Job/Place-of-work

Fiction

Doctor’s Orders

A white-faced clock ticked as the black hands jerked with the moments, the seemingly gray waiting room containing only three fidgeting people: one woman behind the desk with her red spectacles resting on the edge of her nose as she stared at the screen of her computer, a man in the corner wearing a brown suit flecked with spots of black thread, and a woman clad in a yellow tank top and acid-washed denim jeans.
The woman in yellow was slumped in her shoulders as her chin rested in her palm, the arm supported by the rest of the chair’s steel side. Her blonde hair was teased in the back as the rest of the tendrils were straightened to fall about her face; her pink lips pouting in a frown whenever a sigh was not falling from them. As she sat in her chair in silent boredom, her hazel eyes traveled from one focal point to another, first gazing at the fish tank near the room’s entrance, then falling onto the cracks of the green plastic border on the bottom of the walls.
“Ms. Michaellago,” called the secretary, her spectacles pushed up her bridge with a manicured French tip. “The doctor is ready to see you now, miss,” the secretary smiled when Michaellago turned her attention to the desk.
Michaellago forced a smile and stood from her seat, walking to the door next to the desk and twisting the knob before walking down the narrow hallway coated with the same gray as the waiting room. At the end of the small hall, she twisted the shimmering knob and stepped into what seemed to be an office, the sign on the door reading “Mr. Green, Ph. D” as she entered.
Inside the room, pale green plastic molded against the carpet, a desk situated between two chairs: one chair black and fitted with gentle leather while the other seat, the one placed in front of the desk, was a simple like the ones in the waiting room. In the corner of the room stood a man with peppered hair, his press shirt a light green and his pants as dark as fresh-brewed coffee.
She cleared her throat and shut the door behind her, the sounds capturing Mr. Green’s attention and forcing him to turn around. “Hello,” he smiled, the skin around his mouth layering around the corners of his mouth. “You must me Arianna Michaellago, I presume.” He positioned the book in the stuffed shelf before him and made his way to the more comfortable chair. “My secretary spoke to you over the—please sit down, it’d be my pleasure Miss—well you didn’t mention the addiction you had over the phone. I was just wondering if you could tell me what you wanted me to help you overcome.”
Arianna bowed her head with a smirk on her lips and walked to her vacant chair. Green sat down and looked up at Arianna, her hands gently holding the back of her chair. “Well, I’m a whore that doesn’t really enjoy sex. I just thought that you’d help me out with this whole cognitive dissonance thing I’ve got going on.”
Green blinked as his smile became frozen, taken aback at his patient’s predicament. “I’m not a sex counselor, but I don’t believe that you have a common situation,” he told her with his elbows coming to rest on his desk. “I’m sure I could help you with it, though.”
Arianna offered a small smile to the doctor and let her fingers drum against the back of her chair. Seeing that she wasn’t willing to offer any information, he cleared his throat and suggested to her, “Maybe a recount of one of your encounters could help me.” She nodded and set her bag on the seat.
“I guess my sexventure from last night…well, this morning, is the most recent.”
“Tell me about what happened—from when you first met him, to be exact,” Green added as he gave a nervous chuckle to what he could have heard if she didn’t start at that point.
She rolled her eyes at the correction he made and turned her back to him, walking to the bookshelf. “Well,” she began with a bored tone, “I got dressed like usual. Went out on my own—guys don’t like it when girls are surrounded by other women, it makes them feel conscious about what her friends are going to say or think about him—and I made sure to have my legs showing. Anyways, the guy came up to me and starting chatting me up—you know: drinks, laughter, running his hand up my thigh and all that. He took me to the dance floor, grinding on me like usual and then he went and kissed my neck, his hands rolling up my sides like glaciers in reverse, trying to get to my chest. I didn’t really want him to and I didn’t want to let his sweaty-ass palms touching me, but he expected it so I let him.” She turned to look at her counselor and gave a dry laugh, “Apparently, not wanting a guy to touch you isn’t a good enough reason for them not to touch you? They’ll just keep asking ‘Why not?’ with that stupid little smile on their face and keep doing whatever they want—drunk or not.” His patient turned her attention back to the volumes and let the pad of her index roll down the spine.
“So you do these things because you think you’re supposed to?” he queried to her, encouraging her to continue talking.
Michaellago nodded, her hair bouncing with her head. Green’s eyes followed the lively strands, his gaze falling too low and catching the sight of her lower back. Seeing her flesh, a bit of skin that was spotted with sweat only that morning, enticed him to look lower at the curve of her ass stretching the material of her jeans. He could clearly see a shadow beneath the mounds of her ass and he felt the wetness of his tongue sliding across his lips, wanting to see how firm her ass really was. His gaze shot back to her locks when her voice continued.
“It’s not an outside force though; it’s an internal want. I have to do it—I have to feel like I can control it—to prove that I can to myself, to him, to everyone: I just feel like I need to do it.”
Arianna turned and sauntered to his desk, her swaying hips more pronounced, but Green wasn’t sure if her hips were so animated because of his mind’s excitement or of her own will. She perched on the corner of his desk, her right ankle over her left as she stood within a foot of the seated Mr. Green. “Is that so?” he asked nonchalantly of her, his head falling back to look up at her.
She laid her palms on the top of his desk and gently lifted herself off the ground, her pert cheeks flattening against the blonde wood of Green’s desk, the acid wash fabric of her jeans stuffed with her flesh. “Yup,” she said with a small sigh, her gaze peaking from beneath her black lashes. Arianna’s legs began to swing back and forth, her slim calves softly brushing against Mr. Green’s black pants.
“What’s your first name?” she asked curiously, her pink lips wrapping into a smile.
“John.”
In the next second, Arianna rested her legs on John’s thigh, leaning back on the palms of her hands. “What do you think about that John?”
Green looked down at the smooth skin laid in his lap, her slip on wedges hanging on her toes. He wanted to push her jeans up to feel the taut flesh of her legs and he could feel the stirring in his stomach become more violent the further up her leg he imagined himself. “I think I’ll disclose what I think about that at a later date,” he finally said to her, his chin going to rest on his fist. Arianna took a moment to remove her feet from her counselor’s lap, adjusting her body to face him directly as her legs draped apart, giving him a clear view to the apex of her thighs. “I do think it has something to do with you wanting to control someone or something, though,” he added as an afterthought.
“Oh, I see,” cooed the woman as her head fell to the side, her hazel eyes shimmering with hidden thoughts. “And what do you think of that? Do you think it’s interesting when a woman takes control?”
The sound of her voice seemed to take a new tone, her words becoming sultry and smooth, her tongue licking her lips slowly, almost seductively. John was beginning to become uncomfortable with her legs splayed open before him. Arianna didn’t wait for him to answer her: she already knew it.
“What’s your favorite part when she does?” she asked him, leaning forward until her shirt hung so loose that John could see the complete curve of her breasts spilling from her laced bra. “That’s why you became a counselor isn’t it?—You wanted to be in charge of other people, or at least make yourself believe that you were in control of their thoughts and emotions by having them spill their hearts out to you.” Her arms stretched out to grab onto the arm rests of his chair to pull him close enough that her breath was dancing over his neck.
Her hands slid from the arm rests to his knees and inched up his thighs as she whispered, “I know you like the illusion of having control. I know you can’t get enough of it.”
Having her breath tickle his skin as she teased him, and knowing that she wasn’t opposed to fucking around, John was unable to keep to himself. He leaned forward and let his tongue sink into her mouth, his hands going up to her tits. His broad hands squeezed her chest and massaged the mounds as his tongue darted in and out of her mouth.
With their tongues tied together, John stood up and pushed her onto her back, his hands firmly mauling and playing with her breasts as he did so. Arianna could feel his calloused fingers yanking her tank top off her body before pulling down the cups of her bra to expose her breasts. His hands went back to squeezing her tits as his teeth pulled on her lower lip.
“Take your pants off,” he ordered her in a husky voice, pulling away from her mouth for only a moment to communicate it to her. Arianna complied, pushing her pants down her legs to reveal the tiny, yellow thong that hid her shaved pussy. The jeans fell to the carpet and she pulled him closer by wrapping her legs about his waist, her hips lurching forward towards his pelvis.
His body pried his hand from her tit to unzip his pants. Letting his trousers pool at his ankles, his boxers falling with them, John’s hard cock sprang free and rubbed against Arianna’s cloth-covered clit. Arianna let out a moan as she felt his tip massage her blood-engorged clit, her pussy slick with juices. “Give it to me,” she moaned breathlessly as her hardened nipples scraped against his palms and dress shirt.
“You want it you little bitch?” he hissed as his thick cock rubbed against the outside of the cloth, small strings of pre-cum streaking the fabric. The scent of her sex filled the air as her petals became wet with her honey, some of her liquid dripping so far down her slit that her tight asshole was glimmering with her juices.
She nodded helpless as her hips thrust forwards, desperate for him to fill her. “Oh yes. Give it to me, baby,” she mewled as her nails attempted to rip through his shirt and dig into his back. Her body shook as his hands let go of her breasts, one hand going to his cock and the other going to the triangle over her pussy. The hand between her thighs shoved the cloth to the side to expose her shining pussy lips, her heat so pent up that he could feel her warmth on the end of his cock. John’s hips lurched forward once more, animalistically sinking into her depths in one smooth motion as her tits jiggled at the sudden entry.
“Fuck yes,” Arianna purred with a smile of satisfaction gracing her painted face, her slim legs tightening around his waist and making his full length fill her feminine groove. “Take control of me John,” she sighed as her hips gyrated against his form, her inner muscles massaging his sensitive length. John’s eyes rolled to the back of his sockets as his meat was swallowed by her hungry flower, her core attempting to pull him further into her being as his cock began to piston in and out of her tunnel.
