by Jefferson James
For the rest of the month, I fucked Angie several times a week. Her point of view had changed dramatically. It was no longer a case of just cooperating when she had to. Each and every time she knew exactly where my father was, that she and I were alone and he wouldn’t be coming home unexpectedly, she made sure I knew she was available, ready and willing.
As an added bonus, she began swallowing cum and taking my dick up her butt without even a whimper of complaint. She wanted to make sure I was completely satisfied and that she was not in danger of being forced into sex when it was even moderately risky. What had started as a practical joke, resulted in her becoming the perfect lover.
Spyder wasn’t joining in on the fun yet; she thought it was still too soon. She was afraid Angie might figure out what was going on if I suddenly started blindfolding her and eating her out. First, I’d get her used to the idea of more oral sex. Later, a blindfold and Spyder’s tongue could be added without too much suspicion.
Spyder was, however, ready for another go at Vivian. I made all the arrangements. I called Vivian at her office and told her when and where she was to be. Then, like before, Spyder and I met for lunch at a nearby restaurant to discuss how she would secretly join the party. We weren’t able to get an adjoining room again, so I was going to have to let her in the front door.
Just when I thought we were ready to go, Spyder ordered another drink.
“Do you like older women?” she asked after the waiter left.
I grinned and told her, “I like pussy. Some pussies are more wrinkled than others, and it doesn’t seem to have anything to do with a woman’s age. …fat, skinny, tall, short, ugly, pretty, young, middle-aged or older. It doesn’t matter to me. If I’m in her, and she feels good, I like her.”
“You’re forgetting that you are talking to a psychologist,” she said, smiling at me. “You like more than pussy. And I am not talking about ass and mouth. You like degrading women.”
“And older women are used to being in control of their lives and they find being forced to do something more degrading than younger women,” I said, smiling back. “You knew the answer before you asked the question.”
After her drink arrived and the waiter had gone, Spyder took a sip and said, “She’s old enough to be your grandmother.”
“Who is she?” I asked.
Spyder had a strange glint in her eye. She seemed real pleased with herself and much more excited than she had been when telling me about Vivian the first time. Whoever our new plaything was, Spyder wanted her bad. She also seemed to enjoy the fact that she was keeping me in suspense. The way she was acting, I felt certain her pussy was wet with anticipation. As she re-crossed her long, thin legs, I got the distinct impression she was doing it so she could squeeze her thighs together without anyone noticing.
Smiling, she took another sip of her drink. Then, leaning forward, she said in a low, sexy, sultry voice, “Abigail Vandenberg.”
That name made my eyes light up too.
“Abigail of ‘At Home with Abigail’ on PBS?” I asked.
Spyder re-crossed her legs again and took another sip of her drink. Discreetly brushing her tit with her forearm, she smiled and nodded.
Abigail Vandenberg was our town’s version of Martha Stewart. She even looked like Martha, except that her hair was a little darker and she wore it a little shorter. But she had the same smug expression and know-it-all attitude. Putting her in her place and making her follow my orders would be a dream come true.
Smiling back at Spyder, I asked, “What have you got on little Miss Perfect?”
“…little Mrs. Perfect.” Spyder said, sliding an envelope across to me. “She’s married to Judge Vandenberg. You’ve probably heard of him. He’s the one involved in the push to require weekly drug and alcohol testing of people receiving food stamps or any other form of public assistance.”
“…not a popular guy with the media,” I said, opening the envelope.
Inside was a repair order from the local Lexus dealer.
“The service manager is a patient of mine,” Spyder explained in a hushed voice. “It seems the good judge got drunk and wrecked his car. He accidentally ran down and killed a homeless man. …hit and run. Abigail took the car to the dealer, had it repaired and slipped the service manager a large sum of money to keep quiet.”
Taking a quick look around to make sure no one was listening, Spyder leaned a little closer and continued, “The Vandenberg’s dirty little secret is safe for the moment, and probably would have remained that way forever. The service manager hasn’t talked and has no plans of talking. He is, however, suffering from a guilty conscience, which I’m helping him with. If the police confront him, though, he would spill the beans. The judge and his charming little wife know this and are probably shaking in their boots. Judge Vandenberg would be charged with manslaughter and leaving the scene of an accident. Abigail is guilty of destroying evidence. They’d go after him like a pack of wolves, and her too.”
