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Jay and Faith: The Soocer Team (chapter 3)

Jay a high school teacher and school soccer coach asks his favorite student Faith and some of her friends to help him out by going the soccer team. They might not win every game but Jay will score with some of his favorite players in the locker room after a late game.

Club Fatale, Pt. 4

Club Fatale, Pt. 4
Chapter Six – Enter Devon
I woke in the morning, my cock still inside Enya’s warm pussy. It was so tight that I could feel myself harden immediately.
I pulled out and rolled the girl onto her back. I quickly straddled her head and fucked her face until I got off. She moaned the whole time and I sprayed my jizm all over her youthful features.
Rolling off of her, I pulled my pants on and walked into the living room.
I stopped short. In the living room was Emmanuelle, seated on a sofa. With her was an unfamiliar dark-haired woman, sitting beside her. Jana knelt a few feet away: her eyes wet with tears.
“Emmanuelle?” I said, surprised. “Good morning! I didn’t hear you come in. Who’s your friend?”
She took a deep breath.
“I have some bad news. I’m afraid that Karina won’t be returning to you, Evan,” Emmanuelle said. Her voice was flat and slightly rushed. I could tell that she was trying to get some unpleasant business out of the way as quickly as possible. “The Commodore sends his regrets and a suitable replacement for your loss.”
She gestured.
The brunette beside her stood and I checked her out: long legs, large breasts on a slender frame. She was an older lady, perhaps Emmanuelle’s age, but still a very fine specimen. Beautiful features. Blue eyes. If older, she was clearly superior to Jana’s sister. A Grade-AA, unless I missed the mark.
“So,” I said. “The old dog went and offed her, did he? Or did he just not feel like returning her to me?”
“Things got a little out of hand, last night,” Emmanuelle said. “I apologize and offer my sincerest regrets for any inconvenience, Evan. I… You have to understand that these things happen from time to time.”
I realized that she was scared.
“What’s wrong, Emma?” I asked. “An accident like this hardly justifies such discomfort on your part.”
“She’s upset,” Enya said, as she emerged from my bedroom, “because according to the rules of conduct set down by father, you now have the opportunity to claim redress for grievances against him…”
“And that means?” I prompted.
“My life is yours, Evan,” Enya finished. “Your property has been destroyed by another. You now have the opportunity to use me as you see fit. You can do anything you wish to me and not even father can interfere.”
I felt a sudden thrill run through me. It wasn’t every day that a beautiful young woman informed you of something like that. I saw Jana sobbing on her knees: grieving over her sister. I looked at Emmanuelle waiting with bated breath. I stared at Enya: seemingly unafraid of what might come.
“It’s alright, Emma,” I said. “I don’t blame you or hold any grudges against the Commodore. Enya will return with you.”
Emmanuelle smiled, relieved. The tension ran off of her.
My attention was already turning to the brunette. “What’s your name, sweet thing?” I asked.
“Devon,” was the answer.
“Devon what?” I pressed.
“We don’t often tell our family names here, master,” the brunette said. She had a curious accent: part English, part something I couldn’t identify. “I am Devon: your woman. That is all that is important…”
I nodded. That much was true. “Inform the Commodore that I accept his gift, Emmanuelle, and thank him. There will be much pleasure in this one.”
I stared at Devon. Her return smile rivaled one of Emmanuelle’s.
Emmanuelle broke out into a grin and spoke. “I’ll take my leave, now. And thank you for taking care of Enya, Evan. I’ve rarely seen her so… satisfied.”
“We had good times,” I said.
Enya and I shared one last look before she left.
“Until next time, Evan,” the mother said. And the old Emmanuelle was back. I could see the sultry look in her Dresden-blue eyes. Whatever problem had been between us before, she had gotten over it.
“Until later, my dear.”
I watched Emmanuelle leave with Enya. Then I turned to my new acquisition.
“On your back,” I said.
Pushing Devon’s dress up, I entered her and took her upon my couch. I fucked her mightily for over an hour before coming in her pussy and leaving her spent. Afterwards, I went to seek out Angelique.
Chapter Seven – The Mistress of Snuff
The first day of snuff class came.
Mistress Angelique was my instructor. At five-foot-eight and a hundred and twenty pounds, she was a knockout with a dazzling figure. Raven-black hair curled about her muscular shoulders and mischievous blue eyes sparkled beneath dark, furrowed brows. She wore a tight corset of a lacy black that contained bulging breasts; black stockings that sheathed her toned, athletic legs.
Angelique had a riding crop and she used it like someone out of a fetish movie.
Behind her were three bound women: a blonde, a brunette and a redhead.
“Mr. Evan Anderson,” Mistress Angelique began. “You are here because you wish to know of the art form called snuff.”
I opened my mouth. The crop cracked me across the buttocks.
“That was a statement,” she said. “Do not speak until you are asked a question.”
I closed my mouth.
“Snuffing is an art form of unbelievable antiquity and lineage,” the dark-haired goddess said with conviction. “It was passed down from father to son through ancient days: unbroken, unsullied. It was hidden away from the eyes of mortal men, practiced by wicked priests, mighty kings and gods that walked among men. From ancient Egypt, Persia, Greece and Rome to the dark ages of medieval Europe, through the middle ages and the renaissance, it was performed in dark corners and secluded places. On the nights of Samhain and Imbolc, Beltane and Lughnasagh, Celtic bards would snuff the daughters of nobles and kings upon their pagan altars, slicing their throats with golden sickles and ejaculating onto the dying girls’ faces. According to their code, Viking raiders were required to fuck to death the first woman they captured every season, while her female kin were forced to stand by and watch. At wartime, the Samurai warriors and lords of feudal Japan would assemble every day to take the most beautiful peasant girl from their enemy’s lands and, together in a circle, drown her in gallons of their sperm…”
She stopped and I stared at her. Despite myself, I was growing intrigued by Angelique’s lecture.
