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Subject: {ASSM} Jailbait and Switch (Mf, MF, MFf, Ff, exhib, oral, anal, cons, rom, caution)
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Jailbait and Switch
by Vulgar Argot
(Mf, MF, MFf, Ff, exhib, oral, anal, cons, rom, caution)

Michael had been working as a photographer's assistant for nearly
three years when Amanda walked into his life. He'd thought he had it
pretty good. Graduating from college with a degree in art history and
no idea what he wanted to do with himself, he'd pretty much stumbled
onto a convivially drunk John Powers at a party and been offered the
job in a burst of goodwill.

He hadn't realized how drunk the older photographer had been until he
showed up for work on Monday and John asked who he was. Michael
explained with some trepidation. John had been skeptical at first, but
after a cup of coffee and a conversation, he'd started to piece
together enough of his memory to realize that he had offered Michael a
job the night before. He didn't particularly need an assistant, but
was a man of his word.

Over the next few months, Michael had worked hard to prove himself a
worthwhile part of John's business. He cleaned the studio, prepared
the equipment, answered the phones, and did whatever it took to be
indispensable.

Even if he hadn't needed the money, which wasn't much, he would have
wanted to keep this job after the first week. While he'd had some
limited success with women during college, he'd never been surrounded
by so much female beauty as he was every day working with John.

Of course, he frequently reminded himself, these weren't legally women
for the most part. A few were--models who had worked with John for
years and only trusted him to work with them. But, most of the girls
he worked with were just that--girls, ranging from fourteen years old
on up. There were more than a dozen of them that worked with John.

Besides being underage, these girls were uniformly, heartbreakingly
beautiful. Any one of them would have driven him insane if he'd known
them when he was their age. As it was, he had a hard time remembering
how young they were far too often.

Once he realized what John did for a living, Michael thought it must
be some sort of seedy set up. But, he'd soon been disabused of that
notion. The girls were usually dropped off at the studio by their
mothers, who seemed to know and like John. More importantly, neither
John nor Michael was ever left alone with the models. Whenever they
were in the studio or on location, there was a chaperone along. More
significantly, the chaperone turned out to be John's wife. She may
have been half John's age, but that was still almost as old as Michael
himself--certainly old enough to be legal. Even so, surrounded by as
much pulchritude as she was, John's wife, Rachel, was stunningly
beautiful with Sephardic good looks and the dark hair and eyes that
went with them. She was pretty enough at unguarded moments, but when
she smiled, it was blinding. She was the most beautiful woman Michael
had ever seen.

That was until he saw Amanda. Rachel was the most beautiful woman he'd
ever seen. Amanda was the most beautiful woman he'd ever imagined. She
was the sort of woman men fantasized about. She walked in the door
with her hair in a ponytail and almost no makeup, but she was already
model beautiful.

Michael had been working at his desk in the studio when she came in.
There was nothing on the schedule today. So, he was catching up on
paperwork, filing, and that sort of thing. He'd dimly heard the
elevator doors open and close when she stepped out, but assumed it was
John or Rachel. She came right over in front of his desk and said,
"Hi."

Michael's head shot up from his work at the unexpected voice. And,
there she stood--the woman of his dreams. He'd never dreamed of her,
but knew immediately that he would.

Of course, she wasn't exactly a woman. Michael had gotten pretty good
at guessing girls' ages and pegged her at fifteen or sixteen. She was
barely over five feet tall, but had all the curves and valleys of a
full-grown woman. Strike that. She had all the curves and valleys
full-grown women prayed for. She was curvy and voluptuous and had the
high, firm, full breasts that no woman kept after the ripe old age of
twenty or so. What really made her gorgeous were her pouty,
unbelievably kissable lips.

"Uh, hi," he said, pleasantly surprised to find that he still had the
power of speech.

"Are you Mr. Powers?" she asked.

Michael wished he were. This vision wasn't here to see him. She was
here to see John.

"No," he said. "I'm Michael. John is scouting locations today. Can I
help you with something?"

She nodded and held out a hand to shake, "I'm Amanda. Mr. Powers told
me to come in today to do some portfolio work and audition for him."
 	
Michael frowned as he took her hand. It was warm, soft, and dry, "Are
you sure? He's driving down to DC tonight. I don't expect him in."

Amanda looked uncertain, then gave him a pretty frown, "No. I'm really
not certain. I'm afraid I do this sort of thing all the time." She
stamped her foot, "Dammit!"

Her features had clouded over. Combined with the permanent pout of her
lips, she looked like she might cry at any minute. Michael immediately
rose to reassure her, "Listen, I'm sure it was just a little mix up. I
can check his schedule for you."

Amanda nodded, "Would you please?"

Michael did, opening John's scheduler on his computer and searching on
her name, "Here it is," he said. "It looks like he's expecting you
next Monday."

Now, Amanda's eyes widened even as her expression got darker, "No.
That's can't be right. I can't wait another week for that portfolio
work. It cost a fortune for me to get to New York once. I'm staying
with friends. I have to go home in a few days." She started to sound
panicked.

Her panic was starting to become infectious, but Michael forced
himself to be calm, "Don't worry," he said. "I'll call John on his
cell phone. I'm sure he'll be able to find time for you tomorrow."

"You are?" Amanda asked, giving him a look of gratitude that almost
made him moan with the intensity of his body's response.

