The Pact

Episode 3: Interventions

Jump to:Chapter 2
Table of Contents
Return Home
Copyright © 2009 The Thinking Horndog

Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyrighted with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. Reproduction for profit is forbidden. Any distribution must include this note and the author's email address. Don't be caught attempting to make a buck off me!

Warnings and disclaimers:

This is adult entertainment! Be warned! If you're not into graphic depictions of sex, this is the wrong story for you! If you're too young to be legally reading this, move along!

This is a work of fiction. It is not intended to reflect any particular person or persons, and the incidents portrayed exist in their current form solely in the writer's imagination. You get the idea.



Chapter 1

Content: mf 1st ir

When Tabitha got home Sunday evening, Big Momma was just coming down from her buzz, lounging on the couch. The fact that her eldest girl hadn't been around all day let her extend the party, so she was juicy and had a nickel bag to keep her happy for a couple of days. Monday, though, she would have to be straight to go to the courthouse; Jason's old man wasn't making payments again. The fact that Jason hadn't been in the house in a week was more or less irrelevant. That brought another thought; Gina was starting to sprout this and that, which meant that she was going to have to hit the street during parties, too -- Big Momma didn't want her girls pulling no train just because their momma liked to. Besides, she didn't want any of her men distracted...

Tabitha was walking kind of bowlegged, though... "Hey, Tab -- you're late. And you're walking funny, Girl -- what you been doing?"

Tabitha thanked God that Alyssa had prepared her for this! "The girls had, uh, toys, Momma. We went a little nuts."

"Boys are better," Big Momma grunted. "You takin' your pills?"

"Yes, Ma'am. Every day at four o'clock."

"Good. You never know when some boy is gonna trip you and stick a dick in you." 'Not that I expect it soon -- poor thing didn't even get MY looks!' Momma added to herself.

"Wouldn't that be bad?" Tabitha asked.

"Not necessarily, if you're takin' your pills, Honey. There's a living in it, you know? I don't do it that way, but you could..." Momma advised.

"So, if I fuck guys..."

"Get something for it, Honey. Make sure you get more than a twat full of little wigglers."

Somewhat shocked, Tabitha turned away. "Yes, Momma. I'm gonna go upstairs and take a bath." Shit! Momma wanted her to hook! Would the guys in the group put up with that? Maybe she should call Alyssa -- or Randy... Tired, she waved it off. It would wait a day or two. So many things had happened...


Monday came, and vacation ended for a bunch of people. Martin, Hank and Toby were at school by seven-thirty for football tryouts, along with both Carter boys. Lon had swim team starting at eleven -- and Sally went with him.

Candace, Beth, Louise, Adele and Jean had their coffee -- something that had been hard to arrange for a while. Adele was only available for a limited time -- she had to be at work too early. Beth and Louise were off for the day, and would start the three to eleven shift on Tuesday. Jean was working at nine, and planned to go to Martin's to cook dinner for what she was beginning to think of as 'her men' -- Martin, Hank, and Toby -- who would undoubtedly be tired after their day. And that brought up another subject...

"Everyone keeps telling me I should get more involved with different members of the group..." she announced. "Any suggestions?"

Candace blinked. "Have you had Hank?"

"Uh, no. I'd prefer NOT to have more boy trouble," Jean replied. "What about men?" After a pause, she added, "I tried out Frank Pendergast -- he's nice, but we really didn't hit it off."

"Oh?" Candace looked up, surprised. "What happened?"

"I think he got tied up with the idea that I was out of his league," Jean replied. "We just didn't mesh."

"He didn't give ME any problems," Adele announced. "I thought he was pretty good!"

Beth looked around. "I didn't know he was out there."

"Me, either," Louise muttered.

"That makes three of us," Candace chimed in.

"Well, he's kind of rough -- personality-wise," Jean explained, "not physically." She glanced at Adele. "Do you agree?"

"He's not a sweet-talker," Adele agreed, "but he gets the job done. We started off stupid, but once we broke the color barrier, I had a good time."

Jean nodded. "Our problem was a head thing, I think." She glanced around. "What about my original question?"

