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Jailbait & Switch
by
Vulgar Argot
(Mf, MF, MFf, Ff, exhib, oral, anal, cons, rom, caution)
Michael had been working as
a photographer's assistant for nearly three years when Amanda walked into his
life. He'd thought he had it pretty good. Graduating from college with a
degree in art history and no idea what he wanted to do with himself, he'd pretty
much stumbled onto a convivially drunk John Powers at a party and been
offered the job in a burst of goodwill.
He hadn't realized how
drunk the older photographer had been until he showed up for work on Monday
and John asked who he was. Michael explained with some trepidation. John had
been skeptical at first, but after a cup of coffee and a conversation, he'd
started to piece together enough of his memory to realize that he had offered
Michael a job the night before. He didn't particularly need an assistant, but
was a man of his word.
Over the next few months,
Michael had worked hard to prove himself a worthwhile part of John's
business. He cleaned the studio, prepared the equipment, answered the phones,
and did whatever it took to be indispensable.
Even if he hadn't needed
the money, which wasn't much, he would have wanted to keep this job after the
first week. While he'd had some limited success with women during college,
he'd never been surrounded by so much female beauty as he was every day
working with John.
Of course, he frequently
reminded himself, these weren't legally women for the most part. A few
were--models who had worked with John for years and only trusted him to work
with them. But, most of the girls he worked with were just that--girls,
ranging from fourteen years old on up. There were more than a dozen of them
that worked with John.
Besides being underage,
these girls were uniformly, heartbreakingly beautiful. Any one of them would
have driven him insane if he'd known them when he was their age. As it was,
he had a hard time remembering how young they were far too often.
Once he realized what John
did for a living, Michael thought it must be some sort of seedy set up. But,
he'd soon been disabused of that notion. The girls were usually dropped off
at the studio by their mothers, who seemed to know and like John. More
importantly, neither John nor Michael was ever left alone with the models.
Whenever they were in the studio or on location, there was a chaperone along.
More significantly, the chaperone turned out to be John's wife. She may have
been half John's age, but that was still almost as old as Michael
himself--certainly old enough to be legal. Even so, surrounded by as much
pulchritude as she was, John's wife, Rachel, was stunningly beautiful with
Sephardic good looks and the dark hair and eyes that went with them. She was
pretty enough at unguarded moments, but when she smiled, it was blinding. She
was the most beautiful woman Michael had ever seen.
That was until he saw
Amanda. Rachel was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. Amanda was the
most beautiful woman he'd ever imagined. She was the sort of woman men
fantasized about. She walked in the door with her hair in a ponytail and
almost no makeup, but she was already model beautiful.
Michael had been working at
his desk in the studio when she came in. There was nothing on the schedule
today. So, he was catching up on paperwork, filing, and that sort of thing.
He'd dimly heard the elevator doors open and close when she stepped out, but
assumed it was John or Rachel. She came right over in front of his desk and
said, "Hi."
Michael's head shot up from
his work at the unexpected voice. And, there she stood--the woman of his
dreams. He'd never dreamed of her, but knew immediately that he would.
Of course, she wasn't
exactly a woman. Michael had gotten pretty good at guessing girls' ages and
pegged her at fifteen or sixteen. She was barely over five feet tall, but had
all the curves and valleys of a full-grown woman. Strike that. She had all
the curves and valleys full-grown women prayed for. She was curvy and
voluptuous and had the high, firm, full breasts that no woman kept after the
ripe old age of twenty or so. What really made her gorgeous were her pouty,
unbelievably kissable lips.
"Uh, hi," he
said, pleasantly surprised to find that he still had the power of speech.
"Are you Mr.
Powers?" she asked.
Michael wished he were.
This vision wasn't here to see him. She was here to see John.
"No," he said.
"I'm Michael. John is scouting locations today. Can I help you with
something?"
She nodded and held out a
hand to shake, "I'm Amanda. Mr. Powers told me to come in today to do
some portfolio work and audition for him."
