His moved his hands behind her waist and pulled the tie on her apron, then lifted the hem of her dress and she raised her arms over her head so he could take it off of her. She started to work on his shirt buttons, wanting to see the heavily muscled chest she could feel under it. He helped her, shrugging out of his shirt once the buttons were undone. She grabbed the hem of his white t-shirt and tugged impatiently at it. He laughed, a slow rumbling that moved his cock against her, and took his shirt off.
His chest was broad and strong, a patch of dark hair swirled over it, narrowing to a peak that disappeared into his jeans. She wanted to see all of him, her fingers slipped down between them and caressed the huge shape of his cock through far too much clothing. He was large, more than large. He stood her up off of his lap and stood himself.
When he was naked in front of her, his cock was more amazing that she’d thought it would be. It stood between them as hard as iron, too thick for her fingers to reach around. Kneeling down was a reflex that she could no more stop than she could stop her heart beating.
He put his hands back in her hair and led her forward until the smooth, fat head of his cock was against her lips. She swirled her tongue around it, tasting the salt of his precum. He pressed against the back of her head and the tip of his cock pushed into her mouth, stretching her lips and sliding along her tongue until it hit the back of her throat and she gagged slightly. She had barely half of his cock in her mouth.
She tried to move her head back, to fuck his cock with her mouth, but he held her still. Instead of moving back, he pushed forward. Her green eyes looked up at him with alarm, but he was relentless. He had to feel those lips around the base of his cock. He knew she could take it, and was determined to show her how far she could go.
She gagged a little and he stopped, waited for her to start breathing through her nose, and for her fingers to tighten on his hips, for her to push a little forward on her own before he pressed deeper.
Her tongue danced against the underside of his cock, sending sparks to his head. Her eyes never left his as he pushed her down on his cock, taking her mouth until he owned it. A rush of primal need pounded against him when he finally felt her mouth around the very base of his cock, her nose pressed into his groin. She was his. His.
He finally dragged her back, his fingers tangled in her hair. When only the head of his cock was in her mouth, he started pushing her down again. Using her mouth like a cunt, enjoying the wet heat of it. She tried to push her mouth faster down, and he felt a thrill at her small show of greed.
He pushed his cock several more times into her throat, felt her nose pressed to his flesh, and then finally let his cock head pop from her lips. He pulled her from her knees and held her against him. She was shaking as she buried her face against his shoulder and wrapped her arms around his waist.
“You’re such a good girl, Vanessa. So good.” He petted the back of her head, his other hand slid down the small of her back to her perfect ass. “You’re my good girl.”
His words made her insides feel tight and hot. Like she’d been waiting her whole life to be this man’s good girl. Her throat was raw and sore, but nothing could take away the pride she felt. She’d taken his cock, all of it. Carl was half his size and she’d never been able to take his cock the way she just took Jackson’s.
Oh god. She was a whore. A common slut. She felt like she was being torn apart from the inside out.
He held her away from him, looked down into her face. “What is it?”
She didn’t mean to tell him, but somehow was compelled to anyway. “Only a whore would do what I just did.”
“I won’t have you talking about yourself that way, Vanessa.”
She shook her head, her body shaking against him. “It’s true.”
She was slipping away from him, and he had to do something to snap her out of it. Instinctively, he knew that a physical release of her anxiety would help. That pain would refocus her attention and break the cycle of destructive thoughts.
He turned her so that her back was to him and walked her to the wall next to the front door. His hands slid down her arms and took her hands, lifted them and pressed them against the wall, held them there for a minute while he bent to kiss the back of her neck.
“You are not a whore, Vanessa. You’re a beautiful, sensual woman who deserves to have her needs met.” She shook her head slowly. “I’m not.”
He brought his hand down with a shocking smack against her ass. She yelped, but didn’t move. She couldn’t have if she wanted to, he had her wrists in one hand and one of his feet hook around hers, keeping her legs spread wide. His big hand stung her sensitive skin, pushing the breath out of her. “You area good girl. I won’t have you thinking otherwise.” His hand came up and down again quickly, sending a sharp pain through her. Her pussy reacted so strongly that for a minute Vanessa thought she might faint. She arched her back, lifting her ass higher.
Jackson watched her react. Saw the sensual woman push past the fear and self-recrimination. She was the most basically, naturally sexual woman he had ever known. Her ass was perfect, round and firm, and now had a pretty pink tint.
He brought his hand down on it again, and heard her moan. He lifted an eyebrow and did it again, and then reached his fingers between her legs, sliding them along her slit and finding the edge of her hole. She was so wet. Drenched, dripping, her hole was so tight, and needy.
She pushed her hips forward, trying to make him push his finger into her. He obliged her, sliding one finger deep. She pushed her forehead against the wall and cried out.
He moved behind her, no longer able to deny himself the feel of that tiny, tight hole around his cock. She opened her legs obediently when he pushed against them, and whimpered when he slid a second finger into her cunt. Finally he pulled them out and put both hands on her hips, his cock found her slick, hot hole like a lost horse finds home.
She cried out, arching and pushing back as he entered her. She stretched around him like a virgin, and he knew that she’d be neglected in more ways than one. He pushed his hips forward, taking her slowly and relentlessly.
Vanessa felt herself fragmenting, dissolving into a million pieces as Jackson took her. How had she lived so long without this? He held her around the waist and pulled her on to him, manipulating her for his pleasure. His long, thick shaft reached parts of her that had never been touched.
She was cumming before she was ready, going off like the fourth of July when she hadn’t nearly had enough. His cock was thick enough to rub against her clit with every deep, slow thrust, and she couldn’t stop the result.
Her cunt closed around him, tightening almost painfully, and he held her while she came. Her head rested back against his shoulder and he moved one hand up to brush her hair back from her cheeks. He pulled out slowly, even though his cock complained bitterly at the idea of leaving its tight spot.
He wanted her in a bed, on her back, her legs over his shoulders. She took his hand, as if reading his mind, and led him down a hallway. Her bedroom was simple. A large bed and a dresser, nothing else. The bed had a white comforter on it and several feather pillows, and a white curtain billowed in from the open window.
She lay on back on the bed, and Jackson felt a gut-deep reaction to taking this woman in her bastard husband’s bed. He kneeled over her and took her face in his hands. “I want you to remember this, Vanessa. Every time he takes you here, I want you to think about me.”
She opened her thighs for him. Lifted her hips in invitation. He pushed her legs up, over his shoulders, so that she was completely open and exposed to him. Her pussy was beautiful. Its perfect smoothness was a testament to the sexual woman that had been smoldering beneath her surface. He could imagine her sitting on the edge of her tub, her fingers teasing and exploring while she slathered her husband’s shaving cream over her beautiful cunt and drew his razor across it.
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He put his hands under her hips and lifted, needing to taste her sweet honey. She would taste sweet, he knew even before his tongue wrapped around her swollen clit. He moved one hand, his finger circling the rim of her asshole as he fucked her with his tongue.
She tightened her hips when he pushed the tip of his finger into her ass, a groan that was half pleasure and half alarm filled the room. He lifted his head and shushed her, his finger not stopping its exploration. When she relaxed, he went back to her cunt.
Vanessa felt suspended in some kind of other world. All she felt was his hands on her, his mouth on her, and his finger doing something that she’d never let her husband do. It dipped more deeply into her asshole and she moaned loudly. He wrapped his mouth around her clit and sucked lightly until she felt her whole body giving over to him.
Finally he pulled away and his body was between her legs, the movement brought her legs up high and he moved his hands up to her ankles, spreading her wide. He looked down at her cunt, watched himself sliding into her. He was so big, so thick, she could hardly breathe as he pushed into her.
He was going to fuck her hard. She knew it like she knew her own name. She reached behind her and grasped the bars of her headboard, lifting her hips in invitation of the inevitable.
Jackson rested her legs against his shoulders and took her wrists in one hand, forcing her to keep her hold on the headboard. The other went to her throat, not hurting her, but holding her so that she was forced to look at him, to watch his face while he fucked her.
“You are mine, Vanessa. Every time he fucks you, I want you to remember that you are mine.”
She nodded silently, her eyes wide and brilliantly green.
He pushed deep, his cock bottoming out and bringing a cry from her lips. He pulled out and pushed in deep again, needing to hear that little cry over and over.
