8 comments/ 18145 views/ 5 favorites Grudge By: double_entendre Hello everyone. I am sorry that it has been so long since my last posting. This story is quite a bit different than some of my previous work. For those of you that liked my romantic happy ending tales, I am sorry to say that this is not one of them. I hope that you will enjoy it anyway, and please don't forget to vote. I would personally like to thank my editor, Bachgen, for putting forth the effort to help make this story a much better read. -- Double_entendre. * The bar was rather crowded for a Sunday evening, but Derek had scarcely noticed. Oblivious to the world around him, he sat staring at his beer on the table, wondering why he had even bothered to order the damn thing in the first place. Derek was never really much of a drinker, and in fact hated the taste of most alcoholic beverages, especially beer. His brew of choice this evening had more to do with his state of mind than it did to quench his thirst. As he sat nursing his beer, he suddenly heard his name being called out. The voice was so unmistakable that he immediately recognized its owner, though it had been many years since he actually heard her speak. No, this was not his cheating bitch of an ex-wife; though in his mind it was a tossup as to which woman he despised more. "Mrs. Murphy," he replied, barely acknowledging her presence, "I'd heard you were back in town," he said in his most monotone voice. "Hello, Derek, and please call me Joyce. I thought I recognized you sitting over here, but wasn't for sure," she told him. "Yeah, it's me," he replied without emotion. "It sure is wonderful to see you. I always hoped that we'd meet up again someday," she confessed. "That makes one of us," he said, taking another pull from his bottle. "You can't possibly still be upset about the whopping I gave you back in high school. That was over ten years ago," she reminded him. "Hate is a hard emotion to overcome," he replied. "You hate me?" she asked. "I would have thought it would be obvious, oh, and while we are on the subject, twelve strokes of your cane across my barely covered ass, is hardly what any normal person would consider your average school punishment. You beat me, lady, don't even try to deny it," he sneered. "I admit I may have taken your punishment a bit further than I normally would have, but in my defense, you did confess to putting that snake in my drawer," she reminded him. "I had to tell you that," he told her. "Why?" she asked. "Because if I didn't, you would have made us lose the championship against North Valley," he said. "Was a stupid game really worth taking a caning over?" she asked. "I didn't give a fuck about the game, but saving Tony's life sure was," he replied hotly. "What are you talking about?" she asked. "Tony had already received a draft notice. The scholarship he earned that night was enough to give him a deferment. Did you know that Allen Green was scheduled to report for duty the same time Tony was. Chances are they would have been sent to the same unit as well. Allen's entire platoon was killed off in an attack two months after his deployment. Tony credits me for saving his life. I don't necessarily agree with him, but am not so sure he is wrong about it, either," Derek explained. "But I never even suspected Tony of doing anything. I always figured it was Dan Spencer," she said. "It sure didn't feel like you thought it was Dan all along," Derek complained. "I was trying to get you to confess to covering up for him, but you were too damn stubborn," she stated. "You could have beat me till I passed out, which you damn well nearly did, and I still wouldn't have squealed," he said. "I know. I even bumped into Dan a few years back, and he told me that you were innocent," she replied. "Yeah, Dan said he saw you. When he found out I was going to take the blame he wanted to confess right away, but I begged him not to," Derek told her. "He admitted to me that he felt guilty and said he wanted to say something right after the game, but you told him that he shouldn't give the bitch the satisfaction of beating the both of you," Mrs. Murphy replied. "I do believe those may have been my exact words," Derek admitted. "I still don't get why you would want to protect Dan. The two of you obviously were not that close?" she asked. "As good of a quarterback as Tony was, he never would have been able to win without Dan's help," Derek confessed. "I don't understand. You had no way of knowing that Tony would have been offered a scholarship that night," she said. "Are you really that naive? I am a stock broker, Mrs. Murphy. I have always played the law of averages. We were highly favored to win that game. Only a fool would be stupid enough to believe that there wouldn't be scouts in the attendance that evening," he exclaimed. "Do you have any regrets," she asked. "Well, I still hate you for what you did to me, but I reckon my godchildren were worth it," Derek said honestly. "What are you talking about now?" she wanted to know. "I am godfather to Tony and Miranda's two children," he answered. "So what are you doing here," she asked, trying to change the subject. "Celebrating, my divorce became final today," he admitted. "Oh, I'm sorry," she said. "Why, were you screwing my ex, too? It seems like she was fucking everyone else," he stated hotly. "Maybe, what was her name?" she flippantly questioned. "Debra Ann," he answered back in a half leer. "Look, I know what it's like to get cheated on. I first found out my ex was stepping out on me just before that incident back in school. Discovering it may have even been part of the reason I took your punishment as far as I did," she admitted. "That is still no excuse. Did you know that the school nurse wanted to report you for abuse, but Principal Denials wouldn't hear of it," he asked. "We lived in a different time back then," she said. "How unfortunate for me," he replied. "Yes, I suppose it was," she told him. The pair sat in awkward silence, each lost in their own thoughts. "Why are you here tonight?" he asked, not really caring, but unsure of what else to say. "Celebrating, just like you, today would have been my 