Michael frowned as he took
her hand. It was warm, soft, and dry, "Are you sure? He's driving down
to DC tonight. I don't expect him in."
Amanda looked uncertain, then gave him a pretty frown, "No. I'm really not
certain. I'm afraid I do this sort of thing all the time." She stamped
her foot, "Dammit!"
Her features had clouded
over. Combined with the permanent pout of her lips, she looked like she might
cry at any minute. Michael immediately rose to reassure her, "Listen,
I'm sure it was just a little mix up. I can check his schedule for you."
Amanda nodded, "Would
you please?"
Michael did, opening John's
scheduler on his computer and searching on her name, "Here it is,"
he said. "It looks like he's expecting you next Monday."
Now, Amanda's eyes widened
even as her expression got darker, "No. That's can't be right. I can't
wait another week for that portfolio work. It cost a fortune for me to get to
Her panic was starting to
become infectious, but Michael forced himself to be calm, "Don't
worry," he said. "I'll call John on his cell phone. I'm sure he'll
be able to find time for you tomorrow."
"You are?" Amanda
asked, giving him a look of gratitude that almost made him moan with the
intensity of his body's response.
Michael wasn't really sure.
John was swamped. But, he doubted the photographer would want to let this one
go, "Let me call him. Why don't you sit down and relax?"
Amanda nodded and did as he
suggested. Michael called John's cell phone, but it went straight to
voicemail.
"He's not
answering," said Michael. "Listen, why don't you leave your contact
information and I'll get back to you as soon as I hear from him."
"No," said
Amanda. She was on her feet, holding him by the arms, "Is there any way
we can do this now?"
"What?" asked Michael. "You and me?"
Amanda nodded rigorously,
"Yeah. Aren't you a photographer?"
For some reason, Michael
didn't want to admit to only being an assistant, so he just nodded,
"But, I can't work with you without a chaperone."
"I can
chaperone," said the author, stepping out from behind the scenery.
Both their heads spun
around to see the newcomer, who seemed to have materialized out of thin air.
"Who are you?"
asked Michael. "How did you get in here?"
"I'm the author,"
said the author. "I wrote...or, more correctly am
writing this story."
"What story?"
asked Amanda.
"This story,"
said the author. "The one you two are in. You don't think this sort of
thing happens in real life. Do you? If girls like you really existed, half
the men on the east coast would be in jail."
Amanda blushed at the
compliment, "So, I'm not real."
The author shrugged,
"Sorry. Worse luck, you're not even a fully-formed story. I only wrote
this piece so that the spammers who use spiders and search bots to steal
adult stories from free sites like asstr-mirror.org and storiesonline.net and then
repost them on sites full of pop up ads, blind links, and, in some cases,
spyware, trojans, viruses and worse."
"Why would anyone do
that?" asked Amanda.
"Good question,"
said the author. "They do it as a way to clutter sites like Google and
drive traffic to themselves."
Michael frowned, "Why
would anyone bother to read these stories on spammer sites if they can read
them for free with no ads of any kind on sites like asstr-mirror.org and
storiesonline.net?"
The author chuckled,
"It's probably because they don't know those sites exist."
"We should educate
them," said Amanda.
"I think we just
did," said the author. "Listen, I've got to get back to work on my
real stories. You kids have a great time, though." His eyes twinkled
with barely-contained naughtiness, "After all, I wrote you for that
purpose."
"Wait!" said
Amanda. "Are you God?"
The author laughed,
"No. Actually, I'm an atheist. My name is Vulgar Argot. But, just this
once, I'm going to spell it Vlugaar Arogt so that I can find this story later
when scumbags steal it and get it thrown off their ISPs."
Amanda grinned,
"Pretty clever. But, once you leave, is the story just going to
end?"
