Creampie Stories

One Response to “71st Creampie Stories: The Babysitter”

1. Creampie
   March 9th, 2006 | 5:04 pm

   He walked to his side, and got into the driver’s seat. He turned and put his finger over his lips, then pressed the UNMUTE button on his in-vehicle speakerphone.

   “Mark? Still there?” he queried.

   “Yep.”

   “Sorry it took longer than I thought,” he said, dropping the vehicle into gear. “What’d you find out?”

   “Well, those are supposed to be our final drawings, and we are out of budget to do more,” Mark replied.

   “Now, listen Mark. I’m calling you because I’ve known you for a number of years. So this is a courtesy I’m giving you, OK?” We drove away from my house and down the street. “You’ve always done good work, but I’ve got a problem. The drawings you sent yesterday are shitty as hell. Things are in the wrong place, the clearances are all wrong. Hell, you are showing shit in the runway clear zone! I can’t show this crap to the owner.”

   I could almost hear Mark’s face getting red. Mine was getting red, just imagining what he was thinking.

   “Clem, I–”, Mark began to protest.

   “Mark, I respect you a lot, but I can’t accept this sloppy work,” Mr. Green said, cutting Mark off. “I’ve got a Tuesday deadline, and I need to know if you are gonna fix the drawings.” No one said anything for a few moments, then Mr. Green continued. “Here’s how it is. You need to fix these drawings, and the estimates, by Monday morning. If you don’t do it, I’ll yank you from the project and have my guys do it our selves. I can’t afford to pay you to do work and then we do it ourselves.”

   “Damn, Clem!” Mark blurted. “You got me in a serious bind. I run a small shop, and if I lose this job I’ll have to fire three good guys. These guys have families that depend on them. On the other hand, I don’t think we could get it done in time, even if we work around the clock all weekend.”

   “Are you saying you can’t do it?”

   “I don’t know that we can’t, but I don’t think I can promise you that we can.” Mark’s voice was filled with dread and anguish.

   We were coming up to a red light. As Mr. Green slowed down, he delivered an ultimatum. “Mark, I’ll be real honest to you. If you say you can’t do it, I’ll have to take you off the job. If you say you can do it, but don’t, I think we’re looking at liquidated damages. The only way you come out OK is if you do the job by Monday.”

   “Shit!” Mark exhaled. “Liquidated damages?”

   “I would think so,” Mr. Green said. His face was grim, so I knew ‘liquidated damages’ was a very bad thing. “I’m stopping at a traffic light. I need to know what you’re gonna do when the light turns green.” He looked in the mirror at me. “I’m putting you on MUTE until the changes.” He reached out and punched a button on his phone. “Sorry you have to hear this rough language,” he apologized.

   Rough language? All I’d heard was a few ’shits’ and ‘damns’, which was a lot milder than the ‘fucks’ and ‘dumbasses’ I heard every day. “That’s OK,” I said. “What’s a liquidated damage?”

   “It means we’ll sue him to recover the expenses that we incurred because of his screw up, and probably much more than that.” I still felt a little confused, and Mr. Green saw it. “It means he’ll probably lose the company.” Oh.

   The light turned green and Mr. Green punched the MUTE button again. “So what’s gonna be?” he asked Mark.

   “I think I need to try to make the Monday deadline, even if that means I’ll risk the company,” Mark said, sounding worried and resigned. “But, I’d rather lose my company than put three guys out of work without even trying to make it right.”

   For the first time, I saw Mr. Green smile. “That’s pretty ballsy Mark,” he said, his voice registering pleasure in his friend. “And it’s the right decision, too.”

   “I just hope we all think that Monday morning,” Mark said, his worry not at all diminished.

   “I think we will,” Mr. Green said confidently. “Tell you what. I’ll send my best guys to your office to help you. I think that together we can get it done.”

   “Really?” Mark asked, sounding suddenly hopeful.

   “Yeah, and I’ll even eat the expense myself. I like you Mark, and I’m looking forward to seeing you at your daughter’s wedding. How big an asshole would I be to show up after putting you out of business?” He looked in the mirror at me, and winked.

   “That is damn fine of you Clem!” Mark said.

   “Can you hold on while I check something?”

   “Sure!” Mark agreed.

   Mr. Green punched a button, then a couple more. In a few seconds, I heard a phone ringing. I supposed he had put Mark on hold and placed another call. “Hello?” a slightly Hispanic voice on the other end asked.

   “Hector?”

   “Yes. Is this Mr. G?”

   “Yeah. How’s the flight?”

   “Fine. I am glad we’re in First Class though. We can stretch our legs and maybe get some sleep on the way.”

   “First Class? That’s great. The agent wasn’t sure she’d be able to get you all in.”

   “Well, she did.”

   “Great,” Mr. Green said. “Listen, Mark agreed to redo the job, and he knows you’re coming. What time are you arriving, so I can have him pick you up?”

   “Mmmmm, the screen says we arrive at 3:35am,” Hector informed him.

   “Ouch! Well, I’ll have Mark pick you up. Call me when you get in OK?”

   “You sure?”

   “Yes, I’m sure,” Mr. Green said, sounding like he was putting his foot down. ” And I want us to pay for the food for the crew all weekend. OK?”

   “Will do. Hey, I need to go,” Hector said, and I could hear a smile in his voice. “The stewardess is finally here with our champagne.”

   Mr. Green rang off with Hector, then gave the information to Mark. He hung up as we pulled into his street, and I could see his shoulders visibly relax. I decided to let him wind down a little before we got to his house. “Sorry about making you listen to all that boring stuff,” he said as we pulled into the drive.

   “No prob,” I said cheerily. Mr. Green held the door for me as we walked into his house.

   He called out that he was home, and asked, “Lucy, ready to go?” Lucy was his wife.

   “Sure,” she said from behind us, startling us both. She had been standing in the kitchen, apparently. “Hi Jenny,” she said to me, a sweet motherly smile. “How do I look?” she asked him.

   “You look very nice,” Mr. Green enthused. And she did. She was wearing a black sheath dress and pearls that seemed to shine from within. She was wearing sophisticated black leather pumps, far higher than I had ever worn and with shiny silver tips to the heels. Her stockings were a nice match, finer than mesh but still coarse, with a line of silver beads up the back. Her dark brown hair was smooth and glossy, a very cute bob that was cut higher in the back than front, and curled slightly under. Within the shield of hair, I could see dangly pearl earrings that completed the outfit perfectly. Her makeup was very tasteful, but what my mom would call an “evening look”. I wondered if she had ever been a model, she was that beautiful.

   “You look great Mrs. Green,” I said, as she looked adoringly at her husband. She turned and smiled at me, her teeth a perfect row of white.

   “Thank you Jenny,” she said. She asked if I needed anything, and gave me some brief instructions. Then, turning back to Mr. Green, she asked, “Shall we go?” He nodded, and off they went.

   I got very busy then, taking care of the little ones. Nikki and Ryan weren’t darlings, but they weren’t monsters either. They were normal kids, despite what I understood was an affluent upbringing. Even so, I was glad when they went to bed without a huge fight. Then, I turned to my homework.

