Selling It Book Four
To My Sister’s Sleazy Husband
By Amanda Clover @amandasmut
Thisbookandallitscontentsarecopyright2019byAmandaClover. Allrightsarereservedandnoportionsmaybereproducedunlessfor theuseofbriefquotationsforreviewpurposes.
Allcharactersappearinginthisstoryareovertheageof18.Thisisa workofparodyandanyresemblancetorealpeopleorsituationsis coincidental.
Paying the Toll
I was no longer nervous going into Mr. Brown’s office for my weekly visit. The door was ajar and I knocked softly as I pushed it open. I was wearing a tight, button-down blouse that was just sheer enough for my white bra to be visible in the bright light from the windows behind the big principal. I was wearing a hip-hugging pencil skirt and pantyhose. Not my favorite, but it gave me a sexy office girl look, especially when I wore my hair up. The big, usually taciturn principal beamed when I walked in, because he knew that he was going to be having a good morning.
Mr. Brown looked me up and down, and there was that familiar smile. That “I’m about to get my dick wet” grin. Oh, right, you might be wondering why my principal is so happy to see me. Well, I’ve worked out an arrangement with him where he lets me run my little one-woman escort business out of the school and fuck various teachers. In exchange for turning a blind eye to what I’m doing, I give him freebies every week. So far, just blowjobs, but if Mr. Brown pushed it, I would take that big black dick.
“Hello there, Miss Douglas,” he said, pushing back from his desk. “Please close the door.”
“Yes, Principal Brown,” I said, shutting the door behind me and sauntering over to the desk. I tried not to look at the framed picture of the principal with his wife and three kids during a vacation in Hawaii. Kind of ruins the whole vibe, you know?
“Mmmm, you look prim and proper today.” He leaned back and his office chair creaked beneath his former football player weight. He patted a meaty thigh. “Why don’t you come sit on my lap, sugar?”
I turned my hip and dropped my plush rear in the tight skirt in his lap. The chair rolled back a little and Principal Brown caught me in his arms and let out a chuckling, “Oof!”
There was no mistaking the bulge of his cock in his trousers. I squirmed my hips and rubbed my butt against the hard thing poking my rear. He curled a finger into my button-down blouse, popping the top button to reveal the tops of my big tits cradled in white lace.
“They just get juicier every morning,” he murmured. “Take ‘em out for me, baby doll.”
“You sure?” I said, already working the buttons open. “What if somebody walks in like last time?”
“I guess that’s a risk I’m going to have to take,” he said, his gaze glued to my creamy mounds as I finished unbuttoning and untucking my blouse. I discarded it on his desk and bent my arms behind my back to get at the bra’s clasp.
“Let me help you out there, baby,” he murmured, reaching a hand behind me and pinching open my bra’s clasp like he had a degree in taking off bras. He peeled my bra off with his other hand and let out an appreciative grunt as he had a good look at my breasts. He cupped my right breast and then my left, lifting them in his palms as if comparing their weight. “You have the best damn tits I’ve ever put my hands on. Even better than this cheerleader I dated in Alabama.”
“You can do more than put your hands on them,” I said, rising on his lap and mashing my breasts against his face. I heard him let out a muffled laugh from under my tits and then he crushed them against his face and began eagerly kissing and sucking my breasts. He moved back and forth between them, his lips popping and his suction sending spikes from my fat nipples to my aching clit. He was getting me all wet and I figured a that rate he would have to fuck me.
That’s when Superintendent Matthews Jameson rapped his knuckles on the door.
“You in there, Jack?” called the superintendent. Principal Brown shoved me to the floor and I let out a yelp. There was no time to do anything other than slide backwards into the
footwell of Principal Brown’s desk. He rolled forward, trapping me in there as the superintendent opened the door and stepped inside.
“Hey, Kevin,” said Principal Brown. “What can I, uh, do for you?”
His knees were practically in my face and I bonked my head on the desk. Principal brown cleared his throat to cover.
“What’s this shirt and bra doing on your desk?” asked the superintendent with a chuckle.
“Oh, ah, lost and found,” said the principal. “One of my students left it on a bench in the locker room. She’s supposed to stop by so I can return it.”
“Heh, nice big knockers on the girl,” said Principal Brown.
“Yeah, she has quite a pair. Can I help you with something other than bras?”
“Actually, I hope so,” said the superintendent, sitting down across the desk from Principal Brown. It looked like I wasn’t going anywhere for a while. Superintendent Jameson continued, “It’s about this teenage prostitute rumor I’ve been hearing.”
“Oh? What’s that?” Principal Brown leaned back with a creak of his chair’s springs. His new position gave me a good look at the huge bulge in his trousers. His zipper for his fly was easily within reach. I don’t see how Mr. Jameson would have had a few of Mr. Brown’s lap.
“Supposedly, you’ve got a teenage girl at your school that has been having sexual relations with various teachers at Peach Valley High School. Some names have been floated around about teachers that might have been involved.”
“Anyone I know?” asked Principal Brown.
“Well, yes, but nothing confirmed, so I’m not prepared to release any names to you. Have you heard anything about all this?”
“No,” lied Mr. Brown. “Haven’t heard a thing about the matter.”
I probably should have been listening to Superintendent Jameson presenting evidence to Mr. Brown, but I was distracted by his bulging cock being right in my face. I reached up to his zipper and managed to get it halfway down before he sucked in a sharp breath. His hand shot down to try to stop me, but it was too late. I had him unzipped.