"Not exactly,"
said the author. "You two will continue your story off camera. The rest
of the scenes in this will actually be from my other stories. They're really
only there to make sure I hit all the sex keywords and lots of spammers troll
this story into their archives."
"Thanks for providing
a convenient explanation of our continued existence," said Michael.
"Such as it is."
"Yeah," said
Amanda. "I appreciate it, Vlugaar."
The author turned and faced
them and, with a snap of his fingers, was gone.
-=-
From "Best &
Brightest:"
Nuria started to answer,
but felt
"Why not, Miss
D?" Pearl asked, "Don't you like girls?"
Nuria leaned back against
the taller girl, "I'm not up to being teased tonight. I don't..."
"Who's teasing?"
Nuria leaned farther into
Pearl laughed and slid her
hands free long enough to pull the straps of the funeral dress off of Nuria's
shoulders, letting it drop to the floor.
"I shouldn't,"
Nuria whispered, "It wouldn't be fair to you. I'll still probably sleep
with Quentin. It's just..."
"I don't want to be
your girlfriend," said
Finally giving up the
fight, Nuria raised her arms, her hands finding the back of
"Me,
too," said
"After you gave her a
ride home, too," mocked Nuria as she lowered
"Careful," said
Nuria nodded. With one
hand, she pushed
As Nuria lay there, her
hips rising and falling gently,
"Sorry," said
Nuria, forcing her hand to relax, "It's just..."
"It's
flattering," said
"Two years is a long
time," said Nuria by way of explanation. Then, she found herself unable
to speak as
It was over too soon, Nuria
thought, but a glance at the clock told her differently.
Pearl chuckled, "I do
my best work with an enthusiastic audience. Did you take notes?"
Nuria smiled, "I
didn't have time to study, but I'll do much best." She guided
"If you do that,"
Nuria said, "I'm never going to be able to concentrate on what I'm
doing."
Her mouth at
"Easy," said
Nuria gently, smiling, "or one of us is coming out of this
injured."
"Earlier," said
Nuria who hadn't meant she
would scare Quentin away like that at all, smiled at the compliment
nonetheless. Before she could formulate her response, she was asleep.
-=-
From "What's Wrong
With Anne Turing:"
The new man tracked her
with his eyes. She turned to him. "Dr. Horton, I think I'm having
blackouts."
He took a penlight out of
his bag, walked up to Anne, and shone it in her eye. She backed up, startled,
until she was pressed against her desk.
Dr. Horton smiled at her.
"Just try to relax. What's your name?"
"Anne Turing,"
said Anne. As she said it, she slid up so she was sitting on the edge of the
desk.
"Anne, you're burning
up," said Dr. Horton. He picked up the black bag and set it on the desk
next to her. Drawing out a thermometer, he said, "Open wide."
Anne nodded and spread her
legs, trapping him between them. "Oh God, Jonathan. I was beginning to
wonder if anyone was going to ask."
Dr. Horton shook his head.
"I meant 'open your mouth.'"
"Oh," said Anne,
smiling widely. "I understand now. She slid off the desk, dropping to
her knees. Her hands undid Dr. Horton's zipper, stripping down his pants and
underwear with practiced ease. He sprang to arousal immediately. Anne took
him into her mouth, running her tongue up and down the bottom of his member.
"Ungh,"
said Dr. Horton. He tried to pull away from Anne's mouth, but she laid her
hands on his buttocks, pushing his cock into her throat.
"Anne," he
moaned, "you have to stop this. You've got a very high fever. You've
obviously delirious."
Anne pulled him out of her
mouth long enough to shake her head, "I'm in optimum physical condition
and no immediate danger. I just really need this." Then, she took him
into her throat again. He struggled for a few more seconds, but Anne knew she
was very capable and fairly irresistible. Soon, he was thrusting back against
her face as she sucked him.
When she felt he was close
to finishing, Anne took him out of her mouth and stood up. "Would you
like to fuck me?" she purred.