25th wedding anniversary," she told him. "Would have been?" he questioned. "Yeah, I finally divorced the cheating bastard five years ago," she admitted. "I guess we are both a pair of losers, then," he remarked. "It certainly looks that way," she agreed. After finishing the remainder of her drink, Joyce turned to her former student. "Do you want to sleep alone tonight," she asked. "I had planned on it," he blankly replied. "How would you like to live out every schoolboy's fantasy?" she wanted to know. "I haven't been a schoolboy in years, and you stopped being my fantasy after the caning," he told her. "Be that as it may, I have no intention of going home by myself. I am taking someone to my bed tonight. It might as well be you," she said. Derek couldn't deny he was tempted. He hadn't been with a woman since discovering his wife cheating on him over nine months ago. "That probably wouldn't be a very good idea," he finally said. "Why, did your ex-wife leave you with a STD?" she teased. "No, the test results came back negative," he answered truthfully. "Well, since I am clean as well, there is really nothing preventing us from enjoying each other's company for the next few hours, is there?" she asked. "Even if I agreed with you, it would not change anything," he warned. "I didn't expect it to," she told him. Since the two of them had been drinking, Joyce ended up following him back to his place as it was closer than her own. Their pairing that evening was not romantic or loving, nor did they live out any school room fantasy either of them may have had. It was simply two lost souls using each other's bodies as a means to escape the emptiness that lonely nights like these can dredge up. Derek was quite relieved to find her gone the next morning, as he realized his previous statement had been accurate, their night together hadn't changed anything. Over the next few months Derek put Joyce of his mind. She never left a note, and he didn't have any means of contacting her anyway, not that he ever wanted to in the first place. She simply didn't matter to him. He was sitting in his office, just getting ready to leave for the evening, when his secretary said that he had an urgent call on line two. Hello, is this Mr. Derek Jones?" the voice asked. "Yes, whom am my speaking with?" he inquired. "Mr. Jones, this is Sarah from Spring Valley Hospital. Do you know a Mrs. Joyce Murphy?" she asked. "Yes, I am familiar with Mrs. Murphy. Why do you ask?" he wanted to know. "Sir, I am sorry to inform you that Mrs. Murphy has been in a rather serious car accident. She is in critical condition, and her chance of survival does not look favorable. She has been asking for you, and said that you worked as a stock broker. I'm afraid it has taken quite a while to hunt you down, but she is still holding on, thought just barely. " Derek debated with himself whether or not to go to the hospital that evening. In the end he felt he owed it to himself to hear what she might have to say. Reluctantly, he finally made his way to her room. "I wasn't sure you would come," she told him in a weak voice, almost a whisper. "I nearly didn't. I couldn't figure out why you would call me," he questioned. "I don't have anyone else. My parents have been gone for years, Jim and I never had any children, and he sure wouldn't care if I lived or died," she explained. "And you think that I do?" he asked flatly. "For some reason, I believe you do," she answered. "You should save your strength," he told her, wanting to avoid wherever this conversation was headed. "What for? I am going to die anyway. It won't matter if I hang on a few extra minutes," she replied. "Alright, if you want to talk, I'm listening," he told her. "I'm sorry for punishing you like I did. You were always one of my best students up until you admitted to putting the snake in my drawer. I was dealing with my husband's infidelity at the time, and looked on your confession as just another betrayal of the male species. Had I not been going through that whole ordeal, I am sure that your punishment would have been less severe. I probably still would have used my cane on you , though," she admitted. "And I would have hated you for it," he told her. "I know. You always were one to hold a grudge," she sighed. When her breathing became more strenuous she turned to Derek. Her final words a plea for forgiveness. Reaching over, he gently used the palm of his hand to close her eyes before bending down and placing a lasting kiss upon her forehead. As he moved to leave the room he turned back, with a single tear streaming down his cheek he whispered to her lifeless corpse "I'm sorry, Mrs. Murphy, I just can't do that." Grudge Fuck Preface: I have always believed you should love a person, or at least, like them, before engaging in sexual intercourse. On one occasion however, I learned the rich rewards of carnal animosity. "Hi. This is Laureen. Remember me?" the voice on the phone chirped. Although it had been a good five years since I last saw her, it took me about a millisecond to make the connection. The name instantly summoned up the image of a tall, rather thin, curly-headed blond in a dress that exposed a great deal of decent leg. Laureen had attended a vocational school where one of the courses taught people how to build stringed instruments. She had enrolled and by the end of the school year, had built a guitar... almost. Unfortunately, she was unable to finish it within the allotted time limit. Before being playable, the guitar first required a few crucial operations performed on it. A mutual friend had suggested that Laureen hire me do the work, since he knew I was competent to complete it. He explained the whole situation to me over the phone and I accepted the project. He dropped off the unfinished instrument the next day. A couple of weeks later, the work had been completed and I gave her a call. The day Laureen came to pick it up, my friend, Dan, happened to be visiting. She strummed a few chords while sitting on the couch, finally able to play her creation for the first time. "It's a pretty nice sounding guitar, considering it's your first," I told her. She seemed quite pleased