Putting the work order back in the envelope, I grinned and said, “I can almost feel her lips on my dick.”
“Speaking of lips…” Spyder said, finishing off her drink. “I think it’s time Vivian took a more active role and did a little pussy licking.”
“Speaking of pussy…” I said, rising to go. “You owe me some. You said…”
Spyder shook her head and interrupted me.
“I don’t owe you anything,” she said. “I told you to make Vivian cum if you wanted to fuck me. I never said I’d actually let you. It was one of those word games like you enjoy playing. After all, the whole reason we’re partners is because we both like girls, remember? You’ll be getting more than your share of pussy, but none of it will be mine. What’s in my panties is for girls only.”
Our session with Vivian went pretty much as expected. The fact that I let in a friend after she was blindfolded really upset her, especially when she discovered the friend was female. She was introduced to the joys of pussy licking and anal sex. She was a little resistant at first, but after a minute or two she had her face buried in Spyder’s girls-only crotch, tonguing and sucking for all she was worth, and loving every second of it.
She was the same way about anal. When I told her I was going to fuck her in the butt, she was horrified and started begging me not to. As I was shoving my way into her chubby ass, she was squealing like a stuck pig and crying like a baby, screaming for me to take it out. A couple minutes later, in between slurping up Spyder’s pussy juices, she was yelling, ” Harder! Harder! Fuck my ass, harder!”
Afterwards, she told us how much she was looking forward to our next session and how she hoped we wouldn’t wait an entire month before calling. She obviously didn’t need to be blackmailed anymore. She was happy, perhaps even thrilled, with the idea of being a sex slave. Her nipple ring wasn’t just something to be leashed; she wore it like a badge of honor.
The next day was Saturday, and I figured it was the perfect time to give the Vandenbergs a visit. I showed up in the middle of the afternoon and met with the judge in his den. After showing him a Xerox of the work order, I explained how my partner had the original and would take it to the police if I suffered any retribution. He acknowledged that he could, and would, do nothing other than comply with my demands. I then spelled out exactly what I expected of him and Abigail.
Like any good husband, he was enraged. He paced back and forth behind his desk for almost five minutes, telling me how I was asking for too much, and making counter offers of money and favors. When I told him the deal was non-negotiable, he cussed a blue streak for the next five minutes, calling me everything he could think of. Eventually, he quit yelling and said, “Wait here.”
While he was gone, I started thinking. What if he came back with a gun? Knowing he would get life in prison would be little consolation if I was dead. I suddenly realized just how risky my part of the partnership was. Spyder got half the honey for finding the hive, but I was the one who had to confront the bees. And, in this case, there was a bear that didn’t want me taking his honey.
For the first time I knew there was more than the police and a prison sentence to worry about. I was the son or a rich and powerful man. He could get me out of just about anything I got myself into. But getting myself killed was another story.
When the judge returned, instead of a weapon he brought Abigail. She was just as angry as he was. Her arms were folded tightly over her chest and there was pure hate in her eyes. She looked like she had just come from a taping of her show. Her makeup and hair were flawless. She was wearing high heels, a frilly white blouse and a light brown tweed skirt with a matching blazer. They were both madder than hell, but I could clearly tell they had decided the price of refusal was too high. They had agreed to accept my terms.
“Your mother must be very proud of you,” Mrs. Vandenberg said, practically spitting the words.
“My mother is dead,” I told her. “And I doubt my stepmother is very proud of me since I’m blackmailing her too. But, who knows? I’ll ask her the next time I fuck her.”
Abigail glared at me and said, “There’s no need to be vulgar. I don’t allow that sort of language in my home.”
“Isn’t that a little hypocritical, considering what you’re agreeing to?” I asked, blatantly looking her up and down. “You do know what sort of things you and I are going to be doing in your home, don’t you, Abby?”
“My name is Abigail,” she said, uncrossing her arms and taking a more defiant stance.
In response, I took on a more relaxed posture and sat back in my chair.
“I don’t care what your name is,” I said, smiling at her. “I’ll call you anything I want. If I want to call you Abby, I will. If I want to call you Sweetheart, Lover or Sugar Bottom, I will. You’re not going to complain and neither will your husband.”