“Everything alright?” asked the superintendent.
“Y-yeah, fine,” said Mr. Brown, giving me a warning kick in the shin with his shoe. “Just a little tense this morning.”
“Anyway, as I was saying…”
The superintendent continued to lay out his story about me as I reached into the flap of Mr. Brown’s boxers and felt the thick hose of his mocha brown cock. I wrapped my hand around his shaft and dragged his cock out. He couldn’t fight with me or he would draw attention to what was happening under his desk. God, it was huge. In the dim light under his desk, it felt even bigger than usual. He kept trying to talk to the superintendent as I leaned in and ran a lollipop lick from his balls up to the head of his cock.
“Aahhh, definitely not, I would have, ahhhh, heard something about that getting passed around the, ahhh, school,” said Mr. Brown, tensing each time I gave him a long lick. On the fifth lick, when I reached the bulbous head of his cock, I parted my lips and took him into my mouth. I resisted the urge to moan around him as I started to suck. My movements were limited by the desk over my head, but by angling his cock forward a little I could bob just a bit with half his cock shoved in my mouth.
“You need to put more feelers out,” said the superintendent. “I have heard four complaints. Two from teachers and two from concerned parents. None of them know anything, not really, but they all had stories. One of them said a janitor was having sex with a student in a supply closet.”
True, I thought. Mr. Hurley on Monday banged me in the downstairs supply closet. I suppressed a chuckle and sucked a little harder on
Mr. Brown’s fat cock.
“One mom was distraught that one of the couches was receiving oral sex from a student in the locker room after school. Can you imagine?”
Yeah, I could imagine, but it wasn’t true. Coach Tate paid for me to jerk him off on my tits. That was all. Just a little hand job and then I let him lick his cum back off my breasts.
“It’s, ahhhh, uuhhhhh, troubling,” moaned Mr. Brown, squirming in his chair. I stroked his big balls as I popped my lips wetly over the head of his cock.
“The faculty I can deal with,” said Superintendent Jameson. “It’s the parents I’m worried about.”
“Aaahh, well, I understand your, um, position, but…but… ahhhhhHHHhhhhhh!”
Mr. Brown’s fat cock twitched and pumped and his hot cum spurted into my mouth. I let it cover my tongue, sucking even harder to draw out his salty cream. He shuddered and gripped the edge of his desk. His cock twitched again and again until he had emptied his load into my mouth. I pulled off him slowly.
“Sorry,” he panted. “Having some, spasms in my leg.”
“Are you sure? I thought I heard something.”
I fought back a laugh and flicked my tongue under Mr. Brown’s cockhead. He jerked and pushed big hand into my face. I started sucking on his thumb, letting him feel all that cum swirling around in my mouth.
“Oh, god,” he groaned. “No, um, it’ll be alright. I took some medication for it.”
“Well, alright,” said the superintendent as he stood up. “I hope we’re on the same page with this stuff, Jack. I’d hate for this issue to come out in the open at a PTA meeting.”
“I’ll handle it,” said Mr. Brown.
The superintendent slipped out of the office and Mr. Brown rolled his chair back from his desk. He stared angrily down at me as I leaned my head out and opened my mouth, showing him all the cum.
“You little slut,” he said. “You could have got me in real trouble. Now, go on, swallow that.”
I nodded and gulped it down. It was rough. A real big one. I winced as it slid down my throat and then seemed to stick there. I had to swallow a couple more time to clear that tacky sensation away.
Mr. Brown let me out from under his desk. He wiped his cock off on a tissue and zipped it back into his trousers.
“Everything still under control?” I asked.
He surprised me by roughly grabbing my left breast and squeezing it. His thick fingers worked over the nipple, rolling it back and forth before giving it a hard pinch.
“You tell me, Miss Douglass,” he growled. “You need to be a lot more discreet. If these complaints keep coming in, I am going to have to give you up.” He squeezed my other breast hard enough to make me gasp. “And I don’t want to give you up.”
“Yes, Mr. Brown,” I whimpered.
He pulled me against his face again, kissing and sucking on my tits. Making them all wet and sloppy, so that by the time he was done, and I was back in my bra and blouse, I could still feel his spit damp on my nipples. He gave me a hard swat on my ass before letting me leave the office.
He was right and I knew it. I had to be more discreet.
Jasmine sat with me at lunch and I related what had happened with Mr. Brown. I guess I did a good job telling the story, because it left her with tears of laughter in her eyes.
“Oh, god, you are going to kill him if you keep doing stuff like that,” she said.
“I was only trying to hold up my end of the bargain,” I said and then noticed Coach Tate in the lunch line. I winked at him and he reddened a little bit. He was a burly, buzz-cut football freak. I didn’t really like him very much before he became a client, but I had warmed to him after he paid for a hand job. He had a nice cock and I appreciated that he cleaned up after himself.
“Do you think we could hang out today?” asked Jasmine. “It seems like you’re busy every night and the only time I see you is at lunch and at work. And, you know, that has gotten weird too.”
“Yeah, sorry about that,” I sighed. “But Mr. Becker has been on his best behavior, hasn’t he?”
“He has,” she agreed reluctantly. “No more ‘bumping into me’ when I’m looking in the mini-fridge in the break room. Is everything fine with that?”
