says with a raise of an eyebrow. As she dashes off, I stand there in mock irritation. I really need to get this paper done. I start to walk in the direction in which she went, when I hear a clamor a few aisles away. Walking by, I see her helping up what appears to be the same library assistant who silently rebuked me a few minutes ago. He's barely containing his voice in a whisper, telling her she shouldn't be running in the library, that she could have really hurt someone, etc. She's apologizing repeatedly, sincerely. She hands him his books that had toppled over, then sees me watching her. She grins and walks off toward the chairs in the corner. I stifle a giggle and follow her. When I arrive at the chairs, she isn't there. A jock struggling with what appears to be a copy of The Great Gatsby eyes me annoyingly as I stand there in confusion. Suddenly I am pulled back and to the right, into another aisle. She slides her arms along my waist, pulling me close to her. I can smell her perfume…that fresh baby scent she uses, that is so unique to her. Our lips are centimeters apart, and I glance around us. 'Where's my book?' I ask, smiling. 'Good morning to you too,' she says, noticeably irritated. I slip my hands underneath her coat, along her waist. Her t-shirt is soft and worn, and I can feel the warmth of her body through it. I push her gently against the shelf, kissing her fully on the mouth. I smile, tasting vanilla lip balm. My hands move up over her shirt, caressing over her breasts and around to her back. As our tongues mesh, my fingers move down her spine to… I playfully pull the book from the waistband of her sweats, where half of it was tucked in. 'I win,' I say with a smirk, still holding her waist with my left hand. 'Not yet, you don't,' she says, running her fingers over my sweater, between my breasts. She snatches the book from me with her free hand. I stand there, shocked and excited by her behavior. My heart races and I smile nervously. Her fingertip reaches my mouth, and I kiss it gently. Her hand caresses my face, as she smiles and saunters away. Naturally, I follow. She enters the stairwell, and immediately jams the door with the book once we are inside. Pushing me against the wall, she pulls up my sweater, unfastening my bra and releasing my breasts. 'What if someone comes….' I start to ask. 'Oh, there will definitely be a lot of coming,' she smiles. I feel the soft warmth of her tongue on my nipples, as my back is pushed against the cold wall. Her hands are squeezing my breasts, kneading the flesh passionately. I find it harder to stifle my moans as she begins sucking on my nipples, teasing them with her lips. I can feel them harden as she toys with them. I feel her pushing my breasts together. Looking down, I see her flicking her tongue intermittently across and around my hard nipples. I'm getting so wet just feeling her, watching her, seeing this hidden side to her. An echo of footsteps on the stairs puts a sudden stop to the excitement. I smooth down my sweater, she grabs the book and we walk back onto the third floor. We enter the elevator and she presses 5. When the doors close, she's on me again. Kissing me hard as she slams me against the wall, her hand now between my legs. Kissing me, I hear her saying something about how incredibly wet I am. The ding of the elevator breaks us apart again. She hurriedly dashes out before me, past a rather stalwart looking professor. I walk out slowly, glancing around for her. I see the tail of her coat disappear down an aisle and I follow, intrigued and amazed by this adventure. At the end of the aisle, I look to my right and see her sitting on a small leather sofa in the corner. It isn't an open area, but certainly accessible to anyone on the floor. I approach her and immediately she begins unbuttoning my jeans, pulling me down beside her. She silences my paranoid protests with a hard kiss and a swift thrust of her hand into my panties. Her hand cups my pussy, slowly rubbing her palm against me as she kisses me harder. At this point I don't even care about getting caught. I'm too excited to stop. I feel a finger enter me, and her tongue plunges into my mouth harder. Steadily she fucks me with her hand, my jeans noticeably getting in the way. I look around me, my senses heightened by the smell of the parchment, the tall shelves that surround us, those colorful bindings all arranged in perfect order. Just as I am about to cum, we hear the ding of the elevator. I let out a groan of frustration as she sighs, almost apologetically removing her hand. We get up once again, and this time I grab her hand, leading her into the bathroom. We walk by the new arrival, a student who doesn't even notice our presence as he studies a sheet of scribbled index numbers. We both enter the bathroom in a frenzy. She once again bars the door with the book. I have my jeans halfway to my knees when she turns to face me. Pulling up my sweater, she tosses it aside to a chair near the door. 