29 comments/ 68939 views/ 7 favorites The Ladies Man By: patricia51 It was Wednesday night and Josh and Bill were listening to their hero Dan tell them about his latest conquest. All three men were in their early forties. None of them were married. As Dan always said. "Hell, why bother? There's plenty of women out there that want this." He would grab his crotch and grin. The other two always laughed and agreed. Not that they were that successful with women themselves. But somehow Dan always was. There didn't seem to be any woman the 6 foot, rakishly handsome man couldn't pick up. That had included women with boyfriends, engaged women and married women. Just the other night he had picked up a woman right under the nose of her husband and had fucked her in the back room. They couldn't resist him. "Tell us again how you did it that night Dan," Josh urged. "I never thought you could get her. I mean her husband was right here in the bar the whole time." Dan grinned. "That's got nothing to do with it. Hell, it can even make it easier. What I do is provide a contrast. Whoever she might be, she's usually here, even with him in tow, because she wants something a little different. That's what I provide. I treat her with buckets of courtesy. I flatter her, telling her how special she is, how attractive she is. I always try to get her to dance with me. Then I can compliment her on how sexy she is when she moves." "I tell her all the things she wants to hear. Like that night. All she was planning on was doing some discreet flirting. She just wanted to be looked on again with some desire, feel like someone really wants her. The joke of it is that her husband does, he's just got out of the habit of telling her. Sometimes, and this is really funny, he does tell her those things but she's not listening anymore." "So after she and her husband had a couple of drinks, I asked her husband if I can dance with her. See, that did two things. First, it established me in his mind as a nice guy, someone he didn't have to worry about. Second, she thought I'm a gentleman. He said sure. He was not wild about the idea, but he didn't want to feel like he was overreacting because then she would have got upset. Its the old 'Don't you TRUST me' idea." So then I was dancing with her. I had already found out her name and told her she must have been a professional dancer at one time, she was moving so incredibly well. She blushed but she also started getting closer. That's when I started letting my hands roam, just light touches that I could have explained as accidents if she had protested." "Meanwhile her husband was trying to act like it was all cool with him. He had poured down at one drink, and probably two. He tried not to obviously keep an eye on us, so he had taken to looking around the room. Pretty soon, he was watching the other women in the place. I immediately called her attention to that, lamenting that he would act such a way with such a lovely and sexy woman for a wife." "She got upset, as I knew she would. Isn't that a laugh? She was going to show HIM alright. I eased us over towards the door to the hallway and the backroom and when the music slowed I kissed her." "She was startled but she kissed back. Now my hands were up under her skirt and I was moving her back through the door. She wanted to protest, but she was getting turned on herself and her words just stumbled, becoming nothing more than 'No' and 'Stop'. But those words were being whispered between the kisses she was giving me. I pulled her back to the closet, my hands already inside her panties." "Once there, I pushed her back against the wall and hiked her skirt up to her waist. Oh, she was into it by then. I was still telling her how gorgeous she was, how no one ever turned me on like she did. She had my trousers open and my cock in her hands by then. All that was left was to push her panties aside and drive my cock up her open pussy." "That was her last chance to protest. That's why I don't start fucking them slowly. Hell, once I'm up her cunt she figures she's already being fucked and might as well enjoy it. That last one had her legs around me and was bouncing up and down on my cock like she hadn't been fucked in years. I was slamming the goods to her just as fast and as hard as I can. It didn't take anytime at all for her to cum, and when she did I shot my load right up inside her." "As soon as she's calmed down, she gets scared. Now we're into this 'I never have done this before' and 'Oh, God, what if my husband finds out'. I kept reassuring her that its okay, no one noticed and that he'll never know. Then I pulled her panties up over her soaked pussy full of my cum and told her she'd better get back before her husband notices. I assured her that it all only happened because she was so special and that I will never breath a word of this to anyone." "What happens if he finds out?" "Who gives a shit?" replied Dan. As Dan expansively bought drinks for his two admirers, the door opened and a party of four females came in. They were laughing and joking and settled in at one of the unoccupied tables near to the booth the three men were occupying. The waitress who stopped by smiled and called all four women by name before bringing them a pitcher of beer and four glasses. After the glasses had been filled and passed around, a dark-haired woman stood and raised her glass in a toast. "Here's to Judy and here's to her promotion. May she always treat us poor underlings right." Two other women raised their glasses and echoed "To Judy." All four, including the one being honored, tipped up their glasses and drank deeply. "Thank you all." The red haired woman named Judy stood and bowed to her friends. She sat back to the accompaniment of laughter and clapping. The woman who had made the toast turned and called out to the waitress, "Jackie, better bring another pitcher, please. I think we're going to go through a lot of beer tonight." "Coming right up, Carol," answered the waitress. As the night wore on Dan and his pals kept a watch on the four women. The band had started and they had noted that three of the women had got up and danced at almost every opportunity. The dark haired Carol had remained in her chair, smilingly refusing the different men who approached her. "Hmmm," Dan stroked his chin. "Now there's a challenge." He concentrated on her left hand as she filled the glasses from the latest pitcher. He caught the flash of light and nodded. "Either engaged or married. She's wearing a diamond ring, but I can't tell if there's a wedding band there too." He stood and walked over to that table. josh and Bill couldn't hear any of the conversation. Dan had spoken to her and then upon apparently getting the same answer as everyone else, he had talked a bit more and then sat down. The two of them began to talk. Dan was obviously listening much more than he was talking. At one point he held his hands up in front of him and they both laughed The music stopped and the band took a break. The other women returned to the table and Carol introduced Dan to her friends. They all talked and gestured for a bit longer. Then Dan stood, gestured back to Josh and Bill and returned to the booth. "Wow," Dan said, a smile of anticipation broadening his face. "What is it?" "I've never fucked a cop before." "No Shit?" "Yeah, the whole group of them are Sheriff's Deputies. The one named Judy just got promoted to Corporal. She's cute, but I want that married one." Dan laughed. "Be a change to fuck the cops instead of them fucking me." Over the next couple hours Dan moved around the club, but always made sure to return to Carol's table. He never pressed anything, just remained charming and polite and looked for his opening. That chance came at about 11PM. The other three were dancing when Carol suddenly seemed to turn an interesting shade of green. "What's wrong?" asked Dan. "Too much to drink combined with Thai food." She swallowed and suddenly stood, grabbing her purse. "Oh Lord." She sprinted for the ladies room and didn't return. By the time the music set ended and Judy and the other girls returned to the table, Dan was circulating again. He passed by and one of the other woman caught at him. "Dan, did you see where Carol went?" "I think she went home. She said something about not feeling well. She didn't drive did she?" "Oh no, we all took cabs or were dropped off here. Speaking of that though," the woman looked at her watch and then at the other two, "we've got the morning shift tomorrow and that new Corporal might be grumpy if we were late or hung over." "Could be," Judy agreed with a grin. In short order they had cleared the bar. Dan was not sitting at the table but was nearby when Carol returned from the ladies room. She looked pale and upset when she didn't see her friends. "Carol, what are you still doing here," exclaimed Dan, pretending surprise at seeing come back again. "I thought you had left with Judy and the others." "Damn. Well, we live in different directions anyway. I'll just call a cab." "I don't understand. Why doesn't your husband come get you. I know if I had someone as lovely as you out at night I would come flying to you. As a matter of fact," Dan continued, laying on the charm, "I wouldn't let you out by yourself at all." "Oh he's keeping out daughter tonight. I could have got my mom and dad to do it, but he wanted to spend some time with her." "Well then, let me take you home," offered Dan. He considered making a crack about stay-at-home men not being real men, but sensed it wouldn't go over. Females always liked to act as though they wanted a sensitive man. They wanted a REAL man instead, of course, but didn't dare admit it. Carol eyed Dan up and down with a speculative look in her eyes. Had he been less confident of himself, he might have realized that most of the alcohol in her system was gone. He thought the look was one on interest. He was wrong. "Okay," she conceded. Its only a few miles from here. "I'm sure you won't mind if I take one precaution though." With that she