The judge hadn’t said a word this whole time. He had calmed down some and was trying to maintain as much of his dignity as he could under the circumstances. Now that the bear was de-clawed, I decided it might be fun to taunt him a little.
“Have a seat,” I told him, motioning to his desk. “Your wife and I are going to have a contract signing and you are the witness.”
When the judge had taken his seat, I motioned to Mrs. Vandenberg.
“Come here, Abigail,” I said, emphasizing the fact that I was using her full first name.
For the longest time she just stood there looking at me. Then, fully aware that she had no choice but to obey, she slowly walked across the room and stood directly in front of me like a sacrifice waiting to be thrown into the volcano. When I reached out and began running my hands up and down the outsides of her thighs, she closed her eyes, but didn’t react in any other way. She was a strong woman. She was determined to stand there straight and proud, regardless of the situation.
“You’ve got a nice body for a woman your age,” I said, squeezing her butt. “…nice and firm.”
She stiffened. She was obviously fighting with herself, trying to keep her temper from getting the best of her. As my hands moved from her hips to her knees down the sides of her legs, she went completely rigid, clenching her fists. Sliding my fingers back up the front of her legs, under her skirt, I could feel her shaking. She was on the verge of breaking. I felt that any second she would explode in a fit of cussing and crying. Instead, in an attempt to get control of her emotions, she took a deep breath and relaxed, opening her eyes and staring straight ahead. Her self-control was impressive.
She was wearing a garter belt and it made getting to her panties a little difficult, but I managed. Tugging and yanking from various places, I was able to pull them down a little at time. They would only go as far as the top of her hose, but it would do for the moment. Taking my hands out from under her dress, I lifted her skirt a few inches to give her more freedom of movement, and said, “Spread ’em.”
My crudeness brought the anger back to her eyes, but she complied.
“Tomorrow you’ll have the nipple of your left breast pierced,” I said, putting my hand back up her dress and between her open legs. “You’ll have a 24 carat gold ring put through it, which you’ll never remove. …ever. Whenever I say the word nipple, you will expose that tit and show me your ring. Are you clear on that?”
She looked down at me and nodded. While she was still facing me, I reached over her panties and pushed my hand into her crotch. She didn’t flinch, or even blink. I was disappointed, but intrigued. Just what was it going to take? How long could she keep up the ice woman routine before finally crumbling and collapsing in a sobbing, tear-drenched heap? I was really looking forward to discovering the answer to that question.
Her bush was untrimmed, full and natural. I rubbed it with the palm of my hand, my fingers exploring her pussy lips, feeling for her vagina. As I started working my middle finger into her, she let out a little gasp and rose to her tiptoes. That was the first chink in her armor. She wasn’t invulnerable. It took her more than a few seconds to regain her composure. When she did, he lowered herself again, making my finger go even deeper in the process.
She had a tight pussy, and not just from the dryness. For all I knew, the judge was impotent and my finger was the first thing she had had in her in years. …sort of a born again virgin. Or maybe she was too much of a prude to let him fuck her more than a few times a year. Either way, her sex life was in for a drastic change.
After a few seconds, she started getting wet. As she did, the anger faded from her face and was slowly replaced by a blank stare tinged with just a hint of that most delicious of all expressions – humiliation. I could barely wait for that first tear to roll down her cheeks. I knew it didn’t matter how tough she acted; it was just a matter of finding which button to push. And the harder she fought it, the tastier it would be when she finally fell to pieces.
I fingered her for almost a full minute, enjoying the way her big tits giggled up and down as she bounced, the sound of her heavy breathing and the look of suppressed degradation on her face. To her credit, though, she didn’t cover her face. She probably thought it would be a sign of weakness. I really didn’t care. I was finding the look of stifled anguish on her face just as entertaining.
Something about the way she just stood there with her legs open, showing as little emotion as possible while my finger slid in and out of her moist pussy, made the moment even better. Her decorum and feigned disinterest were totally at odds with what was going on in her cunt. Other than the wetness, there was no clear indication of what she was experiencing. Her pussy juices were flowing and coating my pumping finger, but there was no obvious distress, no anger, no hatred, no shame, and most importantly, no tears. The mood was almost clinical.