“Yeah, um, the pills worked,” I said, thinking about that emergency trip to the pharmacy to get contraception. “I had proof a few days ago.”
“Good,” she said and gave my hand an earnest squeeze. “So can we hang out or what?”
“Not tonight,” I said, apologetically. “With Thanksgiving coming up I am trying to get in as many customers as I can before the holiday.”
“Who gets you tonight?” she asked, not hiding her bitterness about being denied.
“Mr. Blum and Mr. Castro,” I said, indicating two teachers visible in the teacher’s lounge. Mr. Blum was the skinny track coach and history teacher. He was once a real hottie, but he was in his late fifties and his knees had started to go. He walked around with a limp. Mr. Castro was much younger, early thirties, handsome, chubby but not fat. He was a math teacher and new to the school as of last year. Somehow, the two of them had become close friends. Close enough, that they were sharing a date with me. “I’m meeting them
at the Motel 49 by the highway. They promised to bring some drinks. I promised to let Mr. Blum have the booty.”
“Oh my god,” laughed Jasmine. “You’re going to get buttfucked by Mr. Blum?”
“He paid an extra $500,” I said with a shrug. “It’s not like I’ve never done it before.”
“Good luck with that then,” she scoffed. “I will be hanging out with Alia having fun while you are in a very uncomfortable position with Mr. Blum at the grossest motel in Peach Valley.”
Two hours after school and I was standing outside the Motel 49 with its flickering sign just turning on for the night and wondering what the hell I was doing. This was the sort of motel where prostitutes ended up murdered by serial killers. Then I heard the chirp of a car alarm and saw Mr. Castro walking to one of the drive-up rooms. He saw me in the lot and waved to me.
“Here goes nothing,” I muttered.
Mr. Castro and Mr. Blum loved my office girl outfit. They took a bunch of pictures of me on the bed, slowly undressing, and then Mr. Blum filmed while Mr. Castro went down on me. He was pretty bad at it, lots of tongue waggling, but like he struggled to find my clit. He also kept spitting loudly on my asshole, which wasn’t a big turn on, but Mr. Blum kept encouraging him to “get it wet” and “slide a finger in.” Before long, I was getting my pussy awkwardly eaten by Mr. Castro while he finger-fucked the pink ring of my asshole.
“Ohhhh, you’re so good at that,” I moaned. I continued the lie with, “You’re going to make me cum so hard.”
“Yes, cum for me, baby,” gasped Mr. Castro.
I made a lot of noise like I was cumming. I even squeezed my Kegel muscles so he could feel me clenching around his finger. But I was relieved when he stopped doing what he was doing.
“Turn over,” commanded Mr. Blum. “I am going to fuck you in the ass now.”
He was the man in charge. Mr. Castro was just there to have fun. If it seems like I’m being perfunctory with these two, that’s because I was. It was not particularly fun, but I got the job done. I sucked Mr. Castro’s cock while Mr. Blum put on a condom and fucked my ass. Mr. Castro didn’t last too long. He came in my mouth and on my face and then lay back, panting, laughing occasionally as he watched my ass getting pounded by Mr. Blum.
The tall and skinny older teacher did fuck my ass hard and deep. He had a really long cock that wasn’t too fat. Getting my ass fucked by that dick was surprisingly my highlight of the evening. I arched my back and threw my ass against him, sliding down onto his cock until I could feel his balls swinging against my cuntlips. He took these long and extra deep strokes into my ass, pulling back slowly and then slamming in quickly.
“Enh! Enh! Enh!” Mr. Blum had this annoying way of grunting as he was working himself up. I was enjoying myself though, fingering my clit as I sucked and fucked, so I didn’t let it bother me too much. He grabbed my ass, spreading it wide as he drilled his cock into my rosebud. He let out a last “ENNNNHHHH!” and pumped his cum into the condom. I felt his cock throbbing against my tight ring.
He eased his shuddering cock out of my ass and I looked back to see the lube-smeared condom drooping with cum in the reservoir. I wanted to leave a good impression on Mr. Blum, so I rolled the condom off his cock and started sucking him. Not my favorite thing to a suck a cock after it has been up my ass, but the wine helped. I nursed his long prick until it went soft and then excused myself to the bathroom to have a quick shower.
While I was cleaning up, I noticed something moving in the shadows behind the shower curtain. I pulled it back and like twenty roaches went running in different directions.
“EEEEEEE!” I screamed and nearly pulled the curtain down falling out of the tub. I scrambled to my feet and ran out of the bathroom. Both guys were staring at my in alarm. I didn’t even try to cover up as I pointed back to the bathroom and said, “Cockroaches!”
Needless to say, there was not a round two with Mr. Blum and Mr. Castro that night. Both of them seemed fairly happy with my service, even if I was still having flashbacks to the roaches.
I swore that I would never see another customer at the Motel 49.
My So-Called Fucked-Up Life
It was around dinner time when I arrived at home. I slipped in through the basement door to avoid being noticed, but my dad was in his little workroom and heard me come in through the sliding door.
“Hey, Payton,” he said, one of those magnifier visors flipped up on his forehead. He was working on placing decals on a model airplane.
“Hey, daddy,” I send and pressed against his back as I hugged him from behind. The glue he was using smelled strong enough that it made me a little dizzy. “What are you working on?”
“F-4 Phantom,” he said, indicating the jet with the camouflagepainted fuselage. “How are you, pumpkin? Good day at school?”