As John’s pelvis glided back and forth, fully enveloping himself inside his patient, Arianna began to unbutton his shirt and slide it over his shoulders, his pale skin striking against her tanned hands. The dome of his dick kissed the entrance of her womb with each powerful thrust into her core, his skin clapping against hers as his balls slammed into her ass with each swing of his hips. Each thrust of his hips brought a new excited whimper from her full, pouted lips. John could feel her walls tightening around his fleshy pole with each whimper he forced from her mouth.
“You gonna come you fucking slut? Huh?” he spat at her as he pinned her to the desk by her wrists. His thrusts became faster as her cunt began to tighten its vice-like grip, urging him to erupt with his cum—begging his body to release his cum-filled balls with just the tunnel of her slippery cunt. “Is this what you wanted you cunt? Did you want me to pound this pussy and prove your point?” he asked as he pounded away at her open pussy, his grunts ascending in pitch, battling the whimpers and moans of his patient.
John let go of her left wrist and laid his hand over her open mouth to muffle her passionate moans. “Shut the hell up bitch,” he told her as he throbbed inside of her, her walls throbbing and writhing around his cock.
Arianna’s eyes fluttered shut, the whites of her eyes the only thing he could see before her eyes finally rested at a close, biting her bottom lip in attempt to follow her doctor’s order. He took his hand off her mouth and stared at her teeth sinking into the pink petal of her mouth, blood rushing to his genitals as he felt his load surge to his tip. “Fill me with your cum,” blurted out the whore as her walls squeezed and milked him with earnest, Arianna fully aware that her womb was about to be soaked with his seed.
Ropes of hot cum began to pour from his cock as her walls gripped tighter and tighter on him, spasming as each wave of seed was renewed. Arianna’s body rocked and shook as her orgasm swept over her being, feeling his cum fill her core as the warmth of his cream sent chills up and down her spine.
The ropes soon vanished as his load completely emptied in her cunt and John pulled out of her velvet-like core; his cock began to deflate after retreating from her depths. Doctor and patient panted in the afterglow of their climaxes, sweat sparcely spotting their temples. Arianna gulped and looked up at her doctor with half-lidded eyes. “Tell me, Mr. Green,” she gasped through her fight for air, “who was in control of that?”
Green stared down at his patient, strands of his peppered hair limply sticking to his forehead. Beneath him, Arianna smirked up, her chest rising with each breath as she awaited his answer. “Hard to tell isn’t it?” she queried, her blonde hair splayed seductively beneath her. John could say nothing as his fingers raked from the top of his forehead to the bottom of his crown and sat down with his pants still pooled around his ankles.
Arianna propped herself onto her elbows and looked at him with a triumphant gleam in her eyes. The good doctor sighed as he left his hand cup the back of his neck, his gaze staring at his patient as she slithered from the top of the desk to his pooled pants.
“It’s not like you have a wife,” she blurted out as John Green kept staring in disbelief, unable to comprehend what he had done, or why he had even done it. “You’ve got no tan line on that hand and you have no pictures of any sort of woman anywhere, not to mention the fact that the walls are so fugly and bare. Mainly fugly, but we aren’t talking about your poor choices in decoration—which is another indication that you have no woman in your life other than your mother and her 2 cats,” she added with a biting bluntness.
A short glare from the man towering above her kneeling form changed her bitter tone within seconds. Arianna even gave a small, apologetic sigh to represent her change of heart. Now when she spoke, she looked up at her doctor from beneath her lashes, her lips resembling the slightest of pouts.
“I mean, what we did wasn’t wrong. It was what you wanted, right? So how could something you did be wrong? And even if it is, who’s going to know other than little ol’ me and yourself? Hmmm?” she cooed as she perched her head on his bare knee, staring up at him with wide eyes.
“Well, just because we wanted it doesn’t make it right,” offered Green with pain dripping from every word; he knew that what he was saying was right, but her words enticed him much more than his own. His words were only hollowed, his trust completely sewn into the seams of her lips and the sermon that fell from them.
“Why isn’t it right, though?” she questioned him, her head barely separating from his flesh. It was then that John became painfully aware of her breath tickling the flesh of his crotch once more. “It can’t be wrong, Mr. Green—it’s not hurting anybody, as far as anyone is concerned. How is us having sex going to hurt anyone? I know I don’t have any sort of disease I could give you, and you’re the type who wouldn’t feel right without telling me if you had something—but you would’ve said something after we were finished, just to prove your point that you had control over the situation. So, really, no one but ourselves is affected at this point. Having that logic, and the fact that we’ve both had enjoyable times, how is this wrong?” Arianna purred as she rested her head back on his knee, one of her manicured hands stroking the length of his inner thigh as her breath continued to caress his fleshy pole.
Green stuttered with the distraction of her breath, “I—uh—I don’t know, Ms. Michaellago.”
At the mention of her surname, Arianna frowned, her hand stopping at the curve at the top of his knee cap. “Back to formal names, are we Mr. Green? I don’t believe you were calling me that when I was getting pounded by your cock only 5 minutes ago.”
John shut his mouth at a loss for words and looked at the hem of his unbuttoned shirt. He could see the thin black hairs that seemed to always plague his upper thighs, his skin shining with a blotched film of sweat. From the corner of his vision, he could see the feminine hand working up and down the flesh of his leg, getting closer to the apex of his thighs with each inward swoop of her hand. The feel of her soft palm on his skin made little shocks of electricity shoot up and down his spine as his imagination spun a scene of her hand going straight to his semi-erect cock. Arianna smirked when she saw the twitch of his dick, instinctively knowing he was thinking about her warm hand wrapped around his velvet-wrapped rod of pleasure.
“You love doing that,” Green stated, looking her dead in the eye as her fingers teased the small tufts of hair on his pelvic bone. “You love having to submit to someone’s physical needs to you don’t actually have to get to know them— ‘cause if you do get to know them, you’ll already have half of them figured out by just applying your personal personality algorithms to them: that, and you’ll lose your ability to see them as a person—or in your case, a statistic—and you’ll only see them as something that’ll cause you some sort of emotion.”
Arianna’s fingers curled about his length and gently stroked him as he spoke, her eyes transfixed on his as she continued to pleasure him. “You don’t want the emotion—you just want the pure, unadulterated, but completely adult-rated, lust and you don’t know how to handle that because the small range of emotion that you have can’t comprehend the overload of pleasure that you get from such encounters,” John continued, the speed of his speech and the grip of her flying hand causing him to breathe faster.
“You submit to be the dominant so you can easily write-off people who don’t like challenges,” he began to conclude as she let her red tongue slide from between her pink lips and lick the undercurve of his cockhead. “And when you find someone who likes a challenge, and isn’t afraid to take you on in their own dominating fashion, you can go back to being the submissive one in the relationship without having to explain yourself—you do it so you don’t have to think about anything but what you’re told to….. do…”
The “O” drifted off into a shivering moan as his patient suckled the tip of his dick into her tiny mouth, her tongue wriggling beneath his ridged cock like a trapped snake. John gripped the arm rests of his comfortable chair and let a low breath slide out of his lips. The pink petals of her mouth kissed and brushed about his length as she held back the satisfaction of getting him to submit to her. “And what if you’re wrong?” she innocently asked him, knowing she would pique his interest once more— a feat she wasn’t sure that he could manage at this point.
“Huh?” he stupidly started at her question, the fog of his pleasure clouding his mind.
“What if you’re wrong about it all? About why I do this?” Arianna let her tongue swirl about his head as her fist pushed a drop of precious pre-cum out from his hardening cock.
John gulped a mouthful of air and felt his hips jump forward in search of the young woman’s mouth, his body already accustomed to her sensual touch and wanting more of it. He gulped once more to wet his dry tongue and stated through quivering lips, “Then you truly do care about nothing but the—oh fuck, that’s good!” She had just swallowed his length, her lips clashing against her pumping fist and had begun to hum softly. “Then you don’t give a fuck about the person, or the emotions, or the risks. All you want to do is be able to prove that you can do a challenge,” he finished quickly before her humming could continue.
His patient smirked as she sucked him, his full length standing rigidly in her warm mouth, his balls just barely hanging below her teasing fingers as drool began to slide down his shaft. Her bare tits brushed against his thighs and excited him further, the pre-cum beginning to coat his cockhead thoroughly with his excitement. Arianna pulled him from her mouth and dipped her head to his sack to suck one of his balls between her lips, her tongue gently playing with him as her palm rubbed over his sensitive head. John was squirming and moaning as he was pleasured by her, his patient taking care of him with apt eagerness.
Arianna let him fall from her mouth with a small ‘pop’ and went to the other side of his sack to give his other ball the same treatment, her repeat performance drawing more moans from her doctor’s throat as she followed her act with the tip of her tongue following the seam of his sack to the tip of his cock. Her thumb replaced her palm as she let her saliva-drenched lips run along his shaft, her eyes looking up into his as she made the journey from one end of his pole, to the other.
In the next moment, she withdrew her hand, opened her mouth and introduced her uvula to his dick, his girth pushing into her throat as she continued to suck on him. Once more, Arianna began to hum and moan as her throat wrapped around his velvet-like rod as tears began to pool in her eyes, threatening to spill as her body was tempted to gag on his steel-hard dick. She raised her mouth from his pelvis to relieve her throat before bobbing up and down on his column of fleshy pleasure. The warmth of her mouth and the tightness of her wet throat had him closer and closer to another release as she sucked on him so hard that her cheeks caved in and formed around his shaft. John’s ragged breath piqued and was broken with a long groan of ecstasy as her tongue writhed about him, a torrent of warm cum spilling into her mouth and sliding into her stomach with each of her gulps.
When he finished shooting his load into her mouth, Arianna pulled back and licked the salty taste from her lips, her eyes still locked with his.
“Or,” Green continued short on breath, “you just do it because you like the challenge. And who expects a girl at any age with a good head on her shoulders to be good at pleasing? You just wanted to prove yourself, and now you can’t stop.”