walked over to the waitress who had been serving the foursome and spoke to her. The woman nodded agreement and Carol returned. "Can I ask what that was about?" "Sure, if I don't call her in 30 minutes and tell her I'm home, she'll call the cops." "Damn," thought Dan. "I'll have to work fast. But hell, that's plenty of time." He held the door open for her and walked her to the car. Twice she veered slightly away from him. Without thinking, both times he closed the gap she had opened. He opened the passenger side door and closed it after helping her in. He looked back at the club entrance where Bill and Josh were standing and gave a cocky grin. Then he got in the car. Five minutes later, having fended off four attempts to touch her shoulder, three attempted kisses and both a grab at her upper thigh and an attempt to put her hand between his legs, Carol had enough. "Knock it off, damnit. I don't know who you usually end up in this car with, but I'm not one of them. Stop it and I mean now." She flung open the car door and started to climb out. Dan hurried around to the passenger's side of the car, trapping Carol with an up flung arm. "Look, I'm sorry you feel that way. I didn't mean to be too forward." His hand brushed over her shoulder. "I just can't get over how attractive you are. I mean, I feel something special is connecting us. Can't you feel it too?" His hand caressed her arm and she jerked it away. "Look, I'm tired of telling you 'No'. Now stop it." "Of course you are," Dan grinned. "All of you get tired of that, and then the answer is 'Yes'." He closed the distance to her. Josh nudged Bill. "I think he's got her." Bill nodded in admiration. Dan had the woman pressed up against the car door. His arms went around her and he pulled her into a tight, passionate kiss. "Yeah, that's got her. They never come back from that. Hope her old man doesn't check her too carefully tonight when she gets home. Whenever that might happen to be. The two men shared a nasty laugh and exchanged high-fives. Their attention was suddenly wrenched back to the scene before them by a loud "Boom" of something hitting sheet metal. Their mouths dropped open. Dan was sprawled over the front of his car. The "Boom" apparently was the sound his head had made when it hit the hood of his car. The woman had one arm twisted up tight behind his back. Her other hand was tangled in Dan's hair. She had turned his head sideways and was speaking in his ear. "Now that I have your undivided attention, I'd like to tell you a story." She paused and bounced his head on the hood again. BOOM. Bill and Josh both got the idea that sound would act as punctuation throughout the story. They were right. "Once upon a time an old cop two days away from retirement stopped a man for running a Stop Sign." BOOM. "He approached the car, got the man's license and insurance and told him 'Sir, I stopped you because you ran that Stop Sign back there'." BOOM. "The driver replied, 'I did stop officer. I slowed down, looked both ways and went on through'." BOOM. "The cop said, a little more forcefully this time, 'Sir its a Stop Sign, not a Yield sign. You have to stop'." BOOM. "Getting a little impatient himself, the motorist insisted, 'I stopped. I told you. I slowed down and looked both ways before I went through'." BOOM. "At this the cop gave a deep sigh and said, 'Sir, listen to me. You have to Stop. You didn't'." BOOM. "Now the driver is getting angry. He's important, he doesn't have to listen to this crap. So he says "I told you, you dumbass cop. I stopped. I slowed down, looked and went on'." BOOM. "The cop jerks open the door, pulls the guy out and slams him over the hood of the car. Rather like you are now, as a matter of fact." BOOM. "Then he starts bouncing the guy's head on the hood, rather like we are now also." BOOM. "Then the old cop says, 'Now then buddy, do you want me to slow down, or do you want me to STOP?'." BOOM. "Now the moral of the story is this." BOOM. "The next time a lady tell you to stop, I want you to understand that she means STOP." BOOM. "She doesn't mean slow down. You see the difference?" BOOM. Dan uttered a low moan. The woman brought her ear closer to his mouth. BOOM. "I didn't quite hear that." "Yes!" "Yes, what?" BOOM. "Yes, I understand." "Good. The woman let Dan go and he remained slumped on his car, moaning and trying to hold his head. Josh and Bill could see the dents left in the once pristine hood. The woman picked up her purse from where she had set it on the roof of the car and headed back towards the club. As the woman approached, Bill opened his mouth. The woman looked at him and cut him off before he could speak. "Don't even fuck with me, mister. I have more stories. Would you like to hear one?" "No ma'am!" The woman swept past them inside. A short time later a car pulled up and an attractive blonde woman rolled down the window and whistled sharply. The first woman walked back out of the club and waved. "Here, Sue." She turned around and gave a quick hug to the waitress they had seen earlier. The blonde looked over at Dan. Getting out of her car she walked over to him. "Well done, Carol. I see you really paid attention in unarmed combat at the Academy." "Actually Linda taught me that way back in high school." A smile played over the blonde's face. "Well, yes, she's quite a teacher." "Not like THAT, Sue." "I'm teasing, hon. Now let me get you home before Roger starts worrying. Don't tell him this, but you got a pretty good guy there. I don't want him to think his wife is running around," Sue paused and winked at the outraged expression on Carol's face, "Running around beating guys up in bars." She bent over the car and looked at Dan's head. "Think you pounded some sense in him?" Dan picked that moment to open his eyes. His injured pride surfaced and he made a second mistake. "Fucking bitch," he mumbled. "Must be a closet dyke." BOOM. "I'm not in the closet," said the blonde woman as she bounced Dan's head. "As for her, well," she gave an exaggerated sigh, "I didn't have any luck either." "Sue, what are you talking about?" Carol whispered, a flush spreading over her face as Sue dropped Dan's head on the car hood and they walked back to the car. "You never, I mean..." "Oh, I know Carol," Sue whispered back. "It just seemed fun to tell him that." The two women continued their chatter as they got back into the car and left. The moment the car pulled out of the parking lot, Josh and Bill ran over to Dan. "God, Dan, are you alright?" Dan moaned and held his bruised head in his hands. Josh dashed back inside to get some aspirins from the bartender. Bill managed to guide Dan back inside to a chair, onto which the battered man collapsed. He gulped four of the painkillers and sat there numb, unwilling to move. "Dan, are you okay," repeated Bill. "What are you thinking?" "That I've decided to become a monk." Carol opened the front door and quietly closed it behind her. She heard a soft tenor voice singing. "Waltzing Matilda, waltzing Matilda, you'll come a-waltzing Matilda with me." Smiling, Carol slipped into the family room. Her husband was holding their 6 month old daughter against his chest while he sang to her, swaying gently from side to side. Her head was pillowed on her father's shoulder. She was fast asleep. "Where's that jolly jumbuck you've got stuffed in your tucker bag." He moved in a circle and saw Carol. He smiled and blew her a kiss. "You'll come a-waltzing Matilda with me." "She's asleep, Roger." "I know, but this was so nice I didn't want to stop." He carefully walked down the hallway and placed her in her crib. He kissed the little girl and then moved aside so Carol could do the same. Dimming the lights, they went to their own bedroom and closed the door. "How was the promotion party?" Roger asked. "Everyone have a good time?" He checked the baby monitor on the night stand. "Yes, indeed," smiled Carol. She put her pocket book on the dresser. Reaching inside she pulled out an ID folder and laid it on the shelf by the bed. That shelf already held an identical folder which had fallen open to display a badge and ID Card. Two semi-automatic pistols lay there. "Glad you didn't have to shoot anyone then." Roger nodded at their sidearms. "I always worry a bit when you go out unarmed, off-duty or not." "Not when we're drinking honey." Carol returned from the bathroom where she had gone to wash her face. She had changed, pulling on the long t-shirt she wore for sleepwear. Carol stretched at the side of the bed. Roger's arms slid around her waist and she leaned back into his embrace. He kissed the side of her neck and whispered. "Missed you." "I missed you too." She turned her head and caught his lips with hers. His hands crept up over her stomach to cup her breasts. He rubbed his palms in wide circles over the sensitive globes. Carol felt her nipples harden, reacting to the gentle scrape of her t-shirt across them. Her fingers ran through the hair on his chest. She grinned impishly and curled her fingers slightly and scratched lightly. Roger returned her grin. "Beats me why that feels so good honey, but it does." "No more talking," she breathed in his ear. Her hand slipped down between them and under the waistband of his boxer shorts. She gently stroked his hardening cock, bringing it to full arousal. "No more talking," he whispered in agreement. He brought his lips to hers and kissed her, slowly at first, their tongue tips teasing each other. As their passions stirred their mouths opened fully to each other. Without loosing contact with her husband's cock or breaking their kiss Carol rolled from her side. Rising to her knees she crossed her arms and caught the hem of her t-shirt. With one swift motion she pulled it over her head and threw it away. The Ladies Man Brent Tildon sat back in his booth and smiled. He was used to succeeding and the money certainly was good. But the satisfaction of making the deal where others on the team failed, and the resulting accolades, was what drove him. As former college Quarterback he was used to