“Oh, I got called to the principal’s office,” I teased. “But I worked things out with him. How are you doing?”
He let out a long sigh. “Not great. The holidays are always a rough time and with tax season coming up soon, ah, well…it’ll be okay.”
I wanted to ask him more. I could see the pain on his face. But I knew for dad sometimes sharing the pain with others was just as bad as suffering it in the first place. He was a private man about stuff like that.
“It’ll be fine,” I said and gave him a kiss on his balding head. “Get back to huffing glue. That’ll make you feel better.”
“Yeah,” he chuckled.
When I reached the ground floor of the house, I heard the music blaring from the second floor. It sounded like Britney Spears. Always a good indication that my mom was up to something. I walked up the stairs and I could hear the thumping and moaning through her bedroom door. I opened the door and looked in on the sight of my mother spread eagle on her bed, her tanlines on full display, with Christian Steel standing at the foot of the bed and holding her by her ankles as he pounded his hard cock into her waxed pussy.
“Oh, hey, honey,” called my mother, waving to me from the bed. Christian only slowed for a stroke and then resumed his heavy pace making my mom’s big fake tits wobble and sway.
I rolled my eyes and said, “You need to be quieter. Dad could come upstairs.”
“Let him watch,” my mom said, waving her hand.
“Yeah, let him watch,” laughed Christian. “Watch a real man fuck his wife.”
“Shut up,” I snapped at Christian.
“Oh? Shut up? Someone wants to be cut off.” He was playing with fire. I doubted my mom knew I had fucked Christian and if she did, she certainly didn’t know Christian was paying to fuck me.
“Don’t forget Thanksgiving at your sister’s,” said my mother. Christian slid his cock out of her pussy and turned her onto her hands and knees to fuck her from behind. She resumed like she had suppressed a burp. “Mmm. She’s very excited to show off the new house. Andy loves you too.”
“Andy?” I scowled. “He’s a piece of shit.”
“Ohhhhh,” my mother moaned. “That’s it. That’s it. Right there. Oooh, Christian, it’s so good when you do it from behind.”
“Bounce that fat ass back on me,” he said, smacking my mother’s big rear.
“A-Andy is a good guy,” my mother moaned, struggling to maintain her composure. “He owns his own business.”
“Like you,” said Christian.
“What’s that?” My mom glanced over her shoulder at him.
“I said, she should join in with us,” said Christian.
“Ew!” my mother and I cried out in unison. Thankfully, this gave me a good excuse to depart from the room. I slammed the door on them and heard my mom burst out laughing. It sent an angry tingle up my spine. She was in the bed she shared with my father and she was getting fucked senseless and laughing at her daughter. I would have hoped for her to get caught except I’m not sure my father would have been able to stand it.
With the rusty sun finally setting, I changed into some shorts and a compression top, put on my sneakers, my favorite workout playing, and went out for a run. Night runs were never my favorite, but I needed to clear my head. I ran five kilometers and stopped at a convenience store to buy something to drink. I chugged the cold, sugary drink, knowing I should have just gulped down water. It sat heavily in my stomach, so I slowed down my pace a little as I resumed my run.
I was approaching a stoplight with a few cars stopped when I noticed someone familiar in a convertible with the top down.
“Vince,” I muttered under my breath. My hunky ex-boyfriend was driving the car. Seated next to him was Audrey Griswold, with a perfect pink bow in her blonde hair, perfect huge tits, and a perfectly toned body. They both looked over at me as I ran past them.
Pleasedon’tcallout,I thought. Pleasedon’tcallout.
“Hey, Payton! How’s it going?” called out Vince. “I haven’t seen you around much!”
I waved to him and smiled, then gestured to my earbuds to suggest I couldn’t hear him because of the music. He said something and Audrey laughed. I assumed she was laughing at me. Fucking perfect
bitch. I was just a volleyball girl. How was I supposed to compete with a cheerleader?
Vince peeled out as the light turned green and left me running through his smoke drifting across the sidewalk. It made me so mad that I wanted to stop running, hide in the bushes of one of the houses nearby, and cry my fucking eyes out. I really thought Vince was the one for a while. I imagined myself with him. But that was long gone. It was clear to me I was just a stepping stone to Audrey, not his future wife.
That was fine. Vince was a loser. He was always broke and needing to borrow money from me and he was going to college to play football and would probably tear his ACL and end up with no NFL career. Meanwhile, I was piling up money and having fun with real men.
“Heyyyyyyy, baby!” shouted a voice from a nearby car.
It was a sleazy-looking guy with thinning dark hair combed back on his balding head and too-tan skin with pale circles around his eyes form wearing sunglasses. Maybe fifty or sixty. The sort of sleazy guy who was too old to care what people thought of him for catcalling a teenage girl running alongside the road. He looked like he was wearing a leisure suit in his giant, pristine 1980s Cadillac.
“What do you want?” I shouted hotly at him.
“I want that beautiful ass in my car, baby,” he laughed. “Come on over. Let’s party.”
“Fuck off?” I said, throwing him the middle finger. I started walking again and he pulled over to the curb and drove alongside me.
“Aw, c’mon, sweetheart, you’re too young and beautiful to be so mad.” He leaned his head out the window and said. “Don’t act like you’re too good for me. I’ll give you a hundred bucks if you get in the car with me. Oh, see, you’re stopping. Not too good for that, are you?”