“You wish to ask a question, Mr. Anderson?”
I shook my head.
“Then on to business,” she said.
“Firstly, Mr. Anderson,” Mistress Angelique continued. “If you are to become a full and respected member of Club Fatale, then you must have a first-class, working knowledge of the tools of the trade.”
Angelique rounded me, dragging the tip of her crop across my shoulders like a harsh caress; her lips close, her voice soft.
“There are three main implements of torture involved in the art of snuffing: the garrote, the knife and the whip…”
Angelique’s delicate hands pulled aside a tablecloth to reveal several examples of said implements: knives of every shape and size, garrotes of wire, silk and old fashioned rope and several whips, some barbed, some knotted, some made of the finest silk. Those would sting the greatest of all.
“There are three main devices of execution involved in the art of snuffing: the gallows, the guillotine and the pool…”
Angelique gestured to the far side of the room and the lights rose. There was a full length gallows with a long rope and a trapdoor, a monstrous guillotine with a shining, razor-sharp blade and a full tank of water just the right size and height for sinking a girl and drowning her in its icy-cold depths.
“But, more importantly, there is one main tool involved in the art of snuffing…”
With a thwack of her riding crop she smacked my cock.
“It is right there between your legs: the world’s most magnificent creation. It is the cock which gives you the ability to be the greatest artist. It is the cock that defines you, that drives you, that feeds your lust for destruction. And if there is one truism that I have learned in my lifetime, it is that man is the ultimate destroyer…”
She looked up at me. “Choose,” she said.
“Choose what?” I asked.
Angelique glared at me and gestured to the three bound women.
“Why, which one will die, of course,” she said. “All three of these women before you deserve that and nothing less. Not because of their crimes to this Club, nor by their economic fates that put them in such a tenuous position. No. They deserve their fates because of the virtue of their sex. They are women. What use is there for them but to please men? Always in life, even in dying.”
She turned and studied the three and I did as well.
“First we have Brittany: age 38, blonde hair, blue eyes, housewife from Kansas City. She was acquired when her husband sold her to a brothel while out of the country. She has proven incapable of following the rules as expected and must be disciplined and terminated. She has quite a chest on her and would scream long and hard as she expired.”
“Second is Mona: age 23, red hair, dark eyes, business student from Italy. She was kidnapped specifically for a Club member, but he tired of her and her rebellious streak. She has proven too difficult to train and tame. She is athletic and, so far, has been adept at surviving suffering. But she cannot last forever and it would be such a thrill and a challenge to break her.”
“Third is Natalie: age 31, black hair, brown eyes, a common whore from Russia. We purchased her from the Russian mafia for a mere thousand dollars. That was six years ago and she has proven herself quite the survivor. She was scheduled for snuffing once before, but she survived the ordeal and, in the process, made twenty men come.”
She turned to me: “Housewife, student or whore; which will it be?”
I met the eyes of each female in turn, weighing the possibilities. Angelique watched me decide.
“I want them all,” I said.
“Ah! I see that you are indeed a man of uncommon depth and desires,” the brunette mistress said. She stepped up to the blonde. “This one first, then,” she said. “How do you wish to do her, Master Evan? A fast snuffing or a slow one?”
“I want to know everything,” I said. “Teach me everything.”
The brunette mistress proceeded to teach me. First the whip. Mistress Angelique showed me how to place a blow upon the flesh for simple play or for maximum pain and maximum damage. Over several hours we used nothing but the whip upon the blonde. Brittany screamed and only when her screams rose to an intensity that Angelique approved of did the Mistress allow me to enter her. I fucked the blonde housewife from behind, pulled her head back, strangling her with my whip, and came inside her.
“Should I strangle her to death, mistress?” I asked.
“Now, Master Evan, where is the fun in the that?” she chided me. “The thrill of the kill must be savored.”
I released the blonde. She gasped desperately.
Angelique took up a second whip and together we scourged Brittany’s body into a bloody mess: back, thighs, stomach and breasts. A blow from Angelique struck the blonde’s sensitive pussy, making her cry out in abject pain. My next blow caught her across the face, nearly taking out her eye. The next drew a jagged red welt across her breasts. And so on and so on, until she was hanging limp and half dead.
“She’s finished, Master Evan,” Angelique told me. “Get behind her and enter her.”
I did as instructed. My iron cock went in smooth and tight. She was so ready for me. I started moving inside her. She moaned listlessly.
Angelique took a knife from the table: a long, straight medieval blade.
“Pull her head back,” she said.
I did, by the hair.
Angelique struck, slashing the blade across Brittany’s throat. Blood sprayed and the blonde cried out in indescribable agony.
“Pull back, harder!” Angelique cried. “And fuck her dying body, Master!”
A gout of crimson shot forth and coated Angelique. The brunette mistress pulled her corset down and bathed her breasts in Brittany’s blood. I humped the blonde with wild abandon, thrusting deep and hard. Brittany gurgled and convulsed for nearly a minute, spraying blood from her torn throat as she expired.
Angelique leaned forward, over Brittany’s shoulder and our lips met. We kissed, enflamed, and I rose. My cock slid from the dead pussy.
“That was the first kill I ever participated in,” I said, voice impassioned.
“Then fuck me in her blood!” Angelique said, desperately.
I threw the black-clad mistress to the floor in the pool of Brittany’s blood and swiftly mounted her. I fucked her deeply, my cock harder than I had ever remembered it. We panted together, like two predators after a hunt and a kill. Beneath me, she writhed in the crimson pool. She came, convulsing, on my cock. Crying out, I came as well, sending my burning semen deep into my delicious mistress.