“Say my name. I want to hear you say my name while I fuck you.”
“Jackson.” The word came out like a prayer. “Jackson.”
His cock slipped in and out, his hips pushing against her, her legs wrapped around his shoulders. His. Every thrust claimed her. His.
He tightened his grip around her neck slightly when she tried to turn her head, to look away. “No. Look at me, Vanessa. Look at how good you make me feel.”
He pulled his cock out of her cunt, and her desperate, desolate moan washed over him. He moved his hand from her throat, sliding it between her ass and the mattress and tilting her hips up so that he had access to her tightest hole. All of her would be his.
She knew what he wanted, and was both terrified and exquisitely excited. She wanted him to know that she could please him, could give him everything he wanted. She wasn’t the tight little prude her husband thought she was. She was a fully sexual being, and if he wanted her ass, she could take it.
But he was so big, so hard. She had to work to relax when she felt his fingers rubbing her juices into her puckered little hole. They eased inside, loosening her, and then she felt the thick, smooth head of his cock at the entrance. His fingers went into her cunt, curled against her g-spot as he pushed against her puckered hole hard, then harder.
She screamed when his head opened her, he felt a shudder up his spine when he was finally in her ass. He took her slowly, slowly, savoring every second. Her cunt was dripping wet, her clit a swollen little treasure. He circled it with his thumb, his fingers rubbing against her sponge-y g-spot. He wanted her to squirt for him, coating him with her juices as he fucked her tiny little ass.
He wanted to make sure that she could not separate pleasure from him. That every time she touched herself, or her husband touched her, his face, his hands, his cock were in her mind.
She lifted her hips slightly, her knees were nearly to her shoulders, her hair spread around her in reddish-gold curls. She was like an angel, a beautiful perfect angel. His beautiful perfect angel.
“I want you to say my name when you come. Scream it.” She turned her face so that her cheek was against the mattress and he pushed into her harder, getting her attention. “Look at me, Vanessa.”
She turned back to him. His cock was buried deep in her. His balls were tight against her, and they throbbed, full and heavy. He flicked his fingers over her g-spot, felt it swelling, and rubbed it faster, a little harder. She bucked, her eyes wide but not turning from him.
His name tore from her lips as juices squirted out of her and her hips bucked up. Her body tightened around him, his cock squeezed by her anal muscles.
He didn’t cum. Not yet. But it was a close thing. His balls ached, he could feel his seed hot in his shaft. He pulled out slowly, torturing himself, until he popped out of her asshole with an audible sound. She lay on the bed, limp and used, exhausted. But he still needed her. He needed her to find a reserve of strength, just for him. He needed to take more than she’d ever given before.
He left her there, and she cried out, reaching for him. “I’ll be right back. Don’t move.”
The bathroom was just off the bedroom. He turned on the water and waited for it to warm up. He looked at himself in the mirror, looking to see if being with her had changed him. He saw his own face staring back, the same, but different. She was his. Every inch of him knew it without a doubt. He cleaned his cock carefully, giving himself time to recover from the experience of taking her ass.
When he came back to the bedroom, she was asleep. Her arms were still stretched over her head, her fingers twined in the bars of her headboard. He opened a dresser drawer, then another, until he found what he was looking for. A silk scarf.
He wrapped the soft fabric around her wrists and the bars, and she stirred. She tried to move, but he held her tight where he wanted her until he had her wrists tied tight to the bed.
“Every time he fucks you, I want my name in your head. I want you to wish it was my cock. I want you to need me even more every time he touches you.” He knelt between her thighs again, and she lifted her legs around his waist. “Say it.”
“I’ll think of you every time he fucks me.”
“You’ll scream my name in your head.”
“Yes.”
“I’m going to cum inside of you.”
Her eyes widened. “I’m not on the pill.”
“Good.”
He slid into her wet, sweet cunt. She pushed her hips forward, welcoming him. He took her hard, even though he knew it hurt her to take the whole of his length. She didn’t complain, and whimpered in protest when he did try to use shallower thrusts. He rubbed his thumb over her clit while he fucked her, rubbing the hard little nub until she was moaning and begging like a whore.
“Not yet. Don’t cum yet, baby.”
She gritted her teeth, and raised her hips to meet his thrusts. He watched her struggle to obey. He had never wanted anyone like this before, had never needed a woman the way he needed her. Her breath came in pants, and he knew she was teetering on the edge.
“Please…Jackson, please let me cum.”
“Not yet.” He pushed deep, fucked her, driving her higher. Finally he couldn’t wait any longer. “Now. Cum with me. Cum now, Vanessa.”
Her hips bucked and he arched his back, finally letting himself spill into her. Her cunt tightened and spasmed around him, milking him of his seed and demanding more.
“Mine.” He rubbed a hand over her belly as he collapsed next to her. “Mine.”
Her husband wouldn’t be home for three days. Three days of planting his seed deep inside of her, over and over again, might be enough to ensure that she was his. Jackson had the feeling that it wasn’t going to be enough to make sure he was in her mind when Carl fucked her. The man didn’t deserve her, and Jackson couldn’t stomach the idea of his hands on her.
She curled against him, her body a soft, warm weight. His.
The End
Pleasuring The Stress Away
“Are you feeling stressed?”
“Yes,” I muttered to the screen.
“Is life getting on top of you?”
“Yes again,” I sighed.
“Well I can help you – with a spiritually uplifting Aromatherapy massage.”
“Why not?” I asked myself, looking at the screen again before reading on.
“Provided by a fully qualified Masseuse ….”
“Just what I need,” I told myself
“… who is a Naturist …”
“Oh!”
“… so please don’t call if nudity offends you!”
I laughed quietly to myself. Yes, I was stressed, and it felt like just about everything was on top of me, so why not? It was probably an overweight man who did it anyway, I told myself as I jotted down the number, but to be honest I didn’t care. I would have my eyes closed and as long as I felt less stressed afterwards, then I’d be happy.
I phoned between meetings the next day. To my surprise a lady answered, a very nice sounding lady. To my even greater surprise I was ringing the doorbell at the address across town that she’d given me just a couple of hours later. Although I knew that the masseuse was at least a lady, I was still convinced that I’d be better off keeping my eyes closed. So when the door was flung open moments after I’d leant on the bell button, I think my mouth might have hung open.
“Simon?” she asked in a delightful sing-song voice as she swung the door back.
“Yes,” I told her, my mouth suddenly dry.
“Come in … come in.”
I followed Jessie - the name she’d given me on the phone - through a small hallway, and straight into what was obviously her lounge. I started to glance around, but I couldn’t drag my eyes away from her. She was short and petite, her blonde hair hanging just to her shoulders. Her face was pretty, untouched by lines and make up, her eyes bright and impish, her nose sprinkled with freckles, her mouth generous.
I guessed that she was around 40, but looked younger. She was dressed in a short, tight white overall that was zipped up the front, and that clung to every tight curve of her pert body. It ended just below the swell of her ass, and it was more than obvious that she was naked underneath it. The zip was already undone to between her breasts, drawing attention to her dark nipples that showed clearly through the thin material.
I watched the sway of her ass as she disappeared towards what must have been her kitchen.
“Get your clothes off then” she called over her shoulder, before returning a few seconds later with two glasses of water.
I started to get undressed as she smoothed out the towel that was spread over the massage table set up in the centre of the room. I looked around to see if there was anywhere to get undressed, but all I found was a typical lounge, in a typical house, with some open plan stairs over in the corner. I mentally shrugged, and started to undress, surprising myself by being not at all self conscious in front of this undeniably sexy looking, soon to be naked, lady.
I could feel the tension draining from my body as I kicked my shoes off, before bending over to drag my socks off. I stood up and started to undo my shirt. Across the room, I watched as Jessie bent over to put some soothing music on, her overall impossibly tight across her ass. As I watched, it suddenly loosened as she drew the zip down as she stood back up. Without saying a word, she turned towards me, shrugging her overall off her shoulders, her breasts pushing forward. A second later she was naked.
I prayed silently for my cock to behave as I quickly finished undressing, my eyes following her as she moved around the room. She was tanned all over, her skin a soft brown colour. Her breasts swayed gently, her nipples perched at the tip of her upswept curves. Her belly was flat, her waist nipped in above the swell of her hips, her ass firm. I caught a glimpse of the smudge of hair at the base of her belly, but that was all as she drew my attention back by tapping on the massage table, a small smile on her face.