“Three hundred,” I said, hands on hips. “And show it to me first.”
“What? Holy shit, you mean it.” He stopped his car and grunted as he reached into his back pocket to get his wallet. “Baby, I’m not even gonna argue. Bring that big sexy ass over here and sit in my car.”
He waved the hundred dollar bills out the window. As I approached the driver’s side, he pulled them back into the car. I walked around to the passenger side and climbed in. He reeked of cologne and cigar smoke. He had big fake teeth and a bunch of gold jewelry. Tufts of gray-black hair stuck out of his shirt. Not a leisure suit, but like a mobster’s suit with pin stripes and blue satiny material.
“My name’s Tony,” he said, offering me his hand.
“Payton,” I said.
“Uhhhh-huhhhh,” he grinned, those chompers huge and white. “Alright, Payton. I know a club around the corner with a backroom we can use. Sound good?”
“Yeah, alright,” I said.
Ten minutes later, we were in the back of a strip club called Dick’s Revue, the door locked and Tony with his pants around his ankles. I was kneeling in front of him, bobbing on his cock with my compression top pulled up to my neck to show off my tits. I gave his throbbing red dick a few more slurps and then I lifted my mouth from his cock.
“Are you going to fuck me?” I asked.
“Bossy little slut,” he chuckled. “Yeah, I’ll fuck you. Go in that drawer over there. Christopher keeps a box of rubbers.”
I walked over to the drawer and my eyes widened when I saw a pistol next to the box of condom. Tony reached past me and grabbed a rubber from the box. I took it from him and unrolled the blue latex onto his cock as he roughly fondled my tits and pinched my sensitive nipples. He gave me a big sloppy kiss, forcing his tongue into my mouth. I closed my eyes, breathing in that thick cologne. I thought about Vince and Audrey. I thought about that
$300. My hand worked his latex-wrapped cock, squeezing it and stroking down to his balls.
“You ready, baby?” He asked, leaning back just enough to look me over. I nodded and he said, “Show me that little pussy.”
“You got it, Tony,” I said, feeling like a girl on the Sopranos. I turned around to face the desk, hooked my thumbs into my running shorts, and peeled my shorts and panties down from my plump, peachy ass. Tony was on me in a second. He’d been grabbing my ass when we first walked into the office, but once he saw it naked he really started squeezing and smacking my cheeks.
“Look at that pussy,” he whispered, running his thick fingers over my dewy cunt. He pushed one digit into my tender hole. I sucked in a breath. He rubbed his thumb in the crack of my ass as he pumped two fingers into my pussy. “Oh, yeah, nice and wet, baby.”
He pulled his fingers out and shifted behind me, one hand on my ass and the other grabbing his fat cock to guide it to my teenage pussy. I gasped as he filled me with his dick. It wasn’t the biggest I’d ever had by any means, but it was thick and nice, and with the lubed condom and my wet pussy it slid easily into my tight little cunt. I moaned as he reached around me and grabbed me by the throat.
“What are you doing?” I gasped as he pounded his cock into me hard and fast. He tightened his grip on my throat, but he wasn’t choking me. Not exactly. I didn’t liked it, but it allowed him to bow my body and slammed my ass hard with his hips. My bare breasts bounced, slapped, and splashed against me with his rapid strokes.
“I’m giving you,” he grunted, “what you need. A hard fucking, baby. You need that big Italian sausage.”
He held me upright, shoving his fat salami past my stretched folds and hilting in my cunt again and again. Each time, his balls slapped against my clit, driving little thumps of pleasure up into my core. With one hand on my throat, he reached his other hand around and played with my bouncing breasts, smacking them and pinching them. I should have been mad at him, because it hurt, but I liked it.
I liked the way he was treating me and it was going to make me cum.
“Oohhhhhhh, yesssss,” I cried, his hips slapping faster against my ass and his cock ramming deep into my dripping cunt. “I’m…I’m cumming!”
It hit me with a savage shock, pleasure radiating from my clit and into my core, crackling from my pinched nipples, and curling my toes in my running shoes. My pussy squeezed and rippled around Tony’s fat cock. My nectar dripped from his slapping balls.
He released my throat and shoved me facedown onto the desk. I overturned a cup full of pens that were sent rolling onto the floor and bumped the computer causing it to noisily boot up. Sweating, still wracked by spasms of pleasure that made my pussy and asshole clench, I looked back over my shoulder at my Italian stallion. He grinned at me with those huge fake teeth, his cock twitching in my pussy.
“You like that dick, baby?” he asked, giving me another deep stroke.
“Mmmmm, yes,” I admitted. I gripped the desk with one hand and reached the other back to spread my cheeks. “But I’d like it better in my ass.”
“Ohhh-ho-ho!” laughed Tony, sliding his cock out of my pussy. “You got it baby. Looks like your ass knows its way around a cock.”
He rubbed his cum-slicked length in my crack and I felt the slight twinge of rawness reminding me of Mr. Blum fucking my ass only a few hours earlier. I didn’t want it to feel the same as that.
“No condom,” I said. “You can cum in my ass.”
“Oh, you’re a real dirty slut, huh?” He laughed and snapped the condom off his fat dick. “You young broads just keep getting nastier every year while I stay the same perfect gentleman. But I like it! Alright, beautiful! Relax that little rosebud for Uncle Tony.”