“Take me to the beach and fuck me again,” she said. “Our training is done for the day. Leave this slut’s corpse to hang.”
I did as she asked. I fucked her in the sand before the ocean, coming inside her for a second time. The afternoon passed into night. We spoke like lovers and I found my attraction to her growing exponentially.
When midnight came, I took her to my beach house. Together we used Jana and Devon, hurting them for our mutual satisfaction and pleasure. While Devon licked Angelique’s pussy, I strangled Jana until she passed out. Angelique got behind Devon and caught her in a sleeper hold. As I fucked Jana’s pussy, I watched my dark angel choke the elder brunette beauty to unconsciousness.
We fucked for hours upon their unconscious bodies.
I rose in the morning.
My cock was as hard as an iron bar. Angelique’s firm fingers wrapped around it and she jacked me slowly.
“You need release, master…” Her eyes flicked to Jana. “Take her. She’s prime meat.”
I felt a raging fire rise in me. I wanted her, badly. I sat up and moved to straddle the blonde girl’s head. Jana woke as my cock pressed past her lips. Deeply, I throated her. Angelique held her head as I did, watching me with beautiful, blinking eyes. I fucked deeper and harder, punishing the girl.
It wasn’t long before I was ready to come.
Angelique moved to get behind me, straddling Jana’s chest. Her warm pussy pressed into my butt; her hips moved with mine. Whatever I felt, fucking Jana’s face, it was like she was feeling it along with me. “Take her, Evan… Now, here with me,” Angelique cooed softly into my ear. Her delicate chin rested lightly on my shoulder. “Make her the first… your first… our first, together…” She nibbled at my ear.
I knew that she meant it. I had never gone all the way. I wanted to. I wanted to do it with her. I wanted to make her proud of me.
I thrust my cock down Jana’s throat for the last time. Jana struggled upon me, realizing that this was the end. It was impossible for her to breathe with me sitting on her chest, cock buried in her throat. She couldn’t escape.
“Watch her Evan,” Angelique whispered to me. “Watch her while you take her, while you destroy her life. Even now, she clings to it. She wants to live. That is the beauty of snuff, my sweet. You hold sooo much power over her: ultimate power. There she goes… there she goes… just about…”
“NOW!” Angelique hissed. “COME DOWN HER THROAT, EVAN!”
The tightness of Jana’s throat and the arousal of her coming demise were too much. I cried out and came.
“Oh, yes!” Angelique said into my ear. “Oh, god! Look at her, baby! Look at her FUCKING DYING UPON your cock!”
Together, we watched as Jana drowned in my come. Angelique’s chin was on my shoulder and she watched in silence as I took my first kill.
I turned my head to kiss her.
“How did that feel, lover?” she asked.
“Indescribable. I’m glad that I could share it with you, my love,” I said.
My gaze turned down and alighted upon Devon. The brunette Brit had watched us the whole time without saying a word.
“See how she watches you,” Angelique said in my ear. “So patiently. She knows that it will be her, the next time. She knows that it will be you who ends her this way…”
I looked into Devon’s eyes and imagined her last moments while Angelique kissed my neck and shoulders…
The next day was the same. And the next. Three days passed and still we did not advance past the whip. Angelique set me about working upon Mona. It was only when I could draw a howl from the young redhead without marking her skin that Angelique agreed to continue to the next stage.
The day after that, Angelique taught me the secrets of the knife. Standing close to me, whispering sexily into my ear, she showed me the arts of pain and torture with the blade and how they could transform into pleasure. Mona screamed at first, and for several days, but eventually her cries turned to howls of indescribable pleasure as I learned to cut and thrust with precision.
Every once in a while, at least once a day, the Commodore would come by and watch. He seemed very intrigued about what we were doing. At times, I heard him muttering to himself, saying that I had promise, that I could be the one.
The one what, he never said.
People began talking about me; my intensity, my dedication, my concentration. I took little heed of them, lost as I was in my quest for perfection and my desire for Angelique.
My feelings for the dark-haired vixen grew by leaps and bounds. I knew that I had met a kindred spirit in her. When darkness fell, we would fuck on the sandy beach, teasing each other with pain or pleasure until the hours took us into the more erotic confines of my bedroom. During those erotic nights, I made long, lasting love to her and wished it would never end.
When we desired excitement, we would walk along the beach where the new girls were brought to be raped and snuffed. We would drink together while I received a blowjob from Sophia, the tanned Caribbean bartender. We sampled the cuisine prepared by Sonya, the Commodore’s personal chef.
We even dined with the Commodore and Emmanuelle on Bonfire Night, drinking thousand-dollar wine over generous cuts of finely cooked Patricia.
Jacob delivered the redheaded Cameron to me, as he had promised: my prize for unknowingly helping him acquire the beautiful Tori. Angelique and I broke the attractive young girl in like a prized mare. Together, we fucked her with the assistance of the darkly beautiful Devon and left her unconscious in a puddle of our combined juices.
It was a good life and I didn’t have a care in the world.
I had practically forgotten about my previous existence. But my businesses had been left in good hands and the one time I checked up on them, I found no problems. They were booming, even; my business model was pointing to a record year.
I called Jacqueline twice, but I found myself strangely distanced from her. I kept thinking of her in compromising positions.
I had fever-dreams of her; bound and whipped, with Angelique standing behind her, knife caressing her neck. I would step up to her, thrust myself inside of her and take her violently while she begged for release. Angelique would watch from behind and hump herself into Jacqueline’s ass. Then, at the moment of climax, the knife would slash and my daughter’s blood would gush onto my chest and cock.
And the last thing I would say to my young, innocent daughter before she died was that she had fulfilled her destiny.