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Fiction

An Edited Life, Part 2

It took a few moments to realize that the bed in which I’d awakened belong to Andre Gregory, my editor, and that just a few short hours before, he’d picked me up at Escape, taken me home and fucked me like no man ever had.
Slowly I stirred, still aching and sticky from the night before. But for my fears of how awkward Monday morning at the office would likely be, I’d have relished the way I felt.
Rolling from the admittedly comfortable bed, I began to wander through the house, wondering where Andre might be.
Strolling into the living room, I found Andre sitting on the sofa over which he’d bent me the previous night, positioned on the middle cushion, the exact spot where he’d taken me hard and deep. I stood before him, blushing, bare-assed, my auburn locks tangled with bed head, and he chuckled as he stared at me.
His look made me nervous to the point of fidgeting, and it struck me how unusual, how utterly foreign it felt to be so lacking in confidence.
“Gabi,” he said calmly, that velvet-smooth voice commanding attention, “please go to the kitchen and make a list of things you’ll need while you’re here this weekend and where I can find them in your apartment. While I’m fetching them, I want you to take a bath or shower.”
“But we can’t …” I tried to object before he shushed me and purred, “Please do as I’ve asked.”
My protest came to an abrupt halt, my head nodding at his words as I turned and walked to the kitchen, finding on the counter a pen and notepad on which I scribbled anything that came to mind that I might need during a weekend at my boss’s home.
After several minutes, Andre joined me in the kitchen and couldn’t help himself from teasing me for the list I was compiling, remarking, “You’re not moving in … yet.” My neck snapped as my head turned over my shoulder, my brow arching as I said, “Yet?”
Andre stood there with his arms folded, smiling as he said, “You’ve no idea what I’m thinking, do you?”
“Apparently not,” I replied.
Another chuckle passed through his lips as he reached for the paper on which I’d been writing and tore it from the pad.
“Your keys are in the purse you left in my car last night, I presume,” he asked, and I nodded in return.
“Take your time in the bath,” he said, “I’m going to be awhile.”
His last comment before leaving struck me as unusual. Andre knew where I lived and it wasn’t that far away.
I wandered into the master bath and found myself salivating at the oversized whirlpool tub, and began drawing myself a nice, hot bath, not unlike the one I’d taken before venturing to Escape, but sans the lavender and chamomile salts.
It took some time for such a large tub to fill, but it was worth the wait. The water felt divine as it flowed around me, and my body fell limp as my mind begin to process the previous evening’s events, still trying to figure out how and why I’d let it happen.
Lingering in a tub was something I’d never had to have been encouraged to do. A lengthy, relaxing bath is among life’s little treasures, so my washing was leisurely, meticulous.
How much time had passed by the time Andre returned had escaped me, because I was lost in the tub’s essence, not even caring that my fingers and toes had badly pruned in the warm water. He entered the room, his thick brown lips arching into a wry smile as he saw me lingering in the tub before opening the bag he’d packed for me and finding my shaving cream and razor, handing them to me as he confidently said, “Please shave it before you get out.”
My eyes widened with his words, and I muttered, “Excuse me?”
“You heard me,” Andre smirked. “That thing had better be bald when you come out of that water, or I’ll shave it for you.”
It was at this point I realized that my editor’s intention of fucking me extended well beyond this weekend, having thought the “yet” he’d uttered earlier in the morning was just meant to tease. The feeling inside me was conflicted, a combination of excitement and guilt, of lust and resentment, even a little fear at his confidence, no, dominance.
Andre turned and exited the room, closing the door behind him. I rolled to my hands and knees, then pushed myself up, kneeling in the tub as I reached for the razor and shave cream, doing as he’d told me.
After shaving myself, I crawled out of the tub and dried off, finding my hair dryer and brush on the lavatory counter, right outside the bathroom, and I put them to use, eager to get into some of the clothes I’d listed for Andre to bring me as I dried my hair.
Once my hair was dried, I walked into the bedroom to find the bed made and none of my clothes. I strolled down the hall to find Andre again in the middle of the sofa, right where he’d stuffed me the night before, with a box sitting on the coffee table in front of him.
“My clothes?” I asked, drawing nothing but a snicker from my editor.
“Seriously,” I said, “I can’t spend the weekend naked.”
Ignoring my words, Andre glanced at me and said, “Lay across my lap.”
His words caught me off guard, but as I’d done since last night, I inexplicably obeyed him, stretching out tummy down over his lap, my hands crossed on the cushion to his left with my cheek resting on them, my feet on the cushion to his right.
As soon as I’d found my spot, Andre’s left hand began to caress my head as his right groped my ass, kneading it.
“Gabriella,” he said, his voice taking a more serious tone than I’d heard from him since we’d met at the club. “You’re about to take the first steps down a path like none you’ve ever experienced.”
“We’ve already …” then my reply was interrupted as his hand crashed against my bare ass, the slap’s sound filling the room, drowning out my whimper.
The surprise spank left me struggling to catch my breath when his hand battered my rump again, my body jerking atop his lap as I squealed.
I braced myself, not knowing what he was going to do next, my body relaxing only when he began to rub the ass he’d just left burning with the hard spanks.
My athletic frame remained draped over Andre as he began to speak, his hand still caressing my sore rump.
“I suspect no man has ever treated you as I have, and that last night was the first time you’d taken a black cock.”
My eyes closed as my head nodded and I listened, his hand still gliding over my buns.
“You’ve become a slave to this place, a drone. For the past six months I’ve watched you grow consumed by your work and have found it … disturbing.”
Any objection would have been futile, he was right, just as he had been when he lectured me the night before at Escape. So I laid there across him, still and listening, thankful that he was caressing me and not spanking me.
Minutes passed without him speaking, and it unnerved me, even as his rub had left me in an almost hypnotic state atop him.
Without saying a word, Andre rolled me over, the small of my back arched over his legs. His arms slipped beneath me, lifting and sliding me upward till my butt was on his thighs, leaving my pelvis slightly jutted toward him.
With his right hand, he guided my left leg outward till my foot fell to the floor, then me lead over and began to examine my pussy, silently studying me.
“Very nice,” he said after a few seconds, “a healthy pink with an ever-so-slight brown tint and delightfully protruding labia minora.”
Andre moved his fingertips to my freshly-shaved mound, gliding over it with small, gentle circles. The sensation tickled, and made me squirm. Beneath me, his cock began to awaken and my thoughts shifted from my pelvis’ tingle to just how full I’d felt with him in me the night before, before the words, “All weekend long,” flashed in my brain again.
My eyes closed, my left foot still on the floor and my right leg now bent at the knee. Andre’s hand slid from my mons to my pussy, all four of his fingers slowly, methodically flowing around and through my labia. I lifted my right hand to my mouth, inserting the forefinger and gently biting it as he teased me, his prick becoming more and more noticeable beneath my ass.
“All weekend long,” he’d said to me in that voice of his, his words from the night before now echoing in my mind repeatedly.
Andre rolled me off his lap and I stood in front of the sofa as he leaned forward and peeled off his t-shirt before he arched upward and slid out of his shorts. His feet moved outward and I knew what he wanted – what he expected – of me.
As I kneeled between his legs, the reason for my crotch’s lingering ache became obvious. My boss’s prick was a good nine inches long, perhaps closer to ten, and it was thick enough that I wondered if I could wrap my hand completely around it.
It is befitting a man who stands six-foot-three and who looks as if Da Vinci himself had carved him from stone.
Andre relaxed against the sofa’s cushion as I leaned toward him, kissing and lapping at the turgid shaft. After several moments, he scooted forward and my lips moved to his swollen crown, stretching as they enveloped it.
He gasped as my tongue’s tip began to slide back and forth in the cleft on the underside of his head, as it struck me that I’d never get all of him into my mouth. My lips began to descend my mouth simultaneously filled with his dick and my own saliva as I inched further and further down him.
Andre released what sounded like a satisfied purr as his cock filled my mouth and its crown began to gape my throat. Sending my hesitation, he placed his palm on the back of my head, pressing downward till I gagged hard around his rod, holding me in place until my eyes began to water.
His fingers then gripped my hair and he led my head to a steady bob, my jaws stretched wide and my tongue flexing against his prick’s underside as my mouth fucked him.
“You are such a good … little … bitch,” he moaned as I worked up and down his dick.
His words sent a chill down my spine. For half a dozen months, Andre had treated me as a professional, an equal, as we’d toiled long hours together day after day, creating the media that kept people plugged into The Meadows and now, “good … little … bitch.”
I had no time to process his words before Andre’s hands found my armpits and he lifted he upward, just enough to slide me to my back on the sofa. Once he had me prone, his arms scooped my legs at the knees, and without hesitation he slid into me again.
“Slowly,” I gasped. “Still sore.”
While his entered me more gently than he had the night before, my words didn’t stop him from sinking deeper and deeper as he held my legs high.
Once he had filled me completely, Andre leaned forward, brushing his nose against mine. As his hips began to rock, he kissed me passionately, forcefully, his tongue filling my mouth as his cock slid in and out of my aching snatch.
Settling into a steady motion, he broke the kiss, guiding my legs around his waist. Andre grabbed my wrists and pinned them to the sofa as he made slow, meticulous strokes, sending every inch of him into me before withdrawing, repeating, repeating, my frame wiggling in sync with his use.
