by Fanee Sitter
But the moment doesn’t last long. When he catches the smugness of my expression his eyes turn to that familiar disdain. I’ll be punished for that, surely.
I’m still on my hands and knees catching my breath when he tells me, “Turn around.”
My whole body goes tense at his words. He can sense the fear behind my dilated pupils. Something is up and he knows it.
“I said turn around.” I nibble on my bottom lip to keep it from trembling. He’s going to find out that I took out the butt plug. He watches me with a deep suspicion as my eyes dart left to right while my mind searches desperately for a way out.
But there is no way out. The only thing for me to do is accept whatever punishment is coming.
“Yes, sir.” I scramble to turn myself on the carpeted floor until my ass is facing him, the skirt pulled tight at my thighs, barely covering the secret he is about to uncover.
One hand glides up the side of thigh, up into the heat between my legs. His knuckles brush the wetness seeping from my panties and my body shudders.
Then both hands scoop my skirt from underneath until it’s bunched around my waist. He tugs down the ripped lace panties to reveal my puckered asshole, the butt plug he had inserted and commanded me not to remove now absent.
“Funny, I could have sworn I told you not to take it out.”
“But, sir… I—“
“Shhh,” he says. “I don’t tolerate excuses from any of my employees, Ms. Palmer.” Mr. Black caresses my raw ass cheeks. There is nothing I can say, nothing I can do that will get me out of this. “Do you think, somehow, that you’re special?”
“No, sir, I don’t think—“
“Get up and drape yourself over my knees.”
“Yes, sir.” I get up and do as instructed, my limbs hanging at either sides of him. Mr. Black hovers a hand over my ass and watches me squint in anticipation of the pain to come, taking a certain enjoyment in seeing me squirm.
SMACK!
The first blow makes my legs flail in the air, the heel of one shoe hitting the desk and falling to the floor with a thud.
SMACK!
Mr. Black backhands my ass hard enough that the golden ring of his middle finger leaves an indent in the skin. He covers my mouth as I cry out and shut my eyes to stop the running mascara from going into my eyes. I shake my hand and pound my fists in the air like a girl having a tantrum. My bruised cheeks burn with the searing pain, yet my pussy aches for more.
SMACK!
SMACK!
SMACK!
Juices gush from my soggy pussy as each blow lands harder than the last. My legs tremble at the tingling pain that travels to every nerve ending and lingers. A firm hands glides over my crimson cheeks and grabs a handful of ass, squeezing so hard I just want to scream out but groan into his hand instead, my dark hair falling into a tangled mess over my face.
“Get up and put your hands on the wall.” He bucks his knee impatiently for me to get off, motioning to the glass pane open to an urban landscape. I know that I should respond but I’m too short of breath. I slide off him one leg at a time, barely able to stand, and make my way to the wall with slow, awkward steps.
I place both palms against the glass and use to it to support my weight with tits spilling out from my loosened blouse.
“Spread your legs.” Mr. Black asks, but spreads them for me instead. He grabs hold of either butt cheek and pulls them apart like his own personal fuck toy.
I gasp when his hard dick slips between my crack and my neck tilts back. My warm, shallow breaths fog up the glass as I brace myself from slamming against it. The slippery wetness of his precum mixed with my own saliva glides between my ass cheeks until he centers the head of his cock right at my tight, clenched asshole.
I desperately want to scream but can manage nothing more than a frail whimper. Mr. Black has never penetrated me like this before. The thought of him fucking me up the ass has my pussy quivering. My thighs are thoroughly drenched in a soggy wet sheen of my own excitement.
Red manicured nails scrape the thick sheet of glass and my jaw clenches; I can feel my asshole giving way to his enormous size. I bite down hard on my lower lip to stifle another scream before…
“Ungh!” I moan long and deep when he buries his dick into the smooth tightness of my ass, its walls clenching tight around every inch as it disappears into my tiny asshole. The butt plug had gotten me nice and ready to take him all inside. Immediately his cock begins to tremble inside me, his balls aching with another hot load, anxiously holding back so as to enjoy the pleasure of my tight asshole before cumming too soon.
“Agh—Fuck!” He moans. It’s truly the first time I’ve seen him lose his composure while inside me. I work my hips, trying to coax the cum from his dick just to be extra naughty. Mr. Black grabs me by the waist to stabilize himself, groaning as he pulls out, squeezing my ass tight the whole way.
“You just don't know when to quit, do you?” I shake my head in response, turning away from him so he can’t see my shit-eating grin of self-satisfaction. “Well, then…” Mr. Black’s cock slips between the folds of my dripping wet pussy. The head circles my entrance, teasing in and out, making me wild with lust. I can’t wait any longer. I don’t care what punishment it will mean for me later. I need him inside me. Now.
My pelvis juts backward on its own and my slick walls close around his member. Mr. Black grunts, yielding to the pleasure of the warmth and tightness engulfing his cock.