adulation and the deference afforded him by lesser men. The key to his success was that he never let those men know he thought of himself as superior. When his shoulder was smashed in a little no-consequence game early in his final season everyone thought he would do what other jocks did, become a talking head or a used car salesman playing off his name. He had everyone fooled though because he'd maintained a 3.9 GPA and when he finished college he was in a cast and on the dean's list. His success in business was no less stellar and after twenty years he still loved the thrill of the chase. He viewed it all as a competition and he was determined to succeed. Before he was married he viewed women the same way, as conquests. He was very successful in that area too, not only for his status, but for his genuine caring for whichever woman he was with. When he was with them. They all got the sense that there was nowhere he would rather be than buried between their thighs. That success was also due in no small part to his prodigious equipment. It wasn't the largest of his team-mates but he used it with the determination that his partners should get at least as much pleasure from is encounters, if not more. After he was married he didn't stop fornicating, he just limited it to road trips. When he was home he showed the same dedication to his wife's satisfaction and she never suspected his infidelities. He traveled for two weeks at a time, the first and last of each month, and that afforded him many opportunities to play. His wife was a beautiful Nubian princess from an affluent family and he loved her dearly, but he found good looking, white, middle class women to be irresistible. He could do things with them that he couldn't bring himself to do with his wife. They were mostly married, many travelers like himself. He always took the women at their word regarding birth control but he had no hesitation when it came to wearing a condom if they asked. He'd had a few scares over the years but no one had pressed him on it so he figured they'd been safe. In fact, as he sat there enjoying his last drink before going to his room, there was a woman at the bar who looked like just his type. She was around his age of thirty eight and she seemed very well put together. She was wearing a wedding ring on her elegant finger but she had that look like she was casing the room for prospective partners. He sat there through another drink while a couple men hit on her and she gently rebuffed them. She's looked his way a few times and he didn't try to hide his interest. For Brent, this was where the fun began. Steeling his nerve, almost like preparing for a game, before making his move. He watched her look at her watch and frown slightly and he took that as his cue. He rose and was three quarters of the way across the room before her gaze turned is way. He saw a fleeting smile before her noncommittal expression returned and he knew she was interested. "Hi, I'm Brent." he said. He spoke softly so she'd have to lean closer over the din of the bar. He put out his hand to shake. Now that he was closer he could see her eyes and they were mesmerizing. A shade of hazel he'd only seen a few times before. She grasped his hand lightly for a full two seconds before she responded. "Ellie." Her voice was soft also and smooth. Her accent was hard to place. "How do you do, Ellie? A fellow traveler?" He didn't pull his hand away and hers lingered for several more seconds before she pulled it away. "Yes. I don't travel that often, but I try to enjoy myself when I do. What do you do, Brent" "I'm in sales. Machine tool accessories. You?" Brent noticed her drink was running low and gestured for the bartender to refill it. He kept his eyes on the woman but he noticed, peripherally, that the bartender dispensed club soda and water. "Software for retail outlets. You know, bar code pricing and stuff. Enough about work." She gestured to the stool next to her and Brent sat, although he noticed she stayed mainly facing the room. Their conversation turned to other mundane things and Brent had a chance to really look at her. Again she seemed close to his age, well preserved. Her makeup was light and she didn't seem concerned about the few grey hairs she had. Her skin was tight and smooth with only a few small wrinkles around her eyes. Her tight, flower print dress revealed modest breasts above a relatively flat stomach along with slender hips. Brent was paying attention to the conversation but he was totally surprised when she rested her hand half way up his thigh and asked, "So Brent. Do you like what you see?" Momentarily taken aback he stuttered, "Well, uhh. Sure, I mean..." Then he laughed out loud at his own clumsiness. "Okay, busted. I'm sorry. It's just... well, you're very attractive and you're smart and funny. Any man who just met you would have a hard time not ogling you." He set his hand on hers and stroked her fingers lightly with his own. Ellie rose abruptly, "Well Brent, I could say the same for you. And I think we can agree we're both here for the same thing. Why don't we blow this popsicle stand and see what we can find to drink in my mini bar." Brent rose and placed his hand in the small of her back to guide her out but she stopped him. She faced him and took his hands in hers and raised her mouth for a kiss. When he complied her mouth opened and her tongue fenced with his for close to a minute. When their lips parted she laid her hands on his chest and spoke, but so quietly he barely heard, "Would it bother you terribly if my husband watched us?" Brent stood back in shock. Ellie's head was facing down but her eyes were demurely looking up into his. "Umm." Again Brent was at a loss for words. "Ahh, I don't know. I've never had an audience." Ellie moved closer and cupped her hand over his semi erect penis. "He's not into guys, he won't touch you and he won't interfere with me. He just likes to watch me with other men." "Uhh, Ellie." Brent looked around to see if anybody's eyes were on them. "I don't know. It feels kinda weird." Ellie moved even closer and kissed him again then brought her lips to his ear to whisper, "When we're in my our room, you won't even remember he's there. And since we're going to my room you can leave any time you like. Whaddaya say?" Ellie's sensuous lips were already distracting him again and he acquiesced. This time Ellie guided him out and after they got in the elevator she said, "Travis will be along shortly. We have about twenty minutes to get acquainted." The elevator doors were opening and she walked out and started removing her clothes as she walked down the hall. Brent followed after her, picking up her clothes. He stumbled a few times when he bent over because his eyes were fixated on her ass. By the time she got to her suite at the end of the hall the only thing she was still wearing was her emerald green garter belt and one nylon. She opened the door with her pass and waited for Brent, who entered wordlessly. Brent was still mute when she sidled up to him and started undressing him. "We've got twenty minutes until Travis gets here. Let's not waste it, mkay?" Ellie loosened his tie enough to slip it over his head, then whipped it off. She expertly undid his buttons and he moaned as her warm hand pressed against his chest. When she went to push the shirt off, back from his shoulders, Brent came out of his temporary paralysis and with a groan he moved his mouth to hers. His shirt was falling to the floor when her hands laced around his neck and she pulled herself close. This wasn't going to be lovemaking. It was fucking, plain and simple. Ellie brought her legs up around his waist and he felt the heat from her mons through his pants. He groaned again and brought his hands down to cup her ass and this time it was Ellie's turn to moan as her mound ground against his bulging slacks. Brent backed towards the bed and sat down heavily on it. Ellie's groan was almost feral as she leapt off his lap and tore at the zipper of his pants. When that and the button was undone she pulled at his pants and he lifted his ass to let her pull them down, along with his jockeys. Brent was always of the opinion that underwear were to keep his balls up tight and together and to collect sweat and other inadvertent emissions. He felt boxers didn't do that adequately so he had never taken the habit of wearing them as underwear. Ellie's hand fell onto his deep brown shaft and she stared at it intently. Her barely whispered, "I have missed this", almost escaped his hearing and he assumed she didn't play around that much on her husband. She quickly started stroking it and licking the head with her dainty tongue. Her eagerness was vaguely reminiscent of one of his first girls-of-opportunity, after he left college, and he found himself looking at her more closely. There were so many girls though, and her mouth was so good on his hard cock that his thoughts turned to more hedonistic subjects. He was so close to cumming and he didn't think she was going to stop. Abruptly though she did, leaving him with a painful pinch at the base of his shining dick. He barely had time to open his eyes when she was pushing his torso back onto the bed. She quickly clambered up and he saw her pussy, positively dripping with juice, poised over his contrasting black, purple actually, knob. He looked at her face and her eyes were closed as she lowered herself onto him. She let out a gasp and a muffled, "Holy Christ!" as he filled her. He couldn't believe how tight she was. Brent could see a different sheen applied to his cock as her hips slowly levered up and down. Her arms were wrapped around his neck and she simply panted as her desire rose even more. "Oh, God! Oh, God! Oh, God!" Ellie kept intoning as Brent's cock disappeared and reappeared in the light from the eighteenth floor window. Brent heard a loud slap and Ellie shrieked as her pussy clenched at his cock, her orgasm surprising them both. Brent looked past her and saw a smaller man grinning and lowering himself into