with it. As she focused on her fingers, Dan and I focused on the view. We ogled her long legs, nicely displayed in a short skirt made shorter by the act of sitting. I almost laughed out loud when Dan mimed stuffing his tongue back into his head with his fingers. After paying me for my work, Laureen left. We watched from the window, enjoying one final glimpse as she walked to her car. Before getting there, however, she dropped her keys and bent over to reveal flowered panties that stretched tightly across her bulbous ass. For some reason, I suspected she knew we were watching. She sat down in the driver's seat and swung her right leg into the car while leaving her left foot on the pavement-- just long enough for us to grab a good look at her camel toe. As the car pulled away Dan confessed, "If the show had been any longer I'd be in your bathroom right now." "Stay out of my bathroom," I advised. A few weeks later I received an email from Laureen thanking me again for the good job I did on her guitar. She said she loved being able to tell people that "I built it all by myself". I wrote back thanking her for thanking me (?!) and that I thought she was a lovely woman. Five years later Ms. Legs was on the phone. "Yes, I remember you," I replied. "Do you still do guitar work?" she asked. "Yes I do", I answered, feeling that there may be reason to live after all. "What do you have?" "Nothing major, I think my guitar just needs a little adjustment," she answered. "It's getting a kind of hard to play." "Sure, I can take a look at it." We agreed on a day we both had free and made a date that I could examine her instrument. At the appointed time, I happened to see her car pull up and watched as she approached my door. I don't believe I would have recognized her. She was still reasonably attractive, but her hair was now dark and she had put on a bit of weight in five years. She was wearing a longer dress this time, displaying a pair of rather chubby knees. Don't get me wrong, I like women with some meat on their bones. It was just that the change was rather striking. The guitar work was an easy ten minute job that was performed while she waited. Afterward she asked what she owed me. I said, "It was nothing, no charge." "Won't you please let me give you something?" she insisted. "You could have a drink with me," I smiled. "Sure," she smiled in return. It was a pleasant day. We sat on the deck with our drinks, exchanging small talk. I asked her if she had built any other instruments since graduating. I was not surprised to hear she hadn't. Building a guitar is a long, complex project and she had come to me for a fairly easy adjustment. Again, Laureen said she really loved impressing people with the fact that she had built the guitar. She went on to add that she had moved to Kentucky after graduation and was in the area only for another week visiting friends and family. "I never forgot your email where you said that I was a lovely woman. That was very nice, thank you." We had another drink as our talk turned less superficial and a bit flirty. I showed her my new digital camera and took a few photos of her. She seemed to enjoy posing for me and at one point, pulled the straps of her dress down to bare her shoulders. It exposed a little cleavage as well. Feeling the drinks, she shared a little story about meeting a couple of delivery men at her front gate one day, wearing only a t-shirt and nothing else. She said it was pretty short and barely covered the goods. "After I turned to walk into the house, I could feel their eyes all over my ass," she recounted with a naughty twinkle in her eye. Hmm... a tease. I believe I felt something below my belt move. Laureen said she had decided to go back to college and get her Ph.D. She had been out of college for quite a few years and I asked what prompted her return. With a wicked gleam in her eye she explained, "I want to get a very important job somewhere so I can order lots of people around and make the men under me squirm." What a noble motivation to seek higher learning, I thought sarcastically. This girl had some issues. My good sense told me to get this woman the hell out of my house, but my extremities said, "not so fast Einstein, we have needs too." As with other men (of the male persuasion), I find that once the love lizard is awakened it's difficult to get him back into the cage. Back in the kitchen, while I made our third drink, she said, "I really wish you would take something for your work." In my head, Mr. Johnson whispered, "A blow job! A blow job!" "I'll take a hug, if you can spare one," I replied, thinking that this might be a good starting point. "Sure", she said without hesitation, the liquor aiding significantly to the lubrication of our sexual tensions. As I put my arms around her I caught the faint, pleasant scent of her perfume. The hug lingered on and on, neither of us wishing to break it off. I turned my head and buried my nose in her long, curly brown hair. Then magically, our lips connected. It was a long, wet kiss that was punctuated by brief parting and rejoining. Later, tongues became involved. As my usual routine dictated, I slid my hands down her back and onto her ass. It was still as bulbous as it was five years ago, but now it also possessed additional width. Again, the fabric stretched tightly across her butt, only now it was in a bigger dress. I kneaded and cupped it below her fleshy cheeks. While our lips were locked, I started inching her dress up. When I got it up to her ass she said, "Wait a minute, I've got to remove something." This sounds interesting I thought. "It's kinda embarrassing... I'm wearing a girdle." I smiled, "You can take it off in the bathroom upstairs." She disappeared up the stairs. A minute later, I followed and stepped into the spare bedroom. When I heard the bathroom door open, I called out, "You can come in here Laureen." She entered with a small stack of unmentionables as well as her pantyhose. We embraced again, taking up where we had left off. In no time, I had her dress unzipped and in a heap around her ankles. I discovered she had also removed her bra in the bathroom. Her breasts were a little