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Date: Fri, 19 Aug 2005 11:09:41 +0000

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--- DECODED ATTACHMENT (callgirlcheerleaders#10.txt) ---


Ch. 10 Codes: Mf, teen, oral, rom









CHAPTER TEN



When I got home on Monday, I came into the house from the garage to hear

something strange: cheesy mood music coming from the stereo, overlaid with

moaning and grunting.  I entered the den to find Marianne watching a porn

flick she had apparently found in the TV cabinet.  She rolled her head back

on the couch as I came in, grinning at me.  She was down to T-shirt and

panties, and her right hand was inside her drawers.  On the screen, two

blonde sluts were attempting to screw Peter North to death.



"Hi."



"What are you doing, kitten?"



"What does it look like?"



"Have I missed anything?"



"No.  I was just warming myself up for you."



I bent down to kiss her, and she put her arm around my neck, sucking on my

tongue.  Her other hand came out of her panties to grope at mine, trying to

get me to finish the job.



I broke the kiss, laughing.



"Whoa, girl."



"Come on, I'm horny."



"I just got home."



She rolled over and came up on her knees to face me.  She was so gorgeous

sitting there looking up at me--big tits and hard nipples straining at her

top, long blonde hair all tousled around her head, big blue eyes demanding

immediate attention, and the smell of sex wafting up from her damp

panties--that I almost gave in and grabbed her then and there.	But I

suddenly wanted to wait.



"Babe, are you familiar with the concept of delayed gratification?"



She pouted.



"What do you mean?"



"I'm not complaining about all this attention, I'd just like to take you on a

normal date for once."



"On a Monday?"



"Why not?"



She perked up at this idea.



"Where?"



"Wherever you want.  Dinner.  I'm not in the mood to cook anyway."



She hopped off the couch and got to her feet.  She put her arms around my

waist and pressed her firm teenage body against me.



"Sure you don't want dessert first?"



"Afterward."



"Okay.  Should I change clothes?"



"If you feel like it.  Nothing fancy."



She lifted up on her toes and kissed me.



"Give me a few minutes.  I'll be right back."



She ran out the front door and I went upstairs to change into something more

casual.  Marianne returned about fifteen minutes later, having changed into a

strapless yellow sundress.



"Is this okay?"



"Beautiful."



It was still early, so the sun was only just now setting.  We climbed into my

SLK230 convertible and drove down out of the hills toward the beach. 

Marianne just stretched out in her seat, letting her long hair flutter around

her.  She smiled at me, that smile speaking volumes.  I looked at her beside

me, sun going down behind her, and I suddenly thought of something that

hadn't really occurred to me before now.



What else did I really want in a woman?



She was bright, sexy, personable, and clearly crazy about me, whatever

reasons she might have for being attracted to someone old enough to be her

father.  She was young enough that she would stay the way she was for quite a

while.	She had the sort of bone structure and healthy glow that had me

convinced that she would be just as beautiful at forty, even if I might be

too old then (at 64) to enjoy it as much as I did now.



She suddenly put her hand over her mouth in surprise.



"What?"



"We need to go back."



"Did you forget something?"



The surprise turned into a sly grin.



"Yeah.  My panties.  Is that a problem?"



I laughed and rubbed her thigh.



"You're going to kill me one of these days."



She hugged my arm.



"I'm doing my best."



We got a table at a seafood place on the water, and since it was just before

seven on a weeknight, we got a table by the back window.  I ordered a bottle

of wine, and though the waitress gave Marianne a suspicious glance, she said

nothing and served us both.



When the waitress left, Marianne continued to stare after her, a crease of

distress marring her pretty face.



"What's the matter?"



"Did you see how she was looking at me?"



"What do you mean?"



"Like, 'Here's the rich guy and the trophy girlfriend who's young enough to

be his daughter.'"  She frowned.  "I suddenly feel like such a stereotype."



I took her hand.



"Don't let it get it to you.  You are who you are."



She sighed and looked down at the table.



"Steve . . . do you think I'm a slut?"



I started.



"No.  Of course not.  Why?"



"Even after everything we've done?"



"Having a healthy sex drive doesn't make you a slut.  'Slut' would be

screwing a bunch of other guys behind my back."



"I was just thinking about us at school today.	I mean, I really like you and

I've had a lot of fun with you, but here you've done it with my two best

friends, my sister, and another girl right in front of me.  You've got admit

that that's not entirely normal."



"You've enjoyed it, haven't you?"



"Yeah."



"Does it bother you?  Or are you just worried about what other people would

think?"



"I don't know.	Maybe.	I'm not complaining, I mean I really have enjoyed all

this.  I love being with you and making you happy."



"I love being with you, too."



She smiled.



"Thanks.  I guess mostly I'm worried about what you really think of me."



I squeezed her hand.



"I think you are a beautiful person, and not just on the outside.  I have no

problems with what we've been doing.  If you don't either, I don't think

anything else really matters."



She smiled again and leaned across the table to kiss me, in the process

giving me a good look down the front of her dress at her big tits.



"Cool.  Because there's something else I wanted to remind you about."



"What?"



"Remember the dare Giselle and I made?  About the game this weekend?"



"Oh.  Yeah.  About going commando under your cheerleading outfits."



"Right.  We've been working on the other girls.  Ashley and Tiffany are on

board, and so are two of the others.  The last two probably won't do it, and

they're freaking because the other six of us want to.  They're threatening to

stay home on Friday rather than come out alongside us."