Everything about the last twelve hours – Andre’s words, his actions, the way he filled me unlike anyone else – left me feeling more like I was being possessed than enjoying a long-overdue tryst.
What was happening to me?
How did I end up on my boss’s sofa with his dick inside me, my wrists pinned and my pussy still tender from his use last night?
What would my parents think of their thirty-year-old daughter declining to object at a black man calling her his “bitch”?
Did Andre even bother to grab my pills from the apartment?
What was in the mysterious box on the coffee table?
My wandering mind snapped to attention when Andre’s gentle flow turned to hard, deep thrusts, his full, heavy balls bouncing against my ass, his hands’ grips on my wrists tightening.
“I’ve wanted to nail you since the first time I saw you,” he growled.
His words might have shocked me had I not been consumed with his use of my body, my own whimpers and his pelvis’s repeated slaps of my crotch burying what he said.
I found myself caring less and less about the moral implications of fucking my boss. It was something to deal with Monday, after he’d finished whatever the hell he’d planned on doing with me for the next two days.
Andre let go of my wrists, his hands slipping beneath my back and he lifted me off the sofa till he was standing. I held on tight with my arms and legs as he drove upward, all of my weight seemingly held in the air by his cock.
His hands found my ass, groping it as he stood in his living room, stuffing me till I lost control, emitting something between a moan and a scream when my slit squirted all over him and onto his living room’s hardwood floor.
“That’s what I want from my girl,” Andre cooed, showing no signs of stopping his relentless cramming and groping.
I laid my head on his shoulder, still holding on tight, resigning myself to his use, panting as my body trembled against his as a sharper ache grew within me.
“Your girl?” I muttered as he feverishly dicked me.
“My girl,” he replied, just before he buried himself deep within me and sent another torrent of seed into my womb.
My body tensed against him as he unloaded, and almost immediately his spunk began to drip from my folds as the spurts continued.
Andre sat on the sofa, and then laid back, pulling me atop him. My frame went limp as we silently nuzzled.
After several moments with no words between us, I sighed, “Since the first time you saw me?”
“Yes,” he replied in that silky-smooth voice. “I’d like to say I’d planned this, but it’d be more honest to simply admit that when I saw you at the club last night, I simply decided not to waste an opportunity that might not present itself again.”
“And now that you’ve had me?” I asked, genuinely curious as to his answer.
“I’ll continue to do so,” he said confidently and without hesitation.
His words were both reassuring and unnerving. Andre’s bold, aggressive behavior was unlike anything I’d been subjected to, and as the hours passed I found myself almost craving it. But how could I continue to work with him – and supervise others with him – while being made his “bitch”?
My tummy growled. It was approaching noon and I’d not eaten.
“I should fix us lunch,” Andre said.
“Some food would be nice,” I replied.
We sat up together and he motioned for me to follow him. We walked toward the back of the house, through the kitchen to French doors which led outside to a deck, a pool and a yard that were enclosed by a privacy fence.
“Take one of the loungers,” he said. “I’ll be back in a few moments.”
Tentatively, I walked out of the house, and the sun’s warmth embraced my bare flesh till reaching a lounger beneath a pergola alone one side of the pool, and made myself as comfortable as I could be under the circumstances.
Within a couple of minutes, one of the French doors opened long enough for Andre to ask me what I wanted to drink with lunch. Remembering his affinity for orange juice, I replied, “OJ!” and then he ducked back inside.
A thin black fabric was attached to the pergola’s top, offering some protection from the sun’s rays. As I relaxed on the lounger, I couldn’t help but think how much I’d enjoy lunch, a nap, and then a dip in the pool’s cool water.
Andre soon returned with a lunch consisting of chicken salad sandwiches, a side of pasta salad and orange juice. We dined at a table a few feet from the lounger where I’d been sitting, him in swim trunks and a t-shirt and me still naked.
“I suppose I should put on some clothes after we eat,” I said.
Andre smiled as he looked at me, chewing a bite of his sandwich and saying nothing.
Realizing he was in no particular hurry to respond, I said, “Well, I can’t stay naked all weekend.”
The comment evoked a slight chuckle from Andre as he continued to chew. After swallowing he said, “Of course not. We’re going out later. But the thought of your staying nude while here does have its appeal.”
We continued to eat and make small talk. While simple, the lunch was good, particularly since I’d not eaten since before bathing the night before.
Once we’d finished eating, Andre informed me that he needed to go inside and make a few work-related calls, and suggested that I remain on the deck and relax while he caught up on work, so I returned to the lounger I’d been on before as Andre collected our plates and glasses and disappeared back into the house.
The muted sunlight felt good again my skin with my body stretched out on the lounger’s pad. My eyes soon closed and I drifted off to sleep, my head filled with thoughts of all that had happened since Andre approached me at the club last night.
It was nearing 2:30 p.m. when I awoke to Andre’s fingertips tickling the soles of my feet, causing me to giggle and writhe as I snapped from the slumber.
Once he had my attention, Andre crawled onto the lounger with me, wrapped his arms around me and kissed me passionately, holding me firmly as his tongue swirled in my mouth. He broke the kiss only after letting it linger for awhile, and then we looked at each other, again leaving me wondering what he was thinking.
“How are you feeling?” he said.
“Very, very relaxed, refreshed,” I sighed.
Andre’s right hand moved to my left breast, lightly kneading it at first, before massaging it more aggressively as he continued.
A lengthy exhale flowed through my nostrils as he groped me, and I found myself wondering less as to whether Andre was always so insatiable than how delightful – and challenging – it might be if he actually were.
His hand moved back and forth between my orbs, and the fire within me began to ignite again to the point that my pussy’s light tang reached my nostrils again. Andre must have caught my scent, too, because he let go of my breast and turned his attention to my bare mons, and began rubbing it with his palm.
My head lifted enough to watch Andre’s palm flow in slow circles against my skin, his fingers and thumb held up so as to not touch me. His hand is large enough that when he curled his middle and ring fingers, they sank through my folds inside me, and I moaned as my legs bent at the knees and spread for him.
“Are you always this … charged?” I purred.
“No,” he said, then added in something between a teasing and taunting tone, “Sometimes I’m much, much worse.”
His thick digits pulsed inside me, and I could think of nothing but the passion, the affection, the dominance he’d displayed since last night. I was surprised at how comfortable I was with it all, even without knowing what he was thinking or what would happen next.
Andre pulled his fingers from my pussy and placed them at my mouth. They glistened with my nectar and radiated my bouquet as my lips parted and I suckled them, tasting both my own honey mixed with a faint saltiness of the seed he’d deposited in me before lunch.
Once his fingers were clean, Andre slid them from between my lips and rolled off the lounger, grabbing my legs and dragging me downward till my butt was against the edge of the chair’s foot end. He kneeled before me, lifted my legs over his shoulders and buried his tongue between my folds, and I sighed softly as he lapped at me, confident I was to be taken again
.
Repeatedly, Andre’s tongue began at my rose, dragged through my tender lips and stopped after flowing over my clit. With each lick, I held my breath and my body tensed as I savored the sensation, his slow, methodical attentiveness to my body.
Since moving to The Meadows, my life had been filled with the controlled, the rational and the professional. What Andre was doing to me was basic and primal, and I was finding myself getting more and more sucked in by the departure from my routine.
My mind was a void by the time Andre lifted up and plunged into me again, my pussy offering no resistance to his entry, thanks to his earlier use of me. My legs crossed behind his back and he kneeled at the foot of the lounger, the rest of his body upright as he rocked back and forth, and my hands extended outward, firmly grabbing the chair armrests as he again made me his.
It wasn’t long before Andre’s thrusts grew with intensity and depth. My breasts jiggled more and more wildly as the fuck became more primal. My body was growing more used to having Andre between my legs, filling me completely and with each drive into my womb, I cared less as to what Monday would hold.
My mind’s drift was shattered when Andre’s hand crashed against my tit, causing me to yelp.
“Pay attention to me when I’m fucking you,” he said in a mocking tone.
My arms wrapped around my orbs as his words sank in, leaving me feeling like a scolded child.
“Hands back to the armrests,” he smirked as the intense thrusts continued.
I did as I was told, gripping the chairs arms again, his other hand immediately slapping my other breast, causing me to tense head to toe as I squealed, “That hurts!”
Andre grabbed my hips, the backs of my legs running up his torso, my feet dangling over his shoulders as he drilled me almost violently, my body heaving forward as he used me. His cock began to twitch inside me as it had the other two times he’d fucked me and another rush of his seed filled me.
My body was a mess. The chair’s cushion was covered in my sweat and my crotch was soaked with my and Andre’s fluids as he grabbed my legs and led them downward till my feet were flat against the deck.
Andre stood and then took a step backward, looking at me as if admiring his work. He offered me his hand and I took it, and he helped me up and began walking toward the house, eager to see what would happen next.
We moved through the kitchen and into the living room, my hand in Andre’s as we walked. We stood on the rug on the opposite side of the table from the sofa on which he’d already fucked me twice. I complied when he asked me to kneel and he turned his back and lifted the top from the box that had been sitting on the table since this morning.
My eyes widened and my heart pounded in my chest as I saw his hand emerge from the box with a collar. I remained still as he turned toward me and opened the hinged ring, placing it around my neck and snapping it closed before slipping a small padlock through the back rings and sealing it shut.
I now knew what Andre Gregory wanted with me.