'Up on the counter, by the sink,' she says. She clumsily removes my shoes, pulling my jeans down and off. Onto the same chair she tosses them. Breathing hard, she pushes my feet up onto the counter, my back pushed hard against the cold mirror. My nipples are hard again, out of excitement and the cold shock of the glass. She leans in slower this time, though still quite deliberate. She resumes kissing my breasts, teasing my nipples. I let out soft moans, closing my eyes, feeling her soft hair brush against my skin. I feel her fingers toying with my panties, which are surprisingly still on. Another moment and I feel it inside me, her deep and thrusting strokes. I can feel and hear how wet I am with the movement of her hand. She pulls my panties further aside, partially tearing them, inserting another finger. I moan loudly with this addition, feeling the sweet tightness it brings. She slows down, calming in her movements, in her kisses. Her thumb finds my clit, gently tapping it, rubbing over and around it. I moan into her mouth, her fingers twisting and curling deeper into my pussy. She runs her other hand up the back of my neck, kissing me hard as I cum. Her fingers stop moving, and remain inside me, feeling the pulsing of my orgasm, my juices running all over her hand. As it subsides, she kisses me softly—my lips, neck, breasts. My panties are soaked, her fingers wet. She raises a finger to my lips, smiling. But the bathroom door suddenly jostles, and we see the book slip, about to give way. 'Is someone in there?' says a woman's voice on the other side of the door. 'Just a minute,' I say, hastily grabbing my clothes and getting dressed. 'I'm changing my clothes.' She is washing her hands and gives me a look of mock disapproval. 'What?' I whisper. 'I'm getting dressed!' I go to remove the book from the door, and a middle-aged woman enters. She appears to be an employee of the university, though I'm not sure of her position. Eyeing me over suspiciously, she then glances into the mirror, where she sees clean hands applying vanilla lip balm to the lips that had been kissing my breasts less than three minutes ago. She smiles at the woman. The woman smirks, sneering at the both of us before entering a stall. Trenchcoat draped around her arm, she approaches the door where I am standing, kisses my cheek, and walks out. Out on the floor she is suddenly relaxed. I walk beside her, still recovering from the orgasm I just experienced. We enter the elevator, and she pushes the button for the ground floor. 'What are you doing?' I ask. She hands me the book. 'You can go read now. I just thought you'd like a study break.' She winks at me. I quickly push 3 before the elevator has a chance to descend any further. She looks at me, somewhat bewildered. I smile and the elevator opens. Taking her hand gently, I lead her out of the elevator. She follows me through the main room, now crowded with students and staff alike. We pass by the economics study group in the room next to mine. All the satellite rooms appear to be full. As we approach the room, a squeaky student from next door approaches. 'Are you the only ones in here?' he asks begrudgingly. 'I've booked the room until 2pm. I'll be out by then.' He leaves, and I can hear him say something curt to the class next door. My things are still on the table, just as I had left them. We walk in and I close the door. The light from the window is minimal, but I leave the track lights off. I take her coat from her, draping it over a nearby chair. She stands, looking at the dry erase board, guessing who said which quotes. I don't answer her, as I rearrange the armchairs, facing one another, perpendicular to the window. 'Oh, it's snowing again!' she says, advancing toward the window. 'Have a seat,' I say, patting the back of the armchair facing the window. 'Why don't we go back to your place for a while,' she suggests. I take her hands gently and guide her to the chair. She sits and I sit across from her. I remove my shoes and put my feet onto her chair. Picking up the Paz book she had placed onto the table, I offer it to her. She looks at me questioningly. 