Dr. Horton nodded, drawing
her to him, unzipping her skirt. Anne giggled, "Would you like to see my
breasts? Even when you thought I was dying, you couldn't keep your eyes off
them." When he nodded, Anne slid up her lime green top. She knew she had
the sort of breasts men dreamed about. The sight of them
even made Dr. Horton forget about fucking her for a few minutes while
he lowered his head to kiss and lick them. Anne moaned and gasped while he
did it.
"You really
should..." said Dr. Horton, "wear a bra to work."
Anne giggled. "I
would, Jonathan, but I don't seem to own any."
For some reason, that
seemed to arouse Dr. Horton even further. He spun her around, bending her
over the desk and dragging her panties down. Anne spread her legs to be
entered. He obliged her, burying himself between her legs. Anne drove back
against him as he plunged into her.
"Oh, God," Anne
growled, "fuck me hard." By that point, Dr. Horton needed no
encouraging. He was pounding into her. Anne found herself coming almost
immediately. She realized now that a lot of her uneasiness since starting
this job was the sense that she should be having sex and no one was having
sex with her. She relished the feel of Dr. Horton's hard cock inside her. She
was enjoying it so much that, as he neared climax, she tightened her muscles
against him, forcing some pressure out of his engorged member until he pushed
away from the edge of orgasm.
"You know,"
gasped Anne, "you can fuck me any way you like."
Dr. Horton nodded, pulling
out just long enough to take her anally. Anne continued to gasp and moan,
careful to keep the sounds modulated enough that people working in the next
offices wouldn't hear her.
This time, when Dr. Horton
neared orgasm, Anne sensed that stopping him again would probably cause him
to finish in disappointment. Instead, she bucked against him, whispering,
"Oh, Jonathan, you're amazing." He came hard inside her, panting her
name.
Dr. Horton was just
standing up, looking dazed when Doctors Garvin and Andrews came strolling in.
The jovial look on Dr. Garvin's face disappeared when he saw the tableau.
Anne leapt up from the desk to close the door behind them, pulling up her
panties as she went.
When she had closed the
door, she turned around and asked, "So, are all of you going to fuck me
today?"
-=-
From "Stone Fox:"
At her back door, Linnea turned to face him, "Thank you for walking me
home, Stephen."
Stephen leaned down,
drawing her to him. Linnea was startled, but didn't
protest as he kissed her. She didn't commit to the kiss either, refusing to
melt against his body.
When he took a breath, Linnea said, "Stephen." There was a hint of
real alarm in her voice. He didn't seem to be listening. He leaned down and
kissed her again. With one hand, Linnea clutched
him to her. With the other, she pounded ineffectually on his shoulder.
When he let her go again, Linnea said, "Stephen, I can't."
There was laughter in
Stephen's eye, but something far more dangerous too, "Why not?"
"You're too
young," Linnea said, expressing the first
thought in her head. She knew how weak it sounded after what she'd already
done tonight.
Stephen must have known,
but he didn't take that approach, instead saying, "That's not really a
disadvantage in this sort of thing" as he gently pushed her back against
the wall, leaning down for another kiss.
Linnea
placed her hand on his chest, "Stephen, how
would I ever face your parents?"
He kissed her forehead,
"My father is ten years older than my mother. I suspect they would
understand."
"Stephen," Linnea said, sliding down the wall until she found the
doorknob and opened the door, "I really can't."
Slipping inside, she
thought for a moment that she was safe, but Stephen followed her in, closing
the door behind him. For a moment, Linnea thought
that Stephen was no longer interested in getting her consent. He breath caught in her chest."
"Please, Mrs.
Madison," he said, his voice ragged. "Don't send me away."
Linnea
looked up into his eyes, "Stephen..."
Stephen straightened up,
turning back towards the door, dejection already clear in his posture.
She took his arm, turning
him back towards her, "I think you should call me Linnea."