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Getting revenge on Daddy, part 1

NOTE: This is part 1 of a new story, establishing a premise. There is less sex here than there would be in part 2. It’s also my first time writing in second person – let me know by commenting if you like it, as it will help me prioritize which part of which of my stories I should write next.
As always, constructive comments are welcome 🙂

Wendy tells a story

Wendy and Brit are BFF’s They spend a lot of time together as teenagers and share secrets together. Wendy decides to share a secret that will change both girl’s lives very soon.

Satan’s book1

So yeah, first story here tell my what you think, this is more of an intro then anything it’ll get worse

Confessions

True story.
—-
In my defense, I can argue that his computer was so much better than mine. Well, sort of. Anyway, I’d use any excuse I could find to justify my curiosity. Dad used to spend so much time at night in his computer… sometimes I woke up very late at night to drink water or use the bathroom, and I’d notice the light in his bedroom. His computer light. Oh, there should be something really, really good happening over there, and I had to know what it was.
But first, let me say something about myself to you, my dear reader.
Mother left us when I was young, and my father was always a perfect gentleman with me. At first he hired a maid, both for the chores and to take care of me after school, but as I got older I told him I could take care of our home and myself. I knew things weren’t easy, and he could save that money. It took him a while to agree, but eventually he did.
I was obviously thrilled about that freedom. During afternoon our home was all for myself. Sure, it required a lot of trust from my father, and I always did everything I could to be worthy of it. That meant no friends – or boyfriends, for that matter – at home when he wasn’t around. I could have done some pretty… naughty things and he probably wouldn’t find out, but I never, never took any chance.
And wow, I had a lot of reasons to do it. Since I entered puberty and discovered my own body, I was horny all! The! Time!. Masturbation was a very important part of my daily routine. I used to daydream at school about new exciting ways to masturbate myself, and barely could wait to get home and try it. Although horny, I’ve never touched myself at school, saving my energies to do it at home, completely at ease (and naked).
Oh, how I enjoyed to be naked. It brings this powerful energy when you remove your clothes, specially when you’re not supposed too. I knew daddy would be very, very angry (or at least, disappointed) with me if he found out I walked around home totally nude (sometimes, only wearing some sandals or socks), and that thought turned me on very, very much. It was naughty, forbidden, and made me horny as hell.
Sometimes I’d spent a long time in his bedroom, in his own bed, watching TV (and touching myself). “Oh, if daddy knew what I’m doing, he’d probably chastise me”. No, I didn’t think anything sexual about him (not at that time, anyway). When I say chastise I truly mean punish, like confining me in my bedroom, no TV or telephone for a month, hiring another maid, maybe even hitting me (although I couldn’t imagine he hurting me in any way).
Oh, telephone. Another important part of my teen years (and it still is). The first time I thought about calling one of my friends nude I was thrilled (and apprehensive). What if he/she noticed I wasn’t wearing anything during our call? I knew it was a very silly idea, but I had this naivety in me. What a problem that would be? I imagined them gossiping for the entire school about my “clothing” habits at home, and that terrified me.
It took me a while to do it. I handpicked one of my most trustful friend, Camila. If somehow she found out (I know! Silly!), I could persuade (or beg) her not to tell anyone.
And so I did. Called her. Completely nude, laying down in my bed. I wasn’t horny at first, I was afraid, and tried very hard to sound completely normal. I was sweating profusely. We gossiped as usual (mostly about boys). For a while I wondered if she was nude too, another silly idea, I knew she lived with her parents and brothers. But imagining her naked, with me naked too, while we’re both on the phone was enough to turn me on.
I didn’t dare to masturbate during that first call. Neither during the second, third or fourth, if I remember it right. But I did after all of them, and oooooh, it was amazing. Talking to people while totally bare was a huge turn on for the teen of me (and sometimes, it still is).
I became bolder. Yes, I silently masturbated during our calls. Not only with my female friends, but the boys too. Specially them. I knew boys wanted to see girls naked, and there I was, totally nude, talking to them on the phone. And they had no clue about how I was “dressed”.
I remember the first time I was so horny, but soooo horny, I had to rub the phone in me. Yes, “there”. In my hairy, virgin teen pussy. He was talking about his math homework, and I rubbed lightly the speaker in my wet vagina. When I returned it to my ear, he was asking “What is that noise?!?!”