On her instruction, I clambered onto the table and lay face down, wriggling quickly to get my cock comfortable beneath me. She pointed out a hole for my face.
“Some people use it, some don’t,” she told me softly.
I rested my head on my arms, turning to one side, conscious of her beside me. I heard the squelch of oil on her hands, and then sighed as she reached for my shoulders before her hands moved slowly and carefully down my back.
It felt as if every muscle in my back and shoulders relaxed at the same time as her hands glided easily over my skin. Ten minutes later, it felt as though almost all of the stress and strains of the last weeks and months had disappeared – and that Jessie knew my life story! As she worked from one side of me and then the other, she talked quietly, and I found myself telling about my job and its problems, about how my fifteen year marriage had disintegrated into a bitter divorce, about just about everything.
As her hands moved over me, I was aware of her behind me, and longed to turn, to catch glimpses of her as she moved around. I heard the squelch of more oil onto her hands, and felt her running her hands up the back of one leg and then the other, her hands pressing powerfully into the muscles built from mile after mile of cycling. She moved to one side, her hands slipping down to the inside of my thigh, her fingertips catching my cock. At first I jumped, thinking it was a mistake, but the second time it happened a glow went through me.
Her hands ran smoothly along my legs, and then up onto my ass to my back. She did it again, talking to me about this and that, about how she gave training as a masseur at a local college. This time her hands concentrated on my ass, the outside of my cheeks first, and then closer to the centre, her fingers gliding along the cleft between them, teasing, probing, before sweeping up my back and then down again.
I was so relaxed that I didn’t notice at first that she had stopped, until she appeared in front of me, her naked body just inches from my face. As I looked, I realised that the soft hair I seen earlier was trimmed into a neat strip above her pussy, a strip that drew my eyes downwards. Jessie dropped to her knees by the corner of the table, and reached for my arm. I watched her closely for the first time, and saw the concentration on her face as she held my hand to keep my arm straight as her other hand slid slowly over my skin, but my eyes soon dropped lower, taking furtive looks at her breasts, at her dark, erect nipples.
I almost jumped as she took my hand in both of hers, holding me close to her as she massaged the tension away from my fingers. As she moved my hand, my fingers caught her breasts, touching her warm skin gently, sending another jolt to my cock. She moved across in front of me, giving me a perfect view of her perfect ass as she got into position to deal with my other arm. I watched, seeing how absorbed she was in her work, how totally relaxed she was with her own nakedness.
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As she worked on my hands, my fingers still catching her breasts from time to time, she told me about a student from college who was staying with her for a few days, and who was training to be a beautician.
“She wants to do massage as well,” she told me lightly, “But struggles to get people to practice on. I’ve got a little more to do on your back … would you mind if Emma helped me?”
She asked so naturally, and I was so relaxed, that I just nodded in agreement.
“Emma,” Jessie called upstairs.
I watched as Jessie moved to my side again, expecting her to slip back into her overall before Emma came down. Even though it hid so little, I assumed that was what she would do. To my surprise, she stayed naked – and when I twisted my head to see Emma coming downstairs in just a dressing gown, I could see why. With no hesitation, Emma dropped her robe on the floor and moved to stand opposite Jessie.
In those fleeting seconds, I could see that she was twenty, maybe twenty one, her long blonde hair tied back in a ponytail, and a tanned body that showed a remarkable likeness to Jessie’s. Her breasts were a little larger and her hips and ass a little rounder, but the likeness was so startling I wondered if they were related in some way.
For the next ten minutes, these two beautiful, naked ladies moved around me, their four hands moving over my naked back and shoulders and legs, Jessie speaking softly to Emma, giving her instructions and guidance. I couldn’t help but stare as Emma moved to stand at my head, her soft belly with her pierced navel just inches away as she rolled my shoulders. At my feet, I felt Jessie’s hands moving up my legs, her fingers catching my cock again out of view of Emma before sliding between my cheeks.
“We’ll do Simon’s hands and arms again and then I’ll finish off,” I heard Jessie telling Emma.
Moments later, they were both knelt at the end of the table, a hand in each of theirs, my fingers catching their breasts. Emma glanced up as I looked at her, catching me staring at her breasts. I started to look away, but she smiled, pulled me closer, my finger tips scraping across her tight nipple. She massaged my fingers gently, her hand moving up and down them one at a time as if they were miniature cocks. As I watched she moved position again, as if to get comfortable, her legs easing apart to give me a teasing glimpse of her pussy.
As Emma moved, I was aware of Jessie changing position as well. As she moved, my arm dropped lower, her hand tight around my wrist as her other hand moved up my arm. My fingers hung loose, catching her belly. She moved again – and my fingers brushed against the soft hair above her pussy. I glanced at her, expecting some reaction, but her face was still a picture of concentration.
“I think that’s enough now,” she said.
Even though I was looking at her, I jumped as she spoke, wondering if she’d seen Emma’s slight movement. I watched Emma slip back into her gown and smile a “Thanks” at me before heading back upstairs.
“I’ll just finish off your back, and then I’ll start on the front,” Jessie told me.
She moved to stand towards the end of the table, her hands sweeping up from the backs of my legs, over my ass and up to my shoulders. As she stretched, I felt sure that her breasts were touching me, sliding across me, softly at first, but then more distinctly. Each time her hands swept over my ass and up my back, her breasts joined them, slipping lightly, easily, over my skin. She moved to my other side and did the same, my struggles to control my cock getting harder as I felt her nipples gliding across me.
A few moments later she stopped, and asked me to sit up. She passed me the glass of water she’d brought in earlier, and told me to have a good drink before she did my front. I did as I was told, aware of her stood close to me with her own drink, her breasts and belly glossy with oil. She adjusted the massage table and then took my glass back. I lay back, happy to be slightly sat up so that I could watch her as she moved around.
She started at my feet, her hands moving up one leg and then the other, carefully avoiding my cock, concentrating on my thighs. She moved to my side, and did my legs again, this time pushing downwards before moving to my shoulder and leaning over to run her hands over my chest and stomach. As she leant over me, I stared at her breasts as they swayed forwards, inches from me, so close that it felt like I could easily reach out and draw her nipple into my mouth.
As if reading my mind, she paused, her breast hovering closer than ever before she stood up and moved to my other shoulder. This time her breast brushed against my cheek as she leant forward, her hands moving down across my chest and belly, and then onto my legs
After a few minutes, the entire front of my body and legs, apart from my cock, glistened with oil. Jessie moved back to my feet and I watched as she stretched upwards, her hands moving along the length of my legs, her breasts hanging low, almost touching me. Past them, I could see her narrow waist, and the flare of her hips, a hint of her pussy nestling between her thighs.
I heard the squelch of more oil. At first I thought I’d imagined it as her hand slipped almost casually along the length of my cock, before sliding across my belly. But moments later I knew that I wasn’t as she did it again, once and then twice, and then again. With my cock hardening rapidly, Jessie stroked slowly along my shaft one more time before leaving my cock lying on my belly. Her hands returned to my thighs, rubbing and kneading, before one moved to my balls, cradling them, a finger reaching to rub against my ass.
I tried to stifle my moan as she moved to my side, one hand reaching for my cock again, stroking and squeezing, her other hand rubbing across my chest. She put me back down, moving again, this time to be closer to my shoulder so that she could reach over me, her hands sliding across my belly, over my cock to my thighs. She was close, so close that it took all my will power to stop myself from reaching out, from running my hands over her ass, or up onto her breasts, even down towards her pussy.
As these thoughts and emotions crashed through my mind, her hand slid along my cock again while it was still lying on my belly, harder than ever. Her hand moved slowly, teasingly, my cock throbbing. She lifted me away from my body as she stood beside me, her hand moving slowly up and down my shaft, peeling my skin back, her thumb rubbing the pre cum that was leaking from me.
She moved slightly, leaning over, one hand stroking my cock slowly, the other moving across my chest. She moved along the table a little, my cock jerking in her hand as I felt her soft hair brush against my fingers. I looked up at her face again, but it was a picture of concentration still, her eyes following her hand across my chest. She placed my cock gently on my belly, and moved to the other side of the table. This time she pressed her mound lightly against my fingers, teasing as she reached for my cock again.