I can’t retrain myself from moaning out when my ass slams hard against his abdomen and his enormous cock bottoms out at my cervix. I swirl my hips with my back arched, riding the whole of his enormous cock while it hits my G-spot in perfect sync. I can feel the mounting climax deep within my core with an indescribable kind of intensity.
I throw my hair back and it clings to the sweat of my back. My body moves with passionate gyrations, working his cock like a true slut, coaxing him to cum inside of me while taking every ounce of pleasure from his dick for myself.
‘Shit—shit!” Mr. Black clutches my hair and pulls my head back. His cock throbs on the verge of orgasm, balls deep inside my tight pussy, ready to explode.
“Mmmm…” My tongue traces the edge of my lips and I can feel the thick spunk filling my insides. His cum triggers a new kind of euphoria that sends my whole body into a fit of orgasmic tremors. My hands slide along the glass wall leaving a fogged trail of sweat. He holds me by the small of the waist to keep me from collapsing as he erupts milky strings of hot cum into my depths. My heart flutters, swept up by a wave of euphoria while Mr. Black fills me with every last drop of his warm load.
I’m still shuddering on the floor in ecstasy after he drops me, a thin strand of jizz still connecting us when as he pulls out.
“That will be all, Ms. Palmer.” He fixes up his zipper and adjusts his tie, dismissing me like as nothing more than a filthy whore.
But I know that I mean more to him than he’ll ever admit. And I’m going to prove it.
I haven’t had a chance to tell him yet that I’ve been off my birth control for two weeks. Silly me, I must have forgotten!
I guess I’ll need to be thoroughly punished.
He Got Me Pregnant!
Babysitting is the easiest gig in the world for a broke eighteen-year-old. Three nights a week I get to lounge around on my neighbors' couch and watch television while their baby Charlie sleeps soundly in his crib.
Mr. And Mrs. Kent are totally loaded too, so they always have the really expensive ice cream bars with the rich chocolate and walnuts--my favorite! And of course, they also have the money to pay me quite generously for my babysitting time.
The two of them own their own business together, so they have time to go out on dates a few nights a week. It must be difficult to keep the romance alive when they have to work with each other every single day. And honestly, they seem pretty bored with each other after only a couple years of marriage.
If anything, Mr. Kent seems more interest
ed in me than his wife. Sometimes he's waiting on her to get ready for an hour after I've gotten there. He doesn't seem to mind though, and he likes to ask me all kinds of questions about my life in the meantime.
Mr. Kent seems genuinely interested in my future, even. When I told him I was thinking about taking a couple college classes over the summer, he offered to pay for them.
When I mentioned my interest in art, he told me about when he studied art anatomy as an elective back in his own college days. He said that he got so nervous and flustered around nude models that he ended up dropping the class.
He seems to really want me to pursue my passion for art. In fact, Mr. Kent even told me that I should be one of those nude models. Like where you just stand there naked in front of an audience while students attempt to draw your form perfectly.
Apparently, he thinks I have the ideal body for it--and it pays well, too! I guess that means he thinks I'm hot. And I have to admit that Mr. Kent is pretty hot, too.
He may be well into his forties, but makes an effort to keep himself in shape. If he ever misses going to the gym, he will even skip the date with his wife that night just to work out while she stays home. But he still pays me anyway.
Sometimes, after I've put Charlie to bed, I'll lie down on their living room couch and masturbate to the pictures of Mr. Kent I have saved on my phone.
Once I found the giant dildo they keep in the bedroom, I started using it to fuck my pussy while I held the pictures of him smiling at the camera.
Just the sight of Mr. Kent was enough to get me wet. My legs would be spread eagle while I slumped down into the beige couch cushions, still wearing a tight fitting tank top that showed off my tits.
I'd rub my clit with the tip of my middle finger while I pushed and pulled the dildo in and out, licking my lips at the thought of sucking Mr. Kent's big cock.
Then I would pull the dildo out of me and slurp on my dripping girl juices with lips painted red with Mrs. Kent's lipstick. My virgin pussy tastes sweet, and I know Mr. Kent would be quite pleased if he ever went down on me.
After that, I would drill the dildo into my tight hole with both hands around the back of the shaft until it bottomed out at my cervix. I'd get it so it was hitting just the right spot while my hips gyrated to the intense pleasure. Then my pace would pick up speed until I felt the warm tingle rising in my core.
Just before I came, I would yank the dildo out of me and rub my clit vigorously until it put me over the edge. My pussy would gush all over the side of the couch where Mr. Kent liked to sit as my body writhed and my mind went numb. I would pretend his head was buried between my legs as my girl juices made the cushion soggy.
There was a big stain on the couch now where I had masturbated so many times. I made sure to keep a throw pillow over the spot whenever I was done, and they had never asked me about it.
The truth is, I'd much rather be a stay-at-home mom and just paint as more of a hobby. I've always wanted to have a child of my own. Even with Charlie, I treat him like my own.
Every night, I sing little Charlie to sleep while I rock him in my arms. Then I'll just sit there and watch him, or I'll put my head to his chest and listen to him snoring softly. Sometimes I imagine that I am Charlie's mother putting him to sleep.