“Just pretend you’re at the gynecologist’s,” I told her, twisting my finger is her tight, warm, wet cunt. “Of course, a gynecologist probably wouldn’t do this…”
Pulling my finger out of her and holding it up in front of her face, I said, “This is where you sign the contract, Sugar Bottom. Suck it.”
Abigail just stared at my moist, gooey finger like it was the most disgusting thing she had ever seen. Her cold facade was again showing signs of cracking. She tried to hide it, but I could tell from her expression that her stomach was turning. She just stood there unmoving. I knew she wanted to turn away, but her pride wouldn’t let her.
Swallowing hard, she uneasily shifted her weight from one foot to the other, closing her legs slightly. Her self-control was slipping. She looked like she wanted to puke. She didn’t even try to hide the look of distress on her face. Pushing my hand closer to her mouth, I said, “If it dries out, I’m just going to make it wet again. I’ll finger your pussy for as long as it takes. You’re going to do this. Suck it.”
“I’ll do it,” she said, softly, telling herself as much as she was telling me.
Then, closing her eyes and hugging her stomach, she slowly leaned forward, taking my finger into her mouth, sucking it gently. She not only had pride; she had integrity too. She wrapped her tongue around my finger, cleaning its entire surface, licking up every trace of her juices. She must have realized that anything less would have meant having to do it again. I don’t think she wanted to risk that.
“It’s no worse than sushi, is it?” I asked.
The judge had sat quietly listening to and watching everything. He took his job as witness seriously, obviously knowing I would have been harder on his wife if he hadn’t. But, now that the signing was complete, he wanted to let his feelings be known. Standing up behind his desk he yelled, “You revolting little cretin. I’d like to…”
“I really don’t care what you’d like to do, Judge.” I told him. “I want to know what your wife is going to do. For instance, if I take out my dick, will she suck it too?”
Abigail swallowed several times, as she attempted to get the taste of her own juices out of her mouth. Each time she did, her face twisted with revulsion. Then, once again opening her eyes, she asked, “Can he go now?”
“I’ll answer your question when you answer mine,” I said.
She looked at her husband and then back at me, saying, “Yes, I’ll perform oral sex if that’s what you want.”
I had to laugh.
“Today, ladies, we will be discussing the finer points of etiquette in regard to the art of fellatio. It is important in our role as the caregiver that we learn to perform the filthy yet necessary act of oral sex while still remaining urbane and lady-like. I hope you girls brought your kneepads.” I said, giggling girlishly, mocking her and her TV show.
Abigail closed her legs and attempted to look more dignified. The effect was sort of lost due to the fact we both knew her panties were bunched up around the top of her hose. But the look of hidden humiliation was now gone, and she was getting angry again. Still mocking her, I said, “I didn’t ask if you would perform oral sex. I asked if you would suck my dick.”
At first, she didn’t answer. It was almost as if saying it was worse than doing it. It’s hard to believe that a woman could be so puritanical that she balked at such a simple phrase. I knew then, even more than before, that she was going to be a lot of fun. And, the harder I made it for her, the more crudeness I subjected her to, the more fun she would be. With that in mind, I took my stiff cock out of my pants and wagged it at her. Her face reddened a bit, but she still didn’t say anything.
“I’ll show you mine if you’ll show me yours,” I said, leaning forward, unzipping her skirt and pushing it down over her hips.
I got a quick peek at her thick bush before she instinctively covered herself. It had more gray hair in it than I expected, and I found that strangely exciting. It was a visual reminder of how old she really was and of how degrading it must be to have someone as young as me ordering her around. For a woman of her stature to be exposed, even for a second, in front of someone my age had to be humiliating.
“Are you still wet?” I asked, wagging my cock at her again. “I could finger you some more. It might help put you in the mood. Getting a little hot and bothered might make it easier for you to talk dirty and say you’ll suck my dick. Of course, even if you aren’t in the mood, you’re still going to say it, aren’t you?”
For a split second, a look of defeat flashed across Abigail’s face. As hard as she tried to hide it from me, we both knew she had no choice and would do or say anything I wanted. Stalling wouldn’t help and as much as she didn’t want to comply, she obviously had no other choice. With hate blazing in her eyes, she pulled her panties up and said, “Yes, I’ll suck your dick. Can my husband go now?”