"Well, there's Robert..." Beth looked like it hurt her to say that.

"Robert?"

"Doctor Robert Rankin," Louise related. "Nice guy, young, good fuck. He's the one doing the exams of the younger girls."

"Oh," Jean nodded.

"He and Beth are getting a little cozy, but I'm sure he could spare a moment if you asked him." Louise watched Beth as she said this. "We brought him in with the expectation that he would be visiting several of us..." Beth composed her features.

"I see." Jean did, too. Beth wouldn't be happy if she sidetracked her love interest. Still... "I'm sure it will be a 'just sex' thing."

"Beth, do you want to talk to him?" Louise asked, clearly enjoying needling Beth, "or shall I?"

"It's not a problem -- I'll give him a call," Beth replied. "Our shifts don't match this week... He's still on days, I think. And he's off tomorrow." Everybody present noted that Beth had his schedule -- and that she really didn't want to release it.

"Thanks," Jean replied carefully. "I'm not busy tomorrow if he isn't." Beth would just have to live with the competition -- it was something they'd basically all accepted, going in...

"Do you have Mr. Pendergast's number?" Louise asked Adele. "I'm off today..." Everyone noticed a certain hesitancy in Adele, too, despite the color difference. Apparently, Frank Pendergast affected different women in different ways...

"Are there any new members?" Jean asked. "I seem to remember some more candidates..."

"Tabitha Hart," Adele supplied. "From what I heard, she was easy -- and IS easy. But she's homely, poor thing -- she needs all the help she can get."

"And her mother?" Beth asked.

"Not a problem, according to the boys," Adele supplied.

"We need to bring the other mothers into the group more," Candace opined. "Jiang Yi in particular. What about Mrs. Horner?"

"I'm sure she would benefit," Adele nodded.

"Good. Let's see what we can do -- a dinner, or something," Candace suggested. "I'm guessing that they can't make this."

"Probably not," Adele guessed. "But I can ask Phyllis." Her eyes put Candace on the spot.

"I'll check with Jiang Yi," Candace promised.

"Speaking of such things," Adele added, "I've got to go. Thanks for inviting me!" She got up and left. Little else was accomplished.


Football tryouts started slowly -- some of the guys showed up unsure as to whether they wanted to waste their time on a losing team. A few others showed up because that general opinion would leave holes in the lineup that they could insert themselves into -- and while they might lose, they would still letter and be able to take the experience to college. Things slowly spun up; by noon, the word had gone out that Coach was his old firebrand self and some late arrivals staggered in. Martin frankly couldn't decide whether to penalize them or not -- but he didn't cut the second-stringers he was suddenly flush with. Eventually, he verbally peeled the hide off of several of the first-stringers who had goofed off and told them he would rather put up with less talent and more work ethic. THAT set a few fires, and by the end of the day, he had a pretty decent assortment, all working hard.

Martin let them go at two-thirty; it was too hot to press any more out of them the first day. They would work out every day that week, a few going home every day, and the workouts would get longer as school and the first game approached. In the meantime, there were drills and calisthenics and timed runs and strategy and tactics to go over. A quick scrimmage using the leftovers of last year's team with some new bodies plugging the holes was what everyone looked forward to, and they got it around eleven.

Toby and Hank had their first target selected for them there -- Bobby Beckwith, one of the linebackers, proved unstoppable, sacking the quarterback repeatedly during the scrimmage despite the offensive line's best efforts. Toby called Randy, also briefing him that they would need Trish earlier than previously supposed.

The track team was on the field, too, running laps around the track. Brenda McAllister was there, training for the 100, 200, and 440 meters in the morning and running with the cross-country team in the afternoon. And that, of course, meant that Bonita was there, too...

The approach was everything; Toby and Hank worried about it, but figured that the guys would have better sense than to let word of the thing get too far -- after all, they'd be cutting their own throats! Bobby would be the test case. When everyone hit the showers, Hank kicked off by telling Bobby, "Get your shower and go see Toby -- he's got something for you."

Bobby was good-sized, blond, freckled, and snub-nosed -- and pretty good-natured, despite being a shark on the field. He was cautious when he approached Toby; he didn't know him and didn't really understand why he was there. "Hank said to come see you."