Michael wasn't really sure. John was swamped. But, he doubted the
photographer would want to let this one go, "Let me call him. Why
don't you sit down and relax?"

Amanda nodded and did as he suggested. Michael called John's cell
phone, but it went straight to voicemail.

"He's not answering," said Michael. "Listen, why don't you leave your
contact information and I'll get back to you as soon as I hear from
him."

"No," said Amanda. She was on her feet, holding him by the arms, "Is
there any way we can do this now?"

"What?" asked Michael. "You and me?"

Amanda nodded rigorously, "Yeah. Aren't you a photographer?"

For some reason, Michael didn't want to admit to only being an
assistant, so he just nodded, "But, I can't work with you without a
chaperone."

"I can chaperone," said the author, stepping out from behind the
scenery.

Both their heads spun around to see the newcomer, who seemed to have
materialized out of thin air.

"Who are you?" asked Michael. "How did you get in here?"

"I'm the author," said the author. "I wrote...or, more correctly am
writing this story."

"What story?" asked Amanda.

"This story," said the author. "The one you two are in. You don't
think this sort of thing happens in real life. Do you? If girls like
you really existed, half the men on the east coast would be in jail."

Amanda blushed at the compliment, "So, I'm not real."

The author shrugged, "Sorry. Worse luck, you're not even a
fully-formed story. I only wrote this piece so that the spammers who
use spiders and search bots to steal adult stories from free sites
like asstr.org and storiesonline.net and then repost them on sites
full of pop up ads, blind links, and, in some cases, spyware, trojans,
viruses and worse."

"Why would anyone do that?" asked Amanda.

"Good question," said the author. "They do it as a way to clutter
sites like Google and drive traffic to themselves."

Michael frowned, "Why would anyone bother to read these stories on
spammer sites if they can read them for free with no ads of any kind
on sites like asstr.org and storiesonline.net?"

The author chuckled, "It's probably because they don't know those
sites exist."

"We should educate them," said Amanda.

"I think we just did," said the author. "Listen, I've got to get back
to work on my real stories. You kids have a great time, though." His
eyes twinkled with barely-contained naughtiness, "After all, I wrote
you for that purpose."

"Wait!" said Amanda. "Are you God?"

The author laughed, "No. Actually, I'm an atheist. My name is Vulgar
Argot. But, just this once, I'm going to spell it Vlugaar Arogt so
that I can find this story later when scumbags steal it and get it
thrown off their ISPs."

Amanda grinned, "Pretty clever. But, once you leave, is the story just
going to end?"

"Not exactly," said the author. "You two will continue your story off
camera. The rest of the scenes in this will actually be from my other
stories. They're really only there to make sure I hit all the sex
keywords and lots of spammers troll this story into their archives."

"Thanks for providing a convenient explanation of our continued
existence," said Michael. "Such as it is."

"Yeah," said Amanda. "I appreciate it, Vlugaar."

The author turned and faced them and, with a snap of his fingers, was
gone.

                                           -=-

 From "Best & Brightest:"
                                           
Pearl rose, a crooked smile on her face, and walked around behind
Nuria. She stood a good nine inches taller than Nuria and had to bend
a knee to reach down and unhook the dress, "So," she said, lowering
the zipper, "Once you start thinking about sex, you just can't stop?"

Nuria started to answer, but felt Pearl's hands slide inside the
dress, rubbing the heels down from the corseting of the bra to where
her fingertips rested lightly on Nuria's bare bottom. Nuria closed her
eyes, "Don't do that," she rasped.

"Why not, Miss D?" Pearl asked, "Don't you like girls?"

Nuria leaned back against the taller girl, "I'm not up to being teased
tonight. I don't..."

"Who's teasing?" Pearl asked, her voice a hot puff against Nuria's
neck, "I don't know about you, Miss D, but I got pretty worked up
tonight. If Carla hadn't finally managed to hook up with that guy Emil
she's been talking about forever and needed a ride home, I would have
found myself a man, but I decided to be a good friend instead."

Nuria leaned farther into Pearl so that the taller girl's hands went
around her waist to the belly, her eyes still closed, "If you call me
Miss Delgado one more time, I will scream," she announced.

Pearl laughed and slid her hands free long enough to pull the straps
of the funeral dress off of Nuria's shoulders, letting it drop to the
floor.

"I shouldn't," Nuria whispered, "It wouldn't be fair to you. I'll
still probably sleep with Quentin. It's just..."

"I don't want to be your girlfriend," said Pearl, her fingertips
tracing lightly over Nuria's taut belly, "I'm not going to ruin
anything for you. Nobody needs to know what happens tonight except you
and me."

Finally giving up the fight, Nuria raised her arms, her hands finding
the back of Pearl's head, drawing her down into a kiss as she turned
in the younger woman's arms. She'd kissed girls before, gone much
farther than that. But, it had always been a show, a set piece for the
benefit of someone watching. Everything had been choreographed. This
kiss was not choreographed. It was primal and atavistic, an expression
of the evening's expectation and frustration. Pearl kissed her back
just as fiercely, her hands roaming freely up and down on Nuria's
body. Even as Nuria reached up to unzip Pearl's dress, she said
nervously, "I still prefer men, you know."