I moaned as his greasy cockhead pressed against my tight clench. I let out my breath as he bulled his cock into my tender ring,
stretching me far wider than Mr. Blum with his skinny cock. It hurt, but it also felt wonderful as Tony’s thick cock spread my ass and filled me wit his throbbing length.
“Ohhhhhh, sweetheart, that’s good and tight,” he groaned and grabbed my cheeks with both hands. He held my ass like that, spread wide, watching his fat cock skewer my little teenage butthole. Working it slowly in and back out again. In and out. It felt so good.
“Ohhhhhhh, Tony, fuck my ass,” I panted. “Fuck it. Ohhhhh god, that’s good.”
“Yeah, it is,” he agreed. “Oh, that pussy was squeezing me like a vice, but this incredible. You’re going to make me blow my nuts out in there.”
“Yesssss,” I moaned, pushing my ass back against his hands and his impaling cock. “Oh my god, yes, fill my ass!”
“Oh, fuck, baby,” he groaned, thrusting faster. “Oh, I’m gonna do it.”
“Yes!” I cried, a ripple of pleasure spreading trough me.
“Ohhhhh! Cazzo!” He gripped my cheeks so hard it hurt and thrust balls-deep into my asshole. I cried out with him as I felt his cock twitch and throb in my stuffed hole. A moment later, I felt the heavy gush of his cum into my ass. He pulled back and slid in again, his cock gliding easily on the sliminess of his cock. He pumped into me three and then four more times, finally slowly to a stop and resting his weight against my ass. His cock twitched a few more times in my creamy ass. “Fucking hell, you got a good ass, baby doll. You come around here any time. I got cash for you.”
“Thanks, Tony,” I said, squeezing against his cock.
It had worked. He had helped me forget Vince and Audrey laughing as they drove past me. I was enjoying the sensation of his cock going soft in my cum-filled ass so much that I didn’t notice anything was wrong until the cockroach scurried across my hand.
My scream was so loud the DJ stopped the music in the strip club and sent somebody back to check on what was happening in the
office.
Twice in one day. I was starting to sense a theme.
Working Relationship
The next day, I was doing everything I could to try not to think about Thanksgiving at my sister’s house. Which was hard, because she kept texting me telling me things to tell my mom (who wasn’t answering her texts) and suggesting things for me to bring. She even sent over a video showing off her decorated kitchen and living room which included Andy smirking near a giant TV. Apparently his business was doing great while my dad was worried about being able to pay to keep the lights on at our house.
Luckily for me, I was at working a shift at the desk at the Chesapeake Hotel, which meant I could distract myself with the customers or coordinating with the cleaning staff. When I wasn’t doing my actual job, I was probably being sexually harassed by Mr. Becker. Which was fine to a point.
“You wore your hair up,” he said, watching me from the door of his office.
“Just for you, Mr. Becker,” I said sarcastically, filling out a booking on the computer and not even looking in his direction.
He was a fat, greasy, sleazy asshole. But I had to admit my feelings for him had been changed dramatically by making him a customer. He was much more respectful towards me and I, well, I wouldn’t say I had fond feelings for him, not exactly, but I sort of liked the attention. It felt good instead of oppressive like it had. Which, yes, makes me the worst example of a #metoo ever.
I finished what I was typing and finally turned to acknowledge Mr. Becker. He was looking as bloated and sleazy as ever, but at least he had stopped wearing that awful toupee. He looked me up and down
in my uniform white jacket and short white skirt. My long legs were in white stockings and I was wearing white heels. You’d almost believe I was a good girl if you didn’t look too closely, but Mr. Becker was looking very closely.
“Oh, um, Mr. Becker,” I said sweetly. “Could I have a word with you in your office?”
“Of course,” he said, unable to keep a grin off his face. “But I don’t have thousands of dollars for you. Just, uh, so you know in advance.”
I nodded and smiled. For once, I actually wanted to talk to Mr. Becker. I followed his waddling bulk into his office and shut the door behind me. I actually felt slightly nervous about the subject I wanted to broach with him, but my recent encounters with cockroaches had made up my mind.
“What can I do for you today, Miss Douglas?” asked Mr. Becker, settling heavily into his chair.
“I was thinking about the time we spent together recently,” I said. “And how much fun we had. But I know that was a financial burden for you.”
“Yeah, try most of my savings,” said Burt. “I may drive a nice car, but I’m not a rich man. But…I would like to spend more time with you.”
“Oh, me too,” I cooed. “We had so much fun together. But I need to figure out a way that I can stay in business and still spend time with you. And I think I’ve got something figured out.”
“What’s that?” he asked, leaning forward with excitement in his eyes.
“Well, let me ask you a question,” I said. “How many days a month are we booking one of the VIP spa rooms?”
“The $800 a night rooms? Hmmmm, I’d say about ten nights a month. Of course, double that during the Peach Valley Film Festival.”
“Right,” I said. “All the stars want to stay here. But we have four of those spa rooms and on any given night only two or three are going to be booked, even on the weekend. So what I’m thinking is, I am looking for a place to do business.”
“Ahhh,” said Mr. Becker, clearly catching on. “You want to reserve a spa room to see customers.”
“Right, I need stable, safe accommodations, but I want it every night of the month,” I said. “You just let me take the key, off the books. I’ll pay you for ten nights so that part is above board, but you let me have it the other twenty for free. In exchange, I think you and I could spend some time together.”
