0 comments/ 30159 views/ 2 favorites An Offer He Couldn't Refuse By: coldamaranthine I walked into the library for the staff meeting, and saw that all the rumors were true. Her unsmiling, but kind face was rapt on the speaking superintendent. Perhaps listening so intently so she could throw back what he said in his face at some point in the future. Yes, my Vanessa was like that. She still looked so young, considering that I know she's about 25. Her eyes fluttered to follow as the superintendent stepped sideways to let me by, and she briefly accosted me before doing a double take and staring at me momentarily. The moment broken, she went back to what she had been paying attention to before. I began to reminisce, it had been so long since I had last seen her face. She had been in a few of my classes her senior year, although she had went to Maguire High for her entire secondary education. Vanessa had been one of my more unique students. She was amazingly bright ( probably within the top three most intelligent students I had been privileged to teach), but also perilously unmotivated, funny and sarcastic as all hell (a purebred trouble maker), and gorgeous in a rather voluptuous way. And for a 18 year old girl, she had an ability of self control beyond her years. The boys had come chasing her that year, and while she sometimes coquettishly led them on, it was only to inevitable heart break. Sometime in the middle of the year she all but abandoned flirting (unless necessary to get her way), and would wear a rather concealing, but tasteful black trench coat. Her hair was dark, but had natural golden and red highlights veining through. Her skin was ivory white, and she had almost black eyes that glittered when she laughed, or yelled. Her body was small, but muscled, almost heavily, because at the time she was almost fulltime at the local store pushing carts. I had went up there to see her a few times, although she never saw me, and it was amazing to see her push in 40-50 carts by herself, just like any of the boys. Vanessa was never on any of the sports teams, but she had natural physical prowess. Her legs were like a track stars, and most of the boys knew enough not to make her mad, they feared her on principle. In fact, due to her commanding, self-assured attitude, most people would comply to her whim without much struggle. Including me. I've been married for 15 years now, have two sons. I love my wife dearly. And while I knew that I couldn't fall for her in that last year of school; that I was slowly forming a crush on her. A schoolboy's crush. On a student 20 years my junior. I allowed it only because I felt that once she graduated, that was it. I would never see her again. Well, guess what Jamie-boy? She's part of the staff now. Imagine that. A horrible, but painfully intelligent student becoming a teacher. How hypocritical. I leaned forward so that I could look at her down the row, still so intent- "James?" My head jerked up toward the speaker, "Yes?" "I've been trying to speak to you for about five minutes. Are you a bit preoccupied about how late you showed up to this meeting, or is something else wrong?" My face almost flushed from the commentary, but I retorted swiftly, "I guess you're just too quick and thorough for me to keep up with. What did you want to talk to me about?" He waved me off and wrapped up the meeting. I saw Vanessa deftly shuffle her papers and stand up. Walking out the door, I grabbed her arm. "How have you been Miss Haze?" She smiled that impish smile at me and was about to start talking when she realized that there was a flood of other teachers and counselors walking in that direction. "We'll catch up later, Brighton!" That nasty habit of hers had never left; calling people solely by their last name. I had found that out. After a week or two of formalization, it was customary for many of the students to drop the Mr. and entitle me and other teachers by only our last names. There had been a few times though that she made sure to not only call me Mr. Brighton, but would toss in a complimentary sir, or professor to get her way. Flattering woman-child she was. How often during those times would she lean carefully over my desk to offer up as much cleavage as was possible through her low-cut shirt and trench coat. She did it so knowingly for how innocent she was. In fact, in all my years teaching, there had never been a female student who was so beautiful that ran around without a male attendant for her entire tenure in my classes. Yes, she often had boys around her, but it was obvious they were only friends in her mind, or she was using them and twisting them around her finger. She was always lone, always powerful in her own right, without having to date at such a tender age. I sat there idly at my desk, all my work having already been done that day. It was apparent, since it was 3 o'clock and most of the teachers were about to leave, or already gone, that Vanessa didn't plan on coming to see me. Standing, I made my way up the stairs to the English department. Walking in to Mrs. Connelly's old room, I saw her sitting there facing the desk, which