And I answered, slightly breathless “I dunno… maybe something in the cable”.
He noticed I was… different. “Are you okay?”. Still turned on, I had to stop my fingering. Although confident he wouldn’t know the truth, I still didn’t want to run any risks.
“Yeah, I was… lifting a… book.”
“A book?”
“Books. It’s a mess here”.
He laughed, I was relieve and resumed my silent masturbation.
Just then I noticed I could smell myself on the speaker. I knew my smell from my fingers (and I usually washed my hands at the end of the day), but to have my scent so close to my mouth, and I didn’t think twice. I licked it.
“That weird sound again. What’s happening to your phone?”
“I dunno, maybe humidity. It’s been raining these days”. I tried to hide my breathlessness this time.
“Yeah, you should change your cables”.
“I know. I can barely hear you now”. It was a lie. And I furiously masturbated me with the phone. “Crazy”, I thought, “I am crazy”, and I came. I tried hard not to moan, but I failed. A small whimper escaped my lips.
On returned to my ear, I could hear him calling me on the phone. “Sorry, I wasn’t listening”.
“Did you fell or something? I heard you whine!”
I could feel my cheeks burning. I was blushing furiously. “No, I was masturbating, you moron”, I wanted to admit, perhaps laughing.
“No, I… I was lamenting my faulty line.”, I lied, visibly breathless… again. “We’d better talk later”, I concluded quickly, and hung up the phone.
Gee, I was hysterical! I couldn’t stop laughing and thinking about the crazy thing I just had done! I felt bold, embarrassed, excited, horny, all at the same time. Did he notice I was touching me? I was horny? Would he say something tomorrow at school?
While I thought about the possible implications, I licked tenderly the phone… I loved my taste, so much I had to lick my fingers too…
I carefully cleaned the phone after that. Last thing I need was my father finding out I had sex with my phone… and the thought of him sniffing my sexy scent on it was… weird. Enticing, but weird, because I was sure we wouldn’t get horny, he would get mad at me. That’s what I believed at that time, anyway.
About my friend, nothing. He mentioned quickly something about my line, but we both let the subject drop… fast. I was embarrassed, maybe he noticed what really happened and was embarrassed too. Anyway, I didn’t discover the truth back then, I probably never will.
That was the first and last time I masturbated with my phone, but I didn’t stop masturbating at the phone. I remember vividly one time I called one of my friends (I knew he had a crush on me), and his father answered the phone. There I was, naked, slowly masturbating, and talking to a man old enough to be my father. And he was handsome *grin*.
I wondered if he’d like to see me naked. The boys I was sure, but a grown up? Would he even care to see a teen nude? Would he have a hard-on? And want to have sex with me?
You have to understand I was just a teenager. I could notice the effect I had on boys, but I’ve never noticed a grown man look differently at me. I always assumed boys wanted only girls, and men wanted only women.
Fact is, I wanted to know. I had to know. It was the very first time I wanted the person on the phone to know I was naked. But not only tell him. I wanted to show him. I would feel a very powerful girl if I did notice he was interested in my body, maybe I’d even agree to let him pop my cherry, even knowing very well it was utterly wrong. Age problem, and he was married, and father of my dear friend, just to name a few.
But the fact it was so wrong… made it much, much better. Juicy, to say the least. And I had to control the urge to tell him I was naked and horny and I’d agree to let him see me if he wanted. All he had to do was ask.
And didn’t, of course, but that was the exact moment I understood I had a thing about older men. I even called a couple of male teachers in the nude, and fantasized about them. My imagination had no limits, and I felt like a slut, a virgin one, ok, but a slut anyway. And loved it.
But there’s a problem on becoming confident and bold. You also become careless, sloppy. I always took all my precautions before undressing and playing with my own body. I lived in a condo of buildings, and there were both neighbors in front and back, what meant that almost any open curtain could mean trouble. A lot.
And it finally happened. I forgot to close my father’s bedroom curtain. I was masturbating in my living room, talking to a friend. Distracted, I decided to move to my dad’s bed, and didn’t notice the problem. When I finally hung up the phone, I saw him. Mr. Henderson looking at me. Completely naked. Masturbating. In my own father’s bed. And he was smiling, clearly enjoying it.
I knew him. He knew me. And my dad. And I was in deep trouble.
Scared, I closed the curtain fast as a lightning. Heart pounding heavily. What I show I gave him!
Well, that’s enough for today, I think. I’m gonna continue later. Thank you for reading, and lemme know what do you think!