   Eventually, I got bored of that, and found my mind wandering. I thought of Chase, the guy who was pursuing me (and I was giving him reason to). He was nice enough, and not a dork like so many kids in my grade. Not very mature, but then all the boys in school were basically immature. Absently, I found myself comparing him to a grown man, and stacked him up to Mr. Green.

   The comparison wasn’t very kind. Mr. Green was old, but that was his only negative. Mr. Green was kind and held the door open for me. He was a gentleman. He obviously adored his wife. Chase ignored me in public even while sending me cute notes in private. Chase would have been able to carry my backpack, but not with the easy strength of Mr. Green. But the biggest difference was that Mr. Green was successful while Chase was still a kid. Mr. Green had power. I mean, he could fire an entire company and probably ruin it!

   I recalled the conversation I had heard. Suddenly, I sat upright as I remembered that Mr. Green’s man Hector was in flight before that Mark guy was offered Hector’s help. Gosh, Hector was in flight before Mr. Green even called Mark! My mind struggled with the implications. Mr. Green knew Mark would accept his offer to help. He was so confident, he had sent Hector in advance! Not only that, but he had wanted to help Mark save his company.

   I sat back, my insides filled with warmth. Mr. Green was a really nice guy. He controlled his power when he could have just as easily ruined someone. I thought of him as a gentle giant, a big teddy bear. That’s what all the indications were. Mrs. Green was lucky to have him.

   I got up and fixed myself a glass of water. Then I wandered around the big house, restless with my new emotions. I knew I was getting a crush on Mr. Green; I could feel it. I liked the feeling of having a crush, and didn’t want to give it up. I decided I would control it, but enjoy it too.

   In their entertainment center was a series of family photos. There were lots of photos of Mrs. Green, some from her days as a cheerleader (figures!). Lots of photos of the Nikki and Ryan. Not so many of Mr. Green. None were of him alone. Most of him also had Mrs. Green with him. They were a great looking couple.

   I wandered some more, eventually making it to their bedroom. At first, I was looking at the photos, but the cleanliness of the room (they must have a maid!) invited exploration. I tentatively went into a walk-in closet, finding it held only Mrs. Green’s clothes. There were expensive-looking dresses that I thought I recognized from fashion magazines. I’d die to try one on! She was nearly my size, although I guessed I was more athletic.

   Then I went into their bathroom, surprised to find a drying rack in their sunk-in tub. It was primarily used to dry hosiery, but some of her undies were there too. I chuckled, having found a spot of middle-class normalcy in the well-organized, elegant house.

   I saw too that on what I guessed was his vanity (razor blade, men’s cologne) was a picture of Mrs. Green. She was facing away on a beach, looking back over her shoulder at the camera as the wind blew her hair. She was also nude. With no suntan lines. I was amazed at her brazenness and her perfect body. Clearly, she wasn’t a stuffy old lady!

   I bent over to pick up the picture, when I heard a deep rumble. Evidently, their bath was over the garage, because it sure sounded like a garage door opening. I raced out of the bath and to the upstairs den, where I had been doing my homework.

   I began to nonchalantly collect my papers, trying to regain my papers and appear calm. In a minute, I wondered where they were, since they hadn’t come upstairs. I slung on my backpack and went stealthily downstairs. I began to fear the garage had been opened by robbers, and I didn’t want them to see me.

   I peeked into the kitchen, and my eyes went wide with what I saw. Mr. Green was behind Mrs. Green, pressing her over a counter. He was kissing her neck ravenously, and she was responding with her mouth open, eyes shut. I watched, dumbfounded, as he licked her neck, then kissed it. His hands were on her breasts, squeezing them possessively. This was a truly erotic sight, a man and woman enjoying themselves, but it wasn’t supposed to be seen by the babysitter!

   I softly backtracked, then came down the stairs loudly to announce my presence. By the time I got into the kitchen, there was nothing going on. Their red faces were the only sign I could see.

   “Were the kids OK?” Mrs. Green asked, her speech slurred.

   “They were great,” I responded, wondering if she had forgotten my presence because she had been drinking.

   Soon, Mr. Green was driving me home. His presence next to me was electric and I kept flashing back to the sight of Mrs. Green bent over the kitchen counter. I had to derail my train of thoughts.

   “Can I ask a question?” I queried.

   “Sure.”

   “How come your guy was already on the plane when you called that man?”

   Mr. Green chuckled. “Notice that did you?” he smiled. “Well, Mark Wilson is a good man and I couldn’t see putting a good guy like him out of business. There’s too many useless companies to ruin a decent one.” He paused to collect his thoughts. “I knew he was over his head, and I had two choices. I could either help him or I could destroy him. I’ll lose money on the job sending out my guys to help, but I also am helping a good guy and he’ll not make this mistake again. Its worth the money to have an experienced contractor.”

   “But that doesn’t explain how your guy was flying before the call,” I pointed out.

   “You’re right,” he said, chancing a look at me. “But I knew what Mark would say. I have faith in him.”

   My admiration for Mr. Green grew quite a lot. He was willing to risk quite a lot on his faith, and that sort of confidence was very attractive. Mr. Green was a good man, emphasis on ‘man.’ Not at all like the shallow guys like Chase that I knew.

   He dropped me off at my house, his voice rumbling a deep “Goodnight, Jenny, and thanks.” I hadn’t noticed how deep his voice was, but it seemed to reach my inner parts. He waited to drive away until I was inside, taking care to return me safely. I couldn’t help but look at his departing car until it was out of sight.

   I found it hard to fall asleep, and that night I had my first-ever erotic dream. It was about Mr. Green.

   I got what I call a “panic call” from Mrs. Green on Sunday. Mr. Green had left town to be with his team finalizing the plans, and she had a church meeting she had to attend. I agreed to come over, and she picked me up in the mid-afternoon. In contrast to her last look of complete sophistication, now she was clad in khaki shorts and a sporty collared T-shirt. Even in what seemed like a Sunday-casual dress, she had taken the time to apply light makeup and to do her hair, managing to seem stylish even when not dressing to impress.

   Making sure that Nikki and Ryan were occupied, I slipped away to the master bath. I wanted to see the picture Mr. Green looked at. Mrs. Green was lovely, and completely at ease. Even with close examination, bikini lines were not visible. There was a printed date on the bottom of the photo, indicating the picture was less than two years old. Wow! Her figure was that good even after having two kids. “She’ll be tough competition,” I told myself, realizing with a start that I was now thinking of her that way.

   Now feeling like a snoop, I noiselessly opened their vanity drawers. His only contained ordinary stuff, but hers also held a “Wahl wet/dry personal hair trimmer”. I blushed when I thought what that could mean. On the top shelf of their linen closet, I found an extra large jar of lubricant. It could have been left over from when the kids endured rectal thermometers, but I preferred to think it was for another, naughtier purpose. I had only a vague idea what adults did with the stuff, but those ideas were plenty dirty.

   The most astonishing find was hiding in plain sight. On the drying rack was Mrs. Green’s sexy hose. I picked them up, admiring them, and then noticed that they weren’t like ordinary pantyhose. These contained built-in garters, so that her crotch was left open. Putting the hose carefully back where I found them, I saw black panties that she would have worn, and they were still damp from washing. Picking them up, I saw that they were crotchless as well. I was thrilled to think that beneath the elegant clothing, Mrs. Green had been completely uncovered. Her crotch was available. My own crotch became damp as I thought about it. I wondered if she routinely was that daring, albeit secretly.