larger than average and had just the right amount of hang, a good indication of the all-natural boob. She must have been aroused because her nips were very hard. They had constricted to the size and shape of gumdrops. I couldn't resist immediately tasting one. She sighed a bit as I wandered her hills, licking, tweaking, and lightly biting as I roamed. I laid her down on the bed and pulled off my pants. I situated myself between her legs and dry-humped her crotch with the bulge in my underwear. When she started to moan I got up and slowly pulled off her panties, exposing a substantial growth of rich brown pubes. It was obvious that this lawn had never seen a mower. I laid down next to her and ran my fingers through the bumper crop. My social finger slurped its way inside her gaping wet muff. I went down on her and licked her clit. Before long, she was squealing and grunting. She especially liked it when I inserted a finger while I lapped. If I worked my finger just right I could make her pussy emit a farting noise. I don't think she liked that because she twisted a bit and looked a little embarrassed whenever it blurted. Of course this only encouraged me to try for even more volume. When it appeared she was on the verge of an orgasm I stopped. I kneeled over her chest and rubbed my cock between her tits as she held them together. She grabbed my cock and brought it to her lips. First she licked the underside and then teased me with light licks all over. Finally, she wolfed it down almost all the way, skillfully sucking it like a pro. Whenever she got tired, I provided the movement, feeding her the same meal of wiener again and again. I eased my way down again until I was lying between her legs. I guided my erection with one hand and used it to massage her slit, making sure that her clitoris got its share of contact. She was so wet my cock made sloshing noises in the hairy rain-forest. She was getting impatient and started thrusting her midsection, trying to snag junior in her womb. As I placed the head just inside I said, "Wait... I need to ask you something first." Suddenly distracted from vagina feeding time, she blinked, "What? What is it?" With junior at attention and waiting patiently at the portal to pleasure, I spoke, "I'm sorry to ask this now but, are you married?" I could have easily asked her an hour ago, but this seemed infinitely more fun. Taken aback, she admitted that she was, and gave the quickest historical summary of her crappy marriage and worthless husband that she could muster; hoping to quickly get back to the cock at hand. "Gee" I feigned concern, "I don't think this is right. I've never made love to someone else's wife before." "Just put it in, we can talk about it later." "But I have to think about this. You don't want to do something stupid, do you?" I asked naively. "That's my problem. Are you going to put it in or not?", she asked impatiently and made a lunge with her hips. I pulled back, successfully avoiding her slurping me inside. "Gee, I wouldn't want to contribute to the breakup of anyone's marriage" I said nobly. "Fuck me, you asshole!" she seethed. "But do you really think we should rush into something that we can't undo." "You fucking prick!" she fumed grabbing my ass, trying to force me inside. I almost expected her to start punching me. "Okay, okay" I finally conceded. "But when you tell your husband about this, just make sure he knows that I was totally against it," I said, trying to keep a straight face. Laureen just ignored the last comment. Then I added, "Maybe if I put it in just a little way it won't be so bad". I began easing it in very slowly and stopped about halfway. I had to summon every bit of self-control not to drive it home. Totally frustrated, she growled "God-dammit!" through clenched teeth. Raising her sturdy legs up and around my waist, she pulled me down hard, driving my cock all the way in, almost knocking the wind out of me in the process. Secretly, I was as relieved to be inside and wasted no time pounding away on a hole that I was fairly certain had seen its share of traffic. With every stroke, her gumdrop-topped breasts jostled back and forth on her chest like half-filled water balloons fastened to a board. She emitted some eccentric but sincere oinks and grunts. I was just happy she didn't do a hokey porn-queen squeal, like the ever-popular, "Oh, oh, fuck my hot, little pussy." I often thought that if I ever heard that or some similar shtick, I would probably lose my erection. I much preferred "Fuck me, you asshole." At least you knew it was genuine. I rolled her over. She knew the routine, up on your hands and knees, it's doggy time. When I grabbed two handfuls of meaty hip, the guys at work came to mind. Whenever the subject of asses came up, someone would invariably quote the ancient goof-ball wisdom: a big butt gives you "more cushion for the pushin'". Then I noticed something... no tan lines. She was tan all over. I pictured Laureen lying nude in her yard back in Kentucky, exhibiting her goods for the delivery guys or anyone else who happened by for that matter. "Oooh, don't look at me, I'm naked! Here, let me wrap this towel around me. Yes, I can sign for the package. Ooops, I dropped my towel... Oh well... could you rub some oil on me? Oh, that feels good... Want a cool drink?" After growing weary of pushin' the cushion, I pulled out and laid on my back. Without a word she jumped on top and guided Mr. Stiffy through the thick, curly underbrush and into her dank cave. Ah, the lazy man's method; lay back, hands behind the head and enjoy the view. Judging by her ample repertoire of movements and positions, this girl obviously loved the pipe. She even threw in a reverse cowgirl without being prompted. She had great vagina control too. The tension and release technique she used in riding my hard-on was absolutely masterful in its execution. Fornication can only reach this level of virtuosity through countless hours of practice. I assumed her orgasm was imminent by her gaping mouth and oblivious expression. I too, was approaching the point of no return. As soon as the words "I'm coming" left her lips, I shot my sauce deep within