"Me, too," said Pearl, kissing Nuria's shoulder as she began to undo
the series of clasps that kept Nuria's bra on, "But there's only one
in the apartment and I don't think Carla's in a sharing mood,
tonight."

"After you gave her a ride home, too," mocked Nuria as she lowered
Pearl's dress, "Some friend." She placed a line of kisses on Pearl's
sternum and stomach, stopping at the line of her friend's panties,
"I've never actually...I mean not for...not in a results-oriented sort
of way."

Pearl laughed, drawing Nuria up into another kiss, "Take notes, then.
There will be a test later." She pushed Nuria, now completely naked,
back on the bed. She kissed Nuria's throat and neck, traced a line
down one side of the collarbone. By the time that her mouth reached
Nuria's nipple, Pearl's fingers had traced up her thigh and now teased
the darker woman's clit with her fingertip. Nuria, already wet with
anticipation, sighed and pushed against Pearl's finger and mouth.

"Careful," said Pearl, brandishing her free hand to display
freshly-enameled red nails, "If I don't take it slow, I could scratch
you up pretty bad and you wouldn't feel the worst of it until
tomorrow."

Nuria nodded. With one hand, she pushed Pearl's head back down to her
breast. Pearl's other hand massaged Nuria's other breast. Already,
Nuria felt the last of her control slipping away. Her emotional miasma
drained away in a wave of gratitude. She now admitted to herself that,
at soon as Pearl had knocked on the door, she'd entertained the idea
of seducing her roommate. Without this, she would have been miserable
and frustrated for days. Nothing she could have done for herself would
have mattered much. Only real, human contact could do that.

As Nuria lay there, her hips rising and falling gently, Pearl's mouth
traced down her ribs and belly. Nuria began to breath more heavily in
anticipation. Pearl, perhaps sensing it, teased her, placing a ring of
kisses from the top of Nuria's public triangle, across both thighs and
back. When Pearl's tongue darted out and licked her perineum, Nuria
moaned loudly and, with the hand she had let restr on the back of
Pearl's head, guided her tongue inside of herself. The pleasure was
intense and immediate, exploding outward like a starburst.

Pearl pulled away, "Easy, hon. You're going to break my nose. You're
like a teenaged boy."

"Sorry," said Nuria, forcing her hand to relax, "It's just..."

"It's flattering," said Pearl dismissining Nuria's concern, "just take
it nice and slow. We've got all the time in the world." She licked
Nuria playfully, letting her tongue probe deeply, briefly causing
Nuria's to spasm in surprise and pleasure.

"Two years is a long time," said Nuria by way of explanation. Then,
she found herself unable to speak as Pearl's tongue expertly found
another delicate spot inside of her. Nuria found herself reaching
desperately for a pillow so as not to disturb Carla or the neighbors
or people down at street level for that matter. Even moaning into the
pillow, it came back to her frightfully loud. She writhed hard, her
body arching as if an electrical current were running through it. Her
orgasms came hard, one after the other, like tiny starbursts
originating wherever Pearl's tongue touched her.

It was over too soon, Nuria thought, but a glance at the clock told
her differently. Pearl lay next to her, her head on Nuria's belly, her
fingertip still gently stroking her clit. Nuria looked at her roommate
and pet her damp hair, "You poor thing. Your jaw must be ready to fall
off."

Pearl chuckled, "I do my best work with an enthusiastic audience. Did
you take notes?"

Nuria smiled, "I didn't have time to study, but I'll do much best."
She guided Pearl up to lie next to her on the narrow bed, their bodies
pressed together by necessity and affection. Pulling Pearl's head to
hers, she kissed her friend deeply and passionately, subtly taking the
lead. She ran her hand down Pearl's back, across her belly, up to her
breast. She chuckled throatily to herself. She would kill to have
Pearl's breasts. She felt almost boyish next to her friend. Lowering
her head to Pearl's nipple, she licked and sucked. Pearl sighed with
pleasure. Nuria nipped at her playfully and was rewarded with a gasp.
Her fingers found their way down between Pearl's legs and she slid one
in up to the knuckle while another traced lazily along the clit. Pearl
began to writhe appreciately, making little animal noises in the back
of her throat. Pearl's hand snaked back towards Nuria's pubic
triangle, but Nuria slapped it away.

"If you do that," Nuria said, "I'm never going to be able to
concentrate on what I'm doing."

Pearl chuckled, "Always the perfectionist."

Her mouth at Pearl's waist, Nuria hesitated, kissing just above the
hairline, then around it. Faced with the actual task, she found it
rather daunting. After a minute or so of teasing, she felt Pearl's
hand on the back of her head, guiding her insistently downward.
Despite her nervousness, she soon found her rhythm. Realizing that she
didn't require pinpoint accuracy, she gave into her enthusiasm,
bringing a finger in and out while she kissed and sucked the clit.
Pearl was soon moaning loudly, bucking against her. Feeling daring,
Nuria teased a second finger into Pearl's anus. Pearl wrapped her legs
around Nuria's shoulders, locking her ankles together. Pearl's thighs
wrapped around Nuria's ears so hard that she had to pull away.

