index


Message-ID: <46488asstr$1075896603@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "Al Steiner" <steiner_al@hotmail.com>
Subject: {ASSM} NEW: At the Faraway Club by Al Steiner (MFF, rough, cons)
Lines: 1481
Date: Wed,  4 Feb 2004 07:10:03 -0500
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d



One Night at the Faraway Club

A Heritage County Tale

By Al Steiner



Robin White's evening was definitely starting to look up now. Until the
handsome stranger had bought her that first drink at 10:30, she had been
starting to think she was losing her touch. It was Saturday night, the party
night, on a warm summer's evening and, for the first time in nearly a year
now, no one, not a single male, had asked her to accompany him to the
Faraway Club for a night of drinking, dancing, and, as was well known among
the public servants of Marshall County, fornication after it was all over.
Not one paramedic, EMT, firefighter, cop, or ER tech had wanted to
experience her charms that night, this despite her well-earned reputation as
the woman who willingly gave it up for the price of a night out. What was
wrong with her? Was she losing her looks? Her charms? Had they all
experienced her enough now that they didn't want her anymore? She had
fretted over these questions for most of the previous week, stressing more
about her lack of a date than she ever had about her unpaid bills, or her
deteriorating relationship with her roommate, or any of the other hundred
and five things she should have been worried about.



Still, date or no date, she simply could not stay away from the Faraway Club
that night. The popular dance club in downtown Heritage-a place with an
almost infamous reputation-was her weekend home. She never missed a Saturday
there, not even the time she'd had the flu. She had even gone the week her
father had died, accompanying John Mallet, one of the day watch Sheriff
Deputies, the night before the funeral. And she had fucked him well
afterwards, too. Just because no one happened to ask her out for this
particular Saturday night, she was damned if she was going to sit home and
watch her roommate study.



And so, feeling depressed, dejected, old and used up, the 25-year-old
registration clerk from Valley Medical Center had driven her own vehicle
downtown to Faraway, had walked alone to the front entrance of the club, and
had paid her own cover charge for the first time in forever. She was dressed
to kill, as was the usual case on weekends, sporting a strapless black
mini-skirt that showed off her bulging boobs on the top and her slightly
chunky, though well-muscled dancer's legs on the bottom.



The club was its usual loud, semi-chaotic self as she entered. Modern dance
music boomed from the sound system while men and women, most between the
ages of 21 and 30, most dressed in the latest trendy clothes, bumped and
grinded out on the floor. The bartenders behind the large bar at the front
of the room worked frantically to keep up with the endless stream of
customers. Every cocktail table was filled, many with other regulars like
her, men and women she knew well from running into them twice every week.
Many of the men had experienced her sexual charms at one time or another.
She saw John Mallet out there dancing with Jana Hansen. She even saw Jim
Hartman, the divorced, reclusive paramedic whom she had initiated to this
place not so very long before and who had taken her on return trips three
times since. He was rubbing chests with Darlene Sandringham, one of the
young nurses from the VMC-ER's swing shift. Robin, just two weeks before,
had been the one to suggest they might have a little something in common in
the first place. How ironic that Jim the hermit was now here with a date
while she was going stag.



Since she did have many friends among the Faraway crowd it didn't take her
long to find a table to sit at and some friendly conversation. All of her
friends expressed disbelief at her inability to find a date and seemed to
take a perverse delight in mentioning it to her again and again. A few of
the regulars asked her to dance and she went willingly with them out onto
the floor, displaying her usual tireless grace, but without an official date
it just wasn't the same. The regulars she danced with all knew the peculiar
set of rules she had established long ago. They could be friendly with her
out on the floor, even overly friendly to a degree, but she would only leave
the club with her date, would only sleep with her date when the evening was
over. As such, her prospects for getting laid tonight seemed dim since all
of the men who danced with her kept a respectful distance. Another rule was
that she would allow only her date to buy drinks for her. Since no one else
in here qualified as her date and since all were well conditioned to this
rule, she found herself forced to spend her own money for her Long Island
iced teas, and, as such, she drank very little since the fucking things cost
seven bucks apiece.



In truth she had been just about to leave in despair, to make the long drive
home alone, almost completely sober and with no prospect for sexual relief
except the vibrator in her nightstand drawer. That was when a hand tapped
her on the shoulder and asked her if she would like to dance. It was a man
she had never seen here before.



She didn't think too much of him at first. He was tall and reasonably
good-looking, though obviously a bit squarer than what she was used to. He
was dressed nicely, in a pair of navy blue slacks and a yellow shirt, and he
was a little older than the majority of the crowd, seemingly in his
mid-thirties. His brown hair was cut short and styled in a corporate
professional sort of way. On his left ring finger was an expensive looking
gold band.



She accepted the dance, since she accepted almost any dance on general
principals, and, much to her surprise and delight, he danced rather well,
much better than she would have thought based on first impressions. He moved
his body perfectly in time to the beat, always seeming to put his hands in
exactly the right spot. They stayed on the floor through three different
songs, until both of them had a slight sheen of sweat on their foreheads.
They didn't talk during this time, just enjoyed the motion and the rhythm.
After that third song faded away her opinion of him went up considerably
when he said the words she had been waiting all night to hear: "Can I buy
you a drink?"



Of course she gave the appearance of playing hard to get. "You sure your
wife won't mind?" she asked slyly, pointing to the ring on his finger.



He chuckled a little. "She doesn't seem to be making any objections, does
she?"



Robin had to agree that she wasn't, and so, with the token protestation of
flirting with a married man out of the way, she told him that she would love
a drink.