“He can go as soon as my dick is in your mouth,” I said, grabbing her wrists and yanking her to her knees.
She almost fell over and had to grab my legs to steady herself. Then, just as soon as she could, she pulled her hands free, wiping them on her blazer as if she had touched something dirty. Pre-cum was already oozing out of my dick and its head was shiny and glistening. She just knelt there staring. I knew she wanted to wipe it dry, but she obviously realized that wouldn’t be allowed. I tried to think of something crude to say, wanting to make this as difficult for her as I could.
Then, I decided that the best thing, the thing she would hate the most, would be to turn the tables. Waiting for her to obey would mean she would stew more, but stewing wasn’t affecting her the way I had hoped it would. Finally having to decide on her own to take my dick in her mouth, would be a hard thing for her to do. Still, it would be on her terms, when she was ready. It left her in charge, and she was used to being in charge. It was time to let her know what being forced was all about. I suddenly grabbed her head and her mouth popped open in surprise.
“Wrap your fucking lips around it, slut,” I said, jerking her face into my groin.
The instant my dick disappeared into his wife’s mouth, the Judge took his cue and stomped out of the room, slamming the door as he left. Abigail was gagging and coughing, her arms flailing wildly.
“What’s the matter, whore? Is it too big for your fucking mouth?” I asked, standing up and taking a step forward, dragging her by her head. She was completely off balance with her legs akimbo and nothing to support her. Her only choice was to hug my legs as I repeatedly pushed my cock in and out of her sucking mouth.
Whenever she seemed to be acclimating herself to the new position, I would stab into the back of her throat, making her gag. Every time she loosened her lips, I’d pull her hair and tell her to suck. Then, I’d take another step this way or that, fucking into her mouth from a different angle, making her follow me like a clumsy dance partner.
Her teeth scraped my dick a few times, and it hurt. But all the whimpering and whining she was doing made it worth it. She wasn’t used to being manhandled, and it showed in her reaction. Between sucking and choking she did a lot of growling and made a lot of complaining noises. Her knuckles were white from gripping my pant legs. And her fists weren’t clenched that tight just to hold on.
Eventually, I settled down and started concentrating on fucking her face. After all, it wasn’t all about degrading her; I wanted some physical pleasure too. Abigail’s mouth felt as good as any woman’s. My knees were bent and she was sitting on her butt between my legs. I still had her face jammed into my groin and my cock was deep in her mouth. Working my hips as fast as I could, I slid in and out between her tight, wet lips.
After a bit I went down onto one knee, and then onto both, lying her down on the floor. I knew being on her back made her feel even more subservient. There were no illusions. She wasn’t ‘performing oral sex’; she was getting her face fucked. My dick was stabbing deep into her mouth as fast as I could make it move. The only participation on her part was to keep her lips tight. Other than that, she just laid there submissively while I used her mouth.
“It may not be what you think of as foreplay, but it works for me,” I groaned. “I think I’m just about ready for the main event. What about you? Are you ready to take those panties off, spread your legs and get your cunt stuffed?”
Easing up on her slightly, I started stroking slower and slower, pulling out further, until just the head of my cock as in her mouth, working her lips on the underside of my dick, and then pushing back in only a short ways. Just as I had her thinking she was done, I slid almost all the way out and sprang another surprise on her, shooting off onto her tongue, pumping hard and deep like before, blasting the whole time while using my dick to shovel it off of her tongue and into her throat. Twisting and turning, squealing and whining, trying to buck me off, trying to wrench her head free of my grasp, she fought as hard as she could before finally submitting, accepting, and doing the only thing she could. She swallowed.
“It’s always fun to share recipes,” I said, pulling out and wiping my dick on her cheek. “I call that one Creamed Tongue Surprise. Did you like it? Were you surprised?”
Abigail was fuming. If looks could kill, I would have been a puddle of goo. As she lay there sputtering, scowling and wiping her mouth with her hand, I jumped to my feet. Then, bending down, I ripped the straps from her garter belt and grabbed her on either side of her hips. Standing upright again, I shook her out of her panties, literally dumping her on her ass. As an added insult, I threw her underwear in her face.
“Let’s go, Sugar Bottom,” I said, taking hold of Abigail’s wrists, dragging her to her feet and across the den. “We’re going to do it on hubby’s desk. Won’t that be fun?”