'Won't you read to me?' I turn on a desk lamp beside her. Its gold fixture and green glass shade give the room a cozy feel. She smiles sweetly, and I open the book to the appropriate poem. She puts her legs onto my chair, against mine, and begins to read. I close my eyes, listening to her voice formulate such beautiful words. As she reads on, I run my hands over her feet, along her calves, though still over her sweats. Her voice changes as I move up higher. And I am still listening, though not as intently for the poetry itself, as for the emotion of her voice, the reaction of my touch. I push my chair back slightly, gently holding her legs so they don't fall. My hands begin to pull at her sweats, my ears listening for any sign of protest. She is still reading, yet she complies with my actions. Raising her ass off the chair slightly, I am able to remove her sweats and panties in a single move. Immediately I begin kissing her thighs, her legs naturally parting for me. I stop briefly, slipping my head under her knees, between her legs. Cradling her outer thighs with my hands, I feel her calves and feet rest over my shoulders, down my back. Her voice takes on a more breathy quality as I kiss her inner thighs, my tongue licking playfully at her soft, warm skin. The heat of her pussy is intoxicating; I've longed to taste her. She lets out a soft moan as my tongue traces her pussy lips, gently working its way inside her. Once inside, I rest my mouth against her pussy, my tongue indulging in the pleasure of her soft, wet folds. I listen to her words, now strained slightly, as I fuck her steadily with my tongue. I curve my left hand over her thigh to rub her clit with my thumb. Removing my tongue for a moment, I flick it over her clit repeatedly, flogging it as it hardens and becomes more and more sensitive. She has stopped reading at this point, and now has her hands on my head, leaning back against the chair with her eyes closed, mouth agape and moaning. My eyes delight in watching her struggle to achieve climax, my tongue teasing her, not quite letting her go over the edge just yet. I enter her again with my tongue, driving harder into her, curling and twisting at just the right spots. My mouth is covered with her pussy, her juices running everywhere. Moving my face side to side, my tongue thrashes inside her, her moans subsequently becoming louder. My lips suck her pussy gently as my tongue rocks steadily into her now. I can feel her tighten around me, her hips slowly grinding into my face. I reach for her hand, feeling her squeeze it tightly as she cums hard into my mouth, against my face. My tongue remains inside her, feeling the pulsing of her pussy. I linger there, indulging in the sweet salty taste. As her orgasm subsides, I kiss her thighs, still feeling her breathing hard. I place my head on her lap as she caresses my cheek. Past Due It's another lazy Sunday morning, the best kind. I have nothing to do, and all day to do it. My boyfriend Jared has been out of the house since early this morning, so I have the whole place to myself. I lie naked in bed on top of the bedspread, enjoying the crisp fall breeze blowing through the open window and over my body. Coffee is brewing in the kitchen and the scent of freshly ground beans permeates the house. My mind wanders, considering how I can amuse myself today. Suddenly I hear a loud knock on the door. Startled, I jump out of bed. Who the hell? I think. I grab my short green satin robe and throw it on, quickly tying the belt in a loose bow. The robe covers all my assets, but only just barely. As I make my way to the door, I hear another impatient knock. I peek out of the peephole and see a man about my age. I take brief note that he's very cute, but quickly dismiss the thought. I've seen him around, I think, but I can't quite place him. He smiles charmingly, knowing I'm probably peeping at him before I open the door. I open the door just a couple inches, while hiding my barely covered body behind the door. "Yes? Can I help you?" "Yeah, I'm Mike Smith." Seeing no reaction from my face, he continues, "I'm your paper delivery man. We need to talk." He continues smiling in an almost unsettling way as I frantically search my brain for what he would want from me. I remember him vaguely. I had seen him in the neighborhood, but I never really paid attention to how my paper got to my doorstep, as far as I knew it was magic. "Ummm...Mike, right, yeah. What can I do for you? I'm not exactly prepared for company." I stare into his face, trying to imagine what all this was about, but his body language gives no clues. "We might want to talk inside," he says matter of factly. He leans toward me and adds in a quiet voice, "Its about your bill." I look toward the street to see neighbors walking their dog along the sidewalk. I can also see my snoopy next-door neighbor, Hilda, staring right at us. What to do? Make a scene on the doorstep, or just invite him in and discuss it. I unchain the door and invite him in. He looks relatively harmless. He steps inside and sees me in my entirety for the first time. I close the door and turn around