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This is an erotic story. It includes explicit descriptions of sexual
acts. None of the things described in this story actually happened (big
surprise). If it's illegal for you to read stuff like this, then you
shouldn't.
YOUTHFUL ENTERPRISE (Mf ff anal feet)
(Codes apply to complete story, not individual chapters)
Written by Ossified
Chapter 4
Mr. Aitken hasn't asked me to wear anything special, and it's a relief since he might not be a big fat pervert like Mr. Crane. Ballet tutu! I mean, *really*! How do guys come up with this stuff? It's, like, so-o-o tacky.
When Mr. Aitken lets me in I see he's in his thirties and not bad looking at all. I'm guessing he works out since he's kind of fit, and I feel positive about this whole job. He takes me into the kitchen and gives me a cup of tea. It's a sweet and unexpected gesture, and makes me like him. Would have preferred a Coke though. Maybe a milkshake. Love those. Anyway, he sits me down and asks me which school I go to. Since he's acting like a normal person and not a dirty old man, I'm off guard and I actually tell him. He seems very pleased at this, which is kind of weird. I'm thinking he might stalk me or something.
Then he tells me that he doesn't live here - he's just house-sitting for his neighbours. He asks if I know this girl, Susan Gilmore, which I do. Then it hits me that I've actually been here before, in this house, when Susan had a huge birthday party years ago. She's the same age as me, goes to my school and everything. Pretty, if you like the thin, gangly type. We don't hang out, since she's actually a whiney little bitch. Never got over me stealing her boyfriend when we were, like, six or something, and she's been really mean ever since.
Anyway, it turns out that Mr. Aitken is, surprise, a pervert after all. He totally fancies Susan, and now that he has the run of her house he's booked me to, well..., be her I guess. He tells me he's been spying on her and taking pictures and things, and it amazes me that he has no idea how creepy I find this. It's like he thinks I want to know about it, and that I'll think it's cool or romantic or something. I REALLY don't. I think about calling this whole thing off, but then I don't like Susan much and it's a lot of money, so I stay.
So this Aitken guy takes me upstairs to Susan's room, and it sucks that her room is nicer than mine. She has this big four-poster, her own TV, and she's tidier than me too. Of course, I immediately go to her dresser where I'm guessing her diary is, but I can't find it. Even though I'm dying to search more since she might have written about me, Mr. Creepy probably doesn't want to pay me for doing that so I just let it go. Instead I walk around her room slowly, playing with my ponytail and wriggling my bum, doing various poses designed to let Mr. Aitken have a good look at me.
When I turn to see the look on his face, he's actually not paying attention at all. Instead he's tracing his finger over Susan's furniture and fondling some of her dirty laundry. How rude can you be? Here I am, working hard and doing my best to turn him on, and he's more into this distinctly un-hip jumper which Susan has left on the chair.
I realize he's desperately horny for Susan, and I must say I find it pathetic. I mean, he's, like, twenty years older than her. I can see how he'd want to do her and everything, but fall in love? That's just not on. Personally, I don't see what the big deal is with Susan anyway. She's always complaining about everything, and she's not THAT pretty. If I could steal her boyfriend back then, how can she be better looking than I am? She's kind of stuck-up too, come to think of it.
"Wish I was as pretty as Susan," I go, and I'm not even fishing for compliments here since everyone at school knows I'm hotter than Susan fucking Gilmore. I mean, PLEASE! Can't believe the pervert likes HER.
I suppose I should be earning my pay soon, but I'm stumped since he's not paying much attention to me. Of course I have absolutely no idea how to act like Susan, but I figure Mr. Aitken doesn't really know her that well either so he won't notice.
I think us young girls all seem the same to these guys. Except the looks of course, which is ALL they notice. It's like they can't get past the tits and ass and see that some of us have these amazing, deep souls, and it's really annoying sometimes. It's like, 'Helllooo, there's an actual person her! With opinions and feelings and stuff'. They're like mum and dad really.
Oh well, I'm trying to figure out how to do the Susan bit, but Mr. Aitken has his own ideas about this. He's been to the hamper and now he's piled Susan's smelly old clothes in the corner. The prat is sniffing and stroking them, not paying ANY attention to me, and of course, he wants me to wear them. Yuck! He's sifting through bras and tops and knickers and skirts until he finds what he wants me to wear, and he's treating every piece of her dirty clothing like it's a museum exhibit which is, like, totally creepy and annoying.
Being a middle-of-the-road pervert, Mr. Aitken decides on Susan's school uniform. Yawn. The blouse is okay, the short-sleeved one and no tie since it's still summer. Even smells sweet from this really nice, flowery perfume Susan seems to wear. Skirt's a bit grubby though, and when I smell the kneesocks it's not nice at all. MY feet sure don't smell that much.
Actually, Susan's kneesocks smell like our hall does when my pesky little sister takes off her sneakers - a penetrating, full-bodied smell of feet with a pungent sting to it. My sister's favourite thing in the whole world is to place her feet in my lap and get a foot rub, but I only do this when I'm in a really good mood. Her feet are like a toxic waste dump or something. Although she takes off her crusty socks, it's still not something I do unless she's been really nice to me. Which is, like, never.