She accompanied him to the bar, of course, never letting her drink pass
through his hands. That was just a common sense safety precaution in these
days of date-rape drugs. He either didn't notice her diligence in this or
pretended not to. They found two empty chairs to sit at while she sipped at
her fresh Long Island and he sipped from a rum and coke.



"I've never seen you around here before," she told him.



"I'm from Seattle," he said. "I'm only in Heritage for a few days on
business. I fly out tomorrow morning."



"How'd you end up in the Faraway?"



"My hotel is right across the street," he said. "Since all my business has
been done I thought I'd slip over here and check out a little of the
nightlife."



"I see. So you're staying at the Stovington Suites then?"



"That's right."



The Stovington Suites was a four-star hotel, arguably the nicest in the
Heritage metropolitan area. Standing 36 stories tall and overlooking the
riverfront, it was the hotel that visiting dignitaries usually stayed in,
including the President of the United States on those rare occasions he
visited the Northern California area. The cheapest rooms there ran 150
dollars a night for weekday rates. "Nice place," she said, impressed.



He shrugged, disinterested. "It's all right," he told her. "The view is the
best thing about it. My room is up on the 33rd floor."



"Thirty-three, huh?" she said, even more impressed now. Though she was not
quite a member of high society she was savvy enough to know that the cheap
rooms would not be located on the 33rd floor. She was also savvy enough to
know just why he was mentioning his room across the street and his view. He
was a married man, far from home on a business trip, and he had hopes of
luring her up there to check it out in person. She was not exactly opposed
to this idea. As a rule she stayed away from married men-there were just too
many single men around who were willing to fulfill her considerable sexual
appetite-but, like many other rules in life, she had been known to break it
on occasion. If it turned out that he was a nice guy and if he continued to
buy her Long Island iced teas at seven bucks a pop... well, why shouldn't
she accompany him up to his room for a little fun? It wasn't like she was
ever going to see him again. And there was one thing she had learned about
sex from her many encounters-another general rule so to speak. Men who
either were married or once had been tended to be much better in bed than
men who had always been single, probably from the regular practice they got
with a steady partner.



They finished their drinks and hit the dance floor once more, heading out
there by unspoken consent. He wasted little time in letting her know he was
interested in her body. His hands began to touch her a little longer, in
more strategic places. His fingertips would glide down her flanks and onto
the top of her ass, giving gentle strokes from time to time as they moved to
the music. His legs would brush frequently against hers, the material of his
slacks whispering against her bare thighs. His chest would bump gently into
hers, allowing him to feel her large boobs against his body. She encouraged
these touches the best she could, silently sending him the message they were
not unwanted.



It was a message he received very well it seemed. Soon he was even closer to
her, unabashedly rubbing himself against her, his hands now straying down
onto her ass, giving it quick squeezes, even dipping down to the back of her
thighs on occasion and stroking the skin there. She began to get turned on,
feeling the familiar dampness in her panties, and she knew that if he asked
her to go back to his room with him she would say yes. But he didn't ask. He
simply kept dancing with her, kept rubbing his body on hers, and kept buying
her fresh Long Islands every third or fourth dance. All of this was fine
with her, however. She was getting both drunk and horny and her prospects of
having the latter condition taken care of for her at some point during the
night seemed assured.



It was during a slow dance that things really started to heat up between
them. They held each other closely as they swayed slowly, sensuously to the
soft rhythm. He held his face close to hers and she could feel his breath on
her ears. His chest he kept firmly pressed against her breasts. His crotch
he pushed slowly, purposefully into her stomach. There was absolutely no
mistaking the feel of a turgid cock beneath those pants.



"You're a very sexy woman," he whispered softly into her ear.



"Thank you," she said coyly, cooing a little as his hands slid over her ass
and onto the back of her thighs once more. She let her own hands drop down
to his ass, touching it for the first time. It was a nice one, firm beneath
her fingers, as if he regularly worked out. "You're kinda sexy yourself."



"Just kind of?" he asked playfully, giving another little grind against her.



"Okay," she amended. "Very sexy."



"Mmmm," he said. "That's nice to know." His lips slid down just a little and
touched her skin just below her ear, planting a light kiss there. She felt
the tip of his tongue reach out just for a second and then withdraw, leaving
a small wet spot. The touch was electric, sending tingles through her.



"I just love the way you dance," she sighed, giving his ass one more squeeze
and then moving her hands up to his back again, so she could pull him
tighter against her.



"Do you?" he asked. "Do you like the feel of my hard cock pushing into you?"



"Oooh," she cooed, "you're talking dirty to me. And on such short notice
too."



"Don't you like it when a man talks dirty to you?"



"Yes," she said. "I love it."



"You're just a nasty little girl, aren't you?" he asked, his lips touching
her earlobe this time.



She could feel herself getting flushed with excitement now. "Yes," she told
him. "I'm a nasty little girl."



"And you love the feel of my cock pushing into you, don't you?"



"Yes," she said, her lips going to his neck now. She licked at the slight
dampness of his sweat, inhaling the scent of his cologne.



"You want to feel this cock sliding into your wet pussy, don't you?"



"Yes," she breathed. "I want you to fuck me."



"Because you're nothing but a little slut, aren't you?"



She trembled a little, feeling a pleasant sort of shame at his words. What
he was saying was insulting, yet blackly exciting at the same time. Very
rarely did anyone talk to her like this, especially on such short
acquaintance. She groaned at his words, but didn't answer. He was insistent
however.



"Aren't you?" he repeated, grinding into her again. "A little slut who wants
me to fuck her like a bitch until you're begging me for more?"



"Yes," she admitted, feeling a gush of moisture flooding from her pussy as
the word left her mouth.



"Say it," he told her.