to find him looking me up and down. I felt pretty confident that whatever this matter is, I could charm any man in this outfit. His gawking continues, and the silence becomes a little unsettling. Finally I break the silence by clearing my throat. "So tell me, what is all this that's so important on a Sunday morning?" "Well, you see Miss, it's about your bill. I've left you several notices and you're way past due." I try to remember what this is all about. My boyfriend, Jared has told me a hundred times that I'm bad about paying bills, and if he hears about this I'll never hear the end of it from him. "Umm...the bill...let me think." My mind is really a blank on this one. "Didn't I pay that? Yeah, wait...I remember now, I did pay that, I mailed you a check last week." Happy that this whole matter could be resolved, I start to reach for the door to let him out. "Well, yes Miss, I got the check, but you see it bounced." Oh god, my heart sinks. Jared told me if I bounced just one more check he'd be furious. It isn't like we don't have the money, I just never seem to be able to move the money to the right account and balance the checkbooks. "Jeez, I'm really sorry. Ok, hold on, let me write you another check." I start to turn around to get the checkbook and he grabs my elbow to stop me. "Sorry, you can't write a check to pay now, since the other check bounced. And then there's the matter of the late fees, and the check insufficiency charge. You're going to need to pay cash, $64.45." I stand there looking at him, stunned, not even knowing what to say. "Listen, Mike was it? Mike, I don't have cash like that lying around. Can't you just come back tomorrow?" I smile my most charming smile, trying to convey the utmost sincerity. He reads me like a book and ups the ante. "Listen lady, I've written you notices, I've done everything I can to help you out on this one, but if you don't pay me cash right now, I'll be forced to cancel your paper." Just as I consider what he's said, he adds, "Maybe I should just talk to your boyfriend, maybe that would get all this straight." Oh god, I think, my boyfriend can't find this out. He'll be furious. After all the times he's told me over and over that I'm irresponsible with money, this would just be the last straw. He stands looking at my face, reading my panicked expression. He adds with a smarmy look, "If you don't have the cash right now, maybe we can work something out." "Well, I don't have the money here, but this really seems like something we should be able to work out between us. My boyfriend is really busy with his work and all, let's not bother him over something like this." He smiles knowingly, but allows me to continue. "Here, how about you sit on the couch and we can discuss it." He strolls over confidently, and plops on the couch like he owns the place. I sit down facing him, and as his eyes wander I suddenly realize just how short my robe really is! My legs are fully on display, even as I try to cover them up. The silence between us continues as I try desperately to cover up my indecent exposure. "Is that coffee I smell?" He asks, still grinning in that smug way. "Sure...I mean, yeah...I just made some. You want some?" He slowly nods, his eyes focusing on my cleavage. "What'll you have in it, Mike?" "How about cream and sugar," he replies, his eyes never leaving my body. This man was anything but subtle. As I stand to go to the kitchen, he adds, "And how about you lose the robe." I spin around stunned. What? He can't be serious. "Listen, Mike, I don't know who you think you are coming in here and making threats, but this is my house and maybe you should just leave. Coffee is one thing, but who do you think you are?!?" My voice quivers, despite my attempts to sound authoritative. Completely unphased by my attempt to appear enraged, he lays his cards on the table. "OK, here's the deal sweetie. You owe me money. I know you have problems paying your bills on time, word gets around, and I know the water delivery guy. I also heard rumors that you and your boyfriend argue over your inability to pay bills on time." Damn that nosey neighbor, Hilda. Looking straight at me, he continues on, "So how about we cut through the bullshit here, and you just do exactly as I say, so I don't have to go to your boyfriend with this whole nasty business." He has me. Worse yet, he knows he has me. Resigned to the idea that I have no choice, I look at him with my last weapon, my pout. Pouting sincerely, I hope he will be merciful. "Ok, off with the robe and get me some coffee. Just like I like it, really sweet." Still slightly stunned, I slowly peel off my robe, his eyes burning into my body. My breasts stick out with my nipples hardened from the cool air. My pussy is