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Michelle-Pool Party 8-Ch 18

I led him through the kitchen, pausing to grab the small plastic squeeze bottle of anti-bacterial soap off the counter. I took him to the stairs and started up when my first flash inspiration hit me.
Two steps ahead of him, I “accidentally” dropped the small plastic container and bent down to pick it up. I knew that this should put my pussy just inches in front of his face.
I was hoping he would take the hint and do something…anything…but didn’t want to linger too long in my bent over position. It would just be too obvious.
I straightened and led him down the hall to my room. Leading him to the edge of my bed, I turned him to face me. For the first time, I got a good look at the nasty ugly bruises on his knee and hip. I quickly knelt down in front of him. I ran my fingertips ever so lightly over the welt on his knee, and then moved my hand higher up, to the bruise on the front of his hip.
Leaning in close, I ran my fingertips gently over the red area, probing very, very gently.
I felt him wince a little, and leaned closer still, pretending to be inspecting his wound.
My eyes, however, were focused on his penis. It was right in front of me…inches away from my face…my mouth.
My pussy fluttered and my breath caught. I could feel the juices soaking me. Oh God how I wanted to…wanted to…
I stood and pushed him gently back, seating him on the edge of my bed. I held up his injured arm, pretending to examine his wound. But the corners of my eyes were still focused on his penis…right there…naked…between his legs…sitting on my bed.
My pussy fluttered again and I felt another flush of my juices. God I hoped I wasn’t dripping.
“Stay right there for a second,” I managed to whisper in a hoarse voice, “I’ll be right back.”
I scurried down toward the bathroom, but had to pause to catch my breath. He was in my bedroom! He was sitting on my bed! He was naked! His penis was…right there!
Regaining my composure, I entered the bathroom, hastily pulling the electric toothbrush, blow dryer, and hair brush off the small tray they sat on.
I opened the medicine chest and pulled out the tube of first aid cream and the cotton balls. Moving quickly to the linen cabinet, I pulled out gauze, bandages, and the peroxide. I grabbed a wash cloth and wet it with warm water. Wringing it almost dry, I placed everything on the tray and almost ran back to my room.
He was still sitting right where I had left him. I tried not to stare at his penis as I approached, but my mouth was literally watering at just the thought…
I had intended to set the tray on the bed next to him, but then thought, “That would be stupid.” A much better idea flashed through my fantasy inflamed mind.
I stopped just in front of him and turned around. With my back to him, I bent way over and carefully placed the tray on the floor. My feet were discreetly apart, so I was pretty sure he would be able to see my slit, and the lips of my pussy peeking between my thighs.
I bent my knees slightly as I fumbled with the tops of both the first aid cream and the peroxide. I was pretty sure that, bent over like this, with my knees somewhat bent, the cheeks of my butt would be parting and he should be able to see my tiny back hole, as well as a much better view of my pussy.
I fiddled with the supplies for a few moments, opening the gauze and the bandages. God I wanted him to touch me…feel me…caress me…do something…anything!
After a minute or two of…nothing…I gave up, straightening and turning to face him.
I moved his knees slightly apart and stood between them, damp wash cloth in my hand.
I propped one foot up on the edge of the bed, just outside his hip, and reached for the wrist of his injured arm. I draped it across my knee, inspecting his elbow again. I was hoping…wishing…praying…that in this position his eyes would be on my open pussy, now right in front of his face.
I let go of his arm and turned around, bending over again to retrieve the peroxide.
When I turned back to face him, I thought, (or maybe just hoped…prayed), that his penis looked like it had swelled a little bit.
I propped my foot back up on the bed, again lewdly displaying my pussy just inches in front of his face, and reached for his arm, laying it across my knee. I dabbed at the scraped, bruised area with the cloth, and, satisfied it wasn’t actually bleeding, released his arm. I turned and bent over once more, this time grabbing a couple of the cotton balls.
I repeated my show of propping my foot up on the bed. This time, when I placed his arm across my knee, I could actually see his eyes…staring between my legs. My pussy fluttered.
I really…REALLY…wanted to reach down and spread my lips open and ask…beg, for him to…to…to…
I finished cleaning his elbow and quickly knelt on the floor in front of him, inspecting his knee. My eyes were still distracted by his naked penis just inches from my face as I repeated the cleaning process with first the cloth, and then the cotton balls and peroxide. Even though I was kind of trying to pay attention to what I was doing, my clit was throbbing as my eyes were automatically drawn to his penis, right there in front of my face. It was just so perfect! My mouth was watering as I felt another rush of juices flush my pussy.
I finished his knee and leaned closer still, looking at the wound on his hip. Oh God his penis was now only inches away from my face…my mouth…
I dabbed at the ugly red patch on the front of his hip, and then started around the side. I’m not exactly sure how he landed when he came down on the edge of the deck, but this bruise started on the front quarter of his hip and went all the way around the side, disappearing under his butt.