a chair pulled up near the bed. He was wringing his hand as if to dispel a pain there and Brent realized that he had slapped his lover's ass. Her hips were still hunching against his but her vaginal spasms were lessening. She raised her head from Brent's neck and whined, "Honeeey! You're early!" The man grinned and sat back. He had a drink in one hand and unbuttoning his slacks with the other. "I knew you couldn't wait, my slut." He then gestured imperiously for her to continue and she turned back to Brent for another passionate kiss. "I love this cock." Ellie whispered to him so even her husband couldn't hear. She slowly started to grind against him, her clit mashed against his pubic bone as she looked deeply into his eyes. Brent's hands gripped her ass, not to control but to feel. She sat up with her hands against his chest and rapidly pivoted her hips for a minute. She went back to the grinding again. Each action was intended to bring one of them closer to the edge and after several minutes Brent could feel her body start to vibrate. His own crisis was getting near and he tried to warn her. "Ellie!" he gasped. "I'm..." Ellie put her fingers over his mouth and really started to work her hips. Brent relaxed and let it flow, his body going rigid and his hips thrusting mightily into the air. He could feel each pulse of his dick, each agonized contraction as his semen streamed into this dynamo on top of him. As he was finished she moved her clit back to his pubic bone and within a few shuddering strokes she reached her own release. "Oh! Oh, God!" Ellie screamed. "Oh, fuck! Aaiiigh!" Brent stared intently at her face as she came, loving the rapturous expression as her body convulsed in ecstasy. Her orgasm went on for close to a minute and small aftershocks coursed through her as he stroked her back and thighs, softly. Brent chanced a look over at Travis, certain there was no way her own husband had ever made her feel like that. He was shocked to find Travis' spent dick in his hand, the sheen of his cum covering his whole groin. Travis' dick was possibly larger than his own and for a fleeting moment he thought he saw a look on his face of disgust and... hatred? Quickly it was gone, replaced by a huge smile and a tip of the drink in his other hand. Travis got up and went to the bathroom and Brent heard the shower running. He gave the matter no more thought as Ellie was recovering and moving again. Somehow his erection hadn't gone away completely and Ellie did her best to help it recover. When it did they changed positions and he watched his dark cock framed by her alabaster ass cheeks, sliding in and out of her distended pussy lips. Brent loved this position, likening it to a musician playing an instrument. He could use his cock and his hands in many different ways to bring the woman far greater pleasure than mere fucking. That was what he did here, bringing Ellie to orgasm after mind-blowing orgasm. He finally blew his last load, coating Ellie's anus and lower back, while she was left gasping for breath. They both groaned and fell over. After several minutes Brent struggled to get up. He looked over and saw Travis asleep on the couch, naked. Ellie told him not to bother leaving until he at least had a nap. Since her point was sound he allowed himself to fall asleep, spooned up to Ellie's back. Brent awoke some time later, just as the dim light of dawn peeked through the uncovered windows. At first he was disoriented. As he struggled to move he realized he was tied to the bed, face down. There were several pillows positioned under his groin, elevating his ass and he felt someone softly stroking his buttocks. He looked back and saw Ellie, fully dressed, grazing his cheeks with her finger nails. "Good morning, Brent." She smiled tenderly at him. Brent looked around and didn't see Travis so he figured this was a continuation of Ellie's games. "You have got such a delicious ass, you know? But then, you always did." "Al... Always did? What do you mean? Do we know each other?" Ellie pinched his ass before responding. "Oh, we knew each other before. In the biblical sense then too, now that I think about it." "Umm, can you give me a hint?" This time she smacked him hard on the ass making him grunt and flinch. "You mean you don't remember the mother of your first born? The girl you ignored? When I told you I was pregnant you said 'prove it', then you said, 'there could have been any number of guys who was the father'." Her hand resumed stroking is ass, dipping down into his rectum. "No! Don't go there." he cried. "I have to go." "I know you do, dear. Let's continue with my story. This is 'me' time. So, anyways, you basically called me a slut. Truth is, you were my first. And as good as you were, I was disgusted with myself for going that far with a stranger and I never had sex again, until I met Travis. Your son, also Brent by the way, was four then. Travis didn't rush me. He took his time and it paid off in spades. He loves me and I love him. We'll do anything for each other." Ellie never wavered in her caresses. "So anyways, Brent junior died when he was eleven. My precious baby, gone. Travis was a terrific father to him, better than you I suspect. At least that's what Larissa, your beautiful wife says. Did you know she's really smart? She can decipher a credit card bill like a wizard, once she had a reason to look." "Larissa? What's she got to do with this?" "Well, we go to the same gym, and I saw your picture in her wallet." Ellie got up and stepped to the side of the bed, holding a box of Viagra. "In fact, she texted me about twenty minutes ago and told me that she was ready." "C'mon, Ellie, I'm sorry. That was a long time ago and I was young and stupid. Wait, ready for what? What's the Viagra for? I've never needed that." Ellie showed the first flash of fire as she responded. "You fucking arrogant prick! I was an unwed mother, a college junior and mother of your boy! And you wouldn't even talk to me. You still probably don't really remember me. I wasn't Ellie then, I was Beth, from Elizabeth! And you expect me to forgive and forget?" She threw the Viagra at him and lowered her voice. "Anyways, Larissa has been at our house many times. The sex with you is always great, she says, and I have to agree. You were magnificent last night. You're a fucking master with that thing." She gestured to his dick. "But Larissa has suspected there's something missing. You're never home, you never do things with the kids. And except for the sex, again fantastic, you don't want to do anything with her. Why not, Brent, football superstar? She is really fucking gorgeous. Travis thinks so too, don't you honey?" Travis finally walked into his field of vision. "I do. And so soft. A great kisser, too." Brent bristled. "You son of a bitch, don't you touch her!" Ellie laughed. "Double standards anyone? Anyways, Larissa's just finished moving. She cleared all the bank accounts on you yesterday. The only credit card you have left is your corporate one. We have a big house so Larissa and your two lovely baby girls, the ones who sit on his lap and call Travis, 'Uncle Trav', have lots of room to stay. When we get home to night, Larissa is going to give herself to Travis. She wants to know what it's like to make love with someone who loves her." Tears welled up in Brent's eyes and he moaned as he struggled with his bonds. "Nooo. Not Larissa, my baby." "You should have thought of that before you started fucking every white girl you could, starting with the caterer, my sister, at your engagement party." Travis walked closer and Brent could see his massive erection. Ellie reached out and grasped it and slathered lubricant all over it. "You know, Brent." Ellie continued. "Pain looks a lot like pleasure when seen out of context." Brent moved behind him again and Brent felt him get on the bed. He had an uneasy feeling as Ellie got up and walked to the tripod he'd missed before. He felt Brent prise his clenched buttocks apart and slather lubricant on his anus. Brent tried thrashing around to stop Travis but that earned him a quick punch to the kidney that left him limp and groaning in pain. "Now Brent, honey. This camera only shows Travis' hips and you. That lubricant won't help you but it will protect his dick." With that Brent felt the rubbery head of Travis' dick at his tight portal, then a pain unlike any he'd ever felt ripped through him. He screamed aloud as Travis' eight inch cock drove deep into his core. Travis took a second to reposition himself then he began pounding. He plundered Brent again and again. "I had Travis take a Viagra so he'd be hard. He's really not into guys, but we figured it would be fitting. I'm sure he'll have lots of use for the Viagra, you know, with your wife and I." Brent was unsure how long his asshole was fucked but eventually he became aware that Travis was close to orgasm. He knew it was almost over, although the shit that was in his bowels added to his misery. Suddenly it got much worse though, as Travis jumped up and brought his cock around to Brent's mouth. Brent could smell the shit on his dick and suddenly it was in his mouth. Brent started to retch but he was stopped by the torrent of semen cascading into his mouth. This time he did retch, then he vomited. He heard Travis curse above him even as his cock and pubis got covered by Brent's vomit. Innumerable minutes passed as Brent fought to regain some composure. He heard the others dressing and murmuring. The Ladies Man Ellie stopped by the bed, fully dressed. "The room was rented under an assumed name and we wore disguises. We cleaned all our dna from the room, uhh, except what you swallowed. You'll run into us eventually, but before that this little vid will have made the round of your office and country club." She leaned over him. "By the way, I know how much you liked this since there's a puddle of your cum under your cock right now." She stood again. "I know you have to take a dump real bad. And a piss too. So we'll call for house keeping to let find you. In