her quaking belly. "Uh, uh, uh" she repeated until her spasms subsided. She laid panting against my chest as my shrinking wiener marinated in the squish. "Mother of pearl, that was good," she breathed out. Apparently her annoyance with me fifteen minutes earlier was forgotten. As she raised herself up and off of me, a great glob of jizz and muff-honey mixture fell out of her and onto my stomach and pubic hair. "Oops. I'll go get some toilet paper," she said. Laureen left the room cupping her genitals with one hand lest more gravy leak out onto to the carpet. She came back, and sitting down on the edge of the bed, sopped up the mess. "You have a big head." she said out of the blue. "Nonsense," I replied, "I wear a seven and a quarter hat, which is an average-sized head." "No, not that head!" she corrected me. "Oh?" "Your cock's head. Of all the ones I've seen, yours is quite large." I was going to ask her for a rough estimate of how many cock heads she had seen but she immediately launched into a story about a guy she had once dated. "He had a very small dick. It was really small." "How small?" I asked. "About the size of my thumb." she laughed. "How was sex?" "It wasn't very good. I dumped him right after that. I ran into him again one night in a bar and he pissed me off. He was with a bunch of his friends and hinted around that he had dated me. I said, "Yeah, and do you remember when I kept having to ask if you were in yet? And then I left. Oh that was sweet! I could still hear his friends laughing their asses off from outside the bar." The nerve of this dude wasting Laureen's time with the dick nature had given him. Actually, I felt sorry for the guy. This girl is nasty I thought. And I didn't mean in the good way. "Hey, your nips are still hard," I noticed out loud. "They're like this all the time." She said. "Really? All the time?" "Yeah, they're an attention-getter. They've also gotten me in trouble a few times" she said with a lewd grin. "Ha. Are you cold, or are you glad to see me?" I kidded her. "I'm glad to see you baby." Then, after a ten second pause, she says, "So... when are you gonna fuck me again?" "Wow, give me a little time to recharge my batteries. Okay? I just hope I didn't spend both nuts." "Okay, but I can't stay too much longer" she said and started trying to resuscitate Droopy with some mouth to mouth. The more I got to know this spiteful woman the more I disliked her. She definitely had some sort of man agenda. She also wasn't about to let a little passive aggression come between her and some hard salami. In my mind, we probably should have parted company long ago but I guess the little guy was running the show today. Though junior may have a 'big head', he was not particularly known for his brains or good judgement. After a minute or two, Laureen's mouth started filling up with my magically-expanding meat. I grabbed the back of her curly head and guided it up and down on my wand. Faster and faster her noggin bobbed until it occurred to me that, just maybe, I could climax in her mouth. Not knowing how she felt about jism drinks, I decided to hold off on that for time being. I had her get on top again because... well... just because junior said so. Those permanently-hardened nipples danced on her chest entertainingly as she stirred her innards vigorously upon the cock that was presently in her. Laying under her motionless, it occurred to me that my involvement wasn't all that necessary for her to meet her ends. If I had a magazine handy, perhaps I would read it. And then I could look up, annoyed when making me lose my place by announcing her next orgasm. Back in the real world, she pounded away, working up a good sweat until her entire body was as shiny as the Oscar I would give her for the portrayal of a decent human being. She drove that raging cunt with a vengeance; clenching, releasing, and jerking poor, defenseless junior. I swore she was trying to rub it raw or worse yet, grasp it tightly enough in her vaginal jaws to rip it from my body. I imagined a bloody red mass dangling from her bush with strands of ganglia still connected to my balls as I screamed in horror. Laureen's pace quickened. "Come on" she panted, "Don't just lie there you bastard. Help me cum." I planted my feet on the bed and lunged my pelvis at her while she was in the up position. We slammed together as she was coming down. Again and again I rose up: slam, slam, slam. "Harder, you fuck!" she ordered. "You're sweet," I puffed, wishing that junior was suddenly a foot taller. "Uh, uh, uh," she gasped. It was loud enough that I was afraid the neighbors might think I was choking someone. I'm not sure who was more relieved when she finally climaxed. Mercifully, the histrionics faded. "That's some sweet meat!" she exclaimed. "Didya cum?" "Not yet." "Well, get on the stick Bucko. I've got to hit the road real quick here," she said in a voice dripping of impatience and condescension. I said, "Okay," as we exchanged places. On top, I considered calling it quits. I was not sure whether junior had the endurance to go on, much less, the nuttly liquids required. Her face was encircled by a mane of little brunette corkscrew curls, appropriately tousled by an afternoon of debauchery. The tender feelings I nearly experienced evaporated when I caught her checking her watch behind my back. I vainly tried to think up some orgasm-producing thoughts. "Talk dirty to me," I said, lamely, determined to speed the process. "Fuck my hot, little pussy," she lied. Shit!, I thought, feeling my hose contract a bit. In an attempt to erase her sorry porn script from my mind, I thought about other things-- sexy things, like all the nice women I knew. The ones who actually liked the men they fucked. Unfortunately, words from today's conversation with Laureen kept intruding rudely... I thought about her future Ph.D., or rather her license to make unfortunate underlings dance and grovel. I thought about the needless humiliation of her thumb-dicked boyfriend and I thought about her cuckold husband. Grudge Fuck Valiantly, junior held on and actually began to make a comeback. He was developing an agenda of his own. Then