I reached out, unable to stop myself. She was stood by my waist, half turned, as if she was waiting, ready, for me to reach out and touch her, my hand settling easily onto the small of her back. I groaned, my body tensing, as one hand held the base of my cock, the other moving faster and faster along my shaft, becoming a blur as my hand slid slowly over the curves of her ass. She pushed back against my hand, a slight but definite movement, an intimate movement. My ass lifted off the table, my thighs and belly taut as her hands moved me towards the inevitable, as my cum erupted upwards.
I cried out as I came, my cum splattering onto my belly, more running down my cock and over her hand. All the time she stroked me, still pushing back against my hand as I caressed her. With a gasp, she stepped away, her face slightly flushed, but then suddenly business like again. As she turned to grab some wipes, I saw how dark, how hard, her nipples were, and longed to pull her to me. I reached out and touched her ass again, caressing her softly as she cleaned up my cum, wiping me carefully, laughingly apologising for how cold the wipes were.
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After that, she returned to my massage, easing me down from my high, leaving me relaxed and stress free, just as she’d promised. When she’d finished, I sat up and took the glass of water she held out to me, sipping it gratefully as she stood next to me, still naked. I was more than aware of her as she took my glass and then moved to stand in front of me, a towel in her hand. She used it to gently wipe away the excess oil from anywhere she could reach, asking me to stand up so that she could do my back and ass.
With a smile, she handed me a clean towel and said that if I needed a shower, it was upstairs on the right. I took it gratefully and made my way to the stairs, brushing past her as I went, my body tingling at the feel of her warmth against me. As I climbed the stairs, I glanced back and saw that Jessie was slipping back into her overall. I smiled ruefully, already looking forward to seeing her again.
I found the bathroom, and quickly switched the shower on. It was a large walk-in shower, with two jets that I was soon stood under, letting the warm water cascade over me. I closed my eyes and turned my face to the water, thinking how good I felt, how good the massage had been, how relaxed I was. I smiled to myself, my cock stirring again as thought about how close Jessie had been, how beautiful and sexy she was, about the “climatic” ending. I was so lost in thought, I didn’t realise that I wasn’t alone any more until she spoke – and her hand curled around my cock.
“I wish Jessie would let join in the fun at the end as well,” Emma whispered as she stroked my cock slowly, her full, rounded breasts pressed to my back.
I gasped, and started to turn, but Emma pressed herself harder against me, stopping me, one hand on my hip, the other sliding slowly along my shaft. I reached out, my hands against the shower wall as she leant against me, her hard nipples pressing into my back. She moved up and down, rubbing her body against mine, our slippery skins making it easy as her breasts and nipples moved around my back, as her belly rubbed against my ass. I gasped again as she moved to wrap one leg around mine, twisting me towards her as she ground her pussy against my thigh.
Without really thinking of anything but how hard I was, I twisted towards her, pulling her to me and kissing her, our mouths locked together, our tongues searching, exploring, as our hands discovered each others bodies. Her hand never left my cock as I caressed her ass and back, as I pushed against her desperately, as her breasts moulded themselves to my chest.
“Fuck me,” she moaned when we eventually broke our kiss, gasping for breath.
She stepped away from the shower, rivulets of water pouring down her body, between her breasts. She reached up and swept her long hair back, thrusting her breasts, her pebble like nipples, forward as more water ran down her.
I groaned, a lust filled groan from deep within my body, as I stared at the gorgeous, naked young woman in front of me. I reached for her, but she skipped away with a gentle laugh. She turned and leant over the bath, her hands on the edge, her ass wiggling at me.
“I said ‘Fuck me’” she said over her shoulder, the lust in her eyes mirroring mine.
I stepped towards her, my cock rigid in front of me, and grabbed her hips. She moved her feet further apart as I held her, her pink rosebud winking back at me, teasingly, invitingly. I slid my cock along the deep cleft between her cheeks, our wet bodies making it easy. She pushed back, moaning, wanting, needing, more. I stepped away from her, catching my first glimpse of her wet pussy, her lips flushed with desire.
As I eased my cock between her thighs, I felt her heavy wetness hot against me. She slid her hand down, pulling me towards her, guiding me into her wanton body. I pushed forwards, driving my cock into her as she grabbed the edge of the bath again, her knuckles white. I held my cock deep inside her, her pussy tight around me. I fucked her slowly, almost slipping out of her before sliding back until her firm ass was pressed against my belly.
She moaned softly, gasping that she wanted more. I fucked her harder then, harder and faster and deeper, reaching around her to fill my hands with her wildly swaying breasts. She rested her head on one arm, sliding her other hand down between her breasts to rub at her clit, her fingertips catching my cock. The room was heavy with the smell and wet sounds of sex, with the moans and groans that we tried our best to stifle. My balls were hard as I felt Emma’s pussy tightening around me, our climaxes building.
“Emma!!”
I spun around, my cock slipping from Emma, to find Jessie in the doorway, hands on hips, her face flushed with anger. For a moment I couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, my cock sagging back over my balls. But Jessie didn’t move either. Nor did she speak again. But the anger in her eyes changed as she looked at me, as she looked past me to where Emma was still bent over, her breasts swaying, her pussy glistening between her soft thighs. I watched as her breathing deepened, became harsher, as her nipples strained against the thin material of her overall, as the need she’d hidden behind the mask of concentration surged to the surface.
Emma was watching as well now.
“I said ‘Fuck me’” she said again.
I glanced down at my cock, my mind in a whirl. I heard a ripping sound and looked back up to see Jessie pulling her overall off, the thin material tearing in her haste. Her face was flushed as she stepped towards me, her hand reaching out for my cock as her breasts were crushed between us, our mouths clashing, our tongues thrusting.
Emma moaned as she watched us, my ass against hers as she stayed bent over, as Jessie pressed against me, my hands swarming over her body, over her back and ass, over any part of her I could reach. She broke our kiss and dropped to her knees, sucking my cock deep into her mouth. Her tongue swirled around the tip as her lips moved along my shaft, one hand reaching for my balls. I twisted slightly as she tried to reach past me, her other hand searching for Emma’s ass.
My cock was hard and throbbing as I thrust into Jessie’s mouth, my hands reaching for her head. After several thrusts, she jerked backwards, my cock escaping from her mouth.
“Fuck her,” she gasped, “Fuck Emma.”
I spun around and drove my cock back into Emma’s waiting pussy. She was still hot and wet, as it was probably only a few minutes since Jessie had gasped out her name. I fucked Emma relentlessly, my hands on her breasts, pinching and pulling her nipples, Jessie’s hands on her ass and clit.
Emma screamed as she came, her body on fire, every nerve ending tingling as pleasure ran through her, as I fucked her through it, as I came, a torrent of cum filling her.
Beside us, Jessie had staggered back, her eyes bright with need as she sat on the edge of the bath, her fingers reaching for her pussy, desperate for her own release. Emma twisted, my cock sliding from her as she dropped to her knees. Jessie’s eyes opened wide as she realised what Emma was going to do, but then pulled her fingers away as Emma sank her tongue into her waiting pussy.
Jessie groaned and leant back, her hands reaching for the far side of the bath, her breasts thrust upwards. I caught a glimpse of Emma’s tongue sliding into Jessie’s hot body, of her finger slipping inside her, of another finger on her clit. I leant over and flicked my tongue across Jessie’s swollen nipples, making her cry out as I sucked and kissed them, as I took her taut flesh into my mouth.
As she came, she pulled me to her with one arm. I steadied us as we kissed wildly, our tongues clashing, her body trembling, her cries muffled by our kiss as her climax sent waves of pleasure coursing through her. We clung together after that, our bodies slowly calming down.
“The showers still running ….”
I can’t remember who said it, but for the next ten minutes we were all under the warm water together, our bodies slippery as we soaped every part of each other, caressing, exploring. I watched as Emma and Jessie washed each other, Emma the more certain at first, with Jessie soon enjoying taking and giving as much as her. And then they washed me, their hands roaming all over my body.
Emma reached around from behind me, just as she had earlier, her hard nipples pressing into my back as she stroked my cock. The difference this time was that Jessie was in front of me, my hands moving easily over her pert breasts, down over her flat belly, down to her hot pussy. She gasped as I slipped a finger inside her, feeling her heat, her need. Her hands went to her own breasts as I kissed her, my cock hard between us as Emma held me.