about four hours." Ellie turned and clasped Travis' hand. "Now I have to go take care of my hubby. I really owe him for this. Maybe I'll join Larissa and we can put on a show for him. Bye-bye." In truth it was only three hours before housekeeping came in and called security. By then he had messed himself and was hard pressed to convince them not to call the cops. He told them it was a miscommunication between the other participants and he greased their palms liberally, especially the cleaning staff. He ran into his ex-wife eighteen months later, in a grocery store. The only contact they'd had was through lawyers. She was pushing a stroller and walking with Travis. He started to berate her but Travis wordlessly intervened by standing right in front of Brent. He was a bit smaller than Brent but they both knew it wasn't worth a fight. "Y'know, asshole." Larissa still wanted to get a word in. "If you had asked me, we might have been able to have fun with your tramps. But you had to cheat, break my trust. Then when I found out what you did to Ellie. Well, if you ask me you deserve what you got. And more. Now Ellie and Travis and I are enjoying life with people who love and are honest with each other. And all you have are your hollow skanks. Goodbye." Brent had learned the hard way that women were capable of anything, you only had to ask. But if you cross them they will likely get their revenge. The Ladies' Man For the first time in years, Randy actually paid attention in class. It wasn't just because he was afraid of getting kicked out of yet another high school; well, he was, but the last time had been for pulling the fire alarm before an exam, not for bad grades. It also wasn't because he had suddenly discovered a passion for learning; Randy had seen little in his nineteen years to make him think that school wasn't a corporate scam. He understood that he needed to bite the bullet and get through one more year to earn his GED, but that didn't make him happy about it. No, the thing that held him captivated was Miss Brookland, or more accurately, the way her ample breasts stood out beneath her white button-down as she turned at a profile to write on the chalkboard. Since the day he arrived at Trask Park Girl's School (which was actually just a few days ago, but its a figure of speech), Randy had been quite taken with the tall, buxom and blonde history teacher, even if she was a real bitch about classroom discipline. Oh yeah, Girl's School. About that part. Randy had mixed feelings about being sent to Trask Park. On the one hand, it was a little embarrassing to admit he was going to an all girl school. After his last expulsion, his parents had sat down with the board representative and struggled for hours to find an alternative. Unfortunately, Trask Park was the only high school left in the district that would make an exception for him, and his mother - no matter how much his father insisted on it - couldn't bear to send her darling son away to a boarding school. So, here we was. But on the other hand, despite the embarrassment and the stares and the no football team and the knowledge that he really wasn't supposed to be here, the eye candy at Trask Park was phenomenal. Randy was confident that with his looks and athletics and devil-may-care aura, he'd be drowning in pussy by the end of the term. "Pssst," said a voice from his left. He looked up to see Amanda looking insistently at him out of the corner of her eye. Speaking of eye candy, Amanda was wearing her white school blouse in a way that would never be permitted at most places. Unbuttoned and tied together at the chest, it left her flat belly exposed at the bottom and her small - but delightfully perky - cleavage at the top. Since there were (in theory) no boys around, Trask Park let its students get away with a lot on hot days like this one. "Take this," she mouthed silently at him. With a mischievous smile and wink, she picked up a ball of paper and tossed it to him. Well, that was unexpected. Amanda was one of those mindless, brown-nosing squares who went to church every Sunday and always got perfect grades and saved themselves for marriage (hahaha, he'd disproven more than one of them in that). She was about the last person he'd expect to see passing notes in class. Well, let's see what she has to say. He uncrinkled the paper ball and looked. Instead of text, there was a drawing. A crudely-drawn stick figure standing behind a desk, with grotesquely huge breasts and a comically high-strung expression. Randy almost laughed out loud, as much out of shock as amusement. Amanda had seemed like Miss Brookland's adoring little pet; he must have really misjudged her. He looked back at Amanda. She was sitting back at her desk, eyes on the lecture, but just a soft trace of a grin on her thick, glossy lips. Randy picked up his pen and started writing his own thoughts under the drawing. I'll bet she uses her panty drawer to keep ice cream frozen. If she wasn't such a- "Miss Brookland?" Randy froze, pen still in hand. Amanda had her hand raised. That was hardly unusual, the little know-it-all, but it was also rather unfortunate in this case. Since Amanda sat right across the aisle from Randy, when Miss Brookland's attention shifted to Amanda she was also likely to notice... "Just a moment, Amanda." Miss Brookland stood to her full, rather impressive height and narrowed her blonde eyebrows. "Randy, can you give me that piece of paper?" Randy's blood went cold. No no, he wasn't going to get in trouble already, he couldn't. He felt the eyes of the twenty or so girls in the class all fix on him, roasting him from every angle as he met Miss Brookland's gaze. Somehow, the glasses made her hard blue eyes even harder. "Sorry," Randy said with a self-deprecating chuckle as he absently pushed some chestnut bangs out of his face, "I kinda spaced out, started doodling. I'll throw it away." He started to tear the sheet in half, but she shook her head. "Hand it to me." Shit. "Look, Ma'am," Randy tossed his head to one side, "its really not that interesting." He finished tearing the paper in half and started ripping it smaller. "Mr. Randall Klein, you will give that to me right now!" Her voice had gotten very calm and very dangerous, and its send shivers down his spine. As she spoke, the tall woman strode into the aisle and stood over Randy's desk, holding out a perfectly manicured hand. Randy looked up into her eyes. They were as hard and dangerous as he had ever seen them. Behind her, Amanda's expression was unreadable. Had she realized it was her raising her hand that had gotten Randy caught? Was she feeling sorry now? Would she admit that it was her who drew the picture? Slowly, Randy handed Miss Brookland the two halves of the note and tried to put on a cool face. The teacher un-wrinkled the two halves and held them together in front of her face. Behind her glasses, her hard, blue eyes widened. Then they narrowed. She crushed the two scraps of paper in her fists and grabbed Randy by the arm. "Get up!" The bottom had fallen out of Randy's stomach. His skin was crawling all over as he got to his feet just in time to stop Miss Brookland from tearing his arm off. The teacher turned around and dragged him to the front of the class. Normally, Randy loved walking behind Miss Brookland in the halls and watching her golden braid bounce around behind her head and her big, round ass roll back and forth under her skirt. Right now though, they were the furthest things from his mind. For all her beauty, she was also a big, strong woman, almost taller than Randy, and despite his football muscles Randy wasn't sure he could get free of her if he tried. He gave a desperate, pleading look at Amanda, still sitting at her desk. Amanda was watching the proceedings, wide eyed, with her hands together under her chin. That little bitch! This was all completely her fault, but she wasn't about to step up to the plate for it. Of course, there was nothing Randy could say to Miss Brookland that would be believed. It would be the delinquent's word against Little Miss Perfect's. Miss Brookland pulled him in front of her desk and threw the bits of scrap paper in the trash before turning to face him again. "Take off your pants," said Miss Brookland. Wait, what? Randy thought. "Um...why?" The cold anger on Miss Brookland's face was punctuated by a moment's smirk. "I would have read Trask Park's discipline code before coming here, young man. Especially as someone with your track record." Around the room, a bunch of girls giggled. Randy didn't turn his head in time to see if Amanda was one of them. "Corporal punishment is given by the teacher, on the spot, and on the bare." Miss Brookland emphasized the last three words. "Now, unbuckle your pants and pull them down, or you'll be taken to the Headmistress' office." Randy looked at Miss Brookland. His Valkyrie of a history teacher was just waiting for him to keep arguing. He looked back at his classmates. The girls were all watching with wide eyes, some embarrassed, some intrigued, some whispering to each other. The cold feeling in Randy's skin turned to heat as his face blushed red. Slowly, he unbuckled his belt and pulled his jeans down to his knees. As he did, the whispering increased a bit. Randy was thinner and lighter than most high school athletes (maybe because he kept getting kicked off of teams). His muscles were hard and well toned, but they lay smoothly under his skin, making him more slender than hunky. The one part of him that wasn't thin and slim was wrapped in a pair of blue briefs, which were now exposed to all the girls behind him. Randy had always had kind of a big butt. His hips were slightly wider than usual for a boy, and since he had started putting on muscle a lot of it had concentrated on their wide, pancakey cheeks and made them bigger, as well as firmer. It pulled his briefs over a wide, square frame, and filled and rounded them out in the back. Miss Brookland opened one of the bigger drawers in her hardwood desk and, giving Randy a rather nice