She stumbled along behind me, still making faces and sounds of disgust from being forced to swallow my cum. While she was off balance, I positioned her with her butt at the end of the desk and asked, “What’s the matter? Did that leave a bad taste in your mouth?
Then, putting my hand right in the middle of her face, I pushed her onto her back. The indignity of it enraged her so bad she started to sit up and confront me. As she propped herself up on one elbow and tried to slap my face, I reached under her knees, lifted her legs and forced her onto her back again. She went down hard, banging her head. For a second she was stunned and didn’t move.
While she lay there dazed, I took the opportunity to rip open the front of her blouse. Her breasts were big and meaty looking, what I’d call jugs. I couldn’t wait to see more than just cleavage. She was wearing a bra that fastened between the cups. I was about to open it, but then decided instead to just peel it off her boobs and shove it up her chest. She looked sexier that way, and I figured it made her feel more violated, too.
There were small wrinkles around her small, pink nipples, but they only seemed to highlight the stark contrast in color between her areolas and the milky-white flesh of her tits, which were further contrasted by her tanned body. It was like her boobs had never before seen the light of day. Being jugs, they probably sagged a little when she stood, but they looked gorgeous with her on her back. She definitely had a tittie-fucking and facial coming her way in the not too distant future.
Right then, however, I had other plans. With her panties now discarded, I was getting my first good, long look at her pussy. Her bush was even thicker than it had felt. It was a tangle of lush, curly, dark brown hair mixed with gray. Having her legs spread like they were made her cunt look like a clearing in a forest. …a pristine wilderness about to be invaded. …penetrated and plundered.
“Good afternoon, and welcome to my show,” I said, using the head of my dick to feel for the damp spot between her pussy lips.
Even with the fingering I had given her, she was still a lot tighter than I expected. Gripping her hips for leverage, I eased back a little and pushed again. The head of my cock was a little slicker this time and sank into her. Still, it only went in about an inch before I had to pull out and take another stroke. I could almost believe she really was a virgin. On the second shove I got deeper, though, deep enough to actually start fucking her.
As I pumped my dick further and further into her, she came back alive, but not like before. All the anger and hatred dissipated and was replaced with distress. Everything that had happened, so far, she had endured without losing her pride or self-respect, but not this. Having her cunt filled with a dick she didn’t want, by someone she felt nothing but contempt for, was too much for her. I thought I was going to finally be rewarded with tears, but had to settle for the music of an anguished groan.
The fact that I couldn’t make her cry was pissing me off. I was so looking forward to it. She was such a strong woman. Seeing her break was going to be absolutely delicious. I shouldn’t have let the judge leave. Fucking her in front of her husband may have been just the thing she needed. But, it was too late now. Her pussy was as tight, slick and smooth as any I had ever fucked. I was plowing into her for all I was worth and didn’t want to stop for anything.
In spite of her dry eyes, Abigail was giving me a lot of pleasure. As I pumped my dick in and out, in and out of her wet little hole, she threw her head back and forth from side to side, moaning and whimpering with degradation. Getting a loveless fuck from a total stranger must have been even worse than she had imagined when she agreed to my terms. She obviously hated the choice she had made. But it was just as obvious from the look of resignation on her face, she would have made the same choice if she had it to do over again. As bad as it was, it wasn’t as awful as the alternative, and this wasn’t all she would be willing to endure to protect herself and her husband.
I heard a noise in the hall and knew the judge was outside the door. He could probably hear his wife moaning with shame and the sound of my body smacking against hers as I fucked her, but I wanted to make sure. Using every ounce of my strength, I pounded into Abigail’s cunt. I was fucking her so hard, even as heavy as it was, the desk started inching across the floor. I was grunting and she was groaning, but the volume level still wasn’t high enough to suit me. I not only wanted the judge to hear, I wanted Abigail to know he could hear.
Lifting her legs higher so I could fuck deeper, I switched from fast stroking to slow and deliberate shoving, making each deep jab count. As my dick punched repeatedly into her cervix, the sounds she was making got a little more shrill. She was too much of a lady to actually squeal, but she got close a few times, close enough to make me want more. If I couldn’t make her cry, maybe I could make her scream.