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Jessie hooked a leg over my hip, and I slipped into her easily, Emma beside us, touching, caressing. Jessie’s pussy was tight around me, my cock stretching her as we fucked, gently at first, but then harder, our bodies moving slickly against each other until our release came.
After drying each other off, Emma led us through to what I guessed was Jessie’s bedroom, with its big double bed. I watched as she crawled up the bed, her pussy and ass on show, before lying down. We joined her quickly, Emma and Jessie on each side of me. I put an arm around each of them, pulling them to me contentedly, still not quite believing what was happening.
We talked for a while about nothing in particular, their hands resting on my body, caressing gently. The talking gradually stopped as we began to kiss, as Emma reached for my cock, Jessie soon joining her. I pulled Jessie to me and enjoyed a long, lingering kiss, our tongues moving erotically against each other while I reached for her ass. Emma twisted my head towards her, pressing her breasts to me as we kissed, her tongue thrusting. As soon as she broke the kiss, she looked at Jessie for just a second before they were leaning over me to share a wanton kiss that left my cock rock hard from just watching.
I kissed Jessie again, her hand caressing my cock, her nipples hard against me. As we kissed, Emma turned around on the bed, her mouth sinking down onto my cock while Jessie held me. I reached out to Emma, caressing her ass, my hand slipping between her thighs to find her pussy. Jessie moved as well, kneeling between my legs to take my cock from Emma, both their mouths on me, licking, sucking, my cock and balls on fire with need.
While Emma sucked me slowly, stopping only to run her tongue wetly along my thick shaft, Jessie moved away for a moment. I caught a glimpse of her past Emma picking up a small tube. When she came back, she squirted some gel onto her finger. I moaned as the cold gel was rubbed gently around my ass, and then again as Jessie slid her finger into me.
My fingers slipped from inside Emma as she moved to straddle my body. I reached up and pulled her to me, her pussy sinking down gratefully towards my mouth as I held her, my fingers searching out her puckered rosebud, already lubricated by her own juices.
As they shared my cock, sucking, licking, kissing, Jessie had her finger deep inside me, caressing me, just as I had a finger inside Emma’s ass and my tongue deep inside her pussy, her juices on my face. I clamped my mouth over Emma’s clit, sucking, my tongue flicking. Her deep groans were muffled by my cock, only becoming louder as I was pulled from her mouth only to have Jessie’s lips surround me a split second later.
My groans were muffled by Emma’s pussy as she pressed down against my mouth, my tongue, her juices flooding from her as she came, her cries echoing around us. As Jessie sucked me, her hand moving along my shaft, she pushed her finger deeper into my ass, sending me over the edge, my cum erupting into her mouth. She sucked hard, taking my first spurts of cum before feeding me to Emma for her share. They both licked and sucked until I was drained, and then kissed, sharing my cum and their desire.
As Emma rolled away from me, I pulled Jessie to me, holding her tight and kissing her hard, the taste of my cum on her lips. She pressed herself to me, rubbing her pussy against the hard muscles of my thigh. I pushed her onto her back and scrambled down the bed to kneel between her outstretched legs. With a groan that was soon muffled by Emma’s kiss, she grabbed her legs behind her knees and pulled them back, exposing her pussy, her ass, exposing everything, to me.
I stared for a moment, seeing her pussy, with the strip of soft hair, properly for the first time. Her clit was peeping out above her flushed lips, her juices glistening as they ran towards her ass, all of her begging for attention. She moaned again as Emma’s hands found her breasts, pinching her swollen nipples, tugging gently at them. I dipped my head and tasted her for the first time, licking slowly along her sweet pussy before sucking on her clit.
I licked slowly downwards, teasing her puckered hole, before moving back up her writhing body. With an even more urgent groan, Jessie grabbed my hair and pushed her hips up, grinding herself against me. I pumped my tongue into her pussy, reaching under her to rub her rosebud gently. I sucked and licked while Emma nipped and tugged her nipples, sending waves of pleasure through Jessie’s hot body as her climax washed over her.
Eventually she relaxed, sagging back onto the bed, her body slick from her pleasure. I crawled up beside her as she laid between us, our hands all over each other as the three of us shared kisses. Later, Jessie went to fetch a bottle of wine that we drank in bed, naked, sharing touches and kisses, all of us wanting more. When the wine was finished, their hands and mouths found my cock, just as mine found them.
With my cock, slick from their attentions, jutting out hard in front of me, I rose up onto my knees, urging them both to lie down. They did, side by side. Jessie draped a leg over one of Emma’s, bringing them, bringing their pussies, even closer together. I knelt between Jessie’s legs and rubbed her clit gently, slipping my cock inside her, her eyes locked on mine. I pushed deep inside her, but then eased back until just the tip was inside her. I fucked her slowly until Emma demanded her turn.
I moved between Emma’s legs, moaning as she grabbed my cock and pulled me to her. I eased my cock, still covered with Jessie’s juices, into her, reaching over to Jessie at the same time, my fingers joining her own on her pussy. Her other hand reached over to Emma, to her clit. I fucked Emma just as slowly, before Jessie demanded more. Emma thrust her fingers into her pussy, moaning loudly as Jessie pulled me towards her. Minutes later I was shuffling back to Emma, my cock dripping with their juices.
This time I fucked Emma hard, the teasing over. I watched her breasts bouncing as I drove into her, Jessie’s fingers rubbing her clit. Emma reached out above her and grabbed the end of the bed, her back arching, her body on fire. Jessie rolled towards her, rubbing herself against the other woman, her fingers never leaving her clit. She sucked hard on her nipple, capturing the rubbery flesh between her teeth.
A flush rose up Emma’s chest as she came, the pleasure from her pussy, her nipples, her breasts, radiating out to send her wild as her orgasm rushed through her body. I slipped my hands under her ass, pulling her to me, my hard cock buried inside her, her pussy throbbing around me as I held her. Jessie kissed her softly, her hands roaming over Emma’s body, sharing her pleasure.
“Now Jessie,” Emma eventually gasped, “Fuck her …..”
I eased my still hard cock from Emma, leaning over and kissing her pussy before shuffling back to Jessie. I pushed her legs back, my eyes on hers again as I exposed everything. Before I could move, Emma grabbed my cock and rubbed the tip across Jessie’s pussy, making her cry out. I plunged into her wanton pussy, her hands reaching out to grab me. I held still for a moment, watching her, before I eased out a fraction and then drove back into her, making her pert breasts sway delightfully. I held still again, for just a moment, before driving into her again and again until she screamed “stop”.
I stopped, wondering what was going on, my balls ready to burst. But I needn’t have worried as Jessie scrambled onto all fours, her ass in the air. I grabbed her hips and pumped my cock into her, reaching for her swaying breasts only to find that Emma had beaten me to it. Jessie pushed back against my cock, crying out as I drove wildly into her, my balls slapping against her.
I wasn’t surprised when she cried “stop” again, nor when she pushed me onto my back. She straddled me, dropping down onto my cock and grinding her pussy against me, taking me deeper inside her than I thought possible. She leant back, her arms behind her, her breasts thrust up for Emma’s attention.
We fucked wildly, crying out, until she slumped forward on top of me, her breasts squashed between us. I grabbed her firm ass, holding her tight as I powered my cock into her, my cries matching hers as we came, as we kissed frantically through our orgasms, our bodies hot with desire. Beside us, Emma pumped her fingers into her pussy, as excited as us at what she’d seen, at what we’d all done.
Afterwards, we lay gasping on the bed for a long time, happy to hold each other.
They both kissed me before I had to leave, a grin on my face.
“Remember,” Jessie murmured, “If ever you’re feeling stressed …”
“… I’ll be back!” I laughed.
And I will – soon.
The End
Silver Slugger
The mountain peaks were turning red as dawn approached. Rocky Jones let his attention drift as the first batter of the 28th inning stepped into the box, gazing at the ribbon high above the stadium. “We’ve been playing all fucking night,” he said to himself, then focused on the action, thumping his glove as the pitch came in.
Rocky had gotten in midday before. It was a strange route from the middle of Alabama to the southern Rockies, taking 15 hours via planes and buses due to a severe weather system in the country’s midsection, but he’d gotten a nap in the afternoon and felt somewhat human by the gametime at 7:00.