   Some time later, Mrs. Green returned and drove me home. We chatted about unimportant things, but I was memorizing everything about her. I knew Mr. Green found her desirable, and thought emulating her would be a good place to start if I wanted him to find me attractive.

   The next week, I was very busy with school work and soccer. Carefully, I explored with my girlfriends their feelings about older men. One admitted making out with a college guy, rapturously describing how much better kisser he was than the guys we normally kissed. One “heard from a friend” that older lovers were more demanding, but much more satisfying too.

   Only one of my friends, actually a member of the soccer team I knew slightly named Carol, frowned when the subject was broached. “Sure, they fuck great, for a while, but they always go back to their wives and forget about you,” Carol commented. I was shocked at her brazen choice of words, but concentrated on the fucking part while discounting the last part. I would only sleep with a man when I knew he was committed to me.

   Friday afternoon, I got a call from Mrs. Green. “Jenny, I know this is short notice, but what are you doing Sunday night?”

   “Um, nothing, I guess,” I replied. Immediately, I was thinking again about her ‘open attitude’ in dress.

   “Well, we have an extra ticket to the Rodeo. It’s the last night, you know, and George will be performing,” she replied. There was no need to tell me which George she was talking about. There is only one George. Then, she continued, “Clem and I were wondering if you’d like to go? We want to say thank you for helping out last Sunday.”

   “Wow?!” I thrilled. “Really?”

   “Yes,” she affirmed. I could hear her pleased smile over the phone.

   “Let me check with my folks. It’s a school night,” I reminded her. I checked with my mom, who only expressed envy before giving her OK. “My mom says it is OK,” I told Mrs. Green.

   “Great!” she replied. “We’ll go around 2PM and do the carnival and booths and have turkey legs. OK?”

   “This is so cool,” I said. “Thank you!”

   Immediately after hanging up, I ran to my closet to plan my wardrobe. I called my best friend Emma, and she came over to help me pick out clothes. Unfortunately, the last time I went to the rodeo was a couple years earlier. Since then, I had, um, filled out and none of my western clothes fit anymore. I could wear my mom’s boots if I double-socked, but for the rest I had to go to the mall.

   Mom let me use her credit card as an early birthday present. We hooked up with a couple other girls, and went to the mall. It was all picked over, so we went to the western store where the prices were higher but the selection was better. Emma was going to let me wear her hat, so I came out with a skin-tight pair of red Rocky Mountains jeans and a halter-style key-hole blouse that was popular. Emma and the girls told me the tight clothes showed off my athletic build and would attract plenty of attention. Really, though, the only attention I wanted was from Mr. Green.

   Mr. and Mrs. Green picked me up on time, and I looked great. I had carefully pinched my cheeks to give me a rosy wholesome look. My inside-out french braid was tight enough to hurt my scalp, but I knew it accentuated my looks. But the stopper was my clothes. They revealed enough of my body to be flirty without making me look slutty. I may have been dreaming, but I think I saw Mr. Green checking me out.

   I wasn’t totally oblivious to the second looks I got as we went through the carnival. I even earned a few whistles. Once, a boy slapped my butt with a bumper sticker that said “Hot Cowgirl”. I think it was a compliment. The biggest compliment was when Mr. Green faked a stop to look at some goods in the vendors area, then turned to watch me walk away. Good! He wasn’t impervious to my charms.

   At one point, we cruised through the food court. “Anything look good Jenny?” Mr. Green asked.

   “I’d like an ear of corn, Mr. Green,” I replied.

   Mr. Green looked at his wife before replying. “Jenny, Lucy and I are tired of you calling us Mr. Green and Mrs. Green. It makes us feel really old. Can’t you call us Lucy and Clem?”

   “I can if you want,” I hedged. I had only been trying to respect my elders as I had been taught.

   “Good,” smiled Mrs. Green. “I’m glad we got that settled finally.”

   The rest of the day went uneventfully. The rodeo was great; no one was killed and they awarded the “High Flyin’ Hard Luck Award” to a cowgirl for the first time (her horse crashed into a wall during a barrel race). The main event was the concert, and George was fantastic. It was fun to swoon with all the other girls, Lucy Green included. He put on an extra good show, knowing that it was a special night: the last rodeo concert in the AstroDome.

   The tickets they had split us into two rows, 2 in front and 3 behind. Nikki, Ryan, and I sat behind Lucy and Clem. I watched jealously as he stroked her neck all night, practically fondling her nape. She was styling the Denim and Diamonds look, and I imagined her most sensitive skin available to his touch beneath her long full skirt.

   The night was great, especially since we had VIP parking and could get out fast. I was nonetheless exhausted when I got home, from walking for miles. I dreamt that night of Clem caressing my neck, and woke deep in the night to find my panties wet in the crotch. Tentatively, I touched myself, and found I liked it. I rubbed what I knew to be my clitoris, and soon was making my bed squeak as I frigged myself. I masturbated hard for the first time, luxuriating in the wicked feeling I had. I felt my head starting to buzz, and rolled over to press my face into my pillow. Still rubbing, I screamed into my pillow, my entire body seeming to convulse.

   My last thought before I fell into sweet slumber was “so that’s what an orgasm feels like.”

   I woke the next day, still feeling totally charged. I had an energy I had never felt before, and it seemed as if every way I moved my panties brushed my clitoris. After my shower, I took a good hard look at myself for the first time. I was good looking, and had a nice body. My breasts had grown enough to make me not feel like a child, but my main feature was the muscles I had built as a product of the sports I played. I could almost imagine Mr. Green–Clem!–running his fingers over my washboard stomach like he ran his fingers over Lucy’s nape. My thoughts strayed to how he would squeeze my butt, and I found myself looking at my clitoris. It was sticking out!

   Embarrassed at myself, I dressed hurriedly and waited for my mom to give me a ride to school. I couldn’t get the idea of sex out of my mind. It was new and exciting, but the newness was scary too. I wanted to talk to my friends about it, but I didn’t too. Every time I went to the bathroom, I wanted to feel my clit, and yet I was afraid I would scream in orgasm again.

   That afternoon I was paired with Carol at soccer practice for a couple drills. Her comment about married guys and how they fucked echoed in my head. I missed a few easy passes as my mind conjured images of Carol getting fucked by Clem. “Hey, where’s your mind?” she asked, amused by how distracted I was.

   “Sorry,” I apologized, “I guess I’m thinking about a… guy.” I didn’t want to admit to my growing attraction to Clem Green.

   “A guy?” she laughed. “Not Chase?”

   “No, definitely not Chase,” I laughed.

   “Does that mean I can have him?” she laughed, kicking me the ball.

   “Well, I don’t have him,” I said archly.

   “Cool,” she said.

   But that got me thinking. “So if you were going to go for Chase, how would you get him to like you?” I asked.

   “Easy,” she smiled. “I’d like the things he likes. I’d end up looking more like you, because I know he has the hots for you. But I know he likes dumb girls, because then he feels smarter. So, I’d act dumb enough for him to like me.”