Dropping one of her legs, I leaned forward over her and supported myself with one hand and slapped her right tit with the other. It caught her by surprise and she made the most wonderful sound. She yelped the way a dog does when you kick him in the balls. Before I could slap her other tit, she quickly folded her arms over her chest.
“Move your fucking arms,” I told her. “Are you forgetting who’s in charge around here? I’m the boss and I’ll do what I want; you’re just the slut who gets fucked. That was the agreement, and don’t you fucking forget it.”
Abigail clamped her eyes shut and threw open her arms, gripping the sides of the desk, bracing herself. I slapped her left tit, and then backhanded it. Her back arched and her pelvis crashed into mine. I went back to her right tit and started flailing it with my fingers, swinging my hand back and forth, striking just her nipple over and over again until it was bright red. Then, returning to her left tit, I repeated the process.
In spite of it all, Abigail refused to give me satisfaction. Her face was as red as her jugs. She was howling like a banshee and the judge could clearly hear her no matter where he was in the house. I was fucking into her hard and fast, constantly changing the angle, stretching her tight hole in every direction. I knew she was hurting in more ways than one, but she still wouldn’t shed a tear. Instead, the arched her back further and thrust her chest at me in defiance.
Other than that, she was a great fuck. It was unbelievable just how tight she was. She was wet, but not sloppy. The friction was incredible. As I plowed into her, pounding and stuffing her cunt, I could have closed my eyes and easily imagined I was fucking a young teenage girl. But, knowing who she was and just how old she was heightened my arousal even more. My dick was aching to explode.
I quit swatting Abigail’s jugs and gripped her hips again. If the judge had come in with a gun right then, I would have been a perfect target. I was so out of control I couldn’t have stopped if my life depended on it. Over and over again, harder and harder, I slammed my dick into “Little Mrs. Perfect”, intoxicated by the fact that she was my slut and that this was just the first of many hot fucks.
Having my dick sliding in and out of Abigail Vandenberg was a dream come true. I decided right then to combine fucking her with another of my fantasies; making a porno film. The next time I had her on her back with her legs spread and my dick stuffed in her sweet cunt, there would be cameras pointed at us and tape rolling.
The very thought pushed me over the edge. Then, as if in rehearsal for our forth coming video, I pulled out of Abigail and said, “Here comes the money shot, Sugar Bottom. Rub it in.”
As I spewed hot cum on her muff and pussy, Abigail fell limp. When she refused to follow my instructions, I grabbed her wrist and forced her hand to her crotch.
“I said rub it in,” I gasped, still jacking off and shooting into her brown and gray pubic hair.
She was weak and moved slow, but she did as she was told. As she smeared my thick, gooey juice over her pussy, I smeared more on her fingers and the back of her hand. When I was completely drained, I pulled her off the desk and pushed her face to a pool of cum that had formed on its top. She was so defeated by this point I didn’t even have to tell her what to do. She knew what was expected of her, and she complied. Her tongue slipped out between her slightly wrinkled lips and she licked the desktop clean.
When I released her, she collapsed in a heap on the floor. She didn’t move the entire time while I put my dick back in my pants, straightened my clothes and headed for the door.
“Don’t forget to have your nipple pierced,” I said as I left. “What I did to your tits is nothing compared to what I’ll do if you disobey.”
The judge was waiting in the hall outside the den. He didn’t say anything as I passed, but he gave me the most evil look you can imagine.
“She’s a good fuck,” I told him. “…better than I had hoped. I’m looking forward to next month. Buy her some sexy lingerie —crotchless panties, peek-a-boo bra, things like that— and make her wear them for me and maybe I’ll go easier on her next time.”
By the time I got home, just the memory of the session had my dick hard again. I wasn’t in the door more than two minutes and I had Angie on her knees with my dick in her mouth. Tasting Abigail’s pussy, and knowing it was pussy she was tasting, caused Angie’s face to twist with revulsion, and she pulled back. A second later, with no coercion at all, she closed her lips around my cock again, sucked and swallowed without a single question or complaint. Angie would be much more willing to lap up another woman’s pussy juice, directly from the source, than Spyder knew.
The End of Chapter Nine
(c) Copyright September 2001 by Jefferson James. All rights reserved. No portion of this story may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the author, except for a single copy, by and for the person reading this notice, for private reading.