"I'm a little slut."



"And what do you want me to do to you?"



"Fuck me," she said. "I want you to fuck me."



"Like a bitch?"



"Yes," she said, almost moaned. She was so very turned on now. "Like a
bitch."



He put his lips gently against hers and kissed her, the tip of his tongue
licking the underside of her mouth, gliding across her teeth, and then
pulling back. She refused to allow him to break the kiss though. Her hands
went to the back of his head and she pulled him back, thrusting her own
tongue out and swirling it against his, sucking lightly on it. God, how she
wanted this man, how she wanted him to treat her like the slut she was. No
one had ever made her feel the way she was feeling now.



And then, just when she thought they were going to leave, the unexpected
occurred. A woman appeared beside them. She was tall and solidly built, not
fat, but somewhat Amazonian in stature. Her hair was a rich brunette, her
breasts large and well rounded. She was wearing a conservative blue dress,
the hem knee-length, the top showing only a small amount of cleavage, her
well-muscled legs bare of nylons. She, like Robin's dancing partner, looked
to be in her mid-thirties. Overall, she gave an impression of a
well-manicured, professional woman. She looked at the two of them for a
moment, a slight smile on her face, and then she said, "May I cut in?"



Robin shot her a look of annoyance. How dare she try to cut in on her dance
now, when she was as worked up as she was likely to get without removing her
clothes. "No," she told her coldly. "I don't think so."



The woman's smile turned into a smirk. The look in her eyes became slightly
dangerous. "I wasn't talking to you," she answered. "I was talking to him."



"Huh?" she said numbly, not quite understanding.



It quickly became clear what she meant, however. Before she really realized
it was happening, the man was gone and the woman had her arms around her,
pulling her close, dancing with her. Another woman! What in the hell? And it
was a woman who towered over her. Robin was barely five feet, four inches
tall. This woman was damn near six feet. Her arms held her tightly around
the waist, so that getting away from her would be a chore.



"Uh... what exactly is going on here?" Robin asked, her voice tough to mask
the sudden nervousness she felt.



"I'm dancing with you," she said simply. "Do you have a problem with that?"



Robin looked at her, trying to read the expression in her face. It was
impossible. "Well," she said slowly, "I don't usually dance with other
women. I don't really... you know... swing that way."



"Oh no?" she asked, pulling her a little tighter. "You don't like the way my
boobs feel against you? The way my hands feel, squeezing you?"



Robin swallowed, feeling herself tremble just a little. "No," she said. "I
really don't." But even as the words left her mouth, she knew she was lying.
Though it was hard to admit to herself, she did kind of like the way this
woman's body felt against her. It was strong, like the man she had just been
dancing with, but it was also soft, a stark contrast to his.



"You don't sound so convincing," the woman said with another smirk. "Have
you been with a woman before?"



"No," she said firmly. "I told you, I don't swing that way."



The woman looked directly into her eyes, as if she was probing into her very
soul. "You're lying to me," she said. "I can tell."



She trembled again, turning her eyes away from that gaze. How did this woman
know? How could she know? It had only happened once, back when she was in
high school, something she rarely even thought about anymore. She had been
working in a hair-cutting salon, running the cash register and sweeping up
the hair from the floor between customers. The manager had been an athletic
woman in her thirties, pretty, well-built, divorced. She had invited her to
stay after work one night for a free hair cut and style. While doing the job
she had produced a bottle of rum and a six-pack of cola, offering some to
her young charge. By the time the cut and style was finished Robin had been
half-drunk, a relatively new experience for her back then. The talk had
turned to intimacies she had shared with her various boyfriends. And before
she knew what was happening, the talk had turned to kissing, to sliding
their tongues in and out of each other's mouths. Her shirt had gone to the
floor, then her bra. She had wanted to stop the woman from going any further
but her mouth on her nipples had just felt too good. That led to her jeans
being slid off and a wet, knowing mouth between her legs, bringing her to a
series of sharp orgasms unlike anything she had experienced to that point in
her life. And then it had been over, never to be repeated or offered again.
She had worked another month there and then moved on to different pastures,
burying the incident as deeply as possible. At least until now. What was
happening here? Who was this woman? And what had happened to the man she'd
been dancing with? Why wasn't he stopping this from happening?



"It's okay," the woman said now, leaning closer, so her lips were against
Robin's ear. "I know what it's like. We don't like to talk about such
things. But when we experience them, it's something special... isn't it?"



"Yes," Robin said, confused, horny, unsure of herself. "I mean... uh no.
Uh... I mean, I have to go now." She tried to twist out of the woman's arms
but they held fast, pinning her even tighter against her body.



"Don't leave," the woman told her, her voice turning hard again. "You didn't
seem to mind rubbing your body against my husband. Why should you mind
rubbing it against me?"



"Your... your... your husband?" she stammered, feeling a bolt of adrenaline
shoot through her. Was that was this was about? Was all of this touchy-feely
a prelude to taking her out in the parking lot to kick her ass?



"My husband," she confirmed, her hands dipping down now to touch Robin's
thighs. "He probably mentioned to you that we were in town on business."



"I didn't know he was married," she blurted. "Really. If I had..."



"Please dear," she said, amused. "Let's not cheapen our relationship with
more lies. Of course you knew he was married. You just didn't know his wife
was here."



"Look, I'm sorry but... Uhhhng." She grunted as the woman's fingers suddenly
went up the back of her skirt and dug into her ass, just below the edge of
her panties.



"You've been a very bad girl, haven't you?" she asked. "A slutty little
bitch, if I read this right."