Stephen drew her up
fiercely into his arms, kissing her as her feet dangled below. Linnea moaned, her hands pressed against his chest
through his t-shirt. She groaned in release.
Pinned against the wall in
her back hallway, Linnea closed her eyes and felt
Stephen raining kisses on her neck and shoulders. There was no patience to
him. His hands were already stripping off her sweater and tank top. Linnea reached back to undo her bra, but his hands were
faster, undoing the clasp and pulling away the fabric.
He lowered his head to one
breast and then the other, kissing and licking her nipples. She couldn't
remember the last time anyone had touched her with such ardor.
"Linnea,"
he gasped. "Oh God, Linnea. I can't tell you
how long I've wanted to do this."
She pressed his head to
her, encouraging him to kiss and stroke her breasts. Already, the cumulative
effect of the evening was catching up to her. Linnea's
pace was quickening. Her body was aching for release. Reaching down, she
undid his belt and pants, reaching in to stroke his cock.
Stephen caught her wrist,
"If you keep doing that, I'm not going to get through this."
Linnea
smiled, "You're young. You'll recover."
Before Stephen could answer, she'd turned them around so that he was leaning
against the wall and was stripping off his pants and underpants. He tried to
catch her hair and stop her, but Linnea was determined
to take him into her mouth. Once she had, the fight went out of him. He lay one hand lightly on the back of her head, urging her
forward.
Linnea
didn't need much urging. It had been a long time
since she'd wanted to do this for anyone. Licking him from the base of the
shaft to the base of the head, she cupped Stephen's balls in her hand. Her
technique came back to her quickly. It was a good thing too because it didn't
take long before he exploded into her mouth, a groan of pleasure and release
coming to his lips.
Linnea
rose, wiping her lips with the back of her hand as
she swallowed. Before she could say anything, Stephen's powerful arms were
around her, lifting her.
"Stephen," Linnea said, startled and a little bit panicked. But, he
wasn't listening. He carried her up the hall into her bedroom, laying her
flat on her bed.
"God, Stephen," Linnea said, laughing.
"I want you, Linnea," he said earnestly. "I can't wait to be
inside of you." Even as he spoke, he was stripping off the rest of her
clothes. Stroking her breasts briefly with his hands again, he knelt on the
floor.
Linnea
had only a moment to brace herself as she felt
Stephen kissing the inside of her knee, then her thighs. Then, her tongue was
inside of her, alternately probing and teasing her clit.
That was all it took. Linnea felt her body begin to shake with waves of
pleasure. She'd been close to the edge for a long time. Stephen slid a
finger, then a second one inside of her. Linnea
moaned and squirmed against him.
"Oh,
God...Stephen," she moaned, not laughing this time.
"You're going to get
it now, Lin," he said. "If you'd let me have you in the hallway, it
could have been over quickly. Now, I'm going to take my time with you."
Linnea
did laugh then. Doing her best impression of a
movie heroine, she said, "Do your worst."
Stephen slid one finger out
of her, teasing it against the entrance to her ass.
Linnea's
eyes widened, "Stephen," she squealed.
Stephen kissed her belly,
"That's not even close to my worst." Linnea
shuddered, both at the tone of his voice and at the insistence of his finger,
sliding past her sphincter. Hal had never entered her like that.
For a long time, Linnea just lay there, trembling as he let his fingers
penetrate her from both sides while his tongue teased her clit. She was
coming as hard as she could ever remember coming, her hands tugging on
Stephen's hair, nails digging into his scalp. It was all she could do not to
hurt him.
When his fingers finally
slid out of her, Linnea thought she was getting a
reprieve, but he lifted her hips, pulling her to his face. When his tongue
slid past her sphincter, she cried out in disbelief, then pleasure. After a
few seconds, she forced herself to relax and let the sensation wash over her.
"Stephen," Linnea heard herself begging, "please fuck me. I
need you inside of me."
Stephen stood up enough to
look into her eyes, "Soon enough, Linnea."