I want to take care of my baby during the day while the father works hard at his high paying job. And then I'll be ready and waiting every day he comes home to fuck me.
I want to be a mother who changes diapers, breast feeds her baby, and puts it down for long naps every day. My man would support us and I would keep him happy with my large breasts and round ass. Whatever he's into, I will oblige him and do my part as a good wife should.
And I want that so badly with Mr. Kent, though I could never tell him that up until now.
Mr. Kent had just invited me over to hang out together so we could talk more about my future and maybe watch a movie. He said he would pay me for my time anyway like always, so I didn't mind.
His wife had plans to meet with a client for dinner tonight, so we were going to be alone. It wouldn't surprise me at all if it turned out that Mrs. Kent was cheating. Lately she had been going out a lot with the same client who always seemed to have some important business matters to discuss.
But even if Mr. Kent was equally suspicious, he didn't seem that bothered by it. Instead, the two of us could have plenty of fun without her.
***
Before heading over to their house, I put on my favorite skimpy outfit with the pink tank top and matching short shorts that really make my ass look nice and tight. Then I used some more of the makeup stuff I stole from Mrs. Kent's vanity to get myself looking smoking hot.
It isn't exactly my plan to seduce Mr. Kent, but then, I'm not going to stop him if he decides he wants a piece of this, either. Looking in the mirror, I pinch an ass cheek and spank it hard. I bite my bottom lip and grin devilishly at myself.
When I get to their house, I see that Mrs. Kent's car has already left the driveway. I wonder if Mr. Kent ever told her I was coming over. Or maybe he planned to have her gone before I got there.
I tap against the large door with glossy manicured nails and jump slightly in surprise at how quickly it opens. Mr. Kent is standing there in front of me, his hair is styled and I get an instant whiff of his vanilla scented cologne.
It smells nice, even if he could do with a little less. Suddenly I'm feeling a lot less like just the babysitter, and more like Mrs. Kent going out on a date with her husband.
"Come--come in, Claire. Please," he says, smiling awkwardly and looking a little nervous.
"Don't worry, I'm not naked. You don't have to be nervous," I say, smirking a little and placing a hand gently on the side of his wide jaw. Then I giggle and prance my way into the house, making sure to wiggle my ass a bit as Mr. Kent closes the door behind me.
I enter the living room that's just inside and take a seat on the familiar spot of the couch. I cross my legs so my entire thigh and part of my ass is showing, then reach down for the remote atop the coffee table. While I'm bent over, my breasts hang and my low cut tank top exposes my gorgeous cleavage just for Mr. Kent.
"Shall we watch a movie?" I smile and look up at Mr. Kent walking over, still reaching for the remote. "Oh! How about some dessert to go with it?" I ask, leaving the remote and scurrying toward the freezer instead.
I return to the living room with a chocolate ice cream bar. "These are my favorite!" I say, acting giddy.
Mr. Kent has taken a seat on the couch, so I plop down right up against him.
"So, have you registered for those classes yet?" He asks, trying to strike a casual conversation while avoiding eye contact. My lips are wrapped around the tip of the ice cream bar while I'm beaming with innocent doe eyes.
"Not yet," I say, the words muffled by sucking. A thick glob of melted chocolate is dribbling down the corner of my mouth. If I could talk right now, I would probably tell him that I actually don't really care about college.
As nice as it was for him to offer to pay for my tuition, I'd much rather he just grab me by the ankles and fuck me right here on this couch.
Then I can beg for him to cum inside my tight little pussy and give me a baby like I've always wanted--a baby just like Charlie. I nibble at the inner ice cream layer of the bar as some of it oozes out of my puckered lips.
I lower my eyes to Jeremy's crotch and lick lustfully around my lips, lapping at the thick melted cream that is all down my chin. Mr. Kent looks restless.
"Want a bite?" I ask, patting him on the knee to get his attention.
"N--no thanks,"
"C'mon, try it!" I urge, shoving it in close to his face. Mr. Kent opens his mouth hesitantly, then takes a small bite at the soft end where I mouthed it. "Tastes good, doesn't it?" He nods and smiles at me, relaxing a little.
"You really are pretty, Claire." His gaze trails off again toward the static white of the television. "I wasn't kidding when I said that you should be one of those nude mod
els. Good artists do appreciate it when--"
"You really think so?" I interrupt. I glide the thick, pink nail of my index finger slowly down between the cleavage of my push-up bra. The motion in the corner of his eye gets him to turn back toward me biting one corner of my bottom lip.
His compliment has got my nipples turning hard. I take another bite of the ice cream bar and let a piece of chocolate fall to my breast.
“Oops!” I cry, scraping my finger gently to wipe it clean, leaving a tiny smudge of the chocolate there.
"I was thinking..." I start to say, noticing that Mr. Kent's eyes have drifted down to my breasts. "I was thinking I should let you see my whole body. Then you can tell me if I'm really cut out for modeling." He is unresponsive, remaining fixated on my tits.