   I laughed, knowing she was right. Chase never struck me like the brightest bulb in the school. His vanity would require him to be smarter than the girl he dated. That’s probably why he never really made a big effort to win me.

   That night, I thought about it again. What did Clem like? Well, he obviously like beautiful women, because Lucy was very beautiful. He liked stylish women, I guessed. He liked daring women. But how could I be those things? I needed more research.

   My chance came that weekend, when I again babysat. Lucy picked me up this time, and I observed her discretely to see what parts of her I could mimic. She was wearing a dress and pretty floral hose. I always wore jeans or shorts. Next time I would wear a skirt. Her nails were done with a French manicure, while mine were bitten. I would grow them out. Her makeup was light and tasteful except in her lipstick, which was a heavy red. Maybe I’d borrow some of my mom’s, and see if he reacted.

   We stopped at the Sonic, getting the kids and my dinner. She ordered an extra large Creampie Shake for Clem, commenting “he loves a good creampie”. She laughed knowingly, which left me mystified.

   He wasn’t home when we got to the house, but arrived shortly afterward. He kissed Lucy heartily, his hand on her neck, pulling her in. She pointed out the shake, and they exchanged some private joke about it, then he rushed upstairs to change. A minute later, Lucy complained that she had forgotten something, and also went upstairs. Ten minutes later, they both came downstairs, holding hands. I couldn’t help but notice how flushed they both were, and Lucy’s lipstick was smudged.

   ‘Oh my God!’ I thought, realizing that Lucy must have smudged her lipstick on him. No wonder they were flushed and he wore a happy smile. I was shocked and jealous too.

   When they left, I immediately popped in a video for the kids and sneaked up to their bedroom. In their bathroom’s trash can was the packaging for hip-high stockings in the pattern Lucy was wearing. I bet that she wasn’t wearing anything else.

   They didn’t get home late that night, and I was downstairs watching TV. Clem drove me home, using the time to ask if I was available the next night too. “Unless you have a date?” he asked.

   “No, I’m not seeing anyone,” I blurted out, then kicked myself.

   “Really? A pretty girl like you isn’t seeing anyone?” he asked. He thought I was pretty?

   “Well, I was seeing a guy for a while, and I haven’t gotten over it,” I lied.

   “I hope you broke up with him,” Clem said, looking over at me with wonderful compassion.

   “Naw, he broke up with me,” I said, pretending to be rueful. I sounded pretty believable, getting into my role as a hurt young woman.

   “Not for another girl,” he stated, begging the question.

   “Actually,” I said, “his wife made him break it off.” Oh. My. God!!! I just made the most whopping lie I ever did. I sat there, my face going beet red. I realized only after saying it what a slut I sounded.

   Clem didn’t say anything at first. He finally spoke when we pulled onto my street. “I suppose it was for the better that you broke up with that married man,” he said, without accusation. “Maybe you learned something valuable from the experience.”

   I had been given enough time to recover my cool, and had decided to press the lie rather than try to correct it. “Yeah, I have,” I said, willing myself to turn and brazenly face him. I found the gumption to look him in the eye and say, “I’ve learned that older guys can give me what I need better than younger guys.” Clem’s eyes went wide with surprise, and I turned and got out of the van. “What time will you have me tomorrow?” I asked. ‘Have me?’ How lame an innuendo was that?

   “Lucy’ll pick you up around 5PM, if that’s OK?”

   “That sounds great,” I smiled at him. I took one last long look at him, capturing his face in my memory, for use when I was undressed and in bed. Then, I closed the door and marched up to the house. I was thrilled to feel his eyes on me, maybe doing more now than just watching to make sure I got inside OK.

   I woke in the morning, resolved to make Clem fall for me. The thought of being with him, being intimate with him, thrilled me. I saw how he treated Lucy, and I wanted that treatment. Carol’s description of the abilities of older men excited me too. But more than anything, Clem represented a challenge that I thought I could achieve.

   The first part of my plan was to become more Lucy-like. I called my friends around noon, when I was sure they were awake. We got together at the mall, and over smoothies I came clean. I told them I wanted to make an older guy ‘desire me’ and that his tastes were more sophisticated. My girlfriends totally got into it, helping me to figure out what to do. Some of them told me to play up the fact that I was young and sexy, while the others suggested I play more to his tastes.

   One of the fun things was to try to change my appearance on the cheap. Katie let me borrow her pair of sporty high-heeled slides. Jersey had a blood red skirt-dress that was backless and would be about thigh-length on me. So all I spent my money on was a pair of pearl earrings, pearl choker, and deep red lipstick. We decided a minimalist approach would be best.

   I went to my friend’s houses to collect the things I would borrow, then home to shower and get ready. I shaved my legs hurriedly, which is something I seldom did. I imagined Clem running his hands up my legs and felt a twitch in my clit. My little sister Reagan has had an enduring interest in braiding, and I promised to do her chores if she would braid my hair. In exchange for clearing the table for a week, she gave me an extremely tight inside-out braid that made my scalp tingle.

   At quarter of five, I had finished putting on light makeup except for the red lipstick, and slipped the dress carefully on. I realized only then that I didn’t have a bra I could wear with a backless dress. Feeling daring, I decided to just go braless. The thin fabric of the dress slid over my already hard nipples, giving me shivers. I put on the shoes Katie lent me, and studied myself in the mirror. The overall effect was sophisticated, but I still looked young.

   Peering closely, I could see my panty lines. I was debating if I should also go pantiless, which scared and excited me, when Reagan barged in to tell me that Mrs. Green had pulled into the driveway. I grabbed my purse, and at the last moment doubled back to my room to stuff some perfume in it, then went out the front door to Lucy’s waiting Excursion.

   “You look nice,” she said, studying my new look as I got in.

   “Oh, this. I went to a wedding this afternoon,” I lied. That seemed to satisfy her curiosity, although she suggested she could wait if I wanted to change quickly. I declined, and we started for her house.

   Lucy went up to finish dressing, and Clem arrived home a few minutes later. Alone in the kitchen, he remarked, “You look very grown up.”

   “I am grown up,” I said sincerely. I winced at his slight chuckle.

   “Well, enjoy your youth while you have it,” he advised. “You look nice with your hair up,” he said quietly. I realized with pleasure that he was quietly flirting with me.

   “Do I?” I said innocently, my hands going up to touch my hair and slide flirtingly over my neck. “You think so?”

   “It’s a nice look,” he explained. He spoke softly, as if he was afraid someone would overhear. “You have pretty ears, and I’ve never seen such a nice braid.” Instinctively, I reached up to touch my ears, aware now that his eyes were not quite on my face. There was a sudden tension in the kitchen, a sexual tension.

   The mood was burst with the arrival of Lucy, who came breezing in. “We need to go. We’re really late,” she said. She was now altogether and made me feel like a baby in comparison. Her makeup was heavier than I’d seen before, with dark eyeshadow that reminded me of the 80s re-runs that my mom watched (Knots Landing, I think?). Her glossy bobbed hair was pulled back with diamond barrettes, displaying her pretty ears. She was wearing her trademark deep red lipstick, of course.