"Easy," said Nuria gently, smiling, "or one of us is coming out of
this injured." Pearl nodded, her eyes glistening. Nuria returned to
what she was doing. Pearl's whole body was trembling with pleasure
again. By the time Nuria finished with her, Pearl was drenched in
sweat, her hair plastered to her face. Nuria wrapped herself aroudn
Pearl, arms around her neck, legs around her thigh. Before she rested
her head on Pearl's solar plexus, she licked off the sweat pooled
there. She lay there for a long time, listening to Pearl's heart and
feeling the aftershocks of pleasure as they raced through the blonde's
body.

"Earlier," said Pearl, just as Nuria was starting to doze off, "I
thought you were exaggerating when you said you could scare a man away
by throwing yourself at him. You really don't hold anything back, do
you?"

Nuria who hadn't meant she would scare Quentin away like that at all,
smiled at the compliment nonetheless. Before she could formulate her
response, she was asleep.

                               -=-

 From "What's Wrong With Anne Turing:"
                               
The new man tracked her with his eyes. She turned to him. "Dr. Horton,
I think I'm having blackouts."

He took a penlight out of his bag, walked up to Anne, and shone it in
her eye. She backed up, startled, until she was pressed against her
desk.

Dr. Horton smiled at her. "Just try to relax. What's your name?"

"Anne Turing," said Anne. As she said it, she slid up so she was
sitting on the edge of the desk.

"Anne, you're burning up," said Dr. Horton. He picked up the black bag
and set it on the desk next to her. Drawing out a thermometer, he
said, "Open wide."

Anne nodded and spread her legs, trapping him between them. "Oh God,
Jonathan. I was beginning to wonder if anyone was going to ask."

Dr. Horton shook his head. "I meant 'open your mouth.'"

"Oh," said Anne, smiling widely. "I understand now. She slid off the
desk, dropping to her knees. Her hands undid Dr. Horton's zipper,
stripping down his pants and underwear with practiced ease. He sprang
to arousal immediately. Anne took him into her mouth, running her
tongue up and down the bottom of his member.

"Ungh," said Dr. Horton. He tried to pull away from Anne's mouth, but
she laid her hands on his buttocks, pushing his cock into her throat.

"Anne," he moaned, "you have to stop this. You've got a very high
fever. You've obviously delirious."

Anne pulled him out of her mouth long enough to shake her head, "I'm
in optimum physical condition and no immediate danger. I just really
need this." Then, she took him into her throat again. He struggled for
a few more seconds, but Anne knew she was very capable and fairly
irresistible. Soon, he was thrusting back against her face as she
sucked him.

When she felt he was close to finishing, Anne took him out of her
mouth and stood up. "Would you like to fuck me?" she purred.

Dr. Horton nodded, drawing her to him, unzipping her skirt. Anne
giggled, "Would you like to see my breasts? Even when you thought I
was dying, you couldn't keep your eyes off them." When he nodded, Anne
slid up her lime green top. She knew she had the sort of breasts men
dreamed about. The sight of them even made Dr. Horton forget about
fucking her for a few minutes while he lowered his head to kiss and
lick them. Anne moaned and gasped while he did it.

"You really should..." said Dr. Horton, "wear a bra to work."

Anne giggled. "I would, Jonathan, but I don't seem to own any."

For some reason, that seemed to arouse Dr. Horton even further. He
spun her around, bending her over the desk and dragging her panties
down. Anne spread her legs to be entered. He obliged her, burying
himself between her legs. Anne drove back against him as he plunged
into her.

"Oh, God," Anne growled, "fuck me hard." By that point, Dr. Horton
needed no encouraging. He was pounding into her. Anne found herself
coming almost immediately. She realized now that a lot of her
uneasiness since starting this job was the sense that she should be
having sex and no one was having sex with her. She relished the feel
of Dr. Horton's hard cock inside her. She was enjoying it so much
that, as he neared climax, she tightened her muscles against him,
forcing some pressure out of his engorged member until he pushed away
from the edge of orgasm.

"You know," gasped Anne, "you can fuck me any way you like."

Dr. Horton nodded, pulling out just long enough to take her anally.
Anne continued to gasp and moan, careful to keep the sounds modulated
enough that people working in the next offices wouldn't hear her.

This time, when Dr. Horton neared orgasm, Anne sensed that stopping
him again would probably cause him to finish in disappointment.
Instead, she bucked against him, whispering, "Oh, Jonathan, you're
amazing." He came hard inside her, panting her name.

Dr. Horton was just standing up, looking dazed when Doctors Garvin and
Andrews came strolling in. The jovial look on Dr. Garvin's face
disappeared when he saw the tableau. Anne leapt up from the desk to
close the door behind them, pulling up her panties as she went.

When she had closed the door, she turned around and asked, "So, are
all of you going to fuck me today?"

                                            -=-
                                            
 From "Stone Fox:"

At her back door, Linnea turned to face him, "Thank you for walking me
home, Stephen."

Stephen leaned down, drawing her to him. Linnea was startled, but
didn't protest as he kissed her. She didn't commit to the kiss either,
refusing to melt against his body.

When he took a breath, Linnea said, "Stephen." There was a hint of
real alarm in her voice. He didn't seem to be listening. He leaned
down and kissed her again. With one hand, Linnea clutched him to her.
With the other, she pounded ineffectually on his shoulder.

When he let her go again, Linnea said, "Stephen, I can't."

There was laughter in Stephen's eye, but something far more dangerous
too, "Why not?"