surprisingly, he was full-sized again, his big head held high and swollen with rage. I felt the call to arms deep within my nut sack and a building of pressure. "Uh, uh, uh," I mocked. "Oh baby," she lied again, looking at her watch, only this time in front of me. I pummeled the great coffee-colored triangle with abandon. Cradling her head in my hands, I drew my lips to her ear and softly whispered, "Suck on me." "Yeah, okay" she conceded, probably thinking it would hurry things along and she could be quickly on her way. I stood at the side of the bed and watched her swallow junior down. I felt a hot torrent of lust well up inside, as the baloney ballet quickly approached its finale. Yes, yes, I was going to shoot my load down her throat, ready or not. The time was now. Here it comes! I reached for the back of her head to hold it securely so as to not let her pull away and spill a precious drop of my delicious nectar. But without warning, she pulled throbbing junior out of her mouth and announced, "Just don't cum in my mou..." Just as her lips opened to make the 'ow' sound in "mouth", a hard stream of hot ejaculate blasted over her tongue with enough force to splatter the back of her throat. As she raised her head to cough, another jet went up her left nostril and totally covering the end of her nose. Coughing and sputtering, she turned her head away from me as the third spurt placed a long white string on the back of her head. There were a couple of subsequent dribbles that landed in her lap, but the major damage was done. I was surprised that I had been able to summon such a load so soon after tossing off the first one. When Laureen turned to me, the great blob of goo on the end of her nose had elongated and was swinging back and forth. It was impossible to stifle a chuckle and the sense of achievement surely showed on my face. "You asshole!" she declared sincerely, wiping the jizz from her nose and lips. "Why did you come on my face?" "Because you pulled it out of your mouth," I reasoned. "You asshole," she repeated. "I gotta go." She went to the bathroom briefly, pulled on her clothes and headed for the door. Following behind her, I saw that she had missed the string of cum that was still draped in her hair like tinsel on an evergreen tree. Surprisingly, she reached out to hug me goodbye. I did, but carefully avoided disturbing her 'decoration'. "I'll email ya later" she said. "Okay," I replied, amazed that she had forgotten to say "asshole" at the end of her goodbye. I was pretty sure I would never see or hear from her again, and that was just fine by me. Grudge Fucking Savannah Her name was Savannah, and she was just kind of a ditz. She was a bit stuck up and had this sense of entitlement because she grew up in a well-off family and men had always given her all the attention she could ever ask for. She was fairly tall, maybe 5'8 or 5'9, and had a slender, lithe body from all the yoga she did. I met her at my restaurant. She was a cocktail waitress, and received plenty of attention from the drunk, horny men she served. They would heap gobs of money at her in tips, as if leaving a 100% tip meant they'd get a blowjob in the bathroom before they left. All the money she made because of her looks just re-enforced her bitchy attitude. She thought she could get anything she wanted from any man just by being cute and flirty...that is, until she met me. It was the end of the night. I was the last one to leave out of all the back of the house employees, and as per usual, one bartender and one cocktail server were still there closing. Turns out they were both drinking while they were closing, and as Savannah walked past me, I could smell the alcohol. "Are you drinking on the clock?!" I asked rhetorically as I stared at her yoga pants-covered ass walk away from me. "No," she replied as she looked over her shoulder and flashed an "Of course I am!" smile at me. God, I hated that bitch. She thought she could break any rule she wanted and flirt her way out of it. "Just like you weren't just staring at my ass." She disappeared into the server alley and then headed downstairs, presumably to finish checking out. After a few minutes, I also headed downstairs. I had to lock up the coolers downstairs and put away some paperwork. I made one last sweep through the coolers, and lo and behold, there was Savannah in the walk-in cooler, a cocktail in one hand and a half-eaten steak in a to-go box that had her name in girly script written across it. Now she was stealing food AND openly drinking?! IN MY WALK-IN?! She immediately had the deer in headlights look. She knew she was caught, and when I raised my voice and yelled, "WHAT THE FUCK, SAVANNAH?!", she just kind of grinned sheepishly and muttered, "Sorry, Chef." When she realized how pissed I was, she grew a bit more concerned. "You're not going to try to get me fired, are you?" she retorted with her trademark bitchy tone. "Well, that depends on you. I won't need to TRY to get you fired. You're stealing food and drinking on the clock. That's enough to get you fired from any job," I explained in my sarcastic, "You're a fucking idiot" voice. "Well, are you almost done? Because I'm about to leave, and if you want, I can come by your place to convince you that I don't deserve to be fired," the little slut just suggested she'd fuck me to keep my mouth shut. "Let me get this straight, you'll fuck me if I don't tell anyone?" I was half-amazed she'd be so forward and half-insulted she thought her pussy could get her out of this. "I might even suck your dick," came her slutty matter-of-fact response. I pulled out the notepad I always keep in my back pocket, quickly jotted down my address, and shoved the piece of paper down the front of her shirt and into her bra in one fluid motion. "If you're not at my house in an hour, you don't have a job tomorrow. Don't show up wearing panties." Fast forward about 45 minutes, and I'm getting out of the shower back at my place. I had spent almost every minute since I had left work thinking about what a fucking self-absorbed bitch Savannah was, but damn, she did have a tight fucking body. Five minutes later and my doorbell rings. As I