A crack of the bat, and Rocky sprinted to the left field corner. The frozen rope sailed past him and skipped once on the grass before gunshot meeting with the outfield wall sent it spinning back his direction. Rocky managed to corral it and get it back to the infield in time to hold the hitter to a double. He looked vaguely familiar, maybe he was in Rocky’s Class A ball league last year. Four years in pro ball meant a lot of faces to remember. “Good thing I’m not a pitcher or catcher,” Rocky said to himself, “cause my memory’s shit for anybody I haven’t hit.”
The late May was starting to get hot in the Southern League cities, worse than the Texas league Rocky played in the year before. Rocky hated the heat and dust, but heat and heavy humidity were worse for a kid from northern Minnesota. The first two years of minor league baseball were a lark, like getting paid to play High School ball, but last year in High A ball the expectations were higher, and he barely fought his way to AA ball at the end of Spring Training.
The next batter managed to strike out trying to sacrifice, but the next two hitters walked, filling the bases. The pitching coach came out to talk to the pitcher; the bullpen was silent since he was the last pitcher on the roster who’d been used that night. Rocky had pitched in high school, but the one time he tried it in the pros was an embarrassment, so he figured he’d keep his mouth shut about it. Let somebody else volunteer to pitch if this goes on much longer. This game had been a long struggle with lots of runs, but his team managed to match every rally the visitors over 28 innings and so they were playing into the dawn’s early light.
A left handed hitter strode to the batter’s box: the stocky designated hitter with huge arms who had five hits and two walks so far that night. Rocky remembered him from the year before as his league’s leader in home runs and RBIs. The coaches moved him several feet to his left and kept him at medium depth, moving the other outfielders back and the infield in. “What the hell is Mutt thinking?” he said aloud. Mutt DeMedici was infamous for strange strategies that kept his four Major League clubs solidly under .500 and his minor league clubs muddling through their seasons. Rocky bent over slightly and focused: a tall, lean man with sandy hair and blue eyes whose body became a coiled spring ready for the ball to come his way.
A ball outside, and Rocky looked up at the owners box. A faint light shone within. M. C. McMillian was a maverick owner, creative and appreciated by the community, one of the senior owners of the Pacific Coast League, but blocked several times from owning major league teams. No-one seemed to know what he looked like, his picture never made the papers or the Internet and no one knew what he did for a living; rumor said he inherited his fortune, which is increased through shrewd investment. The players loved him; his new teammates told him at length how the owner treated them like kings. The clubhouse and trainer’s room showed it. Several veterans who’d been to the Show said they’d seen worse in their Big League careers.
A long drive into the seats just foul down the right field line and a pitch outside. It was just two days ago Rocky was hitting third for a winning team after working his way into the lineup and up the batting order. Mutt was frank with him when he arrived: “Kid, you’re here for about ten days to fill in for a guy who’s having a cup of coffee in the Show. When Tom gets back, you go back Alabama and see if you can keep your incredi-fucking nasty hitting streak alive. You’ll be doing caddy work here: a couple of late innings in the outfield here and there and maybe a pinch hitting or pinch running appearance or two. If somehow you catch fire here, we’ll reconsider, but for now you should just find a place to crash for a few days ‘stead of renting an apartment. Coach Harnkess knows a couple of guys on the club needing a temporary roommate. Get your gear stowed and take a nap. We’ll need you in uniform tonight, but don’t count on getting in the game unless there’s extra innings.”
A foul straight back and another ball. Full count with one out, and the shortstop turned around to remind him. The red ribbon on the peaks grew and brightened. Rocky was first up in the bottom of the inning, but he’d been a pro long enough to know he couldn’t think about that yet. He entered the game in the 11th inning as a pinch runner, but his speed was useless as the trail runner and he was stranded in his only scoring opportunity. The pitchers in AAA ball were throwing BBs, his feeble swings brought weak foul balls, and the futility bothered him between innings.
Another loud foul down the right field line and another foul straight back. If this guy connected in fair territory, the game would be over this inning.
Rocky thought about his girl back in Minnesota, Connie Larsen, spending the summer with her family in Albert Lea. Blond, blue eyed, and a Scandinavian body that made him erect just thinking of it. Phone calls were a lousy way to maintain a relationship, and lately she was rather distant when he managed to get hold of her. Her father gave him rotten looks every time he appeared at their door. He’d refused several offers to go hunting with the old man in the cold and snow, worrying since he frequently referred to Dick Cheney. . .
A huge swing and the ball sailed like a wounded quail down the left field line toward no man’s land just behind third base. Rocky reacted instantly, gauging the flight of the ball as he sprinted across the turf. It seemed futile at first, he was sure it would fall in, scoring at least two runs. He willed himself faster and tried to kick in another gear.
The quail hung in the deep blue sky, not wanting to touch down. The altitude was affecting it; Rocky never played at altitude before. Hope arose in his chest, but the ball had to come down sometime soon. The third baseman and shortstop were racing out, but with the infield drawn in they were farther away from the ball than Rocky and had bad angles to reach it.
The quail slowly dipped toward the earth. Rocky reached out his gloved left hand, straining as far as he could. Distantly, he heard the few remaining fans roaring, diehard baseball fans willing to sit up all night just to say they’d been there as a badge of honor. His feet were barely touching the ground, the wind singing in his ears, his arm stretching farther and farther as he tried to catch up with the ball.
The quail was coming to earth. Rocky didn’t think; he left his feet to lunge at the falling projectile. Years and years of practice took over, guiding his actions, preparing for impact.
The ball settled in his glove just before his arm hit the ground, and by a miracle stayed there. His body skidded across the green turf for an eternity.
Rocky rolled to pop to his feet, looking down the third base line ahead of him: the runner had tagged and was heading home. His arm reached back and sent a cannon shot home.
At first, the throw seemed to be offline to the right, but it tailed back to land in the catcher’s glove at waist level on one hop. One second later the runner arrived, but the squat Sumo guarding the plate hung onto the ball through the collision and the inning ended with an unlikely double play.
Rocky trotted into the dugout, accepting his teammates gratitude, and switched gears to take his at bat. “Hey, you probably made SportsCenter,” Coach Harkness enthused, and Manager DeMedici gave a rare smirk.
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“You’re up, Rocky,” the old man said, his face returning to its usual wrinkled mask. “Get on base.”
The sky was growing more and more normal crystalline blue as daylight approached, the red on the mountaintops gave way to yellow and the horizon sported a red streak. A few stars valiantly competed against the growing light, but only the brightest were succeeding. No breeze, and the birds were just starting to call the sun over the horizon.
“Hey, is this the longest game ever?” Rocky asked as he took his place in the batter’s box.
The opposing catcher remained silent, but the umpire said: “No kid. Longest game was Rochester at Pawtucket, 33 innings. But they played it over 2 days. C’mon, let’s go. Play ball.”
The pitcher looked in for a sign, nodded and prepared to deliver. Rocky crouched in the right handed batter’s box, focused on his adversary, trying to forget the previous two at bats against this guy were three pitch strikeouts.
The windup and the pitch sent a ball with a dot inward. A breaking pitch that wasn’t breaking, a batter’s dream. Rocky almost gasped as it grew from a BB to a beach ball, and struggled to hold his composure waiting for the hanging curve to reach him.
Instinct took over again. Rocky didn’t think; his hands drew back slightly, then propelled his bat through the strike zone, sending the orb deep to left center field with a rifle sharp crack. He didn’t think it would make the seats, so he sprinted to first as fast as he could, turning to see its flight when he rounded the bag as his heart pounded.
The speed was unnecessary: the second base umpire was making a circle with his hand, ending the game with a home run call. Rocky slowed to a trot and floated around the bases as the other team trudged off the field, meeting his new teammates at home plate to dance in group celebration.
The celebration was muted. A long night’s work had taken a lot out of everyone, and there was another game that night, in twelve hours. There was backslapping and glee in the shower room, but all were ready to go home. After Rocky changed, Mutt DeMedici approached him with a smile on his face.
“Nicely done, kid, nicely done. Highlight of your fucking life so far, I bet.”
“Yes, sir.”
“You don’t have to call me sir, kid, just call me Mutt like everybody else.”
“Yes, Mutt.”
“Well, you got another piece of Christmas coming. Just got the call: you’re the Silver Slugger tonight, I mean, today.”
“Silver Slugger?”