on display without even pubic hair to cover me, since my boyfriend likes me to be shaved all the time. It isn't that I'm not proud of my body, I am, but I hate being forced to do this, and he knows it. I walk toward the kitchen quickly, certain that his eyes were on my ass with each step I take. I fix up the coffee, my mind reeling. Just what does he think I'll do for a stupid newspaper bill? Stirring in the sugar, I think about the possibilities. He is really cute, under different circumstances...my mind begins to wander, and I can feel the beginning of a tingle in my pussy. "Hey, did you get lost in there? Where's the coffee?" he shouts from the living room, breaking me out of my brief daydream. I trot out with the coffee, careful not to spill it, and lean over, handing him the cup. He watches as my breasts jiggle and push together as I hand it to him. I stand up, watching him take a sip. He slurps some loudly, and smiles his approval as his eyes again begin to wander over my body. "Have a seat there, honey, and let's talk about what you can do for me." I sit at the other end of the couch, my knees together, my arms crossed over my breasts in a false sense of modesty. "Oh come now," he says in an almost charming way, "Come over here, I won't bite." I sigh, realizing once and for all, I have no choice but to do whatever he wants. I sit next to him, close enough to feel the heat from his clothed body and smell his fresh manly smell, but not touching him. "No suggestions on what you can do for me?" he asks, almost rhetorically. Slowly, I nod no, knowing that soon enough he'll be telling me what he wanted. He continues to sip his coffee, staring at me. He doesn't even try to act decent, as he stares directly at my breasts and my lap, with my shaved mound peeking up over my thighs. He slowly, agonizingly continues sipping that coffee, and my nerves get closer and closer to frazzled. Finally, after an eternity, he takes the last sip of coffee and puts the cup on the coffee table. I stare, thinking.... well, at least he used a coaster. He looks up into my eyes, and says matter-of-factly, "I think you need to suck my cock." My eyes widen, but I am somewhat prepared for this. Actually, I'm good at sucking cock, this will be easy, I think, I'll suck him, get him off quickly, and be done with all this. The quicker I finish, the less chance Jared will find out, and then this whole matter will be behind me. He leans back on the couch, spreading his legs. I look at him, almost expecting more instructions, before he says in a forceful voice, "Get over here and get those lips on my cock." I jump off the couch, and quickly kneel between his legs. I can't even look in his eyes, I feel so humiliated. I quickly, skillfully, begin to undo his pants and tug down the zipper. He lifts his hips so I can ease his shorts down over his semi-hard cock. I pull his pants and boxers from his ankles, and glance up into his eyes. He's smiling, loving every minute of this. OK, I think taking a deep breath, all I have to do is get him off, and I'm home free. I reach out and hold his cock in my hand, then begin pumping it up and down a little, feeling it getting bigger already. He has a nice cock, I think, and then realize, how insane that I find anything about this nice. I lick the head and he moans quietly. I get the head wetter and begin pumping his cock up and down with my hand, feeling it slick in my fingers. He sees what I'm doing, and barks out another instruction, "No hands." Great, no hands. OK, I can do this, I think. I put my hands on his thighs and reach down with my lips, grasping the head between them. I slowly slide his cock into my warm mouth, and he groans again. I glide his cock about half way into my mouth, in and out. This would be enough to get most any man off, I think. "Yeah, you give good head. Yeah, suck it hard. Lick my balls." His cock slips from my lips as my tongue delves down to his balls, licking them gently up and over. I lick straight up the shaft of his cock to the head and again take his cock into my mouth. By now his cock is hard, and so hot in my mouth. I can feel him throbbing against my tongue as I slide my lips quickly up and down. He knows I'm trying to rush it and make him cum quickly. He reaches his hands down and not too gently takes my hair in his hands. He holds my head and started pulling me slower and much deeper onto his cock, so he can control the pace. His cock is almost too deep in my mouth, but he mercifully goes just a fraction of an inch short of gagging me. He fucks my mouth for minutes that seemed longer, and the realization that I am being completely used starts to dawn on me. I can feel my nipples hard and starting to ache. I can even feel my pussy start to leak