   Her dress was no less elegant. This time it was a sequined cocktail dress that was shorter than most I’d seen. As she moved through the kitchen, I could catch glimpses of the wide elastic band that held up her stockings. If her dress was short, her snakeskin heels were high. They could have been four inches high, with what looked like a silver bullet on the heel. I thought the overall effect was very sexy, which brought a frown to my lips.

   “Where’s the camera?” she asked, going from drawer to drawer in her search.

   “I know,” Clem said, going to a low console. He opened the front doors, and pulled out a few cookbooks. Then he pulled out the camera, a tiny stainless steel one. “Here it is.”

   “Great,” she commented. She turned to me. “We’ll be home quite late, I am afraid.”

   “It’s a charity auction,” Clem explained. “Then we’re going to another couple’s house for drinks afterward.”

   “It’s OK,” I said, reassuringly. “I have your cellphone numbers.”

   After they left, I played with Nikki and Ryan. I put them to bed later than normal, since I knew their parents would get home even later. Exhausted, they fell asleep quickly. Time for more snooping.

   As I suspected, her floral hose were on the drying rack in the bathroom. They were thigh-highs again, and a damp pair of panties suggested that she again had gone with the crotchless ensemble. On her vanity, the personal hair trimmer was sitting in its recharging dock. The indicator light showed it was actively charging, leading me to believe she had just used it.

   ‘Clem was going to get very lucky tonight,’ I thought, wishing it were I giving it up. With a start, I realized anytime that I chose he could get lucky. That thought made me very nervous, because I didn’t really know what a full-grown man would like. I was nervous and excited too. I spent the next hours wandering their house, thinking over it and sliding my hand into my panties.

   About an hour before they made it home, I decided to do something. I peeled off my soaked panties, then sat in the kitchen practicing how to give Clem a peek up my skirt. If he made a move, I wouldn’t rebuff him.

   I was still in the kitchen, eating a bowl of ice cream to calm my nerves, when Clem and Lucy came home. Clem was tipsy, but Lucy was drunk. She was a mess, her barrettes missing and her hair mussed. Much of her makeup was smudged, and she had a wetspot on the chest of her dress. She was carrying her shoes.

   “Let me get Lucy to bed,” Clem said quietly, “then I’ll drive you home.” He was done quickly, then we went to her Excursion, which was sitting outside the garage. I noticed while getting in that the little stainless steel camera was in the middle row of seats. On the way to my house, Clem stopped at a 24-hour grocery store to “get cash and some medicine for Lucy”.

   ‘Hangover medicine,’ I chuckled. He was gone for a long time, which gave me time to remember the camera in the middle seat. Curious, I turned around in my seat, and reached back to get it. I saw it was a Canon Digital Elph, which had a tiny LCD display. Curious, I turned it on and figured out how to look at the pictures they had taken. I thought they would be of guests at the party and I was curious to see what their friends looked liked. I was wrong.

   Oh! My! God! They were pictures of Lucy in some very pornographic situations. One showed her kneeling, with a dick in her mouth and one in each hand. None of the guys whose dicks she groped looked like Clem. Then there was a picture of her on her back, her legs over a guy’s shoulders as he pressed his dick fully into her. One picture was her on her hands and knees, a man pulling her back by her hair as his thighs contacted her buttock. Several pictures and 15-second videos that showed dicks spraying her face, with the last in the series showing her smiling face covered with three or four loads worth of sperm. It was all totally gross, but fascinating to realize it was the elegant Lucy Green I was seeing.

   There was another series, of Clem fucking Lucy. It seemed to pause, and there were several of Clem’s cock pulling out. There was a video of Lucy’s vagina, open and dripping a string of white glue that ended at Clem’s dick. He came in her and then pulled out, I realized. The last pictures were of Clem licking Lucy’s disgusting gooey vagina. He was cleaning her. Gross!

   I was so caught up in the pictures that I missed Clem walking back to the car. My heart stopped when I heard the doors unlocking. I spun hurriedly to sit facing forward. In my haste, I forgot to drop the Digital Elph. He opened the door while I sat there unable to move and turning bright red.

   His eyes flicked over the situation, and I knew he understood what was going on. He sat there in his seat, motionless too. He was as busted as I was, I understood. I felt a thrill as I realized I had some power now too.

   I showed him the glowing LCD screen. “Lucy has lots of surprises, doesn’t she?”

   “She does,” he agreed, swallowing hard.

   My heart beating wildly, I made my move. “So do I,” I smiled. His eyes were puzzled, until I leaned across the seat and began to fumble with his zipper. My hands were shaking and unable to work his fly. Finally, he did it himself, undoing his pants and pulling both his pants and undershorts down.

   I just stared at his prick, the first I’d seen in person. It looked angry, so big and reddish purple. I wasn’t sure in that moment if I could go through with it. I felt his hand on the back of my neck, and he guided me towards his dick. I opened my mouth and tasted my first cock.

   The flavor was not what I expected. I expected a bitter taste, like pee. Instead, while there was a subtle strange flavor, it was mostly like my arm. It was not unpleasant, but the sensation of having a live muscle in my mouth, filling my mouth, was weird.

   I didn’t really know what to do, but Clem wasn’t shy about telling me. “Suck me,” he groaned. I pressed my lips around as much dick as I could hold, and sucked hard on him. I was rewarded with another groan. I also tasted a little salty flavor, and pulling off I saw that his pee-hole was leaking a clear fluid. Gently, his hands guided me back onto his dick, then he urged me to move up and down. “Bob,” he moaned, and I did.

   His hands explored my head, touching my hair, caressing my neck. Having him fondling my head just added to the thrill. I was having sex for the first time! I didn’t really know what to expect, but hearing him groaning and whispering encouragement was sure exciting. I had a distinct tingle down in my pussy, which ached to be touched.

   Abruptly, he pulled my face off his prick. Looking at me in the eyes, he pulled me into a kiss. A very forceful french kiss, with his tongue diving deep into my mouth. There was no tentativeness in his kiss at all. It seemed like he was taking control of me. I hadn’t really been kissed like this before, and I reveled in his power. It literally took my breath away. At that moment, I would have done anything he asked.

   Pulling back to end the kiss, he stared at me in my eyes. “When I cum,” he told me, “don’t swallow. Keep it in your mouth and kiss me again, OK?” Oh! My! God! He was planning to orgasm, and in my mouth! I didn’t really know what to expect, despite my required classes in human biology. My girlfriends were always talking about ’so and so’, the girl who ’swallows’. Clem lumped me in with them, the girls that swallow. I should have been shocked, but I was excited instead. I nodded my head, signaling I understood.

   He gave me a gentle nudge, and I slid back down to suck at his dick again. I had no idea if I was doing it right, but I sucked him like I would a siphon. He muttered nasty phrases, calling me a little “cocksucker” and worse. That just excited me more, and I found sounds coming from deep inside my breast. I was moaning, even while I was the one giving him pleasure!

   Suddenly, he gripped my head and began thrusting his hips up. I sucked as best I could, but I was more worried about not biting him. He was jamming his fat cock in and out of my mouth, fucking my face! I somehow knew it was just moments before he erupted into my mouth, and I steeled myself for it. Sure enough, with a grunt he held my head still and began to pump man juice into my mouth.