“Yeah. In the majors, it goes to the batting champion. Here, it means you get a special reward from above. See that door over there?” He pointed to a door in the clubhouse marked ‘Silver Slugger’.
“Yes.”
“Well, go through that door and do as you’re told. A little perk from above to tonight’s MVP. Enjoy.”
“What’s going to happen?”
Mutt smiled and put a hand on his shoulder. “You’ll like it, don’t worry,” he said solemnly, turning and leaving the clubhouse.
Rocky stood there several moments, stunned, and one of the veterans came up. “You the Silver Slugger, Rocky?” He nodded his head quizzically. “You’ve got it made, friend, savor the fruits of victory. Relax, this is a good thing.” A slap on the butt, and the veteran was gone.
Timidly, he turned the doorknob and entered a descending hallway. The colors were the same as the locker room: light blue and lavender, the team colors. Light jazz oozed from unseen speakers: Rocky shook his head and walked like a zombie down the hallway. He hadn’t heard jazz before, even at the strip clubs he visited with his teammates past. The corridor ended with a wall, a video monitor at chest level playing a clip of a woman giving a well endowed man oral sex.
On his left there was a hole in the wall at waist height, covered with a black cloth on the inside. The video played out, and was replaced by a text message screen. Hello, Silver Slugger.
“Er, hello?”
That’s all right, I can hear every word you say, Rocky. Just keep talking. Great game tonight.
“Well, thanks, but it wasn’t that good. Struck out a couple of times and let that ball by me in the last inning.”
You came through under pressure with a great catch and hit the game winning home run. You’ve made your mark up here.
“Thanks. I hope I can help the team while I’m here.”
You will, you will. Now, stick your dick through the hole in the wall.
“What?”
Put your Louisville slugger in the place indicated. It’s time for your special bonus.
He paused several seconds. ‘How do I know it’s not some kind of trick?"
It IS some kind of trick, but you’ll like it.
“I know all kinds of things that can happen if I put my dick in there. You could spray it with skunk juice, or snap it in a rat trap, or you could be a big, hairy dude with two day’s stubble.”
Where do you come from? Did somebody trick you like this before?
“No, but I watched that old Robert Redford movie where he plays baseball and this chick in a hotel room pretends to like him then messes him up good.”
The Natural. Great movie, and based on a real event, but that’s not going to happen to you here. Didn’t your manager and your teammates say this is a good thing.
“Yeah, but they may be messing with me.”
If you’re unsure, stick your hand through the hole.
Reluctantly, Rocky put his hand through the hole, and it was immediate taken by a soft, feminine hand. Velvet lips encircled his index finger, a tongue teasing his cuticle, a gentle suction drew him in. After several moments, the hungry mouth released, and he found his hand cupping a palm sized breast, whose skin felt like satin, topped by a hard nipple. A tweak of the bud brought a squeak of delight.
He pulled his hand out. Satisfied?
“Yes. But I’ve got a girlfriend back home. . .”
She’s not here, is she?
“No.”
Don’t worry, I won’t tell her anything. Put your dick through the hole. I want to make you feel good.
He unbuttoned his fly and tentatively put his limp penis through the hole. Immediately, two soft hands began to stroke it alternately, making him hard almost immediately. One hand reached down to caress his balls while the other wanked him with long strokes. It was heavenly, and Rocky’s eyes looked up at the ceiling.
His girlfriend gave him a hand job like this on their first date. Connie gasped as she groped his trousers at his size, and released it immediately to look at it in awe. His sperm messed up the back seat of his car, and he had to spend most of the next morning cleaning it up, but it was worth it.
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The velvet lips were teasing the end of his cock. A serpent tongue flicked out to tease the crevasses at the head, making his balls tingle. The stroking and teasing went on for an eternity before the mouth suddenly engulfed half his protuberance and started sucking hard. Connie never did anything like this, contenting herself to nibble at his pole once and avoiding the stream she called forth.
Suddenly, he was released, his Louisville slugger dripping with saliva, abandoned momentarily. For a few moments, it entered a soft, silky cave of skin between two plush cushions, then the body on the other side turned for him to enter her vagina. He felt her inner lips against his cock, which swallowed him slowly but surely until he was completely embedded in her wet canal.
Connie never did this for him; she was determined to remain a virgin until marriage. Rocky had never done this before, and he couldn’t believe how wonderful it was to pound away inside a willing partner. Spasms surrounded his rock hard dick, and after some shuddering, pulled off again, leaving him unspent.
The screen awoke to life. That was fantastic, Rocky. Did you like that?
“God yes, why did you stop?”
That orgasm took my breath away. Have to settle down a bit. Your dick is so wonderful. Give me a minute and I’ll give you the best head of your life.
He could hear heavy breathing from the other side, and the hand returned to keep him hard. After a moment, he felt a tongue on his balls; Connie had refused to tea bag him point blank when he asked her. His bat grew incredibly stiff and he though he was going to blow his load within seconds, then the mouth swallowed him again, working deeper and deeper until he felt her nose in his pubic hair. It was even more incredible than being buried in that snatch a few moments ago, and soon he erupted in long, thick ropes down her waiting throat.
She licked him clean afterward, still stroking him gently and playing with his balls. Finally, he was back to normal and withdrew to put himself away. The screen came to life again.
Congratulations, Silver Slugger. You’ve received your well earned reward. Keep your eye on the ball and your mind in the game, and you may see this place again.
Rocky staggered back up the passageway, where his new roommates were waiting for him. They said nothing as he emerged, but gave him shit eating grins. “Now you know why we play hard every day here,” Phil Benson the shortstop said. “Let’s grab some steak and eggs before getting some shut eye.”
Mary Catherine McMillian sat in her special room putting her lipstick on when her daughter came into the room. It was a lavish room, with a large comfortable chair, laptop computer and a hole in the wall next to the chair. “Mother, I still can’t believe you’re doing this,” the younger woman groused, her foot tapping relentlessly on the floor. “You’re out of your fucking mind.”
The older woman checked the buttons of her silk blouse and adjusted the lapels. She wore a dark business suit over it, shorter than ususal. The suit hid a fantastic body, lean and seductive, and her blonde hair was just beginning to transition subtly to grey. “Look Wandawiggle, I’m old enough and have enough money to do whatever the hell I want, so get off my back. I love baseball and I love anonymous sex. That kid was the best hung stud we’ve ever had here. I loved every minute. Get off my back.”
Wanda McMillian paced the room nervously. “Stop calling me Wandawiggle, I’m an adult now. You’re forty eight years old. You should be more dignified.”
“Once again, I’ve got enough money I don’t care. Fuck you, I’ve earned it. You’re twenty five, when the hell are you going to start giving me grandchildren?”
“Shit, mother, do we have to start that again?”
“You would be better off if you got laid once in a while. That Karen girl you hang out with isn’t going to make you happy.”
“Damn you, Mother, damn you to hell. You just don’t understand.”
Mary Catherine got up and strode over to get in her daughter’s face. “Look kid, we’ve got a long history in baseball, a dynasty going back to Cap Anson, and we’ve got to think of the future. Somebody has to inherit this, and I don’t care if you want to munch carpet the rest of your life, you’re the only one who can keep this family going. Give me some grandchildren before your uterus falls out.”
“You aren’t dignified enough to be a grandmother. Why do you sneak down here and give your players blow jobs when they do well? Why don’t you just fuck them in some sleazy hotel?”
“I have to maintain my players’ respect. If they knew I was fucking and sucking them, they wouldn’t pay attention to me, they’d treat me like a fuck toy. I wouldn’t have any respect or control of them at all.”
“You are a fuck toy.”
Undisturbed, Mary Catherine continued. “This way I can motivate them, cultivate some mystery, and get them to bust their balls for me out on the field. And I get as much free, no strings attached sex as I want as long as somebody on the team is playing well.”
Wanda tapped her foot in frustration. “Well, that kid you blew this morning isn’t going anywhere. The Front Office evaluates him topping out at AA ball, and in about three years he’s going to be back home driving trucks across Minnesota full time. And his girlfriend has already taken up with another boy.”
“He’s 22 years old, anything can happen. He’ll get over the Scandinavian bitch with the big tits. He’s a hard worker, lots of speed, some pop in his bat, and he may surprise everybody.”
“Like he surprised you tonight?”