"You kicked butt today, Man -- congrats!" Toby kicked off.

"Thanks." Bobby's expression said, 'So?'

"Look, after last year, some of the alums and boosters are concerned, you know?" Toby lied. "Coach is back, but they would like to see more motivation -- so they've come up with some incentives."

"Yeah?" Bobby was clearly suspicious.

"Look, I don't have to tell you that anything out of the ordinary would get the whole school reprimanded and sports would probably be toasted across the board," Toby cautioned. "So this isn't official, and Coach doesn't know a damned thing about it, so don't ask him about it, okay? If you don't want to hear any more, let me know -- but if you do, we need to take a walk."

"Okay." Bobby's interest was piqued. Worst case, he could turn them in -- quietly -- before anything bad happened... "I'll take the walk."

They went outside, into the parking lot. "Okay," Toby continued. "Money is out, obviously. It's too visible. Nobody is going to be buying anybody cars and stuff. We had to find incentives that weren't all that visible, but that were powerful stuff for guys our age." He paused. "How about a massage?"

"Huh?"

"Not from me. From a girl." Toby amplified.

"A... massage..." Bobby eyed Toby as if he'd come from another planet. "From a girl."

"Yup."

"Where?"

"I'll let you know when you answer me," Toby grinned. He could see the wheels turning behind Bobby's eyes.

"About the girl..." Bobby ventured.

"She'll be naked."

THAT did it! Bobby's eyes bulged. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, I'm in." Bobby was a LOT more than just 'in'.

"Okay, look, obviously, we want the word to get around the team -- but you've got to be careful -- nobody who is obviously not gonna make it, for instance -- we don't want anybody turning us in because they didn't make tailback, you know?" Toby's reference was to Chris Hardy, who was already whining how unfair it all was because he wasn't quick enough.

"Yeah, I got it -- low and tight. Just the cream of the crop."

"Right. Eventually, maybe the whole team will get something or another at some point, but they've got to be team players -- some hero who wants it all his way can screw it for everybody," Toby pointed out.

"Right."

"Okay, then. We're down, right?"

"Yeah, cool."

"See that white van over there?"

"Uh huh." Bobby nodded, his eyes riveted on the vehicle in question.

"We're gonna drive it up the block, off-campus, because of the cameras and stuff -- but I'll meet you there and you'll get your massage."

"Man, if this is a scam..." Bobby warned.

"Trust me -- you'll be satisfied," Toby assured him. "You trust Hank, don't you?"

"Yeah." Everybody trusted Hank.

"Okay, then. See you in about ten minutes." Toby walked off.


In the meantime, Brenda and Bonita were sitting in the bleachers. Brenda was lacing up her running shoes, getting ready for cross-country at three-thirty. Bonita glanced behind her and squinted, "Hey, isn't that Alyssa in that van down there?"

Brenda shaded her eyes and took a look. "Could be. I think that's her brother."

"You know..." Bonita's tone of voice spoke volumes.

"Yeah." Brenda was on the same frequency. "I have to go run. Why don't you go down and ask her?"

"Okay." The pair headed down the bleachers.


"Why am I here?" Trish complained when Toby opened the doors. It was hot in the back of the van.

Toby climbed in and grunted. "We're definitely going to have to put in vents and A/C." He parked himself on the seat. "I just promised Bobby Beckwith a massage from a naked chick. Guess who is gonna do it?"

"Awww...!"

"Get naked. You won't be as hot."

"Dammit!" Trish whined, but she started undressing. "He'll see my face!"

"No he won't," Toby replied, brandishing a mask -- one of the cloth hoods. "He won't see much of your head at all, above the mouth."

"What if he wants...?"

"... A happy ending?" Toby finished for her. "You give it to him."

"Awww...!"

"Keep that up and Randy will have you making porn flicks with Dirk for sale," Toby snapped.


Alyssa was riding up front in the van acting as a lookout; she performed her function brilliantly. "Uh oh, here comes Bonita!"

"Crap!" Randy cursed. "Can you handle it?"

"Yeah." Alyssa nodded. "If it's what I think it's gonna be, what do you want me to tell her?"