"These were Melinda and . . ."



"Anne, right.  They're both kind of conservative.  But frankly, I don't care

if they don't do it.  I've never really liked them much, and they're not that

cute anyway.  You wouldn't be missing anything."



"What exactly are you planning?"



She shrugged.



"We're not really planning anything besides the panty thing.  But Giselle,

Tiffany, and Ashley would like to see you again.  Tiffany especially.  She's

gotten kind of jealous listening to Ashley and Giselle talk about us."



"I wouldn't mind seeing her again."



"So, whatever happens will happen."



The food came after that, and we ate a slow dinner together.  Marianne went

to the ladies' room after we ordered dessert, and she returned just after the

waitress served it.  As she approached the table, I noticed significantly

more jiggle in her dress than there had been before, and I realized she must

have removed her bra.  She caught the look in my eye and smiled as she sat

down.



"What are you looking at, young man?"



"A beautiful girl with a strange aversion to underwear."



She grinned, leaning forward and letting the top of her dress fall open.



"Complaining?"



"Nope."



She had ordered some blueberry and chocolate concoction for dessert, and

after taking a few bites, she dug out a big scoop and deliberately let a blob

of it fall into her cleavage.  She smiled at me innocently.



"Oops."



"Right."



She leaned over the table.



"Could you get it?  I can't reach."



Luckily, the restaurant was not crowded, and the few other couples around us

were not paying any attention to Marianne.  I stuck a finger down the top of

her dress and wiped up the blob of blueberry sauce.  She moved herself as I

did it, making me rub my finger over her breast.  I held up my finger, and

she sucked it into her mouth, massaging the tip with her tongue.



"Mmm."



"I get the feeling that you're ready to go."



"In more ways than one."



I paid the check as quickly as I could, and we returned to the car.  As soon

as we were out of the parking lot, Marianne leaned against the passenger side

door, spreading her legs and pulling up her dress to expose her wet blonde

pussy.	She sucked her middle finger into her mouth to moisten it, and then

began masturbating right in her seat.  With the top down, no less.



She watched my reaction, licking her lips.  I reached for her, putting my

hand on her thigh, put she pushed it away.



"Delayed gratification, remember?"



"It's been delayed long enough."



"You think so?"



"Yeah."



She stopped playing with herself and leaned across the shifter into my lap. 

She unzipped my slacks and pulled my dick out of my boxers.  As soon as she

had it free, she sucked it into her mouth.



I had had highway blowjobs before, but never in a convertible with the top

down.  At the first stop sign, I hit the button to put the top up.  Marianne

stopped her ministrations long enough to scowl up at me.



"You're no fun."



"I'd rather not get arrested for public lewdness."



She returned to blowing me as I drove away from the stop sign, and I held her

blonde head with one hand as she bobbed up and down.  She let me slip a hand

down the top of her dress, and I played with her tits as she slurped and

kissed the head of my dick.



We were about halfway home when Marianne sat up.  She pulled her dress up to

her waist and began climbing into my lap.



"What are you doing?"



"I'm going to fuck you.  What does it look like?"



She positioned herself as best she could and sat down on my dick.  I had to

keep both hands free and my head on her shoulder to keep driving.  Marianne

just pulled me close and rose up and down slowly, nibbling at my ear.



With my attentions thus divided, I could do nothing but let Marianne do what

she wanted.  She was tight and wet around me, and she massaged her twat

against the base of my dick in a steady rhythm.  I wanted to play with her

breasts, but I would have needed three hands to do it.



Realizing she had me trapped until I stopped or we got home, she began

giggling and moaning into my ear.



"I'm fucking you, Steve . . . I have your dick inside me."  I felt her

squeezing me.  "I'm so wet . . . I'm so turned on . . . I'm going to come

before we get back . . . I'm going to come any minute."  She moaned again,

biting my earlobe.  "I want you to come inside me . . . I want you to shoot

your cum in my pussy."



I groaned, trying to thrust up at her, but it was impossible unless I stopped

the car, and I wanted to get her home as quickly as possible.  She humped

herself at me rapidly, still moaning random obscenities into my ear.  As I

turned the corner into our neighborhood, she finally shuddered, let out a

squeak, and shook in orgasm.  She was still gasping and shaking when I pulled

into the garage.



I climbed out of the car, carrying her in my arms, but we made it only as far

as the hallway just inside the door.  Marianne pulled me down, and I was back

inside her in a second.  She clawed at my butt, and I hammered her tight teen

pussy until I felt my balls beginning to contract in incipient climax. 

Marianne came again, thrashing and clawing at me, as I poured every ounce of

myself into her.



We lay gasping on the floor for several minutes.  Marianne started giggling.



"God.  I was so horny.	I can't believe I did that.  I could have gotten us

both killed."



"It was fun."



"What if we had gotten stopped?  We'd have gotten in so much fucking trouble."



"I know."



She giggled again, rolling onto my chest.  I ran my fingers through her long

blonde locks, and she smiled at me, biting her lip ever so slightly.



"Steve?"



"Hmm?"



She didn't say anything for a few seconds, and I watched her eyes filling

with emotion.



"Is it too soon to tell you that I think I'm in love with you?"



I returned her smile.



"No."



She giggled contentedly, snuggling against me.	I held her for quite a while

before we climbed the stairs to the bedroom and went at it again.



* * *


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