approach the door, I see Savannah through the window next to the door. It was obvious she had changed out of her work clothes and her hair was damp. She must've taken a shower. As I opened the door, she flashed a flirty smile, batted her eye lashes at me, and greeted me with a slightly drawn out, "Heeeey, Chef." I wasted no time. I grab her wrist, pulled her inside, slammed the door behind her, and pushed her back against it. This caught her off guard and the look on her face showed me she slightly startled. I roughly shoved my hand down the front of her skin tight jeans, "Don't tell me you put on panties, slut." As my fingers felt underneath the front her jeans, I felt nothing but skin. I also immediately noted she was completely hairless. She gasped audibly at the rough handling I was giving her, but didn't protest. "Get on your fucking knees," I commanded. I didn't raise my voice, but my demanding tone let her know I wasn't kidding. She complied, and a moment later she was even reaching inside my boxers, looking for my cock. What a good little whore. I pushed her back against my front door once again, and before she even knew what was going on, my half-hard dick was in her mouth. I grabbed a handful of hair and began stroking her mouth. Both of her hands made their way to my hips as she tried to slow the onslaught of my dick throat-fucking her, but I quickly grabbed both her wrists, easily over-powered her and pinned her arms against the door above her head. I shoved my cock as deep down her throat as I could and enjoyed the sounds of her gagging as the tears started to come to her eyes. Watching her make up run down her cheeks as she helplessly got mouth fucked made my cock insanely hard. To her credit, she had quite the inviting little cock sucking mouth. Any woman who can get nearly all seven inches of my dick down her throat before struggling is impressive. I decided to be merciful and pulled my dick from her mouth. She gasped for air the first moment she could, and breathlessly struggled to speak. "Please...", she could barely get the words out, "please...fuck me." Now how could I turn down such a reasonable request? I let go of her wrists, stepped to the side with my fingers still gripping a handful of hair. "Crawl to the couch," I stated as I pointed in the correct direction. My obedient little slut instantly followed my orders as I guided her by her hair to the couch. As we reached the side of the couch, I pulled her to her feet by her hair, she yelped and winced in pain and quickly found herself bent over the arm of the couch. I let go of her hair and attacked her jeans. She knew what was coming and even helped me get her pants off. The moment her jeans had made their way past her toned little ass cheeks, my open palm came crashing down on her exposed flesh. Another yelp emanated from her mouth and her entire body tensed momentarily. "Shut the fuck up, slut!" I yelled as another open palm struck her other cheek. Her ass reddened almost instantaneously, but she didn't fight me. She just grabbed the couch cushions, looking for some kind of moral support from the inanimate object. I looked down between her cheeks and saw the unmistakable glistening of a wet pussy. It looked quite inviting so I grabbed my cock and lined it up to the damp little entrance. I reached forward, twirled my fingers into her hair, gripping near her scalp, as I shoved the tip of my dick into her wet pussy. She inhaled sharply at the combined pain of getting her hair pulled and the pleasure of having her sensitive snatch filled. Damn, she was tight. And wet. I guess she liked having her throat fucked. I grabbed her arm and pinned her wrist to her lower back as I shoved the rest of my rigid dick inside her well-lubricated cunt. She started moaning loudly as my thrusts grew faster. Her juices were coating my cock and there was girl cream pouring from inside her. I started pulling nearly completely out of her and then slamming back into her. She was now half-moaning, half-whining at my pounding thrusts and I could feel her try to pull away from me slightly, trying hopelessly to get me to ease up. That wasn't going to happen. Her hips were pinned to arm of the couch, and I had a firm grip of her hair and right arm. Her tight little pussy was just going to have to accept every deep, pounding stroke my dick was going to give her. Her moans and gasps of combined pleasure and pain grew so loud it started to annoy me, so while I kept deeply plowing into her, I used the grip I had on her hair to bury her face in the couch and muffle her screams. She was going to remember this fuck tomorrow. I let go of her wrist just so I could go back to making her ass even more red. I was pounding into her so hard, the couch started to move, little by little, across the hardwood floor. Another open palm to her left ass cheek, and another squeal of pain and surprise muffled by the couch. Her pussy gripped my cock as her body tensed from the strike to her ass. Damn, that felt good. Lets try that again. Another palm to her right cheek and again, her body reflexively tightened and her pussy clamped down on my dick. That had me near the edge. This little slut was taking a terrible pussy pounding and my cock was ready to explode. A few more deep, pounding thrusts and I was unloading all my anger inside her tight cunt. One last shove to the hilt, and my dick was creaming her insides. I took a moment to catch my breath before letting go of her hair and slowly removing my still half-hard dick from inside the depths of her poor, abused pussy. She didn't move. Her body still in shock from the assault my cock had just given her. A few moments passed and she slowly turned to face me. Her eyes were red and her hair was disheveled. She had never looked better to me. I grabbed her arms and pulled her back to her knees. My hands went on either side of her head and I pushed my cock back into her face. I uttered one word to her, "Suck." She opened her mouth and let my pussy-soaked cock between her lips. This time, I simply let her taste herself. No throat fucking necessary, having to taste her own juices on a cock that was just pounding her mercilessly