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Fiction

Jail Break

Jessica walked up to the front of the faceless grey hulk of the prison and pressed the intercom at the staff entrance. The day was already bright, sunny and hot despite the early hour but this did little to alleviate the drab monolith in front of her, its walls topped with razor wire and the tireless all seeing cameras.
The intercom crackled to life, ‘Who is it please?’ said a bored sounding voice.
‘Jessica’ she replied, standing in front of the camera mounted in the door and brandishing her security pass.
There was a sound of bolts being drawn back electronically and the door swung open allowing Jessica to enter the prison. Two guards were there to meet her and escort her to the Warden’s office where she worked, and they both looked her up and down.
‘You sure Warden Makepeace won’t bawl you out for wearing that?’ said one.
‘Oh for fuck’s sake it’s going to be like 95 degrees today and I’m not wearing trousers’.
Jessica was irritable. She was already late due to the traffic and this was making her later. Anyway who the hell did these meatheads think they were? she thought to herself.
‘If the Warden has a problem with my attire I’ll take it up with him’.
Jessica looked in the mirror and smoothed her clothing down. She was wearing a pretty, lightweight dress with a small flower print that was sleeveless and hugged her slim figure perfectly. It was short, but not obscenely so and came to around 4 inches above the knee, showing off her long legs to perfection, while her white, high heeled sandals finished off the ensemble, pushing her calves into a sexy shape. She had not dressed specifically to tease, but this oppressively hot weather required light clothes and she was damned if she was going to sit in the office with its dodgy air con feeling like she was about to melt.
Another buzzer sounded at the inner door and it swung open, leading through to the main complex of the prison. Jessica followed the two guards, her thick, long auburn hair flowing over her shoulders and halfway down her back and entered the main hall. The serried ranks of cells stretched around and above her but there was no sound from the inmates. When Jessica had started this job, she had been greeted by whistles, catcalls and crude remarks but Warden Makepeace had punished those responsible severely so now no one dared to make a comment, but they still watched.
As Jessica walked across the complex, her footsteps echoed in the empty space. She flicked her eyes from side to side and could see the men watching intently like a pride of lions stalking their prey. She had guessed that today’s outfit would attract more attention than usual and she wasn’t wrong. The men viewed her with naked lust, undressing her with their eyes and Jessica found to her surprise that she was extremely turned on by being an object of desire for all these dangerous, horny, sex starved men. By the time she got to the other side of the complex and had passed through the security door she could feel dampness in her knickers and was acutely aware of her hard nipples showing through the thin material of her dress.
Warden Makepeace looked up as Jessica entered the office.
‘Sorry I’m late Warden, the traffic was hell his morning’ she said as she sat down behind her desk and flicked her computer on.
Makepeace looked at her intently, resting his chin on steepled fingers.
‘Jessica, I don’t make dress code rules for fun’. ‘We have a difficult situation here at the moment, the prison is overcrowded and anything can spark off a disturbance’. ‘You must realise that a highly attractive lady like yourself dressed like that could cause…..problems, fights’.
‘Warden, it is going to be 95 degrees and you expect me to sit in this sweatshop in a suit?’. Jessica’s voice was level but held more than a hint of barely suppressed temper.
Makepeace picked up on this. ‘The engineer has promised to fix the aircon this week’ he said in a more conciliatory tone but I would appreciate it if you could come to work more appropriately dressed’.
Jessica sighed to herself. To be honest that was pretty mild by Makepeace’s standards as he had been known to go crazy over minor infringements of the rules, so she settled down to look at her inbox and type up a growing pile of reports, assessments, care plans….everything the modern penal system seemed to throw up these days.
Makepeace looked at Jessica as he organised the paperwork on his desk. He admired her efficiency and the cool, unflustered way in which she handled the pressures of the job. He had four Personal Assistants before she came, none of whom stuck it for longer than a few months so he gave Jessica a bit more latitude than he normally would. He watched her legs under the desk as she stretched them, her skirt riding a little higher and affording him a view of her pale, shapely thigh. His cock stirred in his trousers and he hurriedly looked away in case she caught him looking at her and looked at the latest Government forms he was supposed to fill in or ‘death by red tape’ as he called them.
Jessica concentrated on reducing the pile in her in tray with some success although the wheezy air conditioning was simply not coping with the summer heat and the temperature in the office was rising uncomfortably causing her to feel clammy. She got up to go to the bathroom to get some cool water to dab herself with just as a siren abruptly started wailing in the yard.
Makepeace stabbed a few numbers into his phone.
‘Security, what’s going on?’ he said calmly
‘There’s a disturbance in C wing sir, a fight has broken out and spread over the whole floor’. ‘We have sealed off the wing and it seems to be OK for now’.
‘Very good’ said Makepeace curtly. ‘Call me immediately if you have an update’.
‘Anything we need to worry about?’ asked Jessica.
‘Apparently not’ he replied looking thoughtful. ‘I’m going across to the security centre to look at the remote camera pictures and if I think there is any danger I’ll send guards to get you out as quickly as possible’.
‘Thanks’ she said as Makepeace strode off purposefully down the corridor.
Jessica continued to try and concentrate but it was simply impossible with the infernal racket of the siren so she poked her head out of the office to see if she could see anything of what was happening and walked to the connecting door to the main block. There was little she could see through the small glass portal but the noise from the inmates was deafening. However, the guards were situated in the centre of the hall and the cells were still locked so everything appeared to be under control. Having satisfied herself there was no immediate cause for alarm she returned to her office and once again picked up the report she had been working on.
In C wing the situation was worsening for the prison staff. Although the area had initially been sealed, some prisoners who were skilled in electronics had managed to access the control relays and open the doors by springing the failsafe mechanism.
There were running battles between C wing and B wing and Warden Makepeace was running out of options.
‘Take ten men and go to the armoury’ he ordered. ‘Live rounds but fire above their heads on the first volley and await my instructions’.
The young guard nodded his assent and made off quickly with his companions. The armoury was situated between two heavily reinforced doors at the junction of the main complex and the corridors which led to the three primary wings of the prison and as they arrived, the guard signalled for the armoured door to be opened. As the bolts slid back an alarm went off in the main block and all of the cell doors sprang open, courtesy of the C wing hackers who had compromised the core security system.
The guards looked on horrified as the prisoners swarmed out of their cells, retreating towards the exit doors to try and seal off the main hall but they were too late and were cut off. The guards outside the armoury were trapped and the armoury door swung open just as they were overwhelmed by the baying mob. The prisoners quickly dealt with the remaining guards and burst through the open door and into the armoury.
The fight in the main block was short but brutal. The guards were heavily outnumbered and surrendered quickly as the situation was hopeless. Those that were guilty of mistreating their charges were dealt violent summary justice and were beaten senseless or killed. The rest were herded together and locked in the armoury.
The ringleaders passed out the guns among the men, and they now ran down the main corridor towards C wing whooping with delight while others tried to batter down the doors to get out of the prison.
Warden Makepeace looked ashen faced at the monitors as he watched the armed prisoners stream towards C wing realising that the guards down there were now caught in a pincer. He ordered the head of security to call the Police as he realised the situation has spiralled dangerously out of control and then rang down to his office.
‘Jessica, listen to me, you have to get out and get out now’. ‘Use the service corridor and skirt around the main complex, do not try to go through there’. ‘Head for the trade entrance on the north side of the block, the code for the door is 98326’.
‘How about you?’ said Jessica in a shaky voice.
‘Don’t worry about me, you have to get out’ he said and she could hear a note of panic in his normal calm demeanour.
Jessica quickly turned off her computer, gathered her things and headed out towards the service corridor, her heart thumping in her chest. She quickly reached the narrow entrance and followed the exit signs towards the north side of the prison, her ears straining to hear any sounds that might mean trouble ahead. As she arrived level with the main block she heard a splintering up ahead as a door gave way and shouted voices and footsteps echoing in the corridor. Jessica froze with fear and then quietly began to retrace her steps. Fortunately the footsteps seemed to recede and she guessed that the men were headed for the same exit she was trying to get to, but the bad news was that she was effectively trapped.
There was nowhere to go except back the way she had come and as she neared the Warden’s office she could hear the sounds of it being ransacked and destroyed. She crept past the entrance silently with her heart in her mouth until she reached the door into the main block which was now open, another prize for the C wing hackers.
Jessica cautiously looked through and found that the main block was eerily silent, all the inmates seemingly having headed for one of the exits. There was no way she could stay where she was so she crept into the main block and skirted round the edge, hoping to find somewhere she could hide amongst the debris of the wrecked cells. She reached the stairwell and climbed up the iron steps as quietly as she could, hardly daring to look behind her, fearing the shouts that would mark her discovery. As she reached the top her breathing slowed again and she listened for any noise that might signal that someone was still up here. After a short while she moved on again, doubled over behind the railings to hide her self from being seen from below, heading towards a store at the end of the corridor. If that had been looted then she might be able to shut herself in and hide until help arrived as nobody would bother going back there she thought.
Jessica was now passing the high security cells, all the doors open and as empty as the rest when suddenly an arm shot out and hauled her inside the nearest cell. A hand was clamped over her mouth to prevent her screams which she instinctively bit down on, hearing a howl of pain as she wriggled free.
‘Quite a little firebrand ain’t she’ said a hulking figure in front of her. More men came into the cell from the adjoining areas until there were around ten of them in the small space. Jessica could see from the distinctive uniforms that these were all lifers, men without hope for parole. She recognised the hulk as Matt Lewin from his report card and quickly recalled the details. First degree murder of his girlfriend and another man who he thought she was having an affair with. He had also murdered the man’s brother and his entre family by burning down their house after locking them inside. The man she had bitten was Bubba Marconi, Mafia hitman. She recognised Barry Martin, the poisoner and David Karlsen, the baby faced con man who had swindled several high ranking officials out of millions. What had really sealed his fate was that he had also fucked all their wives.
Christ this was like a Who’s who of America’s most wanted she thought as the grinning men edged towards her.
‘Want me to cut her, make her scream’ said a weasel faced man who she couldn’t quite place. Lewin glared at the weasel who shrank back but still the men came on, their leering looks leaving her in no doubt what they had planned.
Despite her desperate situation, Jessica found herself turned on. These guys were fit, their bodies sculpted from endless hours of exercise in the gym, their sole respite from the numbing boredom of prison life and the obvious bulges in their pants made her wet with anticipation. She needed to find an angle, needed to take the initiative so instead of cowering in the corner she took a step forward, looking Lewin straight in the eye and sank to her knees in front of him. Her hands worked quickly and skilfully at the buttons and soon she had his cock out in the open. Lewin was a big man, tall with big hands and feet and Jessica was delighted to find that his cock was in proportion, at least 8 inches long and as thick as her wrist.