on my legs folded under me. Oh god please don't let him find out how much this is exciting me. I can't believe my body would betray me like this. If he finds out how wet I am, it would be the final humiliation. His cock is so hard now, and I begin to steel myself for him to cum in my mouth. I get ready, shut my eyes tight, promising myself I won't gag when the first rope of cum hits the back of my throat. I hear him laugh, and open my eyes. I look up at him, my mouth full of cock, and watch him smiling at me. With his hands in my hair, he pulls my lips off his cock, and the head falls out with a plop. "OK, enough of that. I have to admit, you're a helluva cocksucker though." I just stare at him thinking, what next? Before I have time to guess, he commands, "On your knees. I want to get a closer look at that ass of yours." I turn around slowly, trying to imagine how I can hide how aroused I am. I get on all fours on the carpeted floor, my ass facing in his direction. From behind me I can hear him getting completely undressed, his clothes slowly piling up beside me. As I squeeze my legs together, I hope he can't see how slick I am, or smell my excitement. He gets on his knees behind me and reaches out both hands to my ass. I nearly jump, feeling his hands roughly running over my cheeks. "Oh yeah, this is a great ass." One of his hands runs up to the small of my back and pushes down, directing me onto my elbows with my ass up in the air. He continues fondling my ass cheeks, his hard cock occasionally slapping against the back of my thigh. I feel his knees push between mine, forcing me to spread my legs wide. I can only imagine how this must look to him, I'm sure he can see everything, including how excited I am. Just as I almost start to enjoy his hands caressing me, out of nowhere he smacks me hard on the ass. I jump up and yelp, "Owww!" I start to reach my hand back to rub the smacked spot, and he chides me, "You know better than that. On your elbows." He starts smacking me in earnest now, between long periods of fondling my ass cheeks. I can feel the fire on my bottom, and even as I wish it isn't true, I can feel even more pussy juice running out onto my thigh. "This spanking is so you'll remember how important paying bills on time is," he says, laughing. "But more importantly, this is a spanking because your bottom is so spankable, I can't help myself." He stops spanking, and continues rubbing, from the backs of my thighs, and his fingers delving just between my ass cheeks. Uncontrollably, I start pushing my thighs back toward his hands, loving the feeling of his caresses. Without warning I feel two of his fingers invade my pussy, deep and quick. I jump again, startled. "You're enjoying this," he laughs. "I can't believe you're enjoying this. You like getting your mouth fucked and getting your ass spanked." I don't even reply, since there's nothing I can say to refute it. His fingers start pumping in and out of me roughly. He continues, "God your pussy is so tight and wet, your boyfriend is a lucky man." I moan in response, pushing my hips back toward his fingers. God help me, this is amazing. I can hear his fingers squishing inside me, as he shoves his fingers in and out. Still bending over with my legs spread wide, he pulls his fingers from my pussy and runs the juices down toward my clit. When he touches my clit it's like an electric shock that surges through my whole body. Involuntarily I moan. I feel his fingers rub over my clit for a second, then pull back up and along, over my hole and up between my ass cheeks. He dips his fingers back in over and over, sliding my juices up along my crack, and then down over my throbbing clit. I feel him positioning his cock at my pussy, holding it right at the entrance without moving it inside. He reaches under me and pinches my clit with his thumb and forefinger, and then bends over, his voice just behind my ear, "Tell me what you want." Too excited to even think straight, I try to move my hips to grind my clit into his hand. He slowly, tantalizingly rubs over my clit, and insistently asks me again, "Tell me what you want." Still I can't bring myself to tell him. I can't admit to him that I am so excited I would fuck anyone, anything at this point. I can't bring myself to tell him that this is the most excited I've been in a long, long time. My pussy aches to be filled and drips with juice. I am so ready to be fucked. He waits a minute for me to answer while still rubbing, then without warning he pulls his hand and cock away. I'm panting, groaning with disappointment, moving my hips and searching for his hands. "Listen, I don't rape women. Tell me what you want, or this is it, I'm leaving." I considered for three long seconds, and then stop