I leaned towards him, lowering my voice and showing off my ample cleavage as I spoke that last bit. His eyes bugged out as he stared at my soft creamy cleavage.
“R-right,” he said. “Yes. I mean, that’s a lot of value though.”
“Twice a month?” I suggested.
“Twice. Oh, um, y-yes,” he answered quickly. “Yes. But, I want real nights together.”
“What does that mean?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Go out with me,” he said. “To dinner. To a movie. Or just to the room to spend the night.”
Flashback to me in his big bearlike arms. Sleeping against him. At ease.
“Alright,” I said. “I’ll go out with you and spend the night with you twice a month. You let me have one of the VIP spa rooms for my business.”
He held out his hand, “Agreed. It’s a deal.”
“A handshake?” I chuckled, sliding out of my chair and onto my knees. “You’re going to get a little more than a handshake.”
“Ohhhh shit,” he groaned as I crawled between his legs and ran my hands into his lap. I smiled up at him as I unzipped his pants, brushed my hair out of my face, wet my soft lips with my tongue, and sealed our deal.
Thankless
“Are you ready to go to hell?” I asked my dad as I climbed into the backseat of the car.
“Oh, honey, don’t be so negative,” he said. “Kirsten is very proud of her house.”
“I wasn’t talking about her house,” I grumbled bitterly.
“Yeah, you watch that mouth,” warned my mother. “And don’t start any fights with Andy. That was ridiculous last time.”
“Mom! I didn’t—”
“Best behavior,” she snapped, wagging a finger at me in the backseat.
I was an adult, so she didn’t really have the right to criticize me like I was twelve. I should have driven myself. Ten years after marrying my older sister, I still hated Andy Wojczik. He was arrogant, mean, nasty to my poor dad, and he liked to flash his money even though he just ran a stupid HVAC business. It wasn’t like it was some huge company. I bet he was secretly driving my sister into debt. Their house was too nice and he drove a giant expensive pick up truck. But I would never broach the subject, because unlike Andy, I care about other people and their feelings. I knew my mom was right and if I really went for the throat with Andy, it would cause a rift between me and my sister. I loved Kirsten too much to allow that to happen.
Their house was annoyingly perfect. A classic California bungalow that Andy had fixed up so it looked brand new and installed solar
panels on the roof. They even had a tiny green lawn, trimmed very short and no doubt watered heavily to compensate for the unusually dry California November. Kirsten came out to meet us and me and dad helped carry stuff in while mom was given the grand tour.
“Hey, Payton,” said Andy, meeting me and my dad halfway to the kitchen. He took most of the stuff I was carrying, leaving me with just some gift in a bag my mom wanted to give them. I was wearing a loose, heavy sweater and a pair of jeans, but still Andy looked me over. My dad, maybe noticing the way Andy was eyeballing me, cut in.
“Fine house you have, Andy.” My dad labored under a stack of boxes of stuff my mom had picked out.
“Thank you, Mr. Douglas,” said Andy. “I just finished hooking up the battery pack for the solar panels. We run on 75% solar power on a sunny day. I’m hoping to get that to 100% once I can afford to cover the garage.”
“A very noble endeavor,” said my date, setting the boxes down on the kitchen’s marble countertop.
“Yeah, sure, but I’m doing it for the money,” said Andy. “Between the tax credits and the money you save on electricity these puppies will pay for themselves in four years.”
“Really!?” My dad adjusted his glasses. “Tell me more, Andy.”
While Andy was giving my dad the sales pitch on solar, I had a walk around the house. It was much bigger than you’d think judging by the outside. I peeked into Kirsten and Andy’s bedroom and noticed something unusual. I had to slip inside to have a look.
They had sort of hidden it behind a curtain, but one tug on the drapes revealed a leopard-print and leather strap swing beside the bed. A sex swing. Ew, right? My sister and her sleazy husband were fucking in a swing! Way too much information.
I heard footsteps and voices coming. Mom and Kirsten continuing the tour. I ducked behind the curtain and pulled it shut over the sex
swing just as the door opened.
“And here is where the magic happens,” said Kirsten.
“Really? I thought Andy wasn’t ready to start a family,” said my mother, direct as ever.
“He’s getting there,” said Kirsten. “I think when he finishes with the house and things settle down at work, maybe in the summer. He’ll be ready.”
“Uh-huh.” My mother sounded unconvinced. “Well, you can turn that other spare bedroom into a nursery and…”
They continued their conversation out in the hallway. I let out the breath I was holding. I pulled back the curtain to leave and my heart stopped as I saw Andy walking into the bedroom. He not only caught me snooping around in his bedroom, but he knew that I had found their swing. A smirk spread on his face. He scratched at his shaved head.
“Hanging out on the playground, huh?” He stepped closer. I tried to veer around him as I made for the door, but he grabbed my wrist and pulled me back. “Aw, come on. Don’t you want to ride the swing, Payton?”
“Let go of me,” I snapped.
“Not yet,” he snapped, a hard edge in his voice.
He pulled me against him, my breasts crushed against his chest. He looked down into my eyes, one of his hands holding my wrists and the other running from my hip down to my ass. He gave my rear a squeeze. I wanted to scream.
“Get your hands off me, Andy, or I’m going to scream,” I said, glaring into his eyes.
He stared a moment longer, is nostrils flaring, and then he let me go.
“Yeah, you probably would,” he said, smiling. “But don’t think I don’t know about you Payton. Your family thinks you’re just as prim and
proper as Kirsten. But I know better.”