was up against the wall of windows. She had headphones on, and was singing along to it while apparently working on something. Looking over her shoulder, I ascertained that something as being a crossword puzzle. Headbanging to whatever music she was listening to, she took out the ear pieces, and then gasped as she saw my shadow on her desk from the lights. "What do you want?" I laughed. "I thought you were supposed to come see me." "I said we'd catch up later. Not particularly saying that I would see you, and not even definitely today." "Well, I'm here, let's play catch up." Vanessa swiveled in her seat enthusiastically, spinning around a few times. Finally, I grabbed the arm rests and stopped her, facing me. Even being a few feet away from her, I could smell that enigmatic scent she always carried that was some sort of fruit blend. Looking her up and down, I began to remember those old feelings surfacing from when she was a student of mine. Except, now she seemed to have thinned a little in adulthood, and tended to dress a bit more provocatively. Not saying she was dressed like a whore, by no means; but considering she used to wear a large Puritan coat, this was certainly a change. A form fitting, light blouse which showed a bit of her goods, and a dusty gray skirt with pleats that fell halfway down her delicious, crossed legs. Her black shoes had long been discarded by the door of her new classroom, and she sat in her girlish ecstasy before me. Her dark hair with red-golden veins teased me as she began to question me, "Are you just going to stare, Brighton?" "Possibly." "What's happened in your life?" "Absolutely nothing. Yours?" She half laughed and scoffed at the same time. "So us playing catch up was you basically coercing me into tell you everything in my life with nothing from you. I don't like those odds. Why should I give you information for free?" "What could I pay you for your information?" Her, "Hmm..." was a rippling purr, "Well, there are many ways I could ask you to pay, Professor Brighton. It just happens that, as a man of moral, I doubt you'd be willing to ... cooperate." The Cheshire cat grin itself was planted on her lips, the coral lips I wanted to kiss so dearly. "Vanessa, as a peer, you may now call me James." "James-" * * * For three weeks she had been torturing me. Some days she would come down to the science backroom/break room just to chat, and then she would abstain, making it mandatory for me to go in search of her for conversation. She seemed to come in early, and leave late everyday, coming in usually at 5:30 when school didn't start until 7:30, and leaving around 4 or 5 when school ended at 2:30. I always came in early, mostly to take advantage of the weight room before school. I was an assistant football coach, I took care of defense. Therefore, I made sure to continue a lifelong obsession of mine with weight training. Although I've been told often I wasn't a bad looking man, most women were pretty offset by my solitary nature. Not Vanessa. She just tortured me more, and made me crave her when she wasn't torturing me. Whatever sadistic spell she had over me was powerful indeed. Early one morning, I drove in and parked, not noticing for a moment that she sat in the car next to me half naked. Looking over, I saw her in a rather compromising situation with her shirt half up. Sensing eyes, she ceased and desisted, getting out of the car, picking up a few bags. "James..." "What in the hell." I said it as a statement more than a question. Because in reality, I wasn't completely sure I wanted to know. "I..." she stopped and began walking in. "It's cold out here, I'll tell you inside." I jogged up next to her, and in the science room she began to unload on me, looking as disheveled as I had ever seen her. "I work midnights over at Savers." "You never quit? You mean to tell me that you've been working there for 8, 9 years?" "I'm a midnight manager. 400 a week, after taxes, for 40 hours. I never found a reason to quit." "I say having to change in the middle of the parking lot for your other job is reason enough." "I can't change there, no proper bathrooms, and my office's lock is broken. I can't change inside here because I did one day and one of the janitor's 'accidentally' came in on me. In the women's bathroom," her voice dripped with distaste, "No one's ever here outside this early for me to worry about people seeing me dress out here. Of course, except you," an evil, little smirk settled on her features, "I had already changed my pants before you got here, thank god." My eyes gently settled on her pants, finding it a convenient reason to stare at her ass. Nodding, I looked up into her dark eyes. "You need to quit your other job. You've looked kind of worn out the last few days, and today... you really look like you need a good night's sleep." "I only work..." she tried tallying the hours up in her head, but after the fifth time of trying to add them up, I stopped her, "You work well over 80 hours a week, I can deduce that much. Do you need the money? Why are you working both jobs?" She bit her lip. "Could you turn around?" "What?" "Go