   I had understood it was going to be disgusting. The girls at school whispered and giggled about how gross and nasty a man’s sperm was. They pointed to white glue and boogers as examples of the texture and taste. But the thing is, they never mentioned that it was so hot or that it came out with such force. Clem’s sperm literally splashed against my tonsils, and I gagged a little. He kept cumming while I struggled to contain it. Soon, my whole mouth seemed to be filled with his sperm.

   Suddenly, he pulled me up and I brought my mouth to his. His tongue pried my lips apart, and he began to swirl his tongue in his own sperm! No one had ever told me about this, and I found it exciting as hell. We fought for his sperm, and I decided it was fun. His flavor wasn’t so bad, and it was proof I had made him cum. Me, little ol’ me, had made this powerful man cum in my mouth.

   The kiss wound down, and then he broke it. As he recovered, I saw horror creep into his eyes. “Oh God!” he exclaimed. “I’ve taken advantage of you! I am so sorry!” Hurriedly, he started the Excursion and pulled out of the parking lot we were still in.

   I tried to explain that I wanted him to do it, but he just apologized all the more. He obviously felt great regret for what happened, while I was thrilled. I only regretted his attitude. Eventually, we both fell silent until we got to my house. He handed me the money he owed me for babysitting, saying “I am so sorry,” yet again. He watched me to my door, made sure I went in, then hightailed it out of there. I watched the taillights disappear, confused at the events of the night.

   I removed my makeup, looking at myself in the mirror. My lipstick was smeared, but other than that there was no indication that I was now a cocksucker. I had felt so great about it while doing it, but now I felt a little ashamed. I was a bad girl, and I couldn’t go back to what I was. Worse, Clem now would avoid me. My previous horniness had now vanished, and I fell into a deep sleep not dreaming of anything in particular.

   I sat for the Greens the next weekend, but Lucy was the one who picked me up and dropped me off. Clem avoided me. I knew why he was doing it, out of his own guilt, but it hurt. I felt used.

   My friends asked if I had seen the older guy yet. They were anxious to hear the details, and to share in my joy. But I lied, saying he had cancelled a couple times and that I was probably dumped. I couldn’t admit to my closest friends what had happened. It was too hurtful. I kept thinking about Carol’s comment. I thought about confiding in her. Pain like I felt was meant to be shared.

   I knew I was thinking too much about it and that I should just move on. But I wanted to make sure he knew I had wanted it as much as he did. So, I decided to do something radical, next chance I could.

   That next weekend presented the first chance. Clem picked me up right after soccer practice because they had an early dinner party. My heart pounding, I decided to take full advantage of this opportunity. I got in the second seats, sitting in the middle where he could see me.

   “Clem,” I said, “about that night in the truck–”

   “I think we should both just forget about it,” he interrupted.

   “I think it was wonderful,” I said. I lifted my hips and pulled both my shorts and panties off. I flung my panties over his shoulder into his lap. His eyes went wide in the rearview mirror. I slid down, and parted my knees. “I think you are wonderful, and I wanted to suck you.” I closed my eyes and began to massage my pussy. I was getting wet, excited by talking about it, and by being so daring in rush hour traffic. I used mental telepathy, willing him to adjust his mirror to look at me. “I’ll suck you again if I get the chance,” I said, “and more.” I pulled myself open, shuddering with pleasure as the cool air touch my red-hot sex organ.

   “Jesus Jenny!” he gasped. “I’m a married man!”

   “You are a sexy man,” I said. “And if you stop it with the guilt, you could be a very happy man.” A thought occurred to me. “You let Lucy be with other men. Why won’t you be with me?”

   “That’s different,” he said noncommittally. “Put your clothes on. We’re almost at the house, but we’ll talk later.”

   He tossed me my panties, and I just stuffed them in my soccer duffel and slid on my soccer shorts. I spent the three hours they were away, playing with the children but obsessed with the feeling of my nylon Kappa shorts sliding over my pussy. I felt so wicked! Once I had to go into the potty to touch myself, to make myself cum. Then I wiped off my dripping crotch with toilet paper.

   When Clem drove me home, it was already dark. As we turned out of his street, I wasted no time in leaning over and unzipping his pants. He protested mildly, but stopped when I pulled out his swelling prick. I knew he took the long route to my house as I sucked him off. I kept checking the clock in the radio, and after 15 minutes I sat up as if nothing had happened. He hadn’t cum, and he looked desperate. ‘Good,’ I thought.

   “Jenny,” he whined, “are you going to leave me like this?”

   “Depends,” I said playfully.

   “Depends on what?” he asked, his expression suspicious.

   “Depends on whether you’re gonna return the favor,” I said. I had imagined his face at my crotch, licking me as intently as he had licked Lucy.

   “I can’t tonight,” he said, “because Lucy expects me home. But I will, I promise. Just finish me off and I’ll do it soon.”

   “OK,” I agreed, “but I can’t wait to feel your mustache on my pussy.” I blushed, realizing I had just used the word ‘pussy’ aloud for the first time.

   Gently, he reached over and guided my face to his crotch. He stroked my neck more as I sucked at him. His cock got very shiny, and at his suggestion to ‘use your hand’ I jacked him off at the same time. I pulled his cock skin down while I sucked hard at his hard prick. I felt the truck turn up a driveway and stop, and then both hands gripped my head, forcing me to bob up and down and take more and more. He pressed me down so that his dick jammed against the back of my throat. I felt myself gagging, and my eyes watered as I fought to not cough up.

   It was all happening at once. He was pressing me to swallow his dick, and I was trying to suck.

   “Don’t worry about sucking,” he growled. “Just take my cock.” With that advice, I just focused on swallowing more of his dick. I felt the pressure on the back of my mouth increasing, and I willed myself to relax. Suddenly, he popped into my throat! I fought the urge to gag and cough as I felt his log press into my esophagus. Then, I felt his zipper on my lips. I had his entire dick in me!

   I was thrilled, but I became increasingly worried about something simple: breathing. His cock was throbbing in my throat, and I felt an overpowering need to breathe. I pushed off him, sputtering slightly, then sucked a little bit. At a nudge from him, I pressed my face back down on him, trying to relax and let his prick into my thoat. Again I felt the urge to throw up and gag, but I was rewarded by Clem groaning and muttering ‘oh yeah’ over and over. With his cock in my throat, I swallowed a few times, squeezing his cock. His ‘oh yeahs’ because ‘oh fucks’, and I’d have smiled if I could.

   I repeated the same thing another time. Suddenly, his prick swelled inside my throat. Worried, I began to pull off but then I learned why it had swelled: he was cumming. His cum shot into my throat, and then splashed at my gag spot. I lost it, coughing up cum and saliva as I pulled off. Still, he came into my dripping mouth. Jesus, he came a lot!

   Unfortunately, he now had a massive wet spot on his pants. When he recovered, he got mad. “Dammit! Lucy is gonna fry me! Couldn’t you have swallowed or something?”

   I was mad too at his lack of appreciation. “Its pretty fucking hard to swallow with a cock in your throat! Next time give me a little fucking warning!”

   I was so pissed at his attitude that I hopped out of his truck and slammed the door behind me. I saw I was at the old Burger King, which had closed. I stormed off towards the main road, pissed. Then I turned to walk towards home.