view down her collar as she bent down were he in the mood to notice, pulled out a rectangular, wooden paddle. It didn't look very thick, but it was long, and wide; each blow would cover both cheeks of a teenaged bottom. Randy's eyes widened as he saw the weapon. He was no stranger to being paddled, but never in front of the class...and never bare! Making him basically strip in front of the class - in front of a class of girls, no less - could that even be legal? She pointed to the desk. Closing his eyes, face burning with indignation, Randy stepped up to the desk and bent over it, gripping the far side with his fingers. He supposed there was nothing he could do but get this over with. As long as he couldn't see the girls, or the teacher, he supposed he could live with this. He would just pretend he was alone, that there was no one watching. He could do this. That was when he felt Miss Brookland's sharp fingernails under the waistband of his underwear, followed by cold air on his naked bottom cheeks as his underwear were pulled down to join his jeans, and his stoicism melted away. He gasped. Ass, dick, ballsack, it was all out in the open, presented to the girls in the most pathetic, objectified possible way. Before he could even try to get up, Miss Brookland's hands took his jeans and underwear and pulled them further down to below his knees. She picked up the paddle. Randy gasped. This was not how he had been planning to introduce his classmates to his naked body. He felt his face go red and hot. This wasn't livable at all! this was a nightmare! "You're getting ten of these, Mr. Klein, and you're going to count them." Randy almost whined out loud, but he still had too much dignity for that, if just barely. He turned his head back toward the blackboard and waited, heart thumping, muscles tense. Twenty-two pairs of female eyes scanned his naked bottom and crotch. He took his mind off of them when the first paddle swat landed. CRACK!! Just like that, his bottom burst into flames. "AH! OW! OW! OW!" His feet drummed against the floor, his fingers released the edge of the desk and grabbed them again as he tried to divert the energy to anywhere except his ass. The paddle was heavier than it looked, and there was a broad stripe across both his cheeks that felt like it had been skinned. "Count it, Randy!" "Owwww...one!" He managed to get out. As soon as he did, he was rewarded with the second lick, right exactly on top of the first. CRACK!! He didn't scream. He didn't stand up. But he did everything short of that before managing to say "two." CRACK!! This one hit lower, catching his sit spots from a low angle, but with the top part of the paddle overlapping the earlier swats. He actually jumped off of the floor. These people were insane! This was a crime against humanity! He'd have the UN human rights commission and a war crimes tribunal and- CRACK!! The paddling went on, and on, ten licks somehow taking an eternity. After each swat, he was sure his butt couldn't feel any more pain, surely you couldn't keep adding agony and not get diminishing returns at some point, the nervous system must have limits. But with each CRACK, he turned out to be wrong. Miss Brookland, it seemed, was an accomplished spanker; every lick landed exactly where she wanted it, which was usually the exact same spot. Eight. Oh god. CRACK!! Nine, please please please. CRACK!! Finally, yes! Ten! CRACK!! The tenth swat was the hardest, and on the sit spots again. Randy was sniffling, fireworks exploding in front of his eyes. He could feel his bottom smoking, he knew it! "Stand up." He shot to his feet, grabbing his hindquarters with both hands. Randy had been hoping the damage would be all in his head, but that was not the case. He felt the heat his bottom was giving off before his hands even touched it. When they did, he felt how soft and swollen it was, and how feverishly hot. Like the rest of the class, Miss Brookland watched him dance from foot to foot, bottom bare and bright smouldering red, penis wobbling pathetically around between his naked legs. Her angry expression was mostly gone, replaced with a wry poker face. At her desk, Amanda, her uniform top still tied immodestly above her midriff, was wearing a soft smile, her glossy, pouty lips parted to reveal her perfectly white teeth. Randy finished his post-paddling war dance and started pulling his pants back up, but Miss Brookland grabbed his arm. "Not yet. Take off your shoes, pants and underwear and leave them here." Randy looked at her, blinking through eyes wet with tears above puffy, red cheeks. "What???" "You're going to stand in the corner by the door," Miss Brookland said sternly, "and face the wall until the end of class. And keep your hands on your head; no rubbing your bottom!" Randy threw his arms up in disbelief. "You want me to walk down the aisle naked!" "You're not the first student in this room who's been made to do it. Is there any reason you should get special treatment?" I'm a boy, he almost said, but he realized that would be suicide. Clenching his jaw, face nearly as red as his buttocks, Randy finished getting his shoes and pants off and walked down the aisle in his shirt and socks. Girls were staring at him, saucer eyes. Some were gasping. A few were leering. One or two were holding their hands to their mouths to not laugh. When he passed by his own, empty seat, he briefly made eye contact with Amanda. She gave him a gentle smile. He wasn't sure what she meant by it. Soon, he was in the corner, hands on his head despite every nerve in his body telling him to bring them down, and Miss Brookland's lecture was continuing. Randy looked behind him to make sure Ms. Brookland's attention was elsewhere before clutching his hot buttocks in both hands, hissing a little under his breath; it was hardly any relief at all. As he massaged his wounded ass, however, his thoughts were also on Amanda. On the one hand, he hated her for getting him in trouble. He tended to do that often enough himself, and he sure didn't need help from someone who had probably never seen the Headmistress' office in her life. On the other, he wasn't sure if he could fully blame her for not taking partial responsibility for the note. Its not like things would have been any better for him if they had both been spanked - well, aside from the fact that watching Amanda get her cute butt paddled might have been hot. Still, it rubbed him the wrong way. But then, calling Miss Brookland's attention to their part of the room. Had she done that on purpose? Had the entire note been some kind of ploy to get him in trouble? Before his disobediance could be noticed, he reluctantly brought his hands back to his head (owww, why couldn't she let him rub?) and looked over his shoulder at the top of her honey-blonde head. Miss Brookland was asking a question, and Amanda was answering. Randy wondered what exactly he was dealing with in his wholesome-looking seatmate. Not five minutes later, he would begin to find out. "Ms. Brookland, can I please be excused to the bathroom?" "Of course, Amanda. Take the hall pass." Randy looked over his shoulder. Several girls in the back rows turned their heads quickly away, some of them visibly giggling. Randy felt an anxious tingling all over his naked lower half as he realized they had been peeking at him. His blush was starting to return; he wondered if his beaten ass looked as swollen and blistered as it felt. Somehow, his butt seemed to get sorer and sorer in the five minutes since the paddling and, no matter how he squeezed or clutched it when the teacher's back was turned, the pain couldn't be relieved. He watched discretely as Amanda took the hall pass from Ms. Brookland's desk and made her way down the aisle toward him. As she approached, he made eye contact with her, giving her an accusing glare. Her response would tell him whether she was sorry for this or not. At first, Amanda showed no sign of having seen his expression. Then, just as she was passing Randy on her way out the door, she stopped and looked behind her. Ms. Brookland was writing on the blackboard, her back turned to the class. Seeing this, Amanda turned to Randy with a mischevious smile on her juicy lips and tilted her head up to whisper in his ear. "You know, you have a really cute butt." Before Randy could even process this, she reached over and squeezed his right buttock, clutching the burning sit spot tightly. Randy gasped, his eyes going wide as she audaciously looked him in the eyes, still grinning. Her skin was dreamily soft and feminine; it hurt where she squeezed his beaten flesh, but her texture sent a little electric tingle across Randy's buttocks and into his crotch, which he felt give a little twitch. Her eyes flicked down to his penis before returning to his own. Randy's arm belatedly rose to catch hers, but she had already let go of him and was walking out the door, just in time to avoid being seen by Ms. Brookland. Randy stared at the door, heart thumping, mouth still hanging open. His hand went to the spot on his bottom where she had squeezed him, which somehow still tingled. Had that really just happened? Conflicting thoughts ran through Randy's head. When he had first taken inventory of the local hotties at Trask Park, Amanda had been near the top of the list. Sure, she was an annoying know-it-all who lapped up all the high school bullshit and loved it, but Randy had experience in cracking that sort of nut (in fact, he suspected that doing it to the principle's perfect princess of a daughter had been a contributing factor to his expulsion two schools ago, along with the skateboard incident) and she was hot enough to be worth it. On the other hand, what had she actually meant by that? Girls weren't supposed to grope and make lewd comments in public, everyone knew that was men's work. Was she just making fun of him? Had she gotten him in trouble on purpose and then used the opportunity to fuck with his head? Or was she really interested, and this was her weird way of apologizing for him getting