"I'm going to scream if you don't let me go," Robin said. She was afraid,
but below the fear, just beneath the surface, she was aroused too. She liked
the way this woman's hands were digging into her flesh. She liked to be
treated like a bad girl and called filthy names.



"You're not going to scream," the woman said, her tongue sticking out and
licking wetly down the side of Robin's neck. "You're going to come back to
our room with us, aren't you?"



"No," Robin said, shuddering, feeling another gush of moisture between her
legs. God, what was happening here?



"Yes," she insisted, her hands squeezing and kneading Robin's ass in a
deliciously rough manner. "You're going to come back to our room with us
right now and we're going to treat you like the slutty little bitch you are
and you're going to love it, aren't you?"



"Uhhhh," Robin groaned, feeling the tongue licking at her neck again,
feeling the tits pushing into hers, most of all feeling those soft hands
squeezing her ass so harshly.



"Aren't you?"



"Yes," she said, almost sobbing. "Yes, I am."



"Let's go," the woman said, instantly breaking the embrace. She took Robin
by the hand and led her across the dance floor, toward the front door. Her
husband, still sporting an impressive bulge in his dress pants, fell in
behind them and followed them out.



They walked silently across the quiet downtown street, in through the main
entrance to the Stovington Suites Hotel. The plush lobby was almost
completely deserted. A single night clerk sat behind the main desk, reading
a novel. She looked up as they entered, gave a quick, professional smile,
and then went back to reading. Near the elevators a security guard was
stationed behind a small podium. He looked like he was half asleep. Robin
allowed herself to be led up to this podium, still unable to believe what
she was doing. She had actually accompanied total strangers across the
street and was preparing to go up to a hotel room with them. Total strangers
who were planning to treat her like "a slutty bitch," as the woman had put
it. Was she mad? Did she have a death wish? Was this not the stupidest thing
she had ever done in her life? Yes, it undoubtedly was, but she had also
never been more turned on her life. She wanted to be treated like a slutty
bitch. She wanted to be treated like a bad girl. It was sick and twisted,
she was sure, but she wanted it and was going to have it.



The man showed the security guard the plastic, magnetic card that allowed
him entry to his room. The guard gave it a cursory glance and waved them
past, wishing them a pleasant evening. The elevator doors opened immediately
when the button was pushed. The car was completely empty at this time of
night. They led her inside and the woman pushed the button for floor number
33.



The moment the doors slid shut the woman put her hand on the back of Robin's
neck and pushed. With a startled squeal, she fell to her knees, so she was
looking right at the bulging crotch of the man.



"Take his cock out and suck it," the woman ordered.



The fear was back, fighting with the arousal for top billing among her
emotions. She had pushed her down! And now she wanted her to suck him off in
an elevator? An elevator that might stop at any floor on the way up and let
someone else inside? She opened her mouth to protest, to tell them they were
taking this just a little too far, but before anything could come out of it,
the woman grabbed her roughly by the hair and pulled, jerking her head back.



"Take his cock out and suck it," she repeated. "Don't make me tell you
again."



Her hands trembling, she reached out and put her fingers on his zipper. She
unzipped it, exposing a pair of black briefs beneath. She reached inside and
pulled the elastic to one side, allowing his cock to spring free. She pulled
it out through the fly, exposing it to the air. It was a good-sized cock,
not the largest she'd ever seen, but not the smallest either. It was hard as
a diamond, the tip leaking clear pre-cum.



"Put it in your mouth," the woman snapped, giving another tug to her hair.
This elevator ride isn't going to last forever." With that she pushed her
forward.



The tip of his cock hit her right below the nose, leaving a smear of wetness
behind. Instinctively-for she had had many a cock shoved in her face in her
time-she opened up and slurped him in. He moaned in pleasure as she
swallowed him, driving her mouth down as deep as she could without gagging.
The woman released her hair as she started to bob up and down on him but the
man quickly grabbed it in her place, pulling her head back and forth,
guiding her motions. She felt so nasty and depraved, so slutty. And she was
loving it. There was absolutely no denying it. She loved the way these two
were treating her.



As the elevator continued to rise to the 33rd floor, the woman dropped to
her knees behind her. Her hands came around to the front of Robin's dress
and she grabbed it, yanking the front down, exposing her tits. She put her
hands on them, squeezing them roughly, kneading them, her fingers tweaking
the nipples. Robin felt delicious tingles spreading through her body. She
loved her tits to be played with, the rougher the better, and this woman was
being incredibly rough with them.



The woman's mouth was back on her neck now, licking, sucking, even biting.
"You love this, you little slut, don't you?"



Robin didn't answer, just kept sucking and slurping on the cock in her
mouth, letting it go further and further down her throat with each stroke.



"Don't you?" the woman demanded, giving an extra-hard tweak on her nipples,
a bite on her neck that was deep enough to hurt.



"Mmmm hmmmm," Robin grunted. It was quite obvious that she loved it.



"Yes," the woman said. "You know you do. You're just a little slutty whore,
aren't you? You're going to be our bitch tonight, aren't you?"



Robin let the cock slip from her mouth long enough to moan, "Yes!" She was
shaking with desire now. God, she loved being talked to like this, being
treated like this.



"Say it," the woman said. "I want to hear it from your mouth."



"I'm your bitch," she gasped, the cock slipping in and then back out of her
mouth.



"Yes, you are. And you're going to do everything we tell you, aren't you,
bitch?"



"Yes! Oh yes!"



The woman stood up suddenly and yanked Robin to her feet by the hair. The
man quickly reached down and stuffed his turgid cock, wet with her saliva,
back into his pants and zipped up. Robin reached for the front of her dress
to pull it up over her tits but the woman reached out and slapped her hands
back down.