"God," she cried
out, partly in exasperation, "I don't remember boys your age having so
much patience."
Stephen smiled down at her,
"I waited years for this. What's another hour or two?"
Linnea
sat up on her elbows, alarmed, "Hours?"
Stephen grinned wickedly,
realizing that she'd fallen for his joke. Linnea
grabbed the back of his head, kissing him ferociously, pulling him down on
top of her. She could feel his cock, hard against her leg.
"Fuck me," she
begged again.
Stephen put his hand
between her legs, stroking her again. Linnea,
already feeling weak with pleasure, spread her legs even wider, wrapping them
around his waist, trying to pull him inside of her.
Stephen's grin was
positively wicked, "Who's the impatient one, Linnea?"
She growled at him, nails
digging into his buttocks, "Fuck me."
Finally, Stephen complied,
driving into her. Linnea cried out in pleasure and
triumph. As patient as Stephen had been a few minutes earlier, he pounded
into her now with urgency, as if he thought that he could possess or destroy
her by doing so.
Linnea
was beyond words now. She made animal noises,
grunting and squealing as Stephen claimed her. He didn't seem to be much more
controlled. As hard as he pounded into her, she wanted more. Her hands held
his buttocks. Her hips rose to meet him.
As Stephen had warned her,
the release the Linnea had given him had dissipated
much of his urgency. As ferocious as he was, it went on for a long time. Both
of them were drenched in sweat when Linnea looked
up at him, "What's going to happen if you don't get back to your
party?"
Stephen laughed, slowing
his pace, but still inside of her, "It's their graduation too. Mike Woodhead promised to douse the fire before he left if I
hadn't. Not getting bored with this, are you?"
Linnea
laughed, "God, no. But, I am going to be sore
tomorrow."
Stephen reached down,
stroking her rosebud again, "We could always try another angle."
Linnea
closed her eyes, her breathing shallow, "I've
never done that before."
"We don't have
to..."
"No," she
whispered. "I'd like to try."
Stephen nodded, sliding out
of her. In spite of herself, Linnea whimpered at
the loss. Stephen lifter her, piling pillows below her hips before turning
her over.
"Take it slowly,"
she whispered.
Stephen laid
on top of her, stretching out to retrieve a bottle of Vitamin E oil she'd
been using to soften a scar on her elbow from her side table. He held it up,
"Can I use this?"
"What for?" Linnea asked before his wicked grin told her exactly what
is was for. A few second later, she felt his oily finger probing its way
inside of her, slipping easily inside her bottom. Even the process of oiling
her up was almost more pleasure than Linnea thought
she could bear.
"Oh, God," she
said weakly.
A couple of minutes later,
she felt the finger withdraw.
"Start gently,"
she begged.
Stephen kissed the back of
her head, nodding against her. Then, Linnea felt
the head of his cock pressing against her, insistent. In spite of herself,
she tensed against him. With all of the oil, he slid in anyway. Linnea gasped and moaned at the same time as he began to
rock against her, slowly moving in and out.
"Oh, God," she
cried out, grabbing the headboard with both hands. "Oh, Stephen."
Stephen was impatient
again. Linnea thought she was going to have to beg
him to take it slower, but suddenly the pain and pressure began to subside,
leaving only pleasure.
For a long time, neither of
them spoke. The only sound was the creak of the bedsprings, the occasional
moans and gasps of pleasure, and the distant pounding of the bass. When Linnea felt Stephen growing larger inside of her, she
knew it wouldn't last much longer.
Leaning back, she nipped
playfully at his earlobe, then whispered throatily,
"Come inside of me." That was all that it took. Stephen came hard,
filling her with hot seed, crying out as if it hurt almost as much as it felt
good.
Afterwards, they lay, locked
together for as long as possible. When Stephen finally shrunk out of her, she
turned in his arms, nestling against his damp chest, licking the sweat off of
it. With a naughty chuckle, she said, "Thank you, Stephen."