‘Oooh when did this big boy last see some action’ she purred and kissed the tip of his straining cock head, feeling it stiffen as her hand glided over his thick shaft.
Jessica continued to work her hand up and down until she could see a clear drop of precum appear and then stuck out her tongue to lick it off, continuing down until his swollen helmet was engulfed by her moist parted lips. She could see other men releasing their hard pricks out of the corner of her eye as she worked her tongue in quick, lashing movements over Lewin’s cock and wickedly decided to give them a real show. She had seen some models giving really deep throat in one of her husband’s porno films and now she aped them, sucking the huge dick deep into her mouth and working it frantically with her hand.
‘Oh you are so big, your cock is so beautiful’ she moaned as her lips sucked at his member and her tongue wiggled into the sensitive hole at the tip.
‘I’ll give you something to moan about’ said the weasel in a thick voice as he pushed to the front.
Lewin’s hand shot out, catching the weasel by the throat and lifting him easily into the air. The man struggled, choking and spluttering, his face turning red, then purple as Lewin choked the life out of him. At the last moment he dropped the wheezing weasel to the ground.
‘Get rid of that sick fuck, I don’t want to see him in my face again’ he snarled. Remember, no one and I mean no one hurts this bitch unless I say so’.
Through all this, Lewin’s cock seemed to have become even stiffer, an iron bar made flesh and Jessica did not miss a beat, sucking on his big fuck stick and cradling his massive, heavy balls in her hand.
Billy Joe Ray and Mark Walcott picked up the weakly struggling weasel and dragged him quickly down the corridor not wanting to miss the unexpected entertainment back in the cell.
‘What the fuck we goin’ to do with him Mark’ said Billy Joe
.
‘B Wing’ said Mark. ‘They hate his sort there’
.
The men quickly reached B Wing and dragged the weasel inside.
‘Listen up everyone’ yelled Mark ‘who remembers Ben Laforge?’.
The weasel struggled to get free and the men currently trashing B Wing stopped and stared, the light of recognition passing across their faces.
‘Well say hello to your new friends Ben’ laughed Billy Joe propelling him towards the mob as he and Mark turned back the way they had come, leaving the now screaming child rapist to his deserved fate.
Back in the cell Jessica had more cocks to work on as other men joined the fun and she was sucking on their straining pricks for all she was worth as the men stood patiently in a row. This was the most wildly erotic situation she had ever been in, she was powerless and yet somehow all powerful but the real thrill came from the knowledge that she was ultimately at the mercy of these men. As the last two rejoined the group she helped herself to their tools too, counting ten thick pricks in all, glistening with her saliva.
Jessica stood, her body tingling all over with nervous, sexually charged energy and unzipped her dress at the back, sidling sexily back up to the huddled men, letting them tug her dress down so it fell to the floor before spinning away with a dirty grin on her face.
Matt Lewin’s eyes looked like they would pop out of his head as he drank in her perfect, slim body encased in some delicate, lacy underwear recently purchased from Victoria’s Secret. Jessica stood with her legs slightly apart and pushed her hair up on top of her head, raising both arms in a sexy pose and pouted at the men, thrilled by the rapt expressions of attention on their faces.
She now turned her back to them and unclasped her bra, slowly turning back towards them. With crossed arms in front of her, she walked up to Matt, allowing him to pull the bra from her shoulders and feel her firm tits topped with large, prominent rose coloured nipples. Jessica passed down the line allowing each man to feel her, shuddering at their touch as they squeezed her breasts and pulled on the sensitive buds, amazed at the degree of control she had before backing away again and hooking her thumbs into her lacy panties. The gusset was soaked as she slowly slid them down her slender thighs revealing her neatly trimmed auburn pussy to their gaze, running her middle finger down her wet slit and then tasting her own juices with closed eyes, a beatific expression on her face.
She crossed back to the men again, now totally naked apart from her high heeled sandals and the men clustered round her. Lewin’s lips clasped themselves to hers as various hands roamed over her body, seeking out her most secret places. Her erect nipples were receiving a good deal of attention from two wet, sucking mouths and a hand was gently prising her thighs apart while another sought out her clit. Jessica groaned as a thick finger entered her hot pussy and began to pump inside her.
This was too much for Lewin who moved everyone out of the way and laid Jessica on the small bed on one side of the cell, kneeling between her legs so he could taste his first pussy in years. He pushed her thighs up and started at her asshole, gently running his tongue around the puckered hole, making Jessica squirm with pleasure as he traced his tongue over her inner thighs, teasing her, before running his tongue up her wet slit.
Lewin reached the top of her sex and moved deeper, running his wet tongue over her clit causing Jessica to gasp with pleasure. The other men were encouraging Lewin and their crude remarks made her feel even hornier as she felt Bubba’s cock slide across her lips. Jessica opened her mouth and curled her tongue around the tip of his hardening cock, running her fingers lightly down the pulsing vein, drawing him in and sucking deeply as Bubba fucked her mouth. More hands began to paw at her tits and run over her belly and arms, adding to the sensations in her tingling sex, making her lose control by the minute, as she abandoned herself to her forbidden desires.
Matt Lewin was now tonguing her vigorously and deeply, using his thick fingers to stimulate the area around her clit. She gagged on Bubba’s cock as she felt her orgasm rising, showering Lewin’s face with her pungent juices that now dripped off his chin.
‘Oh baby’ Lewin croaked, as he pulled Jessica off the bed to sit astride him and guided his thick, long tool into her soaking snatch.
She soon found that she had two cocks in her face, vying for her attention and found her hands quickly occupied with more rock hard shafts which she proceeded to wank gently. Behind her, a man had greased up his fingers with some looted cream and slid them between her ass cheeks, seeking out her tight little starfish. Jessica relaxed as much as she could while the man lubed her anus and slid a finger inside her tightest hole, making her gasp as he plunged it deep inside. Lewin was pumping her pussy like a man possessed while the guys in front of her were taking turns to fuck her hot mouth, calling her ‘bitch’, ‘whore’…anything they could think of which only served to increase her excitement.
She felt Lewin’s fat cock twitch and spasm inside her and then erupt as he came in wave after wave deep inside her belly, continuing to fuck her to the hilt. As his cock softened it slid out of her well screwed hole with a plop and she now found herself sitting astride Barry Martin, guiding his dick into her dripping cunt. Before she could start riding him she felt another tool prodding at her asshole, demanding entry. Barry pulled her forward and she felt her ass cheeks being pulled apart and a rock hard cock poking at her tight chute. Jessica moaned as she felt the mushroom head stretch her sphincter and then he was inside her, moving deeper and now in tandem with the cock in her pussy, causing the most intense sensations she had ever known. She felt Bubba’s cock in her mouth begin to pulse, covering her face in its sticky seed, immediately replaced by another man she didn’t even recognise.
The heavy balls of the man behind her were slapping her ass at the end of each stroke, the man screwing her pussy was mauling her tits and fingering her clit and the warm, sticky spray on her body told her that the shaft she held in her hand had just shot its load. The sensations all rolled into one as Jessica lost track of time and lost track of who and where she was as panting orgasms wracked her slim body.
Jessica was a plaything for these men, it was as if she had no will of her own as they used her body to relieve their pent up desires. One after the other they pushed her into every position imaginable, serving their deepest fantasies as they plundered every hole until they were spent and she was alone and spread eagled on the floor, covered with the fruits of their lust.
Jessica lay there for a few minutes and then stiffly got to her feet.
‘Any chance of grabbing a shower baby’ she said to Lewin, smiling coyly.
‘Where are you gonna get a shower babe?’ he laughed. ‘Anything that could be ripped out has been ripped out’.
‘Maybe in the Warden’s office?’
Lewin looked her in the eyes. ‘OK, four of you take her to the Warden’s office’. ‘Any trouble come straight back’.
Jessica slipped on her discarded dress and followed the men to her old workplace. The main office had been trashed but the small, private bathroom behind was more or less untouched and Jessica gratefully climbed under the steaming jets. She now had a little time to think – the men didn’t seem to want to harm her but they were dangerous and unstable and she had no idea how long she could keep them sweet.
She finished her shower and dried off quickly on a scrap of towel as the men once again eyed her firm, sexy body and walked back to the cell with them.
‘I have an idea’ she announced to Lewin.
‘Go ahead’ he said with an air of hopelessness. ‘Bubba’s just checked and the whole place is surrounded by cops’. ‘There’s guys out there chucking stuff and taking the odd pot shot with a rifle but we’re screwed basically’.
‘There’s some uniforms, fresh back from the laundry in the Warden’s closet’. ‘The door is intact so they should still be there’. ‘They will know I’m a prisoner and as the only woman, I will be attracting most of the attention’.
‘Go on’ said Lewin, the germ of what she was planning beginning to form in his mind.
‘Are there negotiators out there?’ she asked.
‘Yeah’ said Bubba ‘but they ain’t mentioning you’.
‘Of course not you dumb fuck’ said Jessica exasperatedly. ‘That would be the surest way of getting me gang banged’ she said with more than a hint of irony.
There were sniggers around the cell – not many of them would dare talk to Bubba like that but she had appeared to get away with it.
‘We need someone, a prisoner, to come to the door and say he was releasing us as a goodwill gesture’ she continued.
‘Who is going to volunteer to stay in this stinking hole while the rest of us bunk off’ snapped Lewin.
There was a moment of silence and then an older man stepped forward. ‘I’ll do it’.
‘Frank, why would you do a thing like that?’ said Lewin as if the man was stupid.
‘There’s nothing outside for me Matt, I couldn’t survive outside now, who would want me?’ replied Frank.
Lewin looked at him and made a snap decision.
‘Let’s go’ he said and they all hurried down to the Warden’s office.
Ten minutes later they were making their way down the service corridor dressed as the hated screws towards the north entrance. The door had been battered but the prisoners had not been able to force a way through the armoured structure and it was now abandoned.
Jessica punched in the exit code and was relieved when the door opened. Frank stood behind her and Lewin, pushing them both out the door about 100 yards from the surrounding cordon of Police.
‘I’m releasing some hostages’ he shouted. ‘I don’t want no trouble so don’t shoot or my men will kill ‘em’.
Frank dashed back inside and the rest of the ‘guards’ came out blinking into the light. With their heads down they made their way to the nearest part of the cordon, surprising the confused men on the roof who failed to get a single shot off.
Jessica was immediately engulfed by newsmen and reporters who had instantly recognised her as she crossed no man’s land and she was soon in the middle of an animated and detailed interview. Hardly anyone noticed the guards although they suffered a few sneering looks from the Police officers, who assumed from their crisp uniforms and lack of bruises that they had given up without a fight.
‘OK, you men over here, yelled the District Commissioner at the guards, shaking their hands without even looking at them and smiling a fixed smile as a thin line of photographers reeled off a few shots.
‘Over there for debrief’ he waved airily as he charged into the media scrum for a far better photo opportunity with Jessica.
The ‘guards’ quickly split up and edged away from where they were supposed to go. No one noticed as they quietly made their way through the crowd and disappeared into the surrounding streets.
Lewin stuck his hands in his pockets, relishing his first taste of freedom, and felt a scrap of paper. He pulled it out and read it. It said simply ‘Thanks hun’ luv Jessica and a phone number. Lewin broke into a wide smile and walked a little taller as he turned the corner, losing sight of the prison for the first time in years.