"Leave it down, bitch," she told her. "I want to look at those boobies while
we walk to the room."



"But... but... what if someone... you know... sees us?" she asked, blushing.



The woman shrugged. "How many people have you showed those slutty tits to in
your life? What difference does one more make?"



Before she could answer, the elevator came to a stop and the doors slid
open. The hallway outside was empty. As they walked to room 3312, they
encountered no one. Robin was surprised to find that she was actually
disappointed. It was depraved, but she had wanted someone to see her, to see
the slutty girl being walked to the room to be treated like a bitch.



The man used his access card to open the door and they led her inside. As
she had suspected, the room was not one of the cheap ones-it was a suite. A
huge, king-size bed sat in the middle of the room, the covers turned back, a
chocolate patty resting on the pillow. A sitting room was opposite the bed,
opulent furniture and a stocked bar taking up space here. Next to the
bathroom was a sunken hot tub with fragrant steam wafting out of it. The
curtains were standing wide open, showing an impressive view of the downtown
high-rises and the waterfront, including the 1930s era drawbridge that was
the symbol of downtown Heritage. The room had the desired effect on her,
making her feel she was in the presence of powerful people, people who were
used to taking what they wanted from life.



As had been the case in the elevator, the moment the door shut behind them,
the woman grabbed Robin, this time roughly by the shoulders. Instead of
pushing her down, however, she spun her around to face her. Her hands slid
up, over her neck, squeezing just enough to show who was in control, and
then onto her face. She pulled Robin's face to hers and kissed her hard, her
tongue jamming brutally into her mouth, her teeth nipping at her lips. Robin
moaned again, returning the kiss, swirling her tongue around, enjoying the
taste and feel of a woman's mouth against hers. The woman's left hand
dropped down from her face, trailing over her tits, and then was suddenly up
under her dress, the fingers pushing against the crotch of her panties,
right over her pussy lips.



She pulled her mouth from Robin's but kept her hand in place, squeezing and
rubbing her pussy through the panties. "You're wet, you little slut," she
said. "You're absolutely soaking."



"Mmmm," Robin groaned, pushing her crotch harder into that hand, feeling the
pleasure radiating through her.



"You love this shit, don't you, slut? You love being treated like a nasty
little whore, don't you?"



"Yes," Robin groaned. "I'm a whore. I'm a nasty whore."



The woman removed her hand and pulled back, prompting a grunt of displeasure
from Robin. It was ignored. She licked her fingers and then slowly backed
up, until her legs were against the foot of the bed. She lay back on it, her
calves dangling over, and then leaned back, so she was resting on her
elbows. She spread her legs wide and reached down, grabbing the hem of her
dress. She pulled it up, first exposing her tanned thighs and then her
crotch. She was not wearing any panties. Her pubic hair was shaved from
around her lips, leaving them bare, only a single black tuft growing above
them. The lips were swollen and very wet, the clit protruding from its hood.



The man was suddenly standing behind her again, his cock bulge pushing into
her ass, his hot breath in her ear. "Get between her legs and eat her," he
ordered.



Her mouth opened to protest. Though the woman's pussy looked very appealing,
she had never put her mouth on one before and wasn't sure if she should
really cross that particular line. But before so much as a syllable could
come forth, the man's hands were on the back of her hair, pulling it
roughly.



"Do it," he said, pushing her forward, continuing to pull her hair. He
shoved her down to her knees once more so she was leaning over the foot of
the bed, her head inches from the woman's crotch. She could smell the sharp
musk of her juices now, a smell not unlike her own, but at the same time,
startlingly different.



"Yes," the woman said, reaching out her own hand and taking over the duty of
grabbing her hair. "Eat me. Make me cum like a good little slut."



The man let go of her hair and the woman pulled harder on it, dragging her
face forward, mashing it directly into her slippery lips and rubbing it
around. Robin's mouth was now full of the smell and taste of her, another
woman's juices saturating her face. She gasped in pleasure and fear, trying
at first to keep her mouth closed. A sharp yank on her hair soon changed her
mind however. She stuck out her pink tongue and started to lick, hesitantly
at first, just brushing the lips.



"Eat me, goddammit!" the woman barked. "Eat me like you mean it! I'm never
going to cum like this!"



She started to lick harder, her strokes more firm, the taste now filling her
mouth, and she found she loved it. She loved the feel of the soft lips
against her tongue. She loved the almost overpowering odor of aroused pussy
in her nose.



"That's the way, you little slut," the woman said, tugging on her hair
again. "Just like that. Up and down. Stick your tongue inside me now."



She plunged her tongue inside experimentally, an action that elicited a
pleasurable groan from the woman. She licked up and down a few more times
and then did it again, and then again.



"Yes, you fucking slut-whore," the woman moaned. "Eat that pussy, you nasty
fucking bitch. You cunt. Suck it all up."



She sucked it all up, become more and more aroused with each filthy, nasty
word that came out of the woman's mouth.



Meanwhile, the man was still behind her, his bulge pushing into her ass. His
hands reached around and found her tits, squeezing and kneading them,
pushing and pulling them, being rough with them. She ground her ass back
against him as she licked and sucked, making little moans in the back of her
throat.



"I love these big fat titties," the man said over the top of her, talking to
his wife.



"Yeah," she said with a shrug. "They're all right. Slut boobies."



"Nothing wrong with slut boobies," he said, giving an extra-hard squeeze of
the boobies in question.



Robin kept up her tongue action, alternating between plunging it inside the
woman and lapping up between her lips. Every once in a while she would swirl
it around the clit, knowing, from the times she had been eaten, how good
that particular sensation felt. She had the overpowering urge to please this
woman to the best of her abilities. She couldn't wait to feel her cumming
against her face.