Mr. Aitken seems to like Susan's kneesocks though, since he presses them to his face and inhales deeply before giving them to me. Gross! When I roll them on he finally pays attention, since I do this in a really slow and sexy way.
I've left my knickers on, and they're these really nice, soft, pink ones which I love, but Mr. Aitken wants me to wear Susan's dirty old schoolgirl panties, which is just too much.
"Eeewww! You can't be serious! You want me to wear Susan's knickers? Is this, like, a joke?"
"You have to. It's important."
Yeah right! It's very, very important. The sky will fall if I don't put on Susan Gilmore's dirty underpants. Idiot!
I look at the white cotton in my hand, and either Susan wore them while snogging her dog-like boyfriend, or she has a crush on her teacher, 'cause she's been seriously aroused wearing these. From the heavy, musky smell I figure it's not that long ago either. I point this out to Mr. Pervert, but he doesn't react like I'd hoped.
"Please Mr. Aitken. They smell of her twat and everything. Look; they're even sticky. You don't actually want me to wear these, do you? Please?"
"Of course I do. Why do you think I've kept them in a zip-lock bag since yesterday? I want you to smell like her."
OH MY GOD. He's done WHAT? That's just gross. Keeping girl's knickers in a zip-lock bag! Can't believe the imagination these stuffy old gits have when it comes to preying on us girls. Why can't they put that energy into something useful instead of smelly underwear? Eeewww!
"Well, if you really want me to, I guess I could wear them. You know, if that will make you want to have sex and stuff."
Am I a professional or what? No wrinkling my nose, no more protesting - nothing. I just bend over and flip up the pleated skirt, showing him my twat from behind as I pull down my own lovely, fresh, pink knickers and put on Susan's creamed-out, yucky cotton ones. This is why I get paid like I do. Not many girls would do this.
To complete the picture he makes me wear this gold necklace from Susan's jewellery box, and it's totally inappropriate since it's a cross.
When I'm all dressed in Susan's school uniform, Mr. Aitken tells me to sit down at her desk and pretend to do homework. This sounds very dull to me and not like a hot fantasy at all, but I do as he says. I sit looking blindly at this book and I'm not even sure what it's about, but I'm chewing my pencil and doing all the schoolgirly stuff which guys want. I'm twitching my nose, brushing hair away, stroking my neck, playing with the necklace and generally doing what bored girls do when they study. What is it about this that turns guys on? Personally I think they're just morons.
Anyway, he doesn't talk to me or anything. He just sits there for a while, looking at me. Then he comes over and starts stroking my hair, kissing my neck and nibbling my ear. It's not so bad. Then he puts his hand down my blouse and underneath my bra, fondling my breasts really carefully. I lean my head back against his chest and purr, and he kisses the tip of my nose which just seems like a very sweet thing to do.
When Mr. Aitken is bored with this he asks me to go over to Susan's bed. I'm hardly there when he pounces at me, toppling me onto the bed. He's kissing and sniffing me, moaning 'Oh Susan' over and over, which pisses me off even though I know I'm supposed to pretend I'm her.
It's weird, but I can actually see why he made me wear her clothes. It's not like I can usually smell myself, but now I definitely notice I smell different. I start to notice all sorts of different scents that come from the stuff I'm wearing, and it feels really intimate and strange to be wearing someone else's clothes like this. It's kind of yucky that I smell like that bitch Susan Gilmore though. When I remember I'm wearing her dirty undies I shudder, but Mr. Aitken seems to think this is because I'm liking his attentions, and he groans.
He undresses, and his cock is sticking out. It's kind of large, but not scarily so, which is a good thing since he's going to do me up the arse later. Then he's back on the bed, and he's holding my feet to his face, fiddling with my toes and smelling my socks again. Well, Susan's socks really. The pervert really gets off on this, and he's actually wanking while doing it.
Then he kisses his way up my thighs, and I spread my legs for him, pulling up the grey pleated skirt so he can enjoy the knickers he so desperately wants me to wear. He gives this guttural moan and buries his face in my twat, really drinking in the smell of Susan's panties. Well, that's not all he's getting a whiff of. It's MY twat down there, you know. Fuck Susan!
Then Mr. Aitken flips me over onto my tummy and rubs his face all over my little panty-clad bum. He's shoving my panties into my bumcrack with his nose, and he's sort of stroking my arse with his cheeks too. He should have shaved better today, 'cause his stubble catches in the fabric. He's moaning into my ass, kissing my bumhole through the cotton. It's like I'm a rag doll, and he's just letting himself go, enjoying my body like I'm not here to judge him.
"Christ Susan, your arse is amazing."
Yes, well. It's not really Susan's arse, is it? It's MINE, and it's a damned sight better than Susan's, I can tell you that. I've seen her in the showers, and it just doesn't compare.
"Oh thank you Mr. Aitken. I'm really proud of it. Are you going to fuck it soon? I'm really looking forward to that. You promised you would, remember?"