“Look Wandawiggle, you’d do well to hook up with him. You haven’t done any more than read the scouting report. He’s beautiful, a sweet kid, loyal to a fault and well built: he’ll give you lovely babies. Your son could be a Hall of Famer.”
Wanda paced the room again, while her mother continued to refresh her makeup in a compact mirror. “Well, he is kinda cute in spite of that nose. . .”
“There now. You won’t need Karen’s strap on any more, won’t need the vibrator. You dress down and meet him at a local watering hole. Don’t tell him you’re the owner’s daughter. Put yourself in range and be nice to him. That cock will split you so wide open, feel so good inside you, you’ll be in heaven.”
“I don’t know, he’s not going to be up here very long. . .”
“Bullshit. Tom Perkins went four for four in his Major League debut tonight, so he won’t be coming back for a while. We’ve got another outfielder at the end of the bench who hasn’t hit his weight since Spring Training, and I can talk the Big Club into sending him down to instead of Rocky when the time comes. We can keep him here long enough.”
Wanda looked thoughtful, and her mother came over to speak to her up close. “Do this and I’ll leave you everything,” Marie Catherine whispered in her ear. “I’ve got another shot at a Major League team and this time it’s going to happen. I know just the manager to hire, the free agents to sign, the scouts to hire, the talent to draft. We’ll make tons off the merchandising and build the team into a winner, the next America’s Team. Steinbrenner will eat his heart out.”
Wanda shook her head, smiling. “I think you’re crazy, Mom.”
The older woman cupped her daughter’s face and kissed it on the cheek. “Of course, I’m crazy Wandawiggle. I love baseball with all my heart, so much I’d fuck myself to sleep with a bat every night if I could. You’ve got baseball in your blood, too, or else you wouldn’t be here. Do it for the team, dearest, do it for the team. Do it for baseball.”
The End
Lemonade and White Melons
It was a bright, muggy August Tuesday morning in Lawrence, Kansas. Chris Jenkins was trimming a hedge at the side of a stately old house built after Quantrill’s Raid; a light blue 2 story house with a full front porch, gables, ornate trim, and long, thin windows. It had an ample yard with an artistic display of flowers in front of the house, and hedges on the side and along the back edge of the property. The trim was clean and white, thanks to Chris’ attentions the previous day, and the windows freshly washed. The crispy cut yard was a result of an early morning’s work, and after the current hedge, Chris was planning to rush home, grab a quick shower, and head to work at a convenience store on 6th Street.
Chris was a pudgy 30 year old, with brown eyes, glasses, sandy hair beginning to recede, and a closely trimmed beard. He wore a Bethany College t-shirt in deference to a school he attended for a semester years ago. His KU shorts were another memento of a failed attempt at higher education; his feet were in blue high top sneakers.
He grew up in Lawrence: his father worked as a cabinet maker for the Reuter Organ Company and his mother worked in the local library as she raised their seven children, Chris the second youngest. After his failure to establish himself away from home, Chris and his father renovated the basement of the family home on Missouri street into an apartment the summer before the old man died of a heart attack. For the past five years, he casually looked after his mother while working odd jobs to supplement his income as convenience store manager.
The homeowner, Mrs. Anna Pearson was a few feet away, working on her roses. A broad hat protected her from the sunlight, but her tall frame was already bronzed from many hours of dedication to her flowers. She wore a white, baggy, sleeveless blouse, and red shorts that reached almost to her knees; one foot was encased in a walking boot and she leaned on two crutches. She was Chris’ old German teacher, who came to Lawrence many years before as the bride of a professor, widowed relatively young, and raised a family herself. Her face belied her age: she was 70 years old, but looked as though she was in her early 50’s.
Chris paused to see her reach awkwardly across her body and drop her snips, one crutch dropping to the ground and her body trying to regain her balance, swaying in preparation for a fall. The shears fell to the ground and he rushed over to catch her, encircling her in his arms and taking her weight. “I’ve got you, Frau Pearson, I’ve got you. Don’t worry, you’ll be all right. You okay?”
“Ja. Thank you, Chris.” Her voice was low and dulcet, untouched by age, and a bare hint of an accent. The H almost disappeared from the first word and her W’s tended to drift toward V’s.
“I was afraid I was going over. Never got the hang of these darn things.”
“I’ll get you where you can sit down. Where should we go?”
She looked around. “How about the back steps?”
“Fine.”
Half carrying and half stumbling, they managed to cross the yard and around to where he could set her down. Hunched over, he realized as they maneuvered the bulges he held were not folds of her stomach but her breasts. The prick of the nipples on his palms caused a natural reaction, which pushed into the crevasse of bottom as it was flush against his pelvis. He was glad her face was hidden by her straw hat: despite being drenched with sweat, he was sure he was blushing, and his consternation at his reaction fueled it rather than quenched it.
They reached the back stairs, which led up to the back porch. She managed to gain control and let herself down on the steps while he held on to make sure she had a soft landing. Backing away, he looked at her: her hat fell off as she sat and her long white streaked dark hair was frizzled in a bun with a braided ponytail. She looked up at him, her blue eyes blinking in the sunlight and her mouth framing a smile he rarely saw in High School. Her eyes flicked to his shorts and found a blue bulge that brought a twinkle. “Thank you, Chris, I’m very grateful you helped me avoid an accident.”
He stepped back and looked away. “You’re welcome, Frau Pearson. I didn’t want you to hurt yourself.”
“Is there anything I can do for you?’ She asked in an ordinary tone, looking him in the eye as he dared face her.
“I’m a little thirsty.”
“There is a pitcher of lemonade on the counter in the kitchen. Why don’t you get us a couple of glasses from the cupboard beside the sink?”
“Sure.”
He trotted past her quickly as he ascended the stairs and went through the porch and into the kitchen. It was in perfect order: a huge room with antique cabinets above and below. The frosty glass pitcher sat on the counter, milky with a couple of seeds lurking in the murk. He pulled two plastic tumblers from the cabinet and filled them, the cold refreshing in his hot hands. After filling them, he took a deep breath and tried to focus on something that would calm him: his last girlfriend’s caustic rejection of his request for oral stimulation did the trick. Shuddering like someone surfacing from the depths, he felt able to face his old teacher again.
“Thank you, Chris,” she smiled as he handed her the tumbler. He stepped away and sipped his drink: it was the best lemonade he’d every tasted. “You’ve been so nice to help me while I’ve been hobbled by this awful thing.”
“You’re welcome, Frau Pearson. Happy to help.”
“Could you fetch my other crutch from the side?”
“Sure”
A glance at his watch as he rounded the house told him he didn’t have much time. On returning, he came up to hand her the crutch and noticed that his hold on her had gathered her blouse to outline her breasts with sweat. Momentarily, they caught his gaze before he handed them back. A stirring in his loins began and he blurted: “I need to go, Frau Pearson. Gotta get ready for work.”
“Sure, Chris, I’ll be all right here. I’m not going to try anything stupid for the rest of the day. Will you come back tomorrow morning and finish the hedges for me?”
“Sure, Frau Pearson.”
Her eyes were beaming and her smile was broad. “I like it when you call me Frau Pearson. Reminds me of happy memories.”
He shrugged. “Habit.”
Letting down the ramp of the old Chevy truck he inherited from his dad, he rolled his push mover up into the bed, and started home. His hands trembled as he held the steering wheel, and his arousal was still stirring. When he got home, he showered in cool water before putting on his uniform, reporting for work at 4:00PM with wet hair.
That evening, he was paired with Jessica, a junior in high school with an above average body and a below average face. She was heavily made up, with her hair dyed several shades of red. He was going through some inventories at the counter when he noticed she had been sitting on a stool nearby working on her yellow painted fingernails. “What are you doing, Jessica?”
“Filing my nails.” A pop of gum accompanied her disdain.
“Why don’t you take a damp cloth and dust the shelves?”
“Can I take a smoke break?”
He looked around. “You had one fifteen minutes ago. The shelves need dusting.”
“Been there, done that yesterday.” She continued to work on her nails and her gum.
“It doesn’t look like it.”
“Tough.”
He spun around and looked her square in the eye. She batted her eyes at him, trying to manipulate his libido. “Look, we’re not paying you to sit around. We have a hard time selling stuff with an inch of dust on it. I’ve had to write you up twice this month already. Get moving.” His voice brooked no refusal.
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