"You're too young," Linnea said, expressing the first thought in her
head. She knew how weak it sounded after what she'd already done
tonight.

Stephen must have known, but he didn't take that approach, instead
saying, "That's not really a disadvantage in this sort of thing" as he
gently pushed her back against the wall, leaning down for another
kiss.

Linnea placed her hand on his chest, "Stephen, how would I ever face
your parents?"

He kissed her forehead, "My father is ten years older than my mother.
I suspect they would understand."

"Stephen," Linnea said, sliding down the wall until she found the
doorknob and opened the door, "I really can't."

Slipping inside, she thought for a moment that she was safe, but
Stephen followed her in, closing the door behind him. For a moment,
Linnea thought that Stephen was no longer interested in getting her
consent. He breath caught in her chest."

"Please, Mrs. Madison," he said, his voice ragged. "Don't send me
away."

Linnea looked up into his eyes, "Stephen..."

Stephen straightened up, turning back towards the door, dejection
already clear in his posture.

She took his arm, turning him back towards her, "I think you should
call me Linnea."

Stephen drew her up fiercely into his arms, kissing her as her feet
dangled below. Linnea moaned, her hands pressed against his chest
through his t-shirt. She groaned in release.

Pinned against the wall in her back hallway, Linnea closed her eyes
and felt Stephen raining kisses on her neck and shoulders. There was
no patience to him. His hands were already stripping off her sweater
and tank top. Linnea reached back to undo her bra, but his hands were
faster, undoing the clasp and pulling away the fabric.

He lowered his head to one breast and then the other, kissing and
licking her nipples. She couldn't remember the last time anyone had
touched her with such ardor.

"Linnea," he gasped. "Oh God, Linnea. I can't tell you how long I've
wanted to do this."

She pressed his head to her, encouraging him to kiss and stroke her
breasts. Already, the cumulative effect of the evening was catching up
to her. Linnea's pace was quickening. Her body was aching for release.
Reaching down, she undid his belt and pants, reaching in to stroke his
cock.

Stephen caught her wrist, "If you keep doing that, I'm not going to
get through this."

Linnea smiled, "You're young. You'll recover." Before Stephen could
answer, she'd turned them around so that he was leaning against the
wall and was stripping off his pants and underpants. He tried to catch
her hair and stop her, but Linnea was determined to take him into her
mouth. Once she had, the fight went out of him. He lay one hand
lightly on the back of her head, urging her forward.

Linnea didn't need much urging. It had been a long time since she'd
wanted to do this for anyone. Licking him from the base of the shaft
to the base of the head, she cupped Stephen's balls in her hand. Her
technique came back to her quickly. It was a good thing too because it
didn't take long before he exploded into her mouth, a groan of
pleasure and release coming to his lips.

Linnea rose, wiping her lips with the back of her hand as she
swallowed. Before she could say anything, Stephen's powerful arms were
around her, lifting her.

"Stephen," Linnea said, startled and a little bit panicked. But, he
wasn't listening. He carried her up the hall into her bedroom, laying
her flat on her bed.

"God, Stephen," Linnea said, laughing.

"I want you, Linnea," he said earnestly. "I can't wait to be inside of
you." Even as he spoke, he was stripping off the rest of her clothes.
Stroking her breasts briefly with his hands again, he knelt on the
floor.

Linnea had only a moment to brace herself as she felt Stephen kissing
the inside of her knee, then her thighs. Then, her tongue was inside
of her, alternately probing and teasing her clit.

That was all it took. Linnea felt her body begin to shake with waves
of pleasure. She'd been close to the edge for a long time. Stephen
slid a finger, then a second one inside of her. Linnea moaned and
squirmed against him.

"Oh, God...Stephen," she moaned, not laughing this time.

"You're going to get it now, Lin," he said. "If you'd let me have you
in the hallway, it could have been over quickly. Now, I'm going to
take my time with you."

Linnea did laugh then. Doing her best impression of a movie heroine,
she said, "Do your worst."

Stephen slid one finger out of her, teasing it against the entrance to
her ass.

Linnea's eyes widened, "Stephen," she squealed.

Stephen kissed her belly, "That's not even close to my worst." Linnea
shuddered, both at the tone of his voice and at the insistence of his
finger, sliding past her sphincter. Hal had never entered her like
that.

For a long time, Linnea just lay there, trembling as he let his
fingers penetrate her from both sides while his tongue teased her
clit. She was coming as hard as she could ever remember coming, her
hands tugging on Stephen's hair, nails digging into his scalp. It was
all she could do not to hurt him.

When his fingers finally slid out of her, Linnea thought she was
getting a reprieve, but he lifted her hips, pulling her to his face.
When his tongue slid past her sphincter, she cried out in disbelief,
then pleasure. After a few seconds, she forced herself to relax and
let the sensation wash over her.

"Stephen," Linnea heard herself begging, "please fuck me. I need you
inside of me."

Stephen stood up enough to look into her eyes, "Soon enough, Linnea."

"God," she cried out, partly in exasperation, "I don't remember boys
your age having so much patience."

Stephen smiled down at her, "I waited years for this. What's another
hour or two?"

Linnea sat up on her elbows, alarmed, "Hours?"