thinking. I blurt out, "Yes, this is what I want. I want you to fuck me. Fuck me hard. Take my pussy. Fill me up with that big cock of yours!" And with that, his hands grab my hips and his cock slams into me, my pussy so wet that it slides in with one thrust. We moan together, the feeling of his cock inside feels amazing. Holding my hips tightly he begins slamming in and out of my pussy, and I can feel his balls slapping my pussy over and over. As he fucks me I can feel his hands on my hips, then on my ass. I feel his cock pistoning inside me over and over, not even stopping to let me catch my breath. His thumbs pull my ass cheeks apart, and I am so exposed. He starts to trail a thumb down my crack, still slippery with my juices. Up and down his thumb rubs, and every time he lightly presses over my other tight hole, my pussy spasms hard on his cock. I feel him take his hand from me and hear him loudly slurp saliva onto his thumb. He brings his thumb back to my crack as he continues to slam his cock into me over and over. I feel his thumb on my ass, and then gasp as his thumb gently slides inside me. The feeling is incredible, being filled in both holes, and I am in heaven. Gently he begin to move his thumb in and out in time with his cock moving in and out of my pussy, occasionally pulling more juice up from my pussy to my ass. Unable to stop myself I reach down between my legs and feel for my aching clit. "Oh yeah baby, touch that clit. Make your pussy squeeze my cock, yeah." I start to move my fingers over my clit, knowing I'm really close. He slams even harder into my pussy and then pushes his thick thumb deep inside me as I cum. "Ohhhhh gooooodddddd!!" I feel my pussy grabbing his cock, squeezing over and over. The feeling washes over me as he stops fucking me, and stays very still with his hard cock still inside me. When I come to my senses, still panting, I realize he's stopped, and his cock slides out of my pussy. Hmm...did he cum? He stands up and I turn over. We're still out of breath, and I can see beads of sweat on his forehead. He takes my hand and helps me up, directing me to sit on the couch. I look at his cock, and it's still very hard, dripping with my juices. He hasn't cum yet, I realize. I sit on the couch, him standing in front of me, with his hard cock inches from my lips, and I realize what he wants. I pull him toward my mouth with my hands on his ass, and take his hard cock between my lips. No words need to be spoken. I know what he wants and I can tell he is close. He takes my head in his hands and fucks my mouth deep, grunting with every thrust. "Oh yeah, suck that cock. Suck it hard, I'm gonna cum all over you. Ooooh yeah." His cock throbs on my tongue, as I taste my juices on him. In and out of my tight wet lips, I know he is so close. Suddenly he pulls his cock from my mouth, and holds it in his hand as he shoots his spunk over my chest. Rope after rope of cum shoots out, and I feel it splatter on my chin, my tummy, and my breasts. I stand up from the couch, god that was amazing. I smile, trotting off to the bathroom to tidy up. I use a warm washcloth to clean off the sticky goo. He's gotten it everywhere, even into my hair. Once I am cleaned up, I walk back out to the living room and see him, naked and lying on the couch, eyes closed. Past Due Carefully, I climb onto the couch in front of him, so his body spoons his front against my back, and he wraps his arms around me. One of his arms slides under my head as a pillow, as the other curls up to cup my breast. I feel his breath on my neck, and feel wonderfully happy...glowing even. "You know, you made quite a mess." He chuckles, "You know you loved it." "And did you have to be so rough when you fucked my mouth? You almost gagged me, you know?" He laughs even more, and sleepily replies, "OK, you can't tell me you didn't like that. I've never seen you so wet." God, he knows me so well. I lie still in his arms feeling a little tired myself. "OK, Jared, you got me on that. Hey, how about next time you're the UPS man here to collect on a COD?" He doesn't reply, the poor dear is tired. My mind is already plotting out our next fantasy adventure. I feel Jared's soft snore on my neck. I close my eyes, feeling quite sated and safe in his arms, and snuggle in for a nap. If you enjoyed this story (and even if you didn't), please vote and send me feedback! Thank you. Past Due There is a knock at the door, and the same squeaky kid pokes his head in. 'Are you done with the room yet?' he whines. For all I know, he could only see the back of the chair facing the window. I never even opened my eyes. She looked at her watch. Without turning around, or removing her hand from my cheek, she responded. 'We have five more minutes.'