   In a minute, he was driving next to me, his lights flashing because he was going at walking speed on a state highway. He begged me to get into the Suburban, apologizing over and over. Slowly, as my anger bubbled off, I listened and eventually got back into the truck. We drove in stony silence until I got home. I didn’t even stop to take my money, but jumped out and walked briskly inside.

   In frustration, I cried into my pillow that night. I thought my budding romance with Clem was over. I was wrong.

   I got a call from Clem the very next afternoon. “What are you doing for Spring Break?” he asked.

   “Some girls and I are planning to go to the beach a couple times,” I replied.

   “Could I convince you to intern for me?” he asked. “At least the days you aren’t at the beach?”

   “What do you mean, intern?” I asked. I thought the word meant I was going to be a doctor or something.

   “Sometimes we hire students to work for us, so they can learn what engineers do,” he explained. “I have a survey coming up, and could use some help with that and then sorting the responses. Do you know how spreadsheets work?”

   “You mean like Excel?” I asked. “Yeah, I do.”

   “Well, I could use the help,” he restated. Then, dropping his voice to a whisper he continued, “and I owe you a payback.”

   I was thrilled! “Let me ask my folks,” I said.

   “It doesn’t pay much…”

   I didn’t care. I wanted the chance to be with him, and it sure sounded like he wanted the same thing. “That’s OK,” I told him. We went over the details a little, and then I talked to my parents. They agreed, supportive of me learning something about the ‘real world’.

   The first part of my internship was exhausting. Clem hired temps and me to ask some questions of passengers who were flying out of Hobby airport. It was a long boring day, handing out survey forms and then collecting them. Some of the temps were nervous about approaching strangers, but I found it fun. Most of the passengers really responded to me, and a couple asked me out on a date. It was a total ego boost, but exhausting to be on my feet all day for three days.

   My first day in the office was non-eventful. Clem picked me up and drove me to the office. Then, he, a young pretty coworker, and I sorted the survey forms to make sure the answers were intelligible. With the coworker in close proximity, there was no chance for us to be intimate. I didn’t even flirt or tease him because I didn’t want the girl to suspect anything was going on. My mom picked me up to drive me home, so I didn’t have a chance in his car.

   I didn’t come in for a few days to give the data entry people time to type in the survey responses. That gave me time to go to the beach with my friends. We went to one of my friend’s parent’s beach house in Galveston. Two of the girls suggested we try nude sunbathing on the decked roof, and we all had fun catching rays. When we got too hot, we went in, then put on our suits to swim in the bay. That was fun, but it was even more fun to tease and flirt with a group of surfer dudes. Back at the house, we talked about them. It was a great couple days to be teen girls alone at a beach house. I was eager to try cocksucking the guys, but I didn’t want the bad girl reputation, so I didn’t.

   Before I went back to Clem’s office, I spent a considerable amount of time getting myself ready. I shaved myself in the shower, and perfumed my private parts. Then I put on a knee-length dress and racy panties. I put my blonde hair up in a French roll, and I felt downright elegant. I wore shoes that were too high-heeled to be comfortable, and just to be fun I wore low bobby socks. I wanted to look like I belonged, but I wanted Clem to want me bad.

   He commented on how great I looked when he picked me up. He turned to look at me three times on the short ride to his office. I could feel his eyes on my neck, and I blushed while pretending not to notice. I got nervous, having a feeling that we were going to have sex at his office.

   I was right, it turned out.

   When we got to the office, he went to his desk to check his voicemail. As he did, I moved to a spot not visible from outside his office and leaned against the wall. While he watched, I lifted my skirt and put a hand in my panties. He was transfixed, and I knew he wasn’t paying attention to his phone. I played with myself for just a few seconds, then pulled my panties down slowly. “I shaved for you,” I told him softly. It was awkward to get the damn panties off with my shoes on, but I managed to not topple over. Then, I lowered my skirt and walked casually to him. I handed him my panties, then asked if he wanted coffee. Dumbly, he nodded.

   I went and got him a coffee, encountering a couple CAD operators in the break room. They stopped talking and looked at me as I approached. They tried to not stare, but failed. I flushed a little with pleasure, realizing the effect I was having on them. As I strode away, trying to flounce a little without spilling the coffee, I could hear them begin to talk about me. Again, it was a great ego boost.

   I caught Clem sniffing my panties when I entered his office. “Maybe you should put those in your desk,” I suggested, worried about the risk he had taken. I knew that word of his panty sniffing would spread quickly in the office if he were caught. His eyes were slightly glazed, but he snapped out of it and quickly put my panties in a desk drawer.

   After the initially sexy moment in his office, it was back to the surveys. He took me to an unoccupied office near his, and asked if I knew how to do sorts and ‘cross-tabs’ in Excel. Sorts I knew, but cross-tabs I didn’t. He showed me what he meant, then gave me a list of data he’d like me to get. He stayed long enough to make sure I was doing it right, and what to do with the results when I was done, then excused himself saying he had a conference call to attend.

   It was actually fun to figure out what he wanted me to extract from the surveys, and how to do it. I got completely absorbed, and forgot about Clem until he re-appeared 45 minutes later to check on my progress. He smiled with satisfaction, and praised me for being so smart. I knew I was pretty and athletic, but no one had claimed I was smart. His praise made me glow!

   He had another conference call—he said he spent most of his days on conference calls—and so excused himself. But a few minutes later, a little message box popped up on my screen. “JENNY? CAN YOU COME AND GET ME SOME COFFEE? THIS CALL IS GOING TO BE TOO LONG!”

   I didn’t know how he did it, but I went down to his office and he beckoned me in. He had his phone on speaker, and I heard people talking about stuff. Clem pointed emphatically at something on his desk. I didn’t know what he meant, and he motioned me for me to stand next to him. Then he pointed at something on his desk, a random paper. He gently, pushed on my lower back, and I realized he wanted me to bend over the desk to look carefully at it. I did, listening to the hubbub on the phone and wondering what could be so important.

   I felt Clem’s hand touch my calf and slide slowly up. He dog! He was fondling me while on the call. I studied the random paper, thrilling to feel his hand moving up under my skirt. He cupped my butt, squeezing it hard, then sliding down to between my legs. He pressed insistently, and I moved my feet further apart to give him access.

   I shivered when his hand touched my pussy. His fingers slid back and forth over my slit, pressing gently into me. I almost collapsed when he touched my clit! I knew I was getting wet, as his fingers felt increasingly slippery. I wanted so badly for him to stick his finger in my hole, but he was teasing me.

   He put the phone on mute, and quickly said, “Go get some coffee and come back and close the door.” Taking his phone off mute, he responded to an inquiry. Frustrated and excited, I went to get him more coffee. I came back, scalding my hand once with splashed coffee because I was in too much a hurry. Then, I closed his door behind me.

   I put the soon-to-be-forgotten coffee down, and stood next to him. He mouthed “lift your skirt” and motioned with his hand when I didn’t get it right away. I lifted my skirt, and he immediately placed his hand on my juicy pussy. I had to be very quiet because the phone was still on speaker, which added to the excitement. He massaged my pussy for a minute, then brought his fingers to his mouth. He wore an expression of happiness as he sucked my flavor off.