Stephen grinned wickedly, realizing that she'd fallen for his joke.
Linnea grabbed the back of his head, kissing him ferociously, pulling
him down on top of her. She could feel his cock, hard against her leg.

"Fuck me," she begged again.

Stephen put his hand between her legs, stroking her again. Linnea,
already feeling weak with pleasure, spread her legs even wider,
wrapping them around his waist, trying to pull him inside of her.

Stephen's grin was positively wicked, "Who's the impatient one,
Linnea?"

She growled at him, nails digging into his buttocks, "Fuck me."

Finally, Stephen complied, driving into her. Linnea cried out in
pleasure and triumph. As patient as Stephen had been a few minutes
earlier, he pounded into her now with urgency, as if he thought that
he could possess or destroy her by doing so.

Linnea was beyond words now. She made animal noises, grunting and
squealing as Stephen claimed her. He didn't seem to be much more
controlled. As hard as he pounded into her, she wanted more. Her hands
held his buttocks. Her hips rose to meet him.

As Stephen had warned her, the release the Linnea had given him had
dissipated much of his urgency. As ferocious as he was, it went on for
a long time. Both of them were drenched in sweat when Linnea looked up
at him, "What's going to happen if you don't get back to your party?"

Stephen laughed, slowing his pace, but still inside of her, "It's
their graduation too. Mike Woodhead promised to douse the fire before
he left if I hadn't. Not getting bored with this, are you?"

Linnea laughed, "God, no. But, I am going to be sore tomorrow."

Stephen reached down, stroking her rosebud again, "We could always try
another angle."

Linnea closed her eyes, her breathing shallow, "I've never done that
before."

"We don't have to..."

"No," she whispered. "I'd like to try."

Stephen nodded, sliding out of her. In spite of herself, Linnea
whimpered at the loss. Stephen lifter her, piling pillows below her
hips before turning her over.

"Take it slowly," she whispered.

Stephen laid on top of her, stretching out to retrieve a bottle of
Vitamin E oil she'd been using to soften a scar on her elbow from her
side table. He held it up, "Can I use this?"

"What for?" Linnea asked before his wicked grin told her exactly what
is was for. A few second later, she felt his oily finger probing its
way inside of her, slipping easily inside her bottom. Even the process
of oiling her up was almost more pleasure than Linnea thought she
could bear.

"Oh, God," she said weakly.

A couple of minutes later, she felt the finger withdraw.

"Start gently," she begged.

Stephen kissed the back of her head, nodding against her. Then, Linnea
felt the head of his cock pressing against her, insistent. In spite of
herself, she tensed against him. With all of the oil, he slid in
anyway. Linnea gasped and moaned at the same time as he began to rock
against her, slowly moving in and out.

"Oh, God," she cried out, grabbing the headboard with both hands. "Oh,
Stephen."

Stephen was impatient again. Linnea thought she was going to have to
beg him to take it slower, but suddenly the pain and pressure began to
subside, leaving only pleasure.

For a long time, neither of them spoke. The only sound was the creak
of the bedsprings, the occasional moans and gasps of pleasure, and the
distant pounding of the bass. When Linnea felt Stephen growing larger
inside of her, she knew it wouldn't last much longer.

Leaning back, she nipped playfully at his earlobe, then whispered
throatily, "Come inside of me." That was all that it took. Stephen
came hard, filling her with hot seed, crying out as if it hurt almost
as much as it felt good.

Afterwards, they lay, locked together for as long as possible. When
Stephen finally shrunk out of her, she turned in his arms, nestling
against his damp chest, licking the sweat off of it. With a naughty
chuckle, she said, "Thank you, Stephen."

Stephen laughed, "Any time, Linnea."

When Stephen's breathing had slowed to sleep, Linnea wriggled out of
his arms, intent of getting in the shower before she fell asleep.
She'd only been under the hot jets a few minutes when he pulled back
the shower curtain and stepped in behind her.

Taking the soap from her, Stephen lathered her up, stroking her body
from neck to knee. As Linnea rinsed herself off, she realized with
disbelief that he was fully erect again behind her. Before she could
commend, his hand was between her legs, spreading her open. He entered
her without preamble.

Linnea closed her eyes and braced herself against the wall as he
claimed her again. It was over relatively quickly, but not before her
body was again trembling with the pleasure of it.

"God, Stephen," she said after he came. "You're going to kill me."

"I hope not," he said, chuckling.

                                 -=-
                                 
 From "Double Dealing:"

"I think," he said menacingly, "that a penalty needs to be assessed."

"What?" asked Devon, suddenly alert.

"Michelle is dealing to herself from the bottom of the deck," said
Sebastian, "That's why she suddenly got really good at poker all of a
sudden."

"I am not," said Michelle indignantly.

"No?" said Sebastian, "Then, let's see your hand. And, let's see the
three cards on the bottom of the deck."

"You're disrupting the hand," said Michelle, her tone desperate.

"Fine," said Sebastian, "If I'm wrong, I'll take a penalty myself.
Your choice. But, I'm not wrong, am I?"

Devon reached over and flipped over Michelle's face-down hand. It was
a pair of fours. Then, he took the deck from her hand. Flipping it
over, he dropped the three bottom cards on the felt. They were the
other two fours and a seven.

"Vote," said Sebastian, his voice ringing like a gavel.

"Guilty as hell," said Devon.