paddled? Whatever the case, Randy decided it was time to seriously reevaluate what he thought he knew about Little Miss Perfect. He felt the pull of gravity down below, and glanced down. Oh shit. Thinking about Amanda in this context had gone straight to his most vital organ, and it was now semi-erect, holding itself a couple inches in front of him before curving back down. Shit. Being naked and red-assed in the corner in front of all these girls was life-destroying enough already. If they saw this, he was finished. Randy turned himself to face the corner more completely and brought his legs together, hiding his crotch from view. He decided to stop thinking about Amanda and focus on something less arousing. Like how much his ass still hurt. Randy grimaced and looked back at Ms. Brookland; damnit, she was facing his way, he couldn't rub. It was starting to itch as well...damnit, did that mean he was bruised? Moaning under his breath, he tried to think of a more pleasant subject, like the motorcycle he was saving up for or Ms. Brookland being drawn and quartered. The Ladies' Man At fifteen minutes until the end of class, Amanda came back in. Randy's dick had mostly gone down by then, but when he saw her it came back just a tiny bit. As she entered, she glanced at the front of the class to see that Ms. Brookland was facing the room. Amanda didn't slow down as she passed Randy this time; instead, she just turned her head to face him, smiled, and licked her lips. Randy's heart skipped a beat as he saw her perky, pink little tongue run across her glossy mouth, leaving her smile wet and glistening. Amanda had the roundest, fullest, pinkest, most swollen lips that had ever graced the face of an eighteen year old schoolgirl. Cock-sucking lips if Randy had ever seen a pair. He saw them wet and hungry for only a second before she looked back in front of her and walked on past to her seat. Randy felt the butterflies in his stomach come back in force. As he watched her go, his eyes were drawn to the back of her plaid school uniform skirt. Amanda was a slim young woman, but she had a big, chubby ass that pushed the seat of her skirt out behind her. With the skirt hugging it so tightly, Randy could clearly see each fat, juicy sphere bounce and wobble off of its twin as she stepped down the aisle and sat back at her desk. Round, taut, and just enough droop to make a nice jiggle under the cloth. He felt his palms itch to squeeze those cheeks, to knead them and grab them and slap them. Did she always sway her hips that much as she walked? At the moment, Randy could hardly be analytical about that. He began to salivate. Standing here, in pain, not knowing what Amanda was really thinking or being able to ask her, it was torture! Randy felt his cock rising again, and this time he couldn't get it to stop. He looked over his shoulder at Amanda's desk. She was sitting with her back to him, dutifully listening to more Punic Wars boredom and taking notes. Somehow, seeing her looking so innocent when he had just learned the truth stoked his erection. He readjusted himself in the corner and kept his legs clamped shut, praying it would be over soon. He looked up at the clock. Ten minutes, just ten more minutes. "Ms. Brookland, I need to sharpen my pencil." For the millionth time since being sent to the corner, Randy looked over his shoulder, taking care to keep his crotch facing the wall. As the pencil sharpener was mounted on the wall across the door from Randy, Amanda was coming back toward him. As she approached, her eyes met his, and she brought her pencil eraser up to her lips and chewed demurely at the tip, all while making something like puppy eyes. Randy got even harder, his cock now straining to its full length. He felt himself tremble as she came up to him. "Stop," he mouthed at her, taking a hand off his head and holding his palm up, "after class." Amanda looked over her shoulder. Ms. Brookland was facing the blackboard, beginning to write out a long, complicated homework assignment, and all the other girls were paying attention. She looked back at Randy, and raised her finger in front of her grinning mouth in a mischievous "hush" gesture. Still smiling and maintaining eye contact with Randy, she slowly inserted the pencil into the sharpener and ran her petite fingers down its shaft before starting to turn the crank. As she sharpened it, she danced in place a little and wiggled her hips, making her plump bottom cheeks bounce and jiggle against the back of her skirt. Randy desperately shook his head and mouthed "no," but she just demurely shook her head again and used her free hand to touch her left breast, rubbing the little round thing under her saucily tied blouse. Did she have no sense of where they were? Did she not realize what she was doing to his body? She pulled the pencil back out of the sharpener and, with another furtive look to make sure Ms. Brookland was still busy writing out the homework, crossed the aisle over to Randy. He tried to turn further into the corner, but she put a hand on his shoulder and gently turned him to face more toward her. Her eyes fell from his face to his erect penis, and she broke into a wide, hungry grin. She looked back up at him and mouthed "big," holding her hand and her pencil about as far apart as Randy's manhood was long. Randy felt lightheaded. He slowly lowered a hand toward her, and in so doing turned himself away from the corner so that he was no longer completely facing the wall. Then, suddenly, she jumped back and dropped her pencil to the floor. "MISS BROOKLAND!!" Randy had just been hit with a hammer. His heartbeat and breathing froze. He tried to turn back into the corner, but of course it was too late. Incomprehension seized him, as he gaped in shock at Amanda. Amanda, for her part, looked shocked as well, holding one hand up to her gaping mouth as the other pointed at Randy's cock. "Oh my god, his...his...his THING!" She looked at Ms. Brookland in horror as she kept her hand leveled at the offending body part. "Its...oh god, its just like they showed us in health class!" Randy couldn't move. He didn't even know what to think. Every face in the classroom had turned toward him. Some girls were shocked. Some were bemused. Many were whispering, and he heard a small chorus of giggles. Randy felt like dying. Miss Brookland was marching down the aisle, and she didn't look understanding. The teacher's hard, blue eyes went wide when she saw where Amanda was pointing. She looked up from Randy's hard cock to his face. For a moment, she just looked stunned, perhaps even flustered. Then her eyes narrowed. "Well, Mr. Klein, I see you're not taking your punishment all that seriously!" "Um..." Randy stammered, recoiling a little in the Valkyrian blonde's shadow, "...it wasn't because of that, really! I...it..." he helplessly gestured at Amanda. Amanda put her hand back to her mouth and looked up at Ms. Brookland, apparently outraged. "Mr. Randal Klein, you are not going to blame my students for your inappropriate..." even through her anger, Randy could see a slight blush well up in her cheeks as her eyes went back to his penis. She gulped a little before finding the words "...for THAT!" Randy's heart was racing. He tried to think of something to say, but there was nothing. His eyes fell from Ms. Brookland's face to Amanda's, and his face darkened. That bitch. That absolute fucking CUNT! "I guess I didn't paddle you hard enough last time! Come with me!" Before Randy could react, Ms. Brookland had reached out and grabbed the back of his neck, pressing her fingers under his collarbone in a classic commando-hold. Randy gasped in pain as she pushed his head downward and started dragging him behind her up the aisle, making him struggle to keep up with her. Every girl he passed stared and whispered. His face burned almost as hot as his still-hurting bottom. He tried to glare back at Amanda, but with Ms. Brookland squeezing his neck he didn't have enough range of motion. With his head held downward at the teacher's side, he had a perfect view of her shapely bottom weaving up and down on each side as she marched him briskly to his doom; that didn't help with his erection. When they reached the desk, Randy thought Miss Brookland was going to put him back across it, and for a moment she started to guide him in that direction. But then, she seemed to change her mind. With a moment's hesitation and a quick glance down at his crotch, she pulled her cushioned armless chair out from behind her desk and sat heavily on it, pulling Randy across her lap. He could have resisted, but he knew that would get him nowhere. If he got in any more trouble at this point, he'd be sent to the headmistress, and he couldn't afford another expulsion. He gasped as his iron-hard penis lay against the soft material of Ms. Brookland's skirt and was soon pressed by his own weight against her lap. He could feel the warmth and firmness of her thighs underneath, and his erection was only encouraged. He knew that she could feel it. His face was burning, he could feel it even through the rush of blood his head was recieving as it hung near the floor. Ms. Brookland adjusted herself in the chair so that Randy's wide, pancakey, bright red bottom cheeks were held high over the teacher's lap. At this angle they were pointed most invitingly out into the room, like a class exhibit. He felt cool air running through his crack, and he realized that with his bottom raised over her thighs like this the girls could even see between his cheeks. His humiliation had hit rock bottom. There was no such thing as being more demeaned than this. Ms. Brookland pressed one muscular arm against Randy's back to hold him down as the other produced the paddle from her desk drawer. His stomach was trying to squirm out of his gut. He felt her above him and below him, and sensed her eyes boring into his still burning rump. And he knew it was about to get so much worse. "This will teach you to be a disgusting little pervert in my class!" CRACK!! Randy's head shot up. His