to the door and hold it closed, but I really do need to change my shirt. Please, James." Sighing, I went to the door and faced it, holding the doorknob. I heard her moving behind me, but didn't know exactly what was going on. After a minute she said I could turn around. "No, I do not need both jobs. I just like being occupied." "Worked to death?" "Occupied." I raised my voice now, "Vanessa, you're at this school from 5:30 to 4 or 5 every day, that's 12 hours, and you're working 40 hours as a manager at Savers, meaning there are nights when you get less than 5 hours of sleep." She shook her head. "I work Wednesday through Sunday there. So I get normal sleep Monday and Tuesday. It's only about... ninetyish hours per week." When she thought about the number of hours she said, she stopped. "Wow. 90 hours." I laughed. "Yes, you're working yourself to death for about 900 dollars a week. And what is that money going toward?" She didn't answer. Finally looking up at me, she said something, "I'm putting it in my savings account." "For what? To buy a house?" "I already own a house." "Then what? You're not supporting a boyfriend, I hope. How can your boyfriend let you work this many hours in the first place? Is he working? I better not have to come down to where you live and shake this bastard half to death." My menacing frame hovered over her. Sheepishly, she answered me again, "I work to keep my mind off the fact that I'm single. And I'm single because I refuse to make time for people because I like to use work as an excuse." My eyes widened slightly at the revelation. "Vanessa, when was the last time you were on date?" Not answering at all, I cocked my head to the side. I reached up to touch her pretty face. "Have you went on a date before?" She slowly shook her head from side to side, "Well, once...", looking like she might cry if I didn't know she had the self-restraint of a goddess. I breathed slowly. "You're very beautiful, you should have a social life." Her face twisted in a way, in confusion. "I don't care about other people. I don't like being lonely, but... I just don't like most people." "If you aren't social you don't get to know the people you like." "I don't like going out with people I like either. I can do it, it's just not... fun, most of the time..." "So, you're telling me that you've never dated, and you have no plans in the future to begin to?" This time her nod was up and down. Her eyes were downcast, as if upset that she had disappointed me. "It's your life, Vanessa. And even if you decide to be a recluse for the rest of your time, at least know your limitations. Ask for less hours, take a demotion... you can't keep working this schedule and changing in the parking lot." The rest of the day I was decidedly confused. I had known she was rather inclined towards solitude in high school, but she had been so adept at handling people, most didn't notice. She was fine with talking to people, public speaking, getting to know people- in school, but it was fact that when she went home, she did not go anywhere else. Still, to imagine that these traits had been unwavering for so many years for such a beautiful woman... It was disquieting. Going home early because football practice had been cancelled, I pulled into the driveway behind a white Suburban. I got my keys out and headed toward the house. The door was closed, strangely. Usually when we had company at home, the door was left open. Walking in, I immediately realized what was happening. My wife was moaning, and the bed squeaking. Another man was heard saying something just barely out of my range of hearing. She laughed, gasped, then screamed, "God, yes! Amen!" I went back to stand in the doorway of my bedroom, leaning on the frame heavily, watching our pastor fuck her hard, her legs splayed contentedly over his shoulders. "How was your day, Seline? Pastor Rick." Opening the closet door, I put my coat on a hanger as they slowed and stopped their activity. Their eyes read deer in the headlights, but I didn't mind much. I had known she was fucking someone, I just didn't have the proof, or the knowledge of who. In the kitchen now, I began a pot of coffee. Even though I was laughing, a pressure was forming on top of my head which threatened to become a migraine. Seline stood there, her shoulder length blonde hair ruffled. "I'm sorry, James. I don't love you any more." Looking her up and down, I shrugged. "You act like I care. Do you want the house for now until we can sell it? That way the boys have somewhere for awhile until we can find our own houses. We probably shouldn't get into custody issues right now, but I am guaranteeing that we're splitting this down the middle, no alimony since you have a job, and while you'll get the boys more of the time, I have the right to come and see them whenever I damn well please." Her eyes began to water, and she nodded resignedly. "I'm sorry." "Don't be sorry about not loving me, dear," I walked up to her and cupped her chin, "Be sorry about not telling me about our problems sooner. Either we could have fixed this, or got it over with sooner. But I guess we can