The man's hands gave one final squeeze of her tits and then fell away. She
felt his crotch back away from her ass as well. Before she had time to
wonder where he was going, his hands grabbed the back of her skirt and
lifted it up over the top of her panties. He rubbed the cheeks of her ass
for a second, sliding a finger under the elastic an inch or so, just enough
to make her wish he'd put it further up. He then grabbed the top of them and
yanked them down, exposing her bare ass to the air. Without fanfare or
comment, he continued pulling them down her legs. She lifted her knees for
him, one by one, so he could get them the rest of the way off. He pulled
them over her shoes, which she was still wearing, and dropped them to the
floor. His hand went back to her ass cheeks. He caressed them gently,
lovingly for a moment and then, suddenly, shockingly, he raised it up and
slapped down on the left cheek, hard, hard enough to sting.



She gave a shocked squeal at the sharp pain, but it was not a squeal of
displeasure by any means.



"Yeah!" said the woman, who was panting now. "Spank the bitch. Show her what
we do to sluts."



"I intend to," he said calmly, his hand coming down on her again, this time
on the right cheek. He then did it again, and again, slapping her every two
or three seconds, sending warm waves of painful pleasure throughout her
body. "You hear that, bitch?" he asked her. "This is what we do to nasty
little sluts like you. How do you like it?"



"Mmmm," she couldn't help but moan, relishing the depravity of what was
going on here, loving the way they treated nasty little sluts like her.



"You'd better make her cum or I'm gonna use my belt too," he said, smacking
her ass again, and again.



Taking his words to heart, she began to go for broke in the woman's crotch.
She gave one final lick of her lips, plunged her tongue inside one last
time, and then began to lick at the swollen clit, lashing it up and down
aggressively. The woman moaned out her approval of this action. Her hands
tightened in Robin's hair, pulling her even harder against her. Her legs
came up and wrapped around her back, adding their force to her restraint.
And still the man kept raining blows down on her bare ass, the sharp slaps
resounding through the suite, echoing off the walls, her ass cheeks
undoubtedly turning as red as an apple.



As suddenly as it began, the spanking ended. She sensed the man fumbling
around behind her and then she heard the jingling of a belt buckle being
released. This was followed a second later by the sound of a zipper being
drawn down. Next, his hand inserted itself between her thighs and pushed
them apart, opening her up for plunder. The head of his cock touched her wet
lips, sliding up and down just a little, causing glorious pleasure to
blossom in her congested pussy.



"You want this hard cock in your cunt, don't you, slut?" he asked her.



"Oh God," she groaned, shuddering again, almost losing concentration on
keeping her tongue and the woman's clit in contact.



"Don't you?" he repeated, taking the cock and slapping it against her pussy
now.



"Yes!" she yelled, even though her firm, formerly unbreakable rule of sex
was to never do it without the man wearing a rubber. She was so turned on
right now she simply didn't give a flying fuck about pregnancy, about
disease, about anything except feeling that cylinder of hot flesh slide into
her wanting pussy. "Fuck me with it! Put it in me! Fuck me hard!"



His hands grabbed her by the ass and, a second later, his cock slid into her
body in one, harsh, brutal thrust, penetrating her to the hilt, the head
slamming into her cervix. "Like that, bitch?" he asked her. "Is that the way
you like it?"



"Yes!" she screamed. "Fuck me hard! Treat me like a bitch!"



He began to drive his cock in and out of her like a piston at high rev, his
balls slapping against her body, his fingers digging into her ass. The sheer
power of his thrusts was frightening and intensely pleasurable. She felt
controlled, possessed, totally at the mercy of these powerful people. And
she was loving every second of it.



"Get your mouth back on my clit, whore!" the woman commanded, yanking her
hair again, this time hard enough to tear some from her head.



"Yeah, you slut," the man told her. "Get your fuckin' face back down!" With
that he put one of his hands on the back of her neck and helped push her
down. With his other hand he began to slap at her ass again, his cock still
moving in and out of her body at a suicidal pace.



She took the woman's clit between her lips once more and, this time, began
to suck on it as if it were a nipple. The effect on the woman was immediate
and intense. She screamed a stream of very unladylike profanity out into the
room and began to buck up and down on the bed. Her legs tightened even more,
so that Robin had a hard time breathing.



"Yesssss, you cunt," the woman cried. "I'm gonna cum all over your slutty
face!"



Robin herself was now beyond words. Between the pussy juices being smeared
on her face, the clit in her sucking mouth, and the hard cock slamming into
her dripping pussy, she was in a state of complete sensory overload. She
could feel her juices running down her legs, probably dripping on the floor.
The overload increased exponentially when the man stopped slapping her ass
and reached around in front of her, his fingers finding her clit. He began
to rub it forcefully, flicking it back and forth, starting the machinery of
her own orgasm into action.



"Put your fingers in my cunt!" the woman yelled at her, her voice broken,
out of breath.



She obeyed, sliding first one, then two, then three fingers into her
saturated chasm, feeling, for the first time in her life, the clench of a
woman's muscles drawing her deeper.



"Oh god yes, bitch!" the woman cried out. "Oh fuck! Oh shit! You fucking
whore-slut-bitch-cunt! I'm cumming on your face!"



"Do it, Baby," the man said behind her, his voice now out of breath as well.
"Cream all over this bitch! Show her what it tastes like!"



The woman's legs tightened even more against her, pushing the air out of her
lungs, making it almost impossible to take in another breath. Her pelvis
jerked off the bed and then flopped back down. Her hands yanked harder and
harder at her hair. She screamed again, her words completely unintelligible,
tightened one last, brutal time, and then let out a great rush of air. Her
legs finally relaxed around Robin's back, allowing her to breathe once
again.