Stephen laughed, "Any
time, Linnea."
When Stephen's breathing
had slowed to sleep, Linnea wriggled out of his
arms, intent of getting in the shower before she fell asleep. She'd only been
under the hot jets a few minutes when he pulled back the shower curtain and
stepped in behind her.
Taking the soap from her,
Stephen lathered her up, stroking her body from neck to knee. As Linnea rinsed herself off, she realized with disbelief
that he was fully erect again behind her. Before she could commend, his hand
was between her legs, spreading her open. He entered her without preamble.
Linnea
closed her eyes and braced herself against the wall
as he claimed her again. It was over relatively quickly, but not before her
body was again trembling with the pleasure of it.
"God, Stephen,"
she said after he came. "You're going to kill me."
"I hope not," he
said, chuckling.
-=-
From "Double
Dealing:"
"I think," he
said menacingly, "that a penalty needs to be assessed."
"What?" asked
"Michelle is dealing
to herself from the bottom of the deck," said Sebastian, "That's
why she suddenly got really good at poker all of a sudden."
"I am not," said
Michelle indignantly.
"No?" said
Sebastian, "Then, let's see your hand. And, let's see the three cards on
the bottom of the deck."
"You're disrupting the
hand," said Michelle, her tone desperate.
"Fine," said
Sebastian, "If I'm wrong, I'll take a penalty myself. Your choice. But,
I'm not wrong, am I?"
"Vote," said
Sebastian, his voice ringing like a gavel.
"Guilty as hell,"
said
"No question,"
said Sakura, "Caught red handed."
"Sebastian, what
penalty do you suggest?" asked
"I say she forfeits
all her clothes," said Sebastian. He still hadn't let go of her wrist.
"Hey," said
Sakura, "I had to give a lap dance. I say she forfeits all of her
clothes and has to give each of us a timed lap dance."
"I can still back out,
right?" asked Michelle, smiling nervously.
"No," said Sakura
emphatically.
"It is the will of
this court," said
Michelle looked back and
forth among the three of them, "Guys..."
"Strip," said
Michelle sighed, then
leaned down and stripped off her shoes and socks. When she stood back up,
Then, Sakura slinked over
to her. Standing in front of Michelle, so close they were almost kissing, she
undid the snap of Michelle's pants and unzipped them. Then, her hands circled
around Michelle's waist. When she slid the pants down, she did it with her
whole body. her hands flowing over the curve of her.
In the shadows, Sebastian couldn't see what she did with her mouth, but
Michelle shuddered in pleasure and bit her fist.
"There will be no
further fist biting," said
Then, it was Sebastian's
turn. He'd wanted Michelle for so long that it had become a dull, background
ache. It flared up now. Trembling almost as much as she was, he stood directly
in front of her, towering over her by almost a foot. She tilted her head
back, staring up at him with liquid black eyes. Sebastian stared at them for
a long moment, seeking any sign of betrayal or pain. But, all he saw was
anticipation and maybe a little bit of fear.
Going down on one knee so
that he was face-to-face with her, he grasped the sides of Michelle's
panties. She closed her eyes. Emulating Sakura, he let his whole body move as
he stripped them off, his hands cupping and kneading her ass and legs while
he went, his face so close to her that his nostrils were filled with the
scent of her excitement. After she had stepped out of the panties, he rose,
trailing fingertips up the inside of her thigh, pressing them gently against
the entrance to her flesh as he passed the apex of her legs with them.
Michelle's knees gave way, but
"Now," said
Michelle sat on
"Kissing up to the
judge is not going to reduce your sentence," growled
Nodding, Michelle began to
undulate, sliding up and down
When the hourglass had run
out, Sakura said, "My turn."
As soon as she began to
move, Sakura reached up and began to fondle Michelle's breasts. She was much
less gentle than
"No," said
Michelle, her body arching as Sakura pinched both nipples at once, "too
much."