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Fiction

The Interns (Part 4)

Jaime Regan felt pretty good about himself, but then again, when didn’t he? He was healthy, goddamned attractive, he was hung, and his boring day-to-day job as an intern in a big corporate building had suddenly got a little more interesting.
It was an interesting day indeed when Jaime had entered the bathroom and found naughty little Levon Cole shooting his load all over the place. Levon was cute. Not only was he hot and sexy, but he also tried so hard to be the alpha male. Jamie liked a guy in charge.
And so did Levon, apparently. Jaime couldn’t help but notice the way Levon looked at their boss, Jim Scott. Sure, the guy was a gorgeous beast, but Jaime always thought he was too old for him. Levon, however, was impressed, and had happily done every assignment Jim had thrown at him. Maybe this could be used to his advantage, Jamie had figured. And Jaime also liked having the advantage.
In fact, Jaime had the advantage right now, as he sat in his parked car across the street from Levon’s house, masturbating himself in the darkness of the night.
“I love you, Levon,” Jaime whispered as he came all over his steering wheel.
“Morning, Levon,” Jim Scott said as he emerged from his car in the parking lot.
Levon strode through the lot, bundled against the winter chill. “Hey, Jim,” he replied.
Jim caught up with Levon as they entered the building. “Where’s your mom?”
“She’s taking a sick day.”
“Ah, that’s too bad,” Jim said with a strange grin on his face.
They waited in silence in the lobby for an elevator to come. Levon couldn’t help but feel awkward.
An elevator came and they both entered. God, twelve floors up in awkward silence? Levon thought.
But as they hit the sixth floor, the elevator came to a sudden stop. The small room lurched and the lights dimmed. Levon went to push the emergency call button when Jim placed a hand on his arm.
“Don’t.” he said, looking at Levon with steely eyes.
“What do we do?” Levon asked.
Without a word, Jim leaned in and kissed Levon on the lips. Surprised, Levon backed into the wall, but didn’t refuse. Jim reached down and grabbed Levon by the crotch as his tongue explored his employee’s mouth.
Jim broke away from the kiss and got down on his knees. He unzipped Levon’s pants and reached in to find an already hard cock. Levon leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes and let Jim take over as his boss stroked his cock. Pure pleasure jolted up his body as he felt a mouth close around his dick.
Suddenly, Levon felt the all too familiar feeling of cum rising in his shaft, and without time to control himself, Levon began shooting hot semen down Jim’s throat. No, no, no! Levon screamed in his mind. Not now!
He looked down to see Jim smiling up at him, cum dribbling out of his mouth.
“A quick-shooter, huh?” he chuckled.
Levon jumped awake, a feeling of both subsiding pleasure and pure embarrassment washing over him. He was in a cold sweat, and looked down and saw his boxers were wet with ejaculate. He sat up in his bed, panting from the incredibly vivid wet dream. He looked over at his alarm clock. 2:30am. His eyes then moved to his bedroom window, which faced the street in front of his house.
In the moonlight, he thought he saw the taillights of a car pulling away into the night.
At work that morning, Levon tried to avoid Jim as best he could, even going so far as to hitting the close door button on the lobby elevator as he saw Jim enter the building. Hopefully Jim hadn’t noticed.
He could not avoid Jaime, however, as the boy say next to him in the cubicle, pretending to be interested in his current task of filling out supply forms.
“Have a good night last night, Levon?” Jaime asked.
“Yeah, sure. How about you?”
“Pretty swell, I say. Just hung around… had a nice jack-off session.”
“Fantastic,” Levon said sarcastically.
“Just thought you’d like to know, babe. I thought about you… you know… as I did it.”
“That’s great.”
“What do you think about when you do it? Twinks? Studs? Bondage?”
“Mainly twinks, I guess.”
“Jim Scott, perhaps?”
“What?” Levon’s voice rose, but he tried to hide any insecurities.
“You know, Jim. Our boss.”
“Um… no, not really.”
“Really? How could you not? He’s pretty damn hot. A little old for my tastes, but… mmm.”
“He’s only 25.”
“Oh, I see.”
“What are you getting at?” Levon was getting annoyed with Jaime’s taunts.
Jaime laughed. “I see the way you look at him, it’s cute. I remember my first crush.”
“It’s not a crush. And even if it was, it definitely wouldn’t be my first.”
“Oh yeah? What’s the name of your last boyfriend?”
“Derek.”
“Ooh, tell me about him.”
Just then, Jim appeared at their cubicle. “Hey guys,” he said, “what’s new?”
“Not much,” Jaime replied.
“Yeah? Nothing exciting?”
“Is there something either of us can do for you, Jim?” Levon said coldly.
“Um… no, not really,” Jim replied, a hint of disappointment in his voice. “I was just making small talk. I guess you guys are busy. I’ll see you later.” Jim turned and went to his office.
Jaime waited until Jim was out of earshot. “Jeez, that’s no way to treat a crush.”
“I told you, he’s not my crush.”
“Well I certainly wouldn’t want to be your crush if you shooed me off like that.”
Levon tried to ignore the comment and went back to his work.
Levon sat alone in the breakroom, drinking fresh coffee a coworker had made. He was about to leave when Jim entered.
“Hey, Levon,” he said.
“Hey, Jim… look I’m sorry about snapping at you earlier. I was frustrated with some stuff…”
“Oh, no, that’s ok. I understand what you’re going though.”
“You do?”
Jim grabbed a mug of coffee and sat down across from Levon. They sat at the infamous table that he and Jaime had shared that night.
“I’ve had the chance of talking with your mom a lot,” Jim said. “She talks a lot about you. I hope you don’t mind…” Jim looked down at his coffee, “but she told me about you being gay.”
Levon was at a loss for words. He wasn’t mad about his mom telling him, but he was surprised at how casual Jim seemed about it. Maybe he wasn’t used to a male figure such as Jim in his life that appeared accepting of him. Not since his dad…
“She… did?” Levon said quietly.
“Yeah, and believe me, I’m ok with it. I’m open to all people… of all lifestyles. And I know how hard it could be, trying to fit in and whatnot.”
“Yeah… it can be.”
Jim placed a hand on Levon’s. Levon looked from Jim’s hand, up to a kind smile on his face. “If you need anything,” Jim said, “you can come to me.”
Before Levon could respond, Jim got up and left the room. Levon looked back down at his hand and sighed.
Jaime stood just outside of the breakroom, eavesdropping on Jim and Levon’s conversation. As he heard Jim get out of his chair, he moved back down the hall so he wouldn’t be seen. When Jim left the room, Jaime took his chance.
“Jim!” Jaime called, catching up to his boss as he walked to his office.
“What’s up, Jaime?”
“Oh, not much. I was just wondering what you had planned after work.”
“Um, not sure. Why do you ask?”
“Well, I was planning on inviting some guys from work to go get some drinks.”
“Aren’t you a little young to be drinking?”
“I’m 18 sir, I’m legal in this state. In fact, 17 is legal age for sexual consent, you know.”
“Um… right?”
Jaime laughed. “I’m just spitting out facts. I’m kind of a bookworm.”
“I see. Who all’s going?”
“Oh, just a couple of guys from sales. Levon might go.”