I dabbed as far as I could, and then whispered in my sexiest voice, “You’re going to have to kind of lift up…and maybe sort of roll over.”
It kind of hurt me to say that because I really didn’t want him to move anywhere that would move his penis from in front of my face, but figured once the “nurse thing” was over, I might get the chance to give his penis all the undivided attention I wanted.
I ducked back and he promptly rolled onto his side. It looked uncomfortable as hell, with his legs stuck out straight from the end of the bed. In a flash, the next inspiration hit.
“Better idea,” I kinda cooed. “Why don’t you scoot down here and kind of sort of kneel on the floor and lean over the bed?”
He quickly did as I asked, although I think he gave me a kind of a funny look as he moved into position.
Unlucky for him, but very lucky for me, this scrape was actually bleeding a little bit, and a couple of the droplets had dripped onto his upper thigh…a couple onto his butt cheek.
I dabbed at them one by one, all the while staring at his beautiful…tight…perfect butt, right in front of my face. I finished cleaning him and had another flash inspiration.
I grabbed the tube of first aid cream and dribbled a few drops onto the scraped area. I put the tube back down and started using my fingertips to gently…very gently…spread it around the bruise.
I couldn’t help but bend over slightly and look between his legs. In his bent over position, both his penis and balls were hanging down between his legs, just off the edge of the bed.
Oh God I wanted to…wanted to…wanted to…
I let my fingertips continue playing with his hip, his thigh, the cheek of his butt. Without even realizing it, my fingers were getting closer and closer to his gorgeous crack, to his balls…to his penis…
I continued staring between his legs as my breath became short and another flood of juice washed through my pussy.
I stopped pretending.
I moved one hand to his other cheek and began kneading, rubbing, squeezing, both of them…deliberately…obviously…
His tiny back hole was winking at me as I leaned forward, sticking out my tongue. I began moving it, tickling his balls with just the tip…ever so lightly.
He gasped and twitched…but didn’t resist…didn’t pull away.
Emboldened, I began lavishing them with the full length of my tongue. It was so sexy…his balls…my tongue. I couldn’t get enough! I washed every little bit of them I could reach, even leaning forward and probing his tiny pee hole with the tip of my tongue.
He gasped again and I went back to feasting on his balls, licking everywhere. I very gently sucked first one, and then the other into my mouth, running my tongue all around the warm soft flesh while my lips held him captive.
I moved my head up a little bit and began running my tongue up and down his crack, avoiding touching his actual little opening…waiting…waiting…waiting…until his hips started humping back against my face.
Only then did I curl my tongue into a point and probe right at his tiny hole.
He gasped again…and jerked.
My juices were flowing freely now, dripping down the insides of my thighs as I tried to push my tongue up inside his tiny opening. I swirled it all around the pink hole, licking…probing…pushing. His hips were rocking…mashing back against my face…my tongue…and I could hear his breathing start to become heavy.
I lowered my head again, lavishing his balls with my tongue, and then sucking the head of his penis between my lips.
He was moaning as I felt him start to swell in my mouth and ran my tongue in circles all around the smooth head of his growing organ.
I pulled my head away and put my hands on his hips. I twisted him around gently as I whispered, “Think it’s time for you to sit back up on the bed.”
Within a second or two, he was back up and sitting, reclining back on the edge of my bed. I knelt again quickly between his knees, spreading them apart with my hands. I reached forward and curled one hand into a loose fist, grasping his penis. I leaned forward, still staring…still somewhat in awe…at the magnificent sight right in front of my face.
The time for games was over.
I leaned forward and opened my lips, pushing forward until I felt the head of his penis hit the roof of my mouth. I held him there for a moment, swirling my tongue all around him. I started a stroking motion with my hand, and now could feel him quickly starting to swell and grow.
I removed my loose fist from his shaft and pushed my face all the way forward. I felt my lips mash his pubic hair as the head of his penis invaded my throat. I paused for just a moment, waiting for the gagging sensation to pass.
As soon as it did, I pulled my mouth back until only the smooth tip of his organ was between my lips. I moved forward again, delighting in the sensation of the head of his penis pushing into my throat.
I bobbed back and forth a few more times, then wrapped one hand again around the base of his shaft. My mouth and hand moved in unison as I felt him grow and harden.
His hips started to hump against my face as I dropped my free hand down between my legs, grasping my pussy.
I froze.
God, I was soaked!
The juices were literally running out of me, dribbling down my thighs. I didn’t care. I used a fingertip to start torturing my engorged clit as I bobbed my head and fist up and down the length of his throbbing hard on.
I felt his penis twitch and knew he was getting close. My finger was flying over my clit as I thought, “God…I want him to squirt…to shoot…I want to taste him…to drink him…”