"No question," said Sakura, "Caught red handed."

"Sebastian, what penalty do you suggest?" asked Devon.

"I say she forfeits all her clothes," said Sebastian. He still hadn't
let go of her wrist.

"Hey," said Sakura, "I had to give a lap dance. I say she forfeits all
of her clothes and has to give each of us a timed lap dance."

"I can still back out, right?" asked Michelle, smiling nervously.

"No," said Sakura emphatically.

"It is the will of this court," said Devon gravely, "based on the
heinous nature of your crimes, that you forfeit all of your clothes.
You may removed your shoes and socks yourself. Each remaining article
of clothing will be removed for you by one of us. Then, you will give
each of us a timed lap dance."

Michelle looked back and forth among the three of them, "Guys..."

"Strip," said Devon.

Michelle sighed, then leaned down and stripped off her shoes and
socks. When she stood back up, Devon was behind her. He undid the snap
of her bra. As he pulled it off of her, his hands covered her small,
firm breasts, massaging them a little before letting them go. Michelle
closed her eyes and sighed with pleasure.

Then, Sakura slinked over to her. Standing in front of Michelle, so
close they were almost kissing, she undid the snap of Michelle's pants
and unzipped them. Then, her hands circled around Michelle's waist.
When she slid the pants down, she did it with her whole body. her
hands flowing over the curve of her. In the shadows, Sebastian
couldn't see what she did with her mouth, but Michelle shuddered in
pleasure and bit her fist.

"There will be no further fist biting," said Devon, "or additional
penalties will be assessed."

Then, it was Sebastian's turn. He'd wanted Michelle for so long that
it had become a dull, background ache. It flared up now. Trembling
almost as much as she was, he stood directly in front of her, towering
over her by almost a foot. She tilted her head back, staring up at him
with liquid black eyes. Sebastian stared at them for a long moment,
seeking any sign of betrayal or pain. But, all he saw was anticipation
and maybe a little bit of fear.

Going down on one knee so that he was face-to-face with her, he
grasped the sides of Michelle's panties. She closed her eyes.
Emulating Sakura, he let his whole body move as he stripped them off,
his hands cupping and kneading her ass and legs while he went, his
face so close to her that his nostrils were filled with the scent of
her excitement. After she had stepped out of the panties, he rose,
trailing fingertips up the inside of her thigh, pressing them gently
against the entrance to her flesh as he passed the apex of her legs
with them. Michelle's knees gave way, but Devon was there to catch
her.

"Now," said Devon, leading her over to an overstuffed recliner, "The
lapdances."

Michelle sat on Devon's lap and immediately started to kiss him. Devon
grasped her hair, pulling her back away from the kiss and spinning her
around so that she faced away from him.

"Kissing up to the judge is not going to reduce your sentence,"
growled Devon in her ear, "Now, dance for me."

Nodding, Michelle began to undulate, sliding up and down Devon's lap.
Sebastian began to realize that there was an art to the lapdance, one
Michelle was clearly learning as she went along. He made a mental note
to ask Sakura where she'd picked up such a skill.

Devon's hands stroked Michelle's belly, her arms, her legs, and
finally her breasts. Both were breathing shallowly now. Down to his
boxer shorts, Devon was soon poking out of them, his glans rubbing
against Michelle on each pass. She tried to impale herself on him, but
he wiggled out of the way again and again.

When the hourglass had run out, Sakura said, "My turn."

Devon rose, picking up Michelle in his arms as he went. Michelle
wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her head in his shoulder,
like he was rescuing her. But, a minute later, she was lowered into
Sakura's lap, again facing away.

As soon as she began to move, Sakura reached up and began to fondle
Michelle's breasts. She was much less gentle than Devon, squeezing and
even twisting the nipples, causing Michelle to cry out in pleasure.

"No," said Michelle, her body arching as Sakura pinched both nipples
at once, "too much."

Sakura let one hand float down to Michelle's belly, the other drifting
between her legs and stroking. Michelle began to moan loudly, writhing
with pleasure as Sakura's fingers expertly probed her depths. Her
whole body was shuddering now, the muscles in her legs and jaw taut,
firelight reflecting off of the sweat she was covered with.

For a long time, Sakura expertly molested her, groping stroking and
teasing. To Sebastian, it appeared that Michelle was having one
continuous orgasm, her whole body shaking violently. Sebastian glanced
at the empy hourglass, then at Devon. Devon put a finger to his lips
and turned the hourglass over.

When Sakura finally rose from the chair, Michelle just slumped into
it. Devon lifted her roughly into the air.

"Your turn, chief," said Devon to Sebastian. He indicated the chair
with a head motion. Sebastian sat down. Devon placed Michelle almost
delicately in Sebastian's lap, facing him.

By now, Michelle had really gotten the hang of lap dancing. She slid
all over Sebastian's lap, her hands stroking his chest. Sebastian's
own hands stroked her buttocks, her back, her shoulders, then ran down
over her breasts before landing on her inner thighs.

Michelle wrapped an arm around Sebastian's head, putting her breasts
in his face. She whispered his name, loudly enough for everyone in the
room to hear. But Sebastian found he was paralyzed. He couldn't touch
her the way she was begging to be touched. Michelle looked down at
him. He looked up with pleading and fear in his eyes. There was a
momentary flash of compassion in hers, then she pivoted on his lap,
facing away from him.