   He wet his index finger with saliva and put it on my clit. The added wetness was soothing, and he wriggled his finger over me until I thought I would moan. He wet his finger even more liberally, and slid it over my clit, and into my pussy. It was just his fingertip, but a man was fucking me for the first time. That thought (and the pleasurable sensation of him rubbing the base of my clit) sent me over the edge. I bit my knuckle to keep from crying out, but I came all over his hand.

   When I recovered, I wanted to blow him in gratitude. Instead though, he shooed me out of the office, to return to the computer. In a slight daze, I returned to doing cross-tabs. In a moment, another little box popped up. This one looked like a chat box.

   “WAS THAT GOOD?” Clem asked. I hoped it was Clem!

   “OH YES, VERY GOOD” I typed, pressing SEND.

   “IMAGINE HOW GOOD MY TONGUE WILL FEEL,” he replied.

   “MMMMMMM” I sent back. I couldn’t imagine how nice a wet flexible tongue would feel, doing the same thing.

   “OR MAYBE MY DICK?” he asked.

   Wow! He was suggesting that he wanted to fuck me. Oh GOD! I was thoroughly turned on by the idea.

   “MAYBE.” I answered coyly. No use letting him know how eager I was. I knew he wanted it, but it would be on my terms.

   The box disappeared with the words “USER HAS DISCONNECTED”. Disappointed at the brevity of the exchange, I went back to tabulating the data. Clem left me alone with his subtle promises and the memory of the brief encounter until lunchtime.

   “Treat you to lunch?” he asked.

   “Sure,” I said.

   “I know a good bar-b-cue place a little down the highway,” he said, and I agreed it sounded good. Once in the car, he wasted no time. “Can you suck me on the way? I am feeling horny after you came on my hand.”

   “How about we pull your pants down this time?” I snickered. At the exit to his parking garage, he stopped and pulled his pants down to his thighs. I leaned over and tried to extract his sperm with my mouth.

   He was drooling clear liquid from the tip of his dick. “Precum,” he explained. It was sticky, but not nasty. I licked it off and then took his cock into my mouth. He stroked my neck again as I bobbed up and down on him. “You have a nice nape,” he muttered, fondling it. I began to suspect he had a fetish, and part of me stored that info away for analysis later.

   He really was hot, because in a few minutes he ejaculated into my mouth. I felt him swell, and this time I was ready for him. I took a quick swallow, feeling his slime go down my throat, then tried to capture as much as I could.

   When he stopped spurting (and weaving recklessly over the highway!), I pulled off and pressed my lips to his. He swerved again as he felt me shoving his cum back into his mouth. He let loose a deep moan, letting me know he liked it. The freaky bastard loved it. I did too. I went back down and thoroughly removed the rest of the goo from his dick. Then we were at the BBQ joint. He pulled up his pants and we went inside.

   It really was good bar-b-cue. We spent the lunch smiling like fools, sharing a sexy secret. We returned to the office and I finished the cross-tabs. Then, my mom stopped to collect me again on her way home from work. I was hoping something else would happen, but it didn’t.

   I dreamt that night of him forcing his big cock into my mouth and then into my pussy. I awoke, wondering if it was a premonition. I showered, shaving my crotch and imagining his tongue there. I again wore my hair up and a dress that buttoned in front. I didn’t bother putting on panties, hoping he would catch my wicked vibes.

   But he didn’t even seem to notice I was a girl! He was courteous and friendly, didn’t act at all like he noticed my overtures. He didn’t even seem to mind when he caught me flirting in the break room with one of the CAD guys. I was disappointed, but brightened when he asked if I cared for lunch. I quickly agreed.

   I was surprised when he drove into the apartment complex next door. Puzzled, I followed up the stairs to an apartment on the second floor. He unlocked the door and led me in.

   “Nice place,” I said, looking about at the tasteful furnishings.

   “We keep it for staff who come in from other offices,” he explained. Abruptly, he turned and roughly pulled me into a deep kiss. “You are driving me crazy!” he whispered, kissing me again. I could only smile at the thought of how he wanted me. As we kissed, getting hotter, I unbuttoned my dress and let it fall to the floor. He pushed me back a little, so he could admire my hard body. “You are so beautiful,” he croaked.

   I reached up to undo my hair, like I had seen in movies. I wanted him to know I was preparing for sex. “Don’t!” he blurted when he saw what I was doing. He gripped my shoulders and turned me around. He put his arms around me and pressed his face to my neck, kissing and licking madly. Uh huh. Definite fetish. His hands found my breasts, squeezing them nicely. One hand dropped to fondle my pussy. I felt his erection pressing into my buttocks. He was massively hard!

   As nice as this all felt, I wanted more. I turned and dropped to my knees like I recalled his wife doing in the photos. I fumbled with his belt and fly, wanting to free his cock. He helped, and his pants dropped to the floor. I pulled down his underwear, confronting his dick. I sucked him then, responding to his gentle instructions. I loved the feeling of his throbbing muscle, and how I was exciting him. At his urging, I took his cock deeply, letting him press against my gag spot and then into my throat. It got easier with practice, and he definitely enjoyed it.

   “Let’s go to the bedroom,” he suggested. That was OK with me, because my knees were aching. He sprawled on the bed, waving his dick back and forth suggestively. I lay down to give myself a good angle at his dick, and started sucking again. I enjoyed teasing him, raking him with my teeth, and tickling his cum-hole with my tongue. It was far more relaxed and enjoyable to be together on a bed like adults, instead of doing it in a car or an office.

   “Just let me cum,” he groaned, “and I’ll show you how I can use my mouth.” I got him wet and jacked him with my hand before trying to cram him into my throat. Although the back of my throat ached, it wasn’t very hard to take all of him.

   “Cum for me,” I told him, gasping. “Cum in my mouth, and I’ll make you kiss me.” His eyes went wide, filled with lust. I was only partially down on him when he swelled again. A nice thick string of cum splashed into my mouth, and I was able to capture most of it. True to my word, I moved up and shared the bounty with him. He growled in pleasure even as his tongue explored in my mouth, seeking his own sperm.

   “Lay on your back,” he told me. Excitedly, I rolled off him and onto my back. “Put a pillow under your butt,” he said. I did, and he gently pushed my thighs wide apart. “Your pussy is so pretty,” he murmured. I should have blushed, having a man talking about my privates, but instead of blushing, I gushed. When he leaned in and licked into my pussy, I had to cover my face because it felt so good.

   Everything he did felt so good. He seemed to understand what would feel good, and did it perfectly. I rose towards orgasm, and could almost feel myself cum. When it didn’t happen, I looked up to see him smiling at me. The bastard had stopped just when I was ready to cum. When I felt my readiness subside, he started again. He did this several times until I was sure I was going to explode.

   Then, I felt his finger entering me. He slowly slid it in until I felt like his entire hand was inside. I knew it was just one finger, but I hadn’t even had that much inside me. I expected to bleed, my virginity taken, but didn’t. I didn’t dwell on that thought, because I could feel myself about to orgasm. His finger started to play over some place inside me, and sparks started. I jerked like I had a spasm, but he moved with me.

   “Ready to cum?” he taunted.

   “Oh, please make me cum,” I moaned. Smiling, he began to lick me directly on my clit while wriggling his finger on that spot. I literally

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