I'm thinking this is way too silly, and he's going to tell me off for spoiling the mood. He doesn't though. He's just like all the other idiots. No matter how stupid the line, if you say what they want to hear, they get off on it.
Mr. Aitken grabs my hips and pulls me up on my hands and knees. He's sitting back and staring in awe at my bum, licking his lips like a hungry little boy in a sweet shop.
I reach behind, stroke my bum cheeks and play with the sticky gusset of Susan's panties. I even reach in through the leg band and rub myself a bit, since this outrageous setting is starting to turn me on just a teeny little bit. It feels good so I stop. NO WAY am I going to cum like this, on Susan's bed wearing her dirty knickers and everything.
Then I push the cotton panties back into my bumcrack and Mr. Aitken is all over me, kissing and smelling me again. He tugs at my knickers, pulling them down to my knees. Then he dives in, tonguing my twat, but he's not very good at it so it doesn't do much for me. Then he moves to my arse, and he's pressing the tip of his tongue inside, and this DEFINITELY does something for me. He's lapping at my bumhole, fucking it with the tip of his tongue, and this gets me going so I rub myself while he fucks my twat with his fingers.
Although I KNOW I'll be embarrassed thinking about this later, I go: "Ooohhh yes, Mr. Aitken. Lick my arse. Wriggle that tongue of yours up little Susan's bum," and I can't help moaning since it feels awesome when he does this.
He goes at it with renewed vigour when I mention Susan, and I'm really liking what he's doing. Then, of course, he stops. It's like these guys know when I'm enjoying something, and automatically stop doing it. Idiots.
Anyway, my bum is all loose and wet, so he thinks he can just slip his dick up my arse. Although he's not so big, it's not THAT easy, and I brace myself as he pushes against my tight little back hole. I manage to relax a bit, and he slips the head of his cock inside me. He has to pause again, but then I loosen up and he's all the way inside me, holding on to my hips really hard.
My arse feels, like, totally stuffed, and it's so tight he can hardly move at all. His dick is pulsing inside me, and it's so-o-o much nicer than when Mr. Lambson did my arse with his huge thing. Mr. Aitken starts to move, and when I get used to him he starts fucking my bum really hard. It's like, 'OH MY GOD. This is AMAZING' and he's pushing my face into Susan's pillows as he fucks my ass. He seems to like it too, 'cause he's moaning and groaning a lot.
What he's groaning is 'Oh God. Your bum is so tight,' and this is pretty much what Mr. Lambson said when he did my arse, so it must be true. Bet Susan's isn't half as nice.
I look over my shoulder and I see Mr. Aitken's hard, throbbing member stuck up my bum and it's sandwiched between my cheeks and it looks awesome. Totally horny. I start to rub myself, and Mr. Aitken must notice my fingers in my twat, since he groans and moans even more when I do this.
He stops fucking my bum for a minute while I tickle his balls. My fingers are really slick from fingering my sopping twat, and his balls are all tight and hard. Then his cock twitches urgently inside me, and I concentrate on getting myself off while he does the same.
I must be this shameless slut or something, because I really, really like the feeling of getting it up the arse and I cum before he does. Hard. It's like I'm stuck on this pole, and Mr. Aitken holds me up as I scream into Susan's pillow and gush all over my fingers.
This is too much for Mr. Aitken, and as my arse clamps rhythmically on his dick, he cums too. In my bum and everything. Just like that. Doesn't even ask if it's okay.
"Christ Susan. I can't help it. Your bum is just too tight. I'm... I'm cumming... I'm cumming up your tight little arse."
And this he does. A lot. It's like he's pouring all this hot, gooey cum up my rear end and he must have been saving it for weeks 'cause there's just so much of it. Although I've done this before, it still feels really weird having someone shoot off back there and I can't help grunting even though I hate it when I do that.
Finally he's spent and he falls away from my sweaty body, really exhausted. When his cock pops out of my bum, all this cum follows it and runs down my thighs, over my twat and everywhere. Can't see how Mr. Aitken is going to explain these stains on Susan' bedspread. It's on the skirt and kneesocks too, not to mention those yucky undies. Well, it's not my problem, thank God.
While I change he's talking to me like he still thinks I'm Susan, and it's REALLY starting to annoy me. Could Susan do what I just did? Don't THINK so. Prissy little bitch. Anyway, he's going on and on about how much he loves her, and if I liked Susan more I'd warn her about this prick.
When I leave he asks me if I can talk to Susan and find out if she'd be interested in him. Can you believe this prat? Susan may be kind of mean, but she's still a reasonably attractive young girl and Mr. Aitken is this hopeless loser. I tell him he should get a life and that there's NO WAY Susan would be interested in someone like him. He's not happy, but hey, I'm not all that happy either and he doesn't care about that, does he?
When I get home I still have Susan's necklace on, and Mr. Aitken is going to freak out when he can't find it.
I try to throw a curse on
it with a witch spell I learn off the internet. It's kind of fun
but doesn't work, and Susan shows up at school without a single zit. Totally annoying.
Continue to chapter 5
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