Sakura let one hand float
down to Michelle's belly, the other drifting between her legs and stroking.
Michelle began to moan loudly, writhing with pleasure as Sakura's fingers
expertly probed her depths. Her whole body was shuddering now, the muscles in
her legs and jaw taut, firelight reflecting off of the sweat she was covered
with.
For a long time, Sakura
expertly molested her, groping stroking and teasing. To Sebastian, it
appeared that Michelle was having one continuous orgasm, her whole body
shaking violently. Sebastian glanced at the empy
hourglass, then at
When Sakura finally rose
from the chair, Michelle just slumped into it.
"Your turn,
chief," said
By now, Michelle had really
gotten the hang of lap dancing. She slid all over Sebastian's lap, her hands
stroking his chest. Sebastian's own hands stroked her buttocks, her back, her
shoulders, then ran down over her breasts before landing on her inner thighs.
Michelle wrapped an arm
around Sebastian's head, putting her breasts in his face. She whispered his
name, loudly enough for everyone in the room to hear. But Sebastian found he
was paralyzed. He couldn't touch her the way she was begging to be touched.
Michelle looked down at him. He looked up with pleading and fear in his eyes.
There was a momentary flash of compassion in hers, then
she pivoted on his lap, facing away from him.
Grinding herself into his
groin, she reached up and very deliberately bit her fist at
Sakura climbed up on
Sebastian's lap, facing him and Michelle. Taking Michelle's wrist, she pulled
the hand to her side. Then, she leaned in and kissed Michelle full on the mouth, grinding up against her, a lap dance
within a lap dance. As she did so, she took Sebastian's hand and guided it
between Michelle's thighs. Sebastian plunged his fingers into Michelle, who
spread her legs wider to allow them entrance.
"Oh, God," she
cried out. Again and again, she cried it out. Sakura slid down from the
chair, kneeling in front of it, kissing Michelle's thighs and Sebastian's
hand until he moved it out of the way and she could slide her tongue deep
inside of Michelle.
Michelle bucked again until
Sebastian grabbed her hips with his hands, forcing her to hold still under
the onslaught of Sakura's tongue. Michelle was coming so hard that tears were
rolling down her cheeks now.
In the meantime, Sakura had
reached under Michelle and managed to undo Sebastian's pants. Sebastian rose
enough that she was able to strip them off of him. When he came down,
Michelle was poised, trembling, on his glans. He grasped her hips again,
driving her down onto him. Michelle arched like she had been struck by
lightning. Sebastian drove her hips up and down on him. She cried out
wordlessly at the pleasure of it.
Now, Sakura was sitting on
Sebastian's lap again, balancing on his shoulder. She took
Sakura stood to plant
kisses on
Michelle came almost
immediately as she sat, facing away from Sebastian, taking him completely
inside. Sakura crawled over on her belly, sliding her tongue inside of
Michelle from the front. Michelle clawed at the air as she came, like a cat
who couldn't reach her prey.
When Sakura finally rolled
away,
Sebastian came inside of
Michelle, a cry of pleasure ripping free from his throat. As he slid out,
Sebastian pushed her back
to the poker table, bent her over the felt, and entered her anally, fully
erect as soon as Sakura had spoken. He'd had such mixed result with
suggesting this act to other women in the past that he hadn't broached the
subject yet. This was unexplored territory for him. He pounded into her,
shaking the table and spilling chips onto the floor. Michelle was lying on
her back, legs spread, too spent to even look up.
They fell asleep like that,
naked, sprawled and tangled in front of the fire, each touching all of the
others. None of them bothered to climb into a sleeping bag until well past
dawn. None bothered to climb out until they heard the fuel truck pull up and
a knock on the door from the driver. When Sebastian slid out of the bag and
into his pants to stagger to the door, he couldn't say for sure who had been
in the bag with him. Soon enough, he would have to figure it out. But, he
decided that at least for today, it didn't matter so much.
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