make due with what we have now." I dropped her chin and went over a friend's for the night. The next morning I came to work to find Vanessa sitting in my seat in the science backroom looking very well-rested. She smiled up to me warmly. "How are you this morning, James?" "My wife and I are getting a divorce because I finally caught her fucking another man in our bed, and I now need a place to stay until we can get everything finalized and the house sold." Her eyes were wide. "Oh my God. I'm so sorry-" "Don't bother with that," I bit into a banana I had brought for breakfast, "It'll be ok. To be honest I've known about it for a long time. I just never had the evidence." Fidgeting for a few minutes, she looked up at me from deep thought as I asked her a question. "What about you, how was your day?" "I was going to cut back my hours, but instead I just put in my two week's notice. They gave me a bonus for my last two weeks, and said to take the night off to get some rest, because they've been noticing me coming in as a zombie as well. And... if you want..." she looked as if this was painful for her to think of the possibility, "If you want I have two spare bedrooms in the back of my house if you need somewhere to stay until you get back on your feet." She met my eyes, and then shook her head, "But..." she stopped herself, and just died off. I considered it. Looking at her, she was blushing. "Well, how do you really feel about this?" "I don't want to offer it to you, but at the same time I do because it's the right thing to do." "Why don't you?" She kind of smiled, and blushed all the way back to her ears, "Well, it would be a conflict of interests. I had a pretty big crush on you in high school." "Do you still have that crush?" "Not really, but if you're around too much, then I might. I know you don't want some little girl ogling you." * * * She had given me an extra key the next day after I agreed. Laughing, she gave me the ground rules; strict ground rules. "The upstairs is where I stay, there's a door before you can go upstairs, it's locked at all times that I'm not home... and sometimes that I am. I have two cats, a few other animals- you aren't bringing any, are you? Good, because I don't want to have to kick a dog's ass for getting too fresh with my babies. If you leave at night, which is fine, and I come home, the doors will be locked. I will not get up to let you in if you don't have your key. "If you leave, lock the doors, or else you won't be here to have to remember to lock the doors. If I end up kicking you out for something, which I doubt, but I'm covering my bases here, I'm changing all the locks. Don't throw parties. Having a friend or two over are fine. If they are dirty, and fuck my house up, I'll kick their asses and throw them out. You will be buying groceries... but everything else I will pay for unless you take advantage of any of the utilities more than normal." That was it, she then gave me the key and the address, saying that if I got there and she was sleeping that was fine, be quiet. She did still have a week of working at Savers. I got there after trying to find somewhere else to stay. My brother lived half a state away, and I couldn't drive that to and from work everyday. All my friends had families, and no extra space, so I couldn't impede on them... and I had to save money for this upcoming divorce. My wife wasn't being bad now, but who knows what a woman will do when she gets her PMS that month. Vanessa's house was immaculate, mostly, I assumed, because she didn't really live there. She just slept there sometimes in between work. Whole c.d. and movie collections in her house looked as if they'd either never been watched, or maybe played once on whim. And she wasn't lying about being asleep when I showed up, but after an hour of unpacking in the only room lit up in the house, I heard something drop to the floor upstairs. It was so heavy, I hoped it wasn't her. Then loud music and shower water were heard. It sounded like metal, she had always been an old rock and metal girl. When the shower ended, I heard a door open across the house where the stairs came down. She had run down the stairs in her robe, brushing her hair, music blaring from upstairs. Seeing me sitting down the hall, she screamed and tripped over her feet, falling backwards onto her rear. "Christ in a fucking cracker barrel." An Offer He Couldn't Refuse "Having fun?" I waved at her, then walked over to help her up. She stood up without using my hand, and resolutely walked back up the stairs rubbing her hip, grumbling. She left for work with her beautiful hair partially wet and slung around her shoulder, I didn't see her again until after I had left for work, when her car was parked and she was again changing in the parking lot. I pulled up next to her, and looked over, her shirt was off, and she was pulling another one on. Looking over, she glared at me. I got out, as did she, and I found myself dodging a book. A large book heading for my eyes. Not saying anything she walked inside, and I trailed after her. She stomped up the stairs and made a beeline for her classroom, which