“What the fuck are you talking about, Andy?” I said, starting past him to the door.
“A little birdie at the gym told me allllll about you,” he said.
I stopped and stiffened with fear. My heart was pounding in my chest. I knew I had been playing dangerously in public, particularly with Christian Steel, but I never imagined that Steel would talk to Andy. I didn’t even know that they knew each other.
“Yeah, you get it now,” he said, walking up behind me and pressing his lips close to my ear. “I know everything about your little job you’ve been doing. All of the dirty details.”
I felt like I was going to puke. I could barely breathe.
“Don’t tell Kirsten,” I whispered.
“No, of course not,” he chuckled. “Why would I tell her? No, I want in, Payton.”
“W-what?” I shuddered.
“You’re going to let me be one of your customers.” He squeezed my shoulders with his hands before running them down to my ass and squeezing that as well. He squeezed me repeatedly, spreading my ass, making me feel the soreness of my little hole from all the anal sex I’d been having lately.
“N-not here,” I stammered.
“No, of course not,” he chuckled.
“I have a room at the Chesapeake,” I said.
“I’ll bet you do,” he laughed. “No. You come into my office tomorrow. I’ll put you to work. Mmmmmm. I’ve been wanting to put you to work for years.”
“I’m only nineteen,” I reminded him.
“You grew up early,” he laughed and gave my ass another squeeze. “I saw the potential. You’re an adult now. Those big fat tits.
Goddamn. They put Kirsten’s to shame. But you’re still fresh. I bet your pussy is even tighter than your sister’s.”
“Honey?” Kirsten called and I heard her footsteps approaching. Andy let go of my ass and gave me a push towards the door. I almost bumped into Kirsten. “Oh! There you are, Payton. I was going to send Andy to track you down. Are you alright? You look sick.”
“Just, um, low blood sugar or something,” I said. “I haven’t eaten all day.”
“Saving room for pie, huh?” she laughed. “Well, food is ready. Andy, I need you to cut the turkey.”
“Sure thing, sweetie,” he said, kissing her on the cheek.
Dinner was a nightmare for me. Everyone else seemed to be having fun. Even Andy seemed to be nice to my dad. But I couldn’t stop thinking about his hands on my body, squeezing me, his breath hot on my neck. I stole a glance at him as he was stuffing a forkful of turkey into his mouth. I wanted to throw my drink at him.
“Payton?” My dad nudged me. “Earth to Payton?”
“Oh, um, sorry,” I said. “Just a little out of it today.”
“I said pass the corn pudding,” said my dad.
“Sure thing,” I said, trying to force a smile. I managed it for a little bit, but then Andy caught my eye again and he winked at me.
Yeah, definitely the worst Thanksgiving ever and that was before we played Pictionary. When we did that, I somehow got stuck on Andy’s team and everything Andy drew looked like a cock. I had to keep guessing everything but cock even though all I could think of was cock.
It was hell.
Black Friday
“Going out shopping,” I called out to my mom as I breezed past her.
“Wait!” She shouted from the kitchen. “Are you going to Valley Dew?”
No. I wasn’t going anywhere near Valley Dew Mall. In fact, I was driving to Wojczik HVAC in Splendid about an hour away, where I was probably going to be fucked senseless by my sister’s husband. Of course, I didn’t tell my mom any of that.
“Yeah, that’s one of my stops,” I said. “But I really have to get going —”
“Just hang on a second,” said my mom, holding up a hand for emphasis. “I’ve got some stuff I want you to return for me but I gotta find the receipts.”
She took ages before returning with several garment bags and a short list of shops in the mall where she wanted me to return her outfits. She even wanted me to return a bustier and a garter, panties, and stocking set. I rolled my eyes.
“This is going to take me like two hours just to return your crap,” I said.
“Oh, don’t complain,” said my mom, taking out her bejeweled phone and waving it menacingly at me. “Or I’ll take a picture of you in that short skirt and send it to your father. He’ll blow his top.”
“Daddy doesn’t get mad at me,” I said. “Can you at least get the door for me?”
“Fine,” said my mother and she held open the trunk while I loaded it up with her bags and boxes of clothes. “That skirt really works for you. I like it with the sweater and the little necktie. You’ve got the whole preppy schoolgirl look going. I wish I could pull that off.”
“I’m sure you could,” I lied.
Since getting her breast implants, my mother had become more selfconscious than ever about her age. More than once I had heard her
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This change to a title of nobility reminds me of a couplet in Thackeray’s fine Irish ballad, “Mr Molony’s Account of the Ball”:
There was Lord Crowhurst, I knew him first When only Misther Pips he was.
During his stay in America he learned to like our people greatly, and it was his intention to make us a second visit and to bring his charming American wife along with him; but this purpose of his was never carried out.
H . H
Shortly before leaving our shores, he said to me: “One thing alone would render it impossible for me ever to reside permanently in the United States, and that is the intolerable and brutal insolence of the lower classes.” To this I made answer: “But, Mr. Haden, in America we have no ‘lower classes.’ What you suffered from these people was really your own fault. It is all very well in England for a fine gentleman to bully and denounce the cabman, the railway-porter, and the servants at hotels, but it will not do here, and no American, however eminent, ever does it.”
When Seymour Haden returned to England he took with him the genuine good will of many Americans, and the lasting friendship of not a few.