was humiliating enough. She diligently cleaned off my dick with her tongue and it only took a minute or two before I was returning to full mast. "Stand up," I told her. Her knees wobbled, and she had to use the side of the couch to steady herself in order to get on her feet. I turned her shoulders until she was facing my bedroom and I pointed to the door. "Walk," I let her know exactly which way to go. I followed closely behind as her hands touched the walls the entire way, still trying to steady herself. The poor girl could barely move without assistance. As we got into the room, she found the bed and collapsed face first. My erect cock wasn't through with her yet, but I decided to let her have a moment to rest. She was going to need it... I went into the bathroom and found the bottle of lube. There was one hole I had yet to fill, and I wanted this venture into grudge fucking Savannah to be complete. I walked back into the bedroom and she lifted her head from the bed as I approached. She squinted her eyes to see what I was carrying. I showed it to her. "Your ass is next," I told her, letting her know my intentions. A look of concern came over her face, and I stroked her cheek to comfort her slightly. "Don't worry, I won't pound your ass nearly as hard," I said in a half-mocking tone. From the night stand I pulled out the padded handcuffs I kept nearby for little sluts just like this one. I positioned her body on her knees with arms reaching out to the headboard. I placed the cuffs around one wrist and then her hands around the bed post, before cuffing the second wrist. I wanted her to know I was in complete control. I moved back down to her cherry red ass and found her most taboo of sexual openings. I applied lube to my cock and then to her tiny asshole, wanting to make sure her tight backdoor would relent to my cock. She groaned, visibly hesitant about what was about to happen, but she didn't protest. "Have you ever had a cock in your ass before?" I questioned before lining my cock up to. "Y-yes," she replied weakly. "Good, then you know that you need to not fight me. Just open up and let me in," I instructed her. I placed the tip of my cock to the opening of the last hole I wanted to conquer. Her ass was glistening with lube and her entire body had a sheen of sweat that turned me on even more. Her first loud groan came as the head of my cock started stretching open her ass. To her credit, she did as I said, and I could feel her muscles opening, not clamping shut in resistance. By the time the entire tip was in, I could feel how snug her ass was. This was going to be fun. I gave her a moment to get used to the size of the cock that was invading her before pushing more of my length into her. She shrieked, obviously caught off guard, and started to pull away from me. I grabbed her hips and held her in place. Her tight little asshole gripped me like a vice but I had applied enough lube that her body simply had to accept being filled to the rim with dick. In a matter of moments, my balls were pressed against her well-used cunt and my hips against her red ass cheeks. God, she had a tight ass. All that yoga had kept everything nice and snug, even if she did whore herself out. I started stroking her butthole, relishing the feeling around my cock, and the feeling of making this slut my little anal plaything. She was shrieking and gasping, unable to stop me from invading her anus. One of her legs lifted off the bed, trying to slow me down, but I held her in place and continued thrusting in and out of her backdoor. I couldn't wait to unload again. Her tiny ass felt divine around my rock hard dick and the guttural noises she made as her ass was repeatedly filled were like music to my ears. I wanted her to feel like a totally used whore. As I continued to stroke her tightest hole with deep, long thrusts, I looked down and absolutely fell in love with the view. Her small, but perfectly-shaped ass looked beautiful with my cock in it. The shimmering glow of her skin and the deep red color from getting her cheeks smacked was a sight to behold. Add in the squeezing grip of her sphincter and her painfully pleasured moans, and I was enjoying the hell out of myself. I wanted to remember this. I glanced at the night stand and noticed my phone, barely within arm's reach. I slowed my movements just long enough to grab the phone, open up the camera view, and snapped a few pictures of her delicious ass being skewered like a good little anal slut. At this point, she was so dick drunk, I don't think she even noticed. I knew I wouldn't last as long this go around. She gripped me too tightly, and I wasn't going to try to hold out. I wasn't trying to make her feel good, I was just trying to cum in her ass, to make her feel like the cheap slut she is. As the pressure started to build so did the pace of my strokes. I was once again pounding her and her tiny asshole had no choice but to relent. Her screams grew louder as I fucked her ass harder before she finally cried out, "OH MY FUCKING GOD!" That was it. I lost it. I came deep inside the recesses of her ass as my cock spasmed again and again, squirting my payload inside her. When I collected myself, I got up to clean myself in the bathroom. I brought her a glass of water and removed the handcuffs. Her face and hair were in disarray and she looked, well, she looked like I had just completely fucked the shit out of her. She seemed grateful for the water and I left the room to get her jeans that were on the floor next to the couch. I tossed them to her along with a towel to wipe the lube and cum dripping from her abused orifices and told her to get dressed. I led her back to the front door and escorted her out. After a few moments of gathering herself in her car and, I can only imagine a few thoughts along the lines of "What the fuck just happened?" she started her car and I watched the headlights disappear into the night as she drove away. A few minutes later, as I was lounging and enjoying my photography skills, my phone alerted me to a text message. "Hey Chef, maybe we can do that again sometime" read the text with some cheesy string of emojis. Maybe, slut. Maybe.