she locked behind her. I used my key for the English break rooms, and walked into her classroom through that. Her fingers were massaging the letters of her keyboard, writing something frantically to another online. When I came up behind her, she closed the window. "I'm already considering having you leave my domicile. You are very presumptuous, and I rather enjoy living alone." "In a two story house with a full basement. You enjoy having all that room to yourself? For chrissake, the downstairs bathroom was dusty from disuse!" She made an indiscernible sound like 'pfft' and started clicking away again. Then she stopped, swiveled in her chair to look at me and went, "Could you have been a gentleman earlier and parked somewhere else? You knew I was changing." "I'm sorry about that, it's just... I'm a man who is suffering from withdrawals, and you're gorgeous... Forgive me." Her eyes raked over me, and she scoffed. "No." "Do you work tonight?" "Yes." I couldn't resist her elven charms. I walked over to her and leaned over her as she began typing again. I knew she could very well feel the heat coming off me, and my hands as they quietly brushed over her darkgold hair. She floundered me away, and continued typing. I began again, running my hand along her hair down to the bottom, to come up and stroke it again. Swiveling around again, her face was livid, "Why are you doing this to me? Is it funny to you? Am I some sort of joke? Why don't you leave? Don't you have work?!" She stood and began to walk toward the door. I grabbed her and turned her around. "What in the hell is your problem?" "You are my problem. Playing with me, idly flirting. Can't you see I'm trying to ignore you?" I tried piecing it together in as many ways as I could, but they all came out to the same conclusion. "Either you think I'm not attracted to you and am just 'playing around', or you are attracted to me and are trying to hide it." She fumed, but in silence. At long last she decided to say something as I came closer. "Or both." Putting my hand resolutely, fatherly, on the side of her head I said, "I do not just play around. And you are gorgeous. And you need to lighten up; take a chance-" Lowering down, I went to kiss her soft lips. She looked frightened and turned her head, making my wanting lips collide with her right cheek. "Vanessa?" She blinked. "I've never kissed someone before, and I don't want my first kiss to be from a man who doesn't care." That note of hers resounded in my mind for over a month. How could her, a goddess of beauty and wisdom be so chaste? Was she indeed the Grecian Athena embodied? Vanessa let me live in her house, and that morning was all but forgotten between us. At first, even after quitting Savers, she would sleep until 9 or 10 after work, and then be awake the rest of the night and day. When she started to get on a normal schedule, she stayed on her level of the house for the most part, rarely coming down for a snack through the back stairwell into the kitchen (which also had a locking door). But finally, after about a month she began to come downstairs to sit on the computer or to watch tv with me. Not because she had to, she sat on my laptop when she had her own computer upstairs, and she definitely had her own television. She even made dinner for us one night. Lasagna, which I consumed with great ardor. It was delicious, almost as sumptuous as the simple divorce my wife and I shared. Seline had already found buyers for the house, and my half of the mortgage was going to find it's way right into my pockets. Custody was still somewhat an issue, but we had already agreed to let her keep the boys with unlimited visiting time for me. I couldn't take them anywhere on whim at any time, but I got every other weekend, and every other holiday, not to mention a good majority of the summer. Therefore, my child support was at a minimum. I think I am really falling for her. Vanessa moved with such grace that I couldn't keep my mind off her. Her intellect, her conversational abilities... I thought about her all the time. And then at night, when I laid alone in my bed, I remembered the old fantasies I used to have about her- This night wasn't much different. I remembered a favorite one, where I had her over a table in the science backroom that she frequented, even as a student, and was thrusting into her with all my might. She screamed my name, and it just fueled me to pump into her harder. My hand slid over my throbbing cock under the sheets when I realized, I wasn't alone. The door swung open, and she kind of jumped onto my bed. I tried to hide my erection, but if she noticed, she didn't care. She leaned over me, and whispered frantically. "James, I need you. I've been contemplating this for over a month now, and I ... I... am such a moron..." she kind of collapsed down into herself and onto my chest. She wore nothing but a mid-length nightgown, and I could feel her over-ample breasts pounding into my torso. Her hair flew everywhere, and her lips were quietly pressed down into my chest as well. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have come in here while you were sleeping." By God, she hadn't noticed that I was halfway through jerking myself off, and was still hard as ever. "How did you come to this conclusion; that you needed me, that is?" "I've known that you were it. The perfect man, since I was in high school. Every man after had been judged with you as the bar they had to top, and none could. None could possibly." "You're a romantic fool." Perfect. I looked into her eyes, and saw what she was, a romantic, idealistic girl. But I also saw what else she was, a hungry woman lusting to be uncaged from the child's prison. I reached behind her neck and settled my hand on her nape, leading her face to mine. Her lips pressed innocently against mine. Slowly, I began to open this mouth, and entreat her. While she learned quickly, her kiss was decidedly amateur. It had a sweet, innocent tumble about it. I turned over, letting her be the one lying down on the bed, and me lording above. Raising myself more, I managed to finagle one knee in between her legs. As one hand began to roam across the upper half of her body, the other slid beneath her gown and massaged a thigh. Vanessa's breaths were shortening. I moved the straps of her nightgown down so that both of her breasts pleasantly popped from their holding cell. The uncontrollable urge to kiss and suck on these breasts overtook me. I took the left nipple in my mouth as my left hand gently fondled her right. My right hand was now working a finger into her wet pussy. I groaned thinking of how tight she was. My mouth now sought out her right nipple and gave it the same treatment as the left. After a quick nip, I heard her gasp and felt her buck into my hand. I immediately tried to fit in another finger. God, she was so tight. My cock was bulging against the fabric of the sheet that I had brought up with me. The band of my boxers was drawn below that penis as I had tried to jerk off without removing all my clothing. I began to kiss her neck and shoulders when I heard her say my name in between a gasping moan. I almost creamed myself right then. "Harder, James." She hadn't come yet, and I was wondering if maybe she needed to have my cock in her before she would be sated. Positioning myself between her legs, her arms held to her sides by her nightgown, I saw that she felt helpless. I removed myself from the tangled sheets and slid my boxers off. I then took my dick and led it to her wet pussy. It took a moment to prepare, both herself and me, but my large asset began to enter her. Her eyes became glassy, and I had been afraid that I would cause her too much pain. Vanessa's face already betrayed her ache, and I had not even reached her hymen yet. I began to drive in a little harder, and I kissed her passionately to deter her mind from the pain. I reached the barrier of her virginity, she gasped into my mouth, and without a second thought, I tore it and kept going. Tears ran down her face, and I moved up so that I could wipe them away, kissing just below her eyes where the tears had ran. I pulled out, feeling the blood lubricate her, smelling a copper tint to the female odor. Pushing in again was somewhat easier. A few more times, and her pussy was beginning to adapt and open to my invasion. As I began an almost normal rhythm, she spread her legs wider to accommodate me, and moaned. When she started bucking against me, I sped up. Her hands were still locked at her sides, but she thrust herself up against me as hard as I was fucking her. Her eyes opened to stare at my face, and she snatched a quick kiss before saying, "Mm, yes, harder." I pounded into her frenziedly now, deeper and faster than before, fucking every inch of her available, and probably taking more than what was there. Her sighs and wet cunt soppily accepting me began me on my way to coming. She said harder again, which I did my best to offer, driving my pelvic bone into her clitoris to get her off before I came. A guttural cry came from her, and the recurring spasms of her pussy let me know that she had come. With a few more deep jerks into her, I came as well. We shared another kiss before I rolled off her, prepared to hold my damsel in my arms. She turned over and fell into exhausted sleep. The next few days allowed me to see the voracious sexual appetite that she in fact contained, all before concealed to me; the monster now uncaged. The drive to work was interesting, as she asked how to perform fellatio, and proceeded to take my floppy member from my pants as I was driving. My cock hardened in her hands, and delighted, she took it in her mouth. Her tongue played on it for a bit, but then she did her best sucking on it, bobbing her head to my liking after awhile. She was ecstatic to see how I flinched and spasmed under her favors. I wanted to resist, as I was a careful driver, but when a hot woman offers you a blowjob, you don't deny it. Besides, she was good at it. She lightly grazed her teeth over a sensitive part of my cock, and then almost deep-throated it, and I orgasmed. Unable to throw back my head and close my eyes, I was content in knowing that my sperm was going to a good home down her pretty little