"Nice," the woman sighed, her voice soft now. "Such a good little slut."



"Yep," the man, said, still panting, still pounding in and out of her. "And
now it's my turn. You hear that, bitch? I'm gonna shoot my cum in your nasty
little pussy now."



"Ohhhh," Robin groaned, well beyond words now. She was ready to cum herself,
could feel the waves starting even now, and if she could do it at the same
time the man shot his cum inside of her, it would be ecstasy.



"Do it to her," the woman said, still holding Robin by the hair, but more
gently now. "Cum in the bitch! Fill her up!"



"Yesssss!" Robin managed to grunt out. "Fill me up! I'm sooooo close!"



She heard the man laugh behind her. "So close to what?" he asked
mischievously. "Nobody said that you could cum."



"Oh God, please," Robin panted, figuring he was just teasing.



Apparently however, he wasn't. His fingers came free from her clit, stopping
the stimulation. His hands went to her ass, to give him leverage for his
final push but he changed the angle of his thrusts, pushing his cock upward,
so it was no longer rubbing on the clitoral nerves as he fucked her.



"No!" she screamed in frustration. "Please! I need to cum! I have to cum!"



"You'll cum when we say you cum, bitch," the woman said mildly, grabbing
Robin's arms to keep her from putting her own fingers on her clit.



"Oh God, please?" she almost sobbed, her body crying out for release.



No one answered her. The man's thrusts began to speed up, becoming more
irregular, almost spastic. He began to pant and grunt harder, his fingers
biting into her ass cheeks once again. The pleasure was still there for
Robin, but it wasn't enough to push her over the edge, couldn't be enough.
He gave one more grunt, a long groan, and she felt the first hot spurt of
jism splashing against her cervix, blasting her insides.



"Noooooooo!" she cried, the sob of frustration actually breaking free of her
mouth this time.



More spurts shot from his cock, filling her hungry pussy to the brim,
overflowing it, dripping down her legs, making her feel hot inside, but
doing absolutely nothing to bring her off. Absolutely nothing.



"Ahhhhh," he said when the last spurt had dribbled out. His thrusting slowed
to a stop and he pulled his now-wilting cock free of her pussy, leaving an
aching emptiness behind. She felt a glut of juices running out as it came
free. He was really done. They really weren't going to let her cum.



She felt almost on fire with unreleased sexual tension, as tight as a rubber
band stretched to the breaking point. How could they do this to her? This
was beyond cruel. She had let them use her body like a love toy, had let
them humiliate her, call her filthy names, and now that she had brought both
of them off, had let them gush their respective juices all over her and
inside her, they were leaving her hanging? What kind of people were they?
How could they do this to her? Tears were now rolling down her face, she was
so frustrated.



"Mmmm," the woman said contentedly. "That was beautiful, Hon, wasn't it?"



"Oh yeah," he agreed, stuffing his cock back into his pants once more and
zipping up. "Definitely the best pussy we've scored this year."



"That's saying a lot," she said. "We've done a lot of business trips this
year. You think she's better than that little bitch we picked up in Tulsa?"



"From my end she was," he said after a moment's thought. "Her pussy was a
lot tighter. Must be from all the dancing she does."



"Must be," the wife said contemplatively. "Well, what do you think? Does she
deserve the reward?"



The reward? Robin thought desperately. What was the reward? Were they
talking about paying her for this treatment? Did they think that she really
was a whore?



"Well... I suppose we could give her a little something," the man said.



She sighed. "I suppose," she said, a slight smile on her face.



"Look," Robin said, tears still flowing down her face, "I'm just gonna leave
now. I think I've had enough of you two."



The woman's smile became broader. "Oh, but I don't think you have," she
said. "We certainly haven't had enough of you."



"Fuck this," she said toughly. "I don't know what I was thinking, coming up
here with you, but..."



"You were thinking that you were in for a sexual experience unlike anything
you've had before," the woman interrupted. "And that's what you're going to
get. Now come here, my little bitch, we're not through with you yet."



And with that the man was suddenly behind her again, his arms around her,
grasping her. This time however, he was gentle, not the least bit rough.
"It's time for your reward," he told her softly, his lips lightly kissing
her ear. He picked her up under the arms, easily lifting her off her feet.
He set her down on his wife's thighs, so she was straddling them, facing
forward.



The woman reached out and took Robin's ass in her hands. "Come here,
Sweetie," she said gently. "Come to me. Let me make you feel better."



She began to pull Robin forward, her dripping pussy sliding slowly across
her thighs and up onto her crotch, so their lips were just touching. The
woman ground upward for a second, pushing their mounds together, sending
sensation coursing through Robin's body once again.



"Uhhhh," Robin moaned, seeing where this was heading.



The woman continued to pull her higher up her body. Robin's pussy passed
across her bare tummy and up onto the material of her bunched up skirt. It
slid up further, leaving a trail of juice and semen across the expensive
dress. She pulled her over her covered tits, over her neck, until her pussy
was hovering directly over the woman's face. A drop of semen dripped out and
landed on her lips. Her pink tongue ran leisurely, sensuously out and licked
it up.



Slowly, agonizingly slowly, the woman pulled Robin's dripping, abused pussy
down to her mouth, so she was sitting on her face. She felt her tongue stab
out, probing between her swollen lips, licking up the juices and the cum
inside of her, felt her mouth sucking at her, drawing all of it out.



"Oh my God," Robin breathed, trembling again. This was, without a doubt, the
most erotic thing she had ever experienced.