“We’ll have to see, Jaime. Sure sounds fun though.”
“Ok, you let me know. I’ll email you the address of this really hip bar I know.”
“Sounds good, Jaime. I’ll think about it.”
After work, Jaime sat alone at the bar, drinking a fruity beverage and eyeing the front door. It was a pretty happening place, with music loud enough to enjoy but not so loud that you had to yell over. The prices were fare, too. He’d been there for half an hour.
Jim Scott walked through the entrance. Jaime called to him from his stool and Jim walked over to him.
“Glad you could make it, boss!”
“Hey Jaime,” Jim said as looked around. “Where is everybody?”
“I guess everyone else had other plans. Levon should be coming soon, though.”
“Ok…” Jim ordered a stiff drink and continued looking around. “Is this… a gay bar?”
“Whoops, you caught me.” Jaime laughed. “Does it bother you?”
“No, not at all. I’m open to it.”
“Open to it, you say?”
Jim chuckled, and Jaime thought he saw him blush. “No, not like that.”
“Ok, Jim. Whatever you say.”
“So, what do you want to talk about?”
“I’m open to anything,” Jaime teased, “What’s on your mind, boss?”
“Hey, I’m not your boss here,” Jim replied pleasantly.
“Good… good.”
“Are you sure you want to go?” Stacey Cole asked as she and Levon left the building.
“Yeah, I feel like taking a walk, maybe getting a drink somewhere.”
“You? A drinker now? Sheesh, my boy’s all grown up!”
“I’ll take a cab home, mom.”
“Ok, go have some fun.”
Levon walked away from the parking lot and into the city, making his way into downtown. He really wanted to take a walk to clear his mind after such a long day.
He spent the next two hours wandering the city, smoking and pondering. He passed by several clubs and restaurants until he noticed a bar he had heard about from somewhere he couldn’t remember. The pink neon sign of “Dix Bar” glowed to Levon as he walked towards the homosexual watering hole.
Two hours and two drinks later, Jim Scott was a little tipsy.
“What’s it like?” Jim asked.
“What’s what like?” Jaime responded.
“Being gay…”
“Honesty, Jim… it’s fun. Being with another guy is great because it’s practically like doing yourself. You’re a guy, and he’s a guy, so you know what turns him on, what feels good… it’s easy.”
“Really? I guess that makes sense.”
Jaime’s attention went from his boss to the front door, as he saw Levon Cole enter.
“Levon?” Jaime said aloud, forgetting to hide his surprise. He had really not told Levon about his after-work plans.
“Levon!” Jim called as he followed Jaime’s surprised gaze. “Come! Drink with us!”
Levon saw Jaime first, which didn’t surprise him to see him in a place like Dix. But as he moved closer, he saw Jim sitting with him; a complete surprise.
“Jim?” Levon said as he sat down with them. “What are you doing here?”
“Jaime invited me.” Levon shot his coworker a suspicious glance, and it was returned with a slight grin.
“But I’m not gay,” Jim almost chuckled, “although I’ve been talking with our buddy here, and I’m honestly getting curious. He makes it sound pretty damn good.
Levon could smell gin on his boss’s breath. “You’re drunk, Jim.”
“A little…”
“Let him have a little fun, Levon,” Jaime said.
“All I’m saying is that I hope he doesn’t end up doing something he’ll regret…”
“Relax, Levon,” Jaime said, patting Jim on the back.
“Yeah, Levon, relax,” chimed Jim, taking another drink of gin.
Something seemed to have caught Jaime’s eye. “Hey,” he said, “I think I see someone I know. You mind if I go say hi?”
The two didn’t object and Jaime disappeared into the crowded bar.
“Good kid, good kid,” Jim said, his speech becoming slurred.
“He’s alright.” Levon muttered, and called the bartender over for a drink. He ordered a beer and looked back at Jim.
“I need to take a leak,” Jim almost stuttered.
“Go for it.”
Jim got up and left, leaving Levon alone at the bar. Levon took a sip of his beer and thought for a long while. Something didn’t sit right here, with Jaime brining Jim here, the way he acted so casually…
…Jim has been gone for a long while…
Levon looked at his watch. Jim had been in the bathroom for at least ten minutes. He was about to get up and look when Jim finally returned, taking the barstool next to Levon.
“What took you so long?” Levon asked.
“I did something in there, Levon.” Jim replied quietly.
“What did you…” Levon stopped mid-sentence when he caught a look at Jim’s face. On his chin, Levon could swear he saw a glob of what looked like cum. “What did you do?” Levon continued, concern growing in his voice.
“I gave someone a blowjob.”
“No…”
“I did… I was in the stall, and I looked down to see a hole between my stall and the next… now, I know what a ‘glory hole’ is… so I told whoever was next door that I’d do it… next thing I know… I’m sucking this dick… and I kinda liked it, you know?”
“God, Jim…” Levon didn’t know what else to say.
“I just did what Jaime had told me… to just do what I knew that other guy would like since I know what I’d like if a woman had done that to me…”
“Jaime…?” A feeling of anger came over Levon. He got up from his stool and walked over to the bathroom. He burst open the door and was not the least bit surprised to see Jaime emerging from the stall with the glory hole, zipping up his pants.
“Hey, Levon,” Jaime said. “Did you know this place had a glory hole?”
“Fuck…”
“Here? Right now? I kinda just busted a nut, but if you give me a few minutes I’m game.”
“No, no, no… you know what I mean…”
“I don’t, babe.”
“Jim just sucked your dick, damnit!”
“Was that him?” Jaime looked back at the hole with a sinister smile. “Not bad, boss…”
Levon grabbed Jaime by the collar and shoved him against the wall. “You planned this! You knew it was him in the other side of that hole…”
“Maybe I did… so what? I thought you didn’t have a crush on him.”
Levon loosened his grip. “No… I… don’t.”
“Even if you don’t, you should have him suck you off. He’s pretty good.”
“Fuck you.”
Levon let Jaime go and stormed out of the bathroom.
He found Jim where he had left him at the bar. “Let’s go,” Levon ordered. “I’m taking you home.”
“What’s wrong?” Jim asked innocently.
Levon tried to calm himself. “It’s late… we’ve got work in the morning.”
“Shit! You’re right. Let’s go… wait, where’s Jaime?”
“He left already.”
“Oh, ok.”
Levon helped Jim with his jacket and walked him outside. They hailed a cab and took it back to the parking lot at work. Jim gave Levon his keys and let him drive him home.
As Levon walked Jim to his front door, Jim leaned over and awkwardly hugged his employee.
“You know… I’m still kinda horny…”
As much as Levon truly wanted to take advantage of Jim’s horniness, he did not want to take advantage of his inebriation.
“You’re drunk, Jim. Go get some sleep.”
“How you getting home?”
“I’ll call a cab. Go sleep. I’ll see you in the morning, ok?”
“Ok… you’re a good guy, Levon. I think I’ll promote you.”
“That’s great, Jim.”
Jim fumbled with his keys and managed to open the door. Levon made sure that his boss made his way to his couch. Jim flopped onto his sofa and quickly fell asleep.
Levon called a cab, went home, masturbated, and drifted into a dreamless sleep.

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Fiction

Farm Girl Virgin

This is a syory about a plump young farm girl who loses her virginity to a farm employee on her parents farm.

Fiction

At the Top of the Stairs

(Audio versions of this and many more of my stories can be found here: www.literotica.com/stories/memberpage.php?uid=533505&page=submissions)