Then another part of me objected, “NO!” I wanted more…I wanted…I wanted…
A tiny voice inside my brain screamed out, “Don’t even think about it girl…no pregnancies…no babies…”
The other half of my brain was screaming, “I don’t care! I want him!”
The argument was boiling in my brain as Brad’s hips started jerking against my face. His butt was all the way up off the bed as he thrust his penis between my willing lips.
“God what to do?” I thought to myself. My pussy was drenched, my clit throbbing as my finger flew faster and faster.
My mental “war” was interrupted by Brad croaking, “Why don’t you hop up here and turn around so I can play too?”
In a flash I was up on the bed, my knees straddling his shoulders. I started to lower my hips…my pussy…and then I felt his tongue tickling up and down the backs of my thighs.
“Oh God,” I thought to myself in a sudden flash of panic, “I hope he’s not grossed out.”
I could feel my juices running down my thighs, wet…sticky…
“What if it turns him off?” I worried to myself.
He stopped for a moment, and I was paralyzed. “That’s it,” I thought, “now you’ve done it…you grossed him out. You screwed up any chance…”
I forgot he was a god…
Seconds later, his tongue returned…not tickling this time…but lapping at my thighs like a dog starving for water.
Up and down…one and then the other…getting ever closer to…closer to…
I leaned down, again grasping the base of his penis in a fist and pushijng as much of it as I could into my mouth. I resumed my bobbing motion and felt his hips start humping again.
He was devouring my thighs with his tongue. He moved upward, his mouth…his tongue…roaming all over the cheeks of my butt. I felt him reach up and grasp my twin globes in his hands, spreading them apart.
I knew my tiny little back hole was now lewdly displayed, just inches in front of his face, and wondered if he was going to…going to…
My hips were rocking as my answer arrived just moments later. I felt the tip of his tongue start to tease lightly up and down my crack. At first, he didn’t touch my tiny opening, but teased all around it…getting ever closer and closer…
I felt another flood of juices wash out of my pussy. I was humping my butt back against his face…wanting his tongue to…to…to. His penis began twitching in my hand and mouth. God I wanted to taste him…but one of the little voices was still screaming, “No! You want more!”
The other little voice was still insisting, “No babies!”
His tongue finally…finally…touched my puckered hole and I gasped. I had to take my mouth off his penis, gasping for air, my hips bucking. His tongue…my tiny hole…it felt so delicious…so naughty.
I returned my mouth to his throbbing penis as his tongue began furiously lashing…licking…probing…my tiny back entrance. He continued this heaven for several moments, my butt pushing back against his face…trying to force his tongue inside me.
I felt him shift again, his tongue tickling lightly up and down the lips of my pussy.
My clit was screaming.
My hand and mouth were moving faster and faster on his rock hord organ as I mashed my pussy down against his face. I squirmed around, wiggling…trying desperately to get his tongue on my clit.
His mouth kept getting closer and closer to where I really wanted it. I was going crazy. I was sure my juices were flooding…drowning…his face.
Finally…finally…I felt pure bliss as the tip of his tongue brushed against my throbbing engorged clit.
I came.
No warning…no build up…I came…and came…and came…
I was moaning, gasping, whimpering as the wonderful waves washes through me. My juices gushed out between my legs as I felt his penis start to jerk. My knees clasped tightly around his head, imprisoning him, as I felt spasm after spasm shoot through me.
His penis jerked again, and I reached down a hand, gently cupping his balls. I could feel them starting to tighten…to contract. It was time…
I stopped…still wanting something more.
That little annoying voice inside my head was still insisting, “No babies!”
I was still gasping, my chest heaving, trying to suck air into my lungs when I felt his tongue return to my clit, lavishing warm strokes all over the tiny bud.
I came again.
“This isn’t happening,” I was thinking to myself, “twice in two minutes?”
As my breathing started to return to normal, I stared at his penis, inches in front of my eyes. It was throbbing, twitching, jerking. It looked like a piece of hard steel standing up between his legs. God I wanted it…wanted it…wanted it…in me…
The annoying voice in my head…denying me…
With a sudden flash of inspiration, I scrambled off of him, quickly moving to the other side of the bed. I got on my hands and knees, facing away from him. I spread my knees and pushed my butt up in the air. I moved a hand down between my legs and began suggestively running a finger up and down my drenched, dripping slit. I pushed a finger up inside of me, swirling it around. I pulled it out, wet with my juices, and pushed it against my little back hole.
I laid my head down on the pillow and took both hands, reaching around my hips and grasping my butt.
I looked back over my shoulder at him as I spread my cheeks as far as I could.
His eyes were glued to my rear as I hissed…
“Use this hole…”
(To be continued)

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Will’s new old home: Part 10

So Brook’s plan finally goes into action while Will has a little experience with Lynn, Amy get’s a big surprise, Rachel gives Brook the photos, Will and Brook do the nasty and it’s probably my longest story so far… but don’t be discouraged, there’s lots of erotic stuff in it, and you will be happy, very happy indeed!