"Mmmm," the woman moaned from beneath her, her tongue shooting in and out of
her now, gathering every last drop of her husband's seed. When it seemed
that all of it was gone, her focus shifted from cleaning her up to making
her cum. Her tongue left her wet folds and began to stab at her clit, softly
at first and then with more power.



"Yesssss," Robin cried, feeling rapture now, feeling the waves of orgasm
starting to build once again.



"We always take care of our bitches," the man whispered in her ear. He
kissed her ear lobes and then kissed his way down her neck, onto her
shoulder. His mouth moved downward, to the front of her tits. He nipped and
licked the flesh here for a moment and then took her nipple into his mouth
and began to suckle. At exactly the same time, the woman stopped lapping at
her clit and took the entire thing into her mouth. She began to suck on it
in a rhythmic motion, in and out of her mouth.



This combination of two mouths upon her, both sucking at the most sensitive
areas of her body, made very short work of her. Within seconds she felt the
orgasm building, something uncontrollable, rising faster, with more
intensity than anything she had ever experienced before. The pleasure rose
up, up, and up, the peak never seeming to come. She could hardly breathe it
was so powerful. She felt out of control, almost out of her mind with
pleasure. And still it continued to climb, higher and higher. Finally, just
when it seemed she could take no more, the peak came, holding there for an
infinity and then exploding throughout her body, the most powerful orgasm
she had ever experienced. She almost passed out it was so intense, her body
flushing, breaking out in goose bumps, sweat dripping from her forehead. She
screamed out into the room, a primal, involuntary cry of sheer ecstasy.



The woman continued to suck on her clit through this, the man on her nipple.
Only after the last of the spasms had died away, only after the
post-orgasmic bliss set in, did they pull their tongues back in their mouths
and disengage from her. The man kissed her lightly on the cheek, the woman
on the inside of her thigh.



"How was that?" the woman asked her softly.



"That was..." she shook her head a little, having trouble articulating just
how she felt. "That was the most awesome cum I've ever had."



"I told you, we always take care of our bitches," the man said, kissing her
ear again. "You're not dealing with amateurs here."



"I guess not," she said, breathless still.



The woman squirmed out from beneath her, her face still wet from Robin's
juices. She pulled Robin down to the bed and cuddled up against her, their
hot, sweaty skin pressed together. The man, after kicking off his shoes, lay
on the other side of her, cuddling her from that side. They relaxed in
silence for a while, their fingers making gentle, playful contact with each
other.



"So," Robin said at last, breaking the silence, "exactly what sort of
business are you two in, anyway?"



They both chuckled. "I'm not sure you'd believe us if we told you," the man
said.



"Try me," she said.



"We own a small auditing firm," the woman said.



"Auditing firm?" she asked, her eyebrows going up a tad.



"That's right," the man said. "We're both CPAs. Our specialty is performing
auditing services for privately owned nurseries."



"Nurseries?" she said, incredulously.



"You know?" the woman said. "Where they sell flowers and trees and stuff
like that? We audit the operations for the owners. We operate primarily in
Seattle but we have clients all over the country."



"Are you telling me," Robin said slowly, "that I was just spanked and
violated in every way possible, by a couple of accountants?"



The woman smiled, leaning over and giving her a kiss on the cheek. "We're
rather boring people in Seattle," she said. "We do like to let our hair down
a bit when we visit out-of-town clients though."



"We've become pretty good at spotting the sort of woman who is craving what
we have to offer," the man added. "We had you marked from the moment you
walked in the door. I asked around a little about you and, sure enough, you
seemed like just the type. And we were right, weren't we? You loved what we
did to you."



"Yes," she admitted. "I really did. That was the best sex I've ever had. I
was so turned on I even let you do it without a rubber on." She shook her
head in disgust. "I've never done that before. Never."



"We know," the man told her. "The men I talked to about your... uh... shall
we say... reputation, assured me that you maintained a firm no-glove-no-love
policy. That is why we felt safe about me going gloveless with you." He
smiled at his wife. "She really does love to eat cum out of a nice pussy.
It's not often she gets to do it."



"And don't you worry either," the woman told Robin. "He had a vasectomy
after our second child was born and both of us are quite disease-free, I
assure you. No reason for guilt, no reason for anxiety. Come tomorrow
morning, this will all be a pleasant memory for each of us."



"Wow," Robin said softly, unsure how to feel about what she was being told.



"But in the meantime," the woman said, sitting up in the bed, "I believe
it's about time for round two, isn't it?"



"Round two?" Robin asked.



"Well of course," the woman said. "We've only cum once apiece. He's got at
least two more in him and I've got an endless amount left in me. Our plane
doesn't leave until 10 o'clock. There's a lot more getting it on to be
done."



"Well..." Robin said, feeling herself starting to get wet again already, "I
guess it wouldn't hurt to stay a little longer."



"Nope," the man said, sitting up himself. "But this time I think we should
do things a little differently."



"A little differently?" Robin asked.



"Well," he said, "my wife likes to be submissive as well as dominant. She
doesn't often get the chance to do both in one night." He looked directly at
Robin. "Feel like punishing a very bad girl for what she's done?"



Robin trembled, the desire flooding through her body again. "She has been a
very bad girl, hasn't she?" she asked.



"Yes," the woman said. "I've been incredibly bad. I think I need a firm
spanking."



The night went on. The sun would be peaking above the horizon before Robin
made her way back to the elevator and started for home.





The End

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
| alt.sex.stories.moderated ------ send stories to: <ckought69@hotmail.com>|
| FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html> Moderators: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> |
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
|ASSM Archive at <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org>   Hosted by <http://www.asstr-mirror.org> |
|Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d; look for subject {ASSD}|
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+