throat. She gave my rod a final lick, gave my balls a final grope, and then placed them back in their rightful place, carefully zipping my pants back up. Again that morning, I'm still not exactly sure how it happened, but while sneaking up on her from behind after saying there were a few things needed grading in my room, she leaned over as I grabbed her, and her tight ass against my cock had me hard again. I am 45 years old, and this woman had me hard twice in an hour. Any older gentleman has to be able to appreciate that. It's rare to be so aroused that this situation would arise for many middle-aged men. She felt it through her thin skirt, and smiling obliged it, bending over her desk. Our waists still had full contact, and I lifted her skirts to find a lack of underwear. She giggled as I dragged my fingernails across her bare ass. I pushed my hard, but confined, dick against her and she groaned. I unzipped my pants. Pulling it out, I led it to her core, and leaned over her to grab a heavy breast, she whispered to come closer, and as I did she huskily said, "Make me yours." All blood had seeped from my head to my groin, and I wildly began to take her. I let go of her breast, and victoriously had one palm holding her hip to pull her into me, and my other hand grasping a large chunk of her tresses, to keep her head thrown back. The hand holding her leg snaked beneath her dress to begin swirling her clit. She cried out more than once, broken phrases. I fucked her viciously. All she did, all she could do, was come. I kept fucking her until I felt her tense beneath me a second time, and then I let my load go in her for a third time in 24 hours. She had been so wet, she dripped on the floor and on my shoes. This must be remedied. When she tried to stand, I bent her back over the table. "I suggest, love, that you keep position while your Master is at work." Getting on my knees, and began to lap up and drink the come between her legs. I sucked on her clit, and began to rub it with a finger while my tongue leapt up into her pussy until she climaxed again, dripping all her juices into my waiting mouth. And I couldn't believe it. Looking down, I saw that I was hard again. No wonder I had a headache already. I stood and let her skirt fall. I backed away, my hard member saluting her as she turned around. With a wicked smile she walked up to me. Grabbing my dick wet with her juices, she sank to her knees, and immediately began to eat it up. I held a fistful of her hair, and unable to take her languid pace, I looked down. "Vanessa, I'm going to fuck your face." She smiled, and I rammed my cock all the way down her throat, feeling it tighten as she gagged on it. Over and over I crushed her face into me, until finally I felt my balls tighten, and I came hard, each spurt deliciously hitting the back of her throat. I pulled out, and immediately fell to my knees to kiss her passionately. Don't worry though, she had her revenge. That night, she invited me up to her room, and I was the one lying on the bed. Without warning she asked, "So, who is the Master?" "What?" She had been straddling me, and her hand came down on my bear chest hard. "I said, who is the Master here?" I played with her game, loving the wild, serious gleam in her eyes, and her pussy dripping on me, making my pubic hair a drenched, sticky, but satisfying mess. She turned the tables, moving so that her cunt landed just above my face. I ate her hungrily, but as this proved to not be enough, she began to grind on my face, screaming her pleasure. When she orgasmed, she moved, leaving my face a complete come war zone. She kissed me, and began to kiss and lick my face of her own fluid. Taking my hand, we walked into the shower across from her room, and bathed at ease with the other. When the fancy struck me, I threw her up against the tiled wall and began to fuck her again. She held the shower head, and I was just glad she had little friction stickers on the bottom of the tub so I didn't fall over. It didn't continue like that forever, just for the first few weeks. After that, Vanessa calmed somewhat, only wanting serviced at least once a day. I gave in to her harsh demands with grace, knowing full well that if I didn't, she would masturbate on the bed right next to me until I was so hard I had no choice but fuck her mad. It scandalized my wife to no end to know I was living in a house with a woman twenty years younger, and a helluva lot more beautiful and intelligent than she ever was. She had my sons calling her my tramp until I set them straight. I warned her not to continue, or I'd have them asking about Pastor Rick. Finally, after a few slutty, jealous attempts at getting me back, one of which included her begging on her knees that she'd let me do anything and everything I wanted to her, she realized I found my garden of delight and let me be. She even called me one night to point out that our son Daniel was almost 16, and that I was dating a 25 year old who could very well end up more attracted to my own son than me. I laughed. "I love Daniel, but I have a bigger dick, and a lot more experience than the lad."