Grinding herself into his groin, she reached up and very deliberately
bit her fist at Devon.

Devon's response was immediate, "Sakura, remove the prisoner's fist
from her mouth."

Sakura climbed up on Sebastian's lap, facing him and Michelle. Taking
Michelle's wrist, she pulled the hand to her side. Then, she leaned in
and kissed Michelle full on the mouth, grinding up against her, a lap
dance within a lap dance. As she did so, she took Sebastian's hand and
guided it between Michelle's thighs. Sebastian plunged his fingers
into Michelle, who spread her legs wider to allow them entrance.

"Oh, God," she cried out. Again and again, she cried it out. Sakura
slid down from the chair, kneeling in front of it, kissing Michelle's
thighs and Sebastian's hand until he moved it out of the way and she
could slide her tongue deep inside of Michelle.

Michelle bucked again until Sebastian grabbed her hips with his hands,
forcing her to hold still under the onslaught of Sakura's tongue.
Michelle was coming so hard that tears were rolling down her cheeks
now.

Devon stepped up, naked now. Standing next to the chair, he took the
back of Michelle's head, driving it onto his cock. She sucked
greedily, staring up at him as he thrust against her throat.

In the meantime, Sakura had reached under Michelle and managed to undo
Sebastian's pants. Sebastian rose enough that she was able to strip
them off of him. When he came down, Michelle was poised, trembling, on
his glans. He grasped her hips again, driving her down onto him.
Michelle arched like she had been struck by lightning. Sebastian drove
her hips up and down on him. She cried out wordlessly at the pleasure
of it.

Now, Sakura was sitting on Sebastian's lap again, balancing on his
shoulder. She took Devon's cock at the base and slid it out of
Michelle's mouth, kissing her passionately. When she came up for air,
she was still holding Devon's cock. She looked at Sebastian, the
question obvious in her eyes. Devon reached up with his free hand,
taking the back of Sakura's head and guiding it down onto Devon. She
sucked at him hungrily, her head rising and falling in a fast rhythm.
Devon wrapped both arms around the back of her head, hugging her to
him. It didn't take long for him to explode inside of her mouth, a
strangled cry of pleasure emerging from his lips.

Sakura stood to plant kisses on Devon's chest. When she did, Sebastian
lifted Michelle off of his lap, stood up, carried her to where the
sleeping bags were laid on the floor, and sat back down. When he
lowered her onto himself, it was to take her anally this time. As much
as he'd pleasured her so far, he knew from their long talks that this
would break her.

Michelle came almost immediately as she sat, facing away from
Sebastian, taking him completely inside. Sakura crawled over on her
belly, sliding her tongue inside of Michelle from the front. Michelle
clawed at the air as she came, like a cat who couldn't reach her prey.

Devon came up behind Sakura, crawling on his belly as well. From the
look on her face and the mewling sounds she was making, Sebastian knew
that Devon must be getting at her with that magic tongue. Soon, Sakura
lost the ability to concentrate on what she was doing and sat up
straighter, letting Devon ravish her with his tongue. The sight almost
made Sebastian come, but he bore down and soon the urge had passed.

When Sakura finally rolled away, Devon slid forward. Spreading
Michelle's legs out to the sides, he took her from the front while
Sebastian continued to take her from the rear. As they whipsawed her
back and forth, Sakura crept up shakily and began kissing all three in
turn on the mouth.

Sebastian came inside of Michelle, a cry of pleasure ripping free from
his throat. As he slid out, Devon laid her flat on her back and began
to pound into her more vigorously. She wrapped her legs around his
waist, pushing him even deeper.

Devon and Sakura sat, trembling and staring at each other across the
void of three feet. Then, Sebastian reached out for her, drawing her
to her feet, kissing her, licking and stroking her all over. He was
still half-erect when she whispered in his ear, "Take me like you took
her...both of you."

Sebastian pushed her back to the poker table, bent her over the felt,
and entered her anally, fully erect as soon as Sakura had spoken. He'd
had such mixed result with suggesting this act to other women in the
past that he hadn't broached the subject yet. This was unexplored
territory for him. He pounded into her, shaking the table and spilling
chips onto the floor. Michelle was lying on her back, legs spread, too
spent to even look up. Devon watched them hungrily. Sebastian waved
him over. Again, they repeated their dance, this time with Sakura
between them. She cried out over and over again, begging them to fuck
her harder and faster. Sebastian and Devon came inside of her more or
less simultaneously and the three sank to the floor together. Michelle
dragged herself across the sleeping bags until she was wrapped around
them too, one arm on Sebastian's neck, her mouth kissing his.

They fell asleep like that, naked, sprawled and tangled in front of
the fire, each touching all of the others. None of them bothered to
climb into a sleeping bag until well past dawn. None bothered to climb
out until they heard the fuel truck pull up and a knock on the door
from the driver. When Sebastian slid out of the bag and into his pants
to stagger to the door, he couldn't say for sure who had been in the
bag with him. Soon enough, he would have to figure it out. But, he
decided that at least for today, it didn't matter so much.
--Vulgar Argot
  http://storiesonline.net/library/author.php?id=2020
--
"Vulgarity begins when imagination succumbs to the explicit."
  --Doris Day

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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