Adults only, no prudes. If you don't like sex stories
containing teenagers engaging in weird perversions, or you
can't separate truth from fiction, get lost. The author
does not advocate or condone anything that goes on in this
story.
This story is mine. You can repost it or archive it only if
1) you don't change it, 2) my name and this disclaimer
remain attached, and 3) you aren't making money off it.
That includes posting it on some slimeball banner farm web
site. Yes, that means you!
This thing is unfinished, but I know generally where I'm
going. Feedback and suggestions/requests are most welcome,
however! If there's something you'd like to see Marianne
and her friends do, then by all means let me know. First
cum, first served--the sooner you get your requests in, the
sooner you will see them!
This chapter may contain some potential squicks, but I
promise that it comes out differently than you might expect.
Previous chapters are archived at ASSTR
(https://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Richard_Bissell). Muchas
gracias, Rey!
Ch. 10 Codes: Mf, teen, oral, rom
Call Girl Cheerleaders
(C)opyright 1999 by Richard Bissell
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 230K 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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