arms and legs twitched. He howled. The first paddling was nothing compared to being struck on an already bruised and damaged butt. There were simply no words for the pain. He shrieked. She kept paddling. CRACK!! CRACK!! CRACK!! Randy couldn't think. The only thing that existed in the entire world was his bottom, and it was being pressed against a bed of red hot coals. He struggled mindlessly against her lap, babbling and blubbering to get away as the paddle kept coming down again and again and again, each stroke landing across both cheeks. She smacked the top of his bottom, the lower part, the tops of his thighs, the lower part again, up, down, middle, down...it all blended together, and yet he felt each smack like it was the worst of the lot. The tears started, and Randy could barely think coherently enough to try to stop them. "You. Will. Behave!" The paddling went on. His bottom was gone. She had paddled it away entirely he just knew, there was nothing left but raggedy flesh and bone, he would go to the hospital and need a butt transplant and Ms. Brookland would go to jail and ooooooooooooooow he couldn't think! CRACK!! CRACK!! CRACK!! When the paddling finally stopped, Randy was howling, his face running with tears, the chestnut bangs that normally looked so roguish and uncaring sticking wetly to his skin. How many had he gotten? Twenty? Thirty? Arms trembling, he reached back and, terrified of what he might find, touched his fingertips gingerly to his bottom. Oh god! The skin was still there, he wasn't actually bleeding, but it felt huge! He couldn't believe the human buttocks could grow so swollen, or so hot! Below him, his erection was completely gone. His tip was wet from the few drops of precum that had been squeezed out against her thighs, but he was no longer hard. "Stand up." He struggled to his feet, jumping and trembling and stomping from foot to foot, no longer caring about the laughter. He didn't look at the rest of the room. He didn't want to see the girls' faces. In the seat next to him, Ms. Brookland was watching his tormented dance with an unreadable expression. On her lips, there was just the slightest hint of a smirk. "Class is dismissed," Ms. Brookland said, "remember to copy down the homework. Mr. Klein, you may retrieve your clothes." ... The old locker rooms were almost always abandoned, so that's where Randy went the instant he was out of the classroom. He stood with his back to the mirrors, grimacing and hissing as he splashed cold water on his ruined bottom. In the mirror, his cheeks were swollen to at least half again their normal size, and the exact color of ripe cherries, mottled with rectangular outlines where the edges of the paddle had bitten into his flesh. He didn't know human skin could actually turn that color. The water stung like hornets when he splashed it on, but the burning was so hot without it that he couldn't tell which was worse. He was still bouncing a little from foot to foot to try and diffuse the energy, but it was useless; there was no escaping the fire in his bottom, and there wouldn't be for a long time. He gave up, stepping away from the mirror and clutching his wet, glistening red buns in both hands. So much for drowning in pussy. He'd be lucky if any of those girls ever took him seriously again. He'd been trying to stay out of trouble this time! Really, for once it honestly wasn't his fault! If it hadn't been for that little... "Ooooh, its even cuter when its that color." He wheeled around, not even bothering to cover his crotch. Amanda was standing near the entrance, one foot resting languidly on the changing bench. She was leaning forward a bit, which meant her small, perfectly shaped breasts were visible down her custom-tied blouse. She was toying with a strand of her honey-blonde hair as she gave Randy a cute little smile. "What the fuck do you want?" Randy growled. His hands balled into fists. It was all he could do not to throw the manipulative little bitch over the bench and give her a taste of her own medicine, expulsion and legal consequences be damned. "I think the same thing you want, actually," she said peppily, her smile widening. She really did have lovely lips. "I just wanted to set things straight first." She stood up and walked toward him, her heels clicking against the tile floor. Randy took a step back, but having her nearby made him feel warm and antsy despite himself. He felt just the faintest return of a stirring down below. "Its totally obvious what you've been thinking," said Amanda as she backed him toward the faucets, "ever since you've got here. You think you're some big stud who's going to 'get' all the girls, don't you!" Randy shook his head, his head and heart both pounding. "What? No, I-" She chuckled. It was a musical sound, even if it was mocking. "You're a terrible liar, Randall Klein. I've seen how you look at me, and everyone else." He backed into the sinks and gasped as his sore bottom pushed into the edge, jumping a bit. Amanda laughed again, putting a hand adorably to her mouth. "What the...what the hell are you trying to say?" He tried to stand straight to seem more intimidating, but Amanda was unfazed. She came closer until her body was just a foot from his, her thighs nearly touching his naked legs, her breasts only inches from his ribs. He felt her body heat all over him, and he felt his composure starting to fade again. "You think we're here for your pleasure. Like we belong to you. You've got it backwards." She reached down and seized his cock in her hand. Randy's mouth hung open. He was frozen, his brain telling him one thing, his body another. She tickled his shaft with her fingers, and it started getting hard again. "That really turned me on, you know," she leaned in and whispered huskily in his ear. Her left arm snaked around to caress his hot buttocks, heedless of his gasp of pain, as she gently pumped his shaft, "Heehee, I don't think I've ever seen Ms. Brookland spank so hard! It was hot." She pressed her torso tightly into his, filling his belly and chest and crotch with the sensations of woman. Almost unwillingly, he lowered his hands to the seat of her skirt and squeezed her juicy ass, pulling her tighter against him. She squealed happily and clutched his dick harder. He was helpless. This was exactly what he had wanted...except that it was also the exact opposite. "So, after watching that, I need to get laid." She squeezed his cock even harder as her voice fell to a husky whisper. "And you're going to get fucked." The Ladies Man "God, you are so beautiful," Roger murmured as his eyes ran back and forth over his wife's taunt body. His hands followed running lightly from her legs over her hips and up her sides. Carol shivered in delight as his hands returned to her breasts, no longer hidden by her shirt. With a sigh of pleasure Carol leaned forward and offered her pink tipped orbs to her husband's eager mouth. His lips took each breast in turn, gently drawing all he could into his warm mouth and sucking while his tongue rasped over the nipple. First the left, then the right. As he let each one escape he would carefully drag his teeth over the nipple, making Carol shiver and utter a deep moan. "Enough of THAT, you," she growled in mock anger, the sensations still tingling through her body. She fell against his hard body and they twisted until they faced each other. Carol threw her leg over Roger's and pulled him right up to her. Their arms encircled each other and with a heave Roger slid his erection into Carol's waiting tunnel. The man and woman moved together. They were in no hurry. Small thrusts and hips movements kept their excitement high, while their arms and hands stroked each other, providing a loving embrace that held the two in one passionate embrace. Carol's arms encircled her husband's waist, while Roger's reached up to grasp and massage her shoulders. They exchanged quick kisses, showering each other's faces with love. Slowly the pace began to speed up. Roger drew farther back on each movement, drawing his cock almost out before settling pack inside Carol's pussy with a long push. She met each thrust of his, moving her hips around and around each time his shaft buried itself in her. Gradually she rolled farther onto her back until he was over her. Bracing himself up on his outstretched arms Roger moved faster and faster. "Oh Roger, oh Roger," Carol gasped. "Fill me, my darling. Love me, Love ME." Spurred by his wife's words Roger panted as his hips rose and fell. Sucking in air in deep gulps, he bent his head to kiss Carol again, his tongue reaching into her mouth as his cock reached into her pussy. Her body began to tense, her internal muscles gripping his cock as it slid in and out of her silky walls. "Carol. Oh my God, CAROL!" In one long motion he pulled completely from her and then slammed his pulsating cock back into his wife and held. His back arched and they both froze for one seemingly endless moment until he emptied himself into her. At the same time Carol strove to muffle her cry of exultation as her body spasmsed and her own orgasm met his. Roger sank back down against Carol. They shifted until they were on their sides again, facing each other. Both held their breath, trying to listen. As they realized what they were doing they both laughed softly. "I guess we didn't wake her up." Roger settle back and drew Carol to him. She laid her head on his shoulder and sighed again, this time in contentment and happiness. He looked down at her and kissed the top of her head. "You are without a doubt the most beautiful, the sexiest woman who has ever lived." Carol snuggled deeply into her husband's arms. "Flattery will get you everywhere, lover." "I bet you say that to all the guys," teased Roger. "Nope," Carol replied as reached out one hand and snapped off the light. "I just tell them stories." (No, I'm not Australian, although I have a couple of wonderful Aussie friends. "Waltzing Matilda" came to mind because when my daughter was a baby she loved to hear her daddy sing that to her.)