"I dunno. Toby!" He knocked on the partition. "We got trouble. One of the girls we got left is coming!"

"Who?"

"Bonita."

"That means Brenda, too, right?" Toby asked.

Alyssa nodded. "Yeah," Randy relayed.

"Brenda's on cross-country, right?"

Another nod from Alyssa, relayed by Randy, "Yeah."

"She's running right now, then -- probably won't be ready until five or five-thirty. Tell 'em you'll pick 'em up here then. We'll get some of the other guys to help."

"Gotcha." Randy turned to Alyssa. "Anything else?"

Alyssa sighed. "No."

It was just in time. Bonita bounced up, beaming. "Hi, Alyssa!"

"Hi, Bonita."

"What'cha doing here?"

"We were just leaving, actually. Had to pick some people up," Alyssa replied.

"Oh." Bonita looked disappointed. She flicked a glance at Randy. "Do you think we can come over later? And, you know, hang out? It's been a while. Brenda's gonna be all keyed up from her first day back..."

"I've got a better idea," Alyssa replied. "When do you expect Brenda back? Five? Five-thirty?"

"Probably before five, then she'll need to shower..." Bonita mused. If they were going to Alyssa's, playtime could wait...

"We'll come get you in this at five-thirty, okay? Call your folks or whatever. Right now, though, we have to go..."

"Okay! I'll fix it. Thanks! We'll see you then!" Bonita was all smiles.

Randy pulled away to make the rendezvous up the block. "I hope she's as happy later..." Alyssa sighed.

Bobby arrived three minutes after they did. "I saw that Bonita chick -- is there gonna be trouble?" he asked Toby.

"Nope. No trouble." Toby threw open the back doors of the van and Bobby peered inside. "Holy shit!"

"I promised..." Toby noted.

"Yeah. She's black..." Bobby mused.

"Have you got a color thing?" Toby asked.

"No. Actually, it's better, maybe. What are we gonna do?"

"Well, we COULD do it in here on the road -- or I can take you someplace more comfortable. Your call," Toby told him.

"Can I follow you?"

"Nope. The location has to be a secret, you know? Especially right now..." Toby told him.

"Yeah, right." Bobby was mapping Trish's exposed skin with his eyeballs; he wasn't paying a whole lot of attention to her face. "Okay. I just get in?"

"Yup. Do you want it on the road or at the place? It's pretty fucking hot..."

"Let's go wherever..." Bobby put himself in Toby's hands. He had to -- the bait was just too tempting. He got in and parked himself on the seat opposite Trish. "Hey..."

"Look, Man, obviously, this chick would rather you didn't know who she was, even though she's obviously a booster, you know?" Toby intervened. "If she spends a lot of time talking to you..."

"Oh, yeah. I get it." Bobby sat ogling her in the dim light as the van started moving. "So, what can we do?"

"Well, if you want to talk, I guess it's the 'Twenty Questions' kind of thing. Ask her yes or no stuff so she can nod," Toby amplified.

Bobby sat fidgeting for twenty seconds, then, "Can I touch you?"

Trish turned to Toby, who just looked back at her -- but she got it. The game was that she was a volunteer; he wouldn't tell her to do anything -- but she was supposed to do anything she got asked to do. She turned back to Bobby and nodded, slowly.

"Okay, I get it. Don't get stupid," Bobby puffed out -- but he changed seats to sit beside her. Toby facilitated by taking Bobby's seat across the way. Very carefully, he put a hand on her thigh.

Trish controlled a flinch. Bobby's hand was sweaty, but so was her thigh -- it was horribly hot in the back of the van. At least he hadn't leaped onto her...

Bobby's cock was trying to rip a hole in his Dockers. He moved his hand a bit on the smooth skin. "That's nice," he breathed.

It was clear that he was powerfully aroused. Trish got this surge of power from his hunger. He wanted her -- bad! A month ago she might have gotten naked if Bobby Beckwith had deigned to notice her; now, somehow, the shoe was on the other foot! He moved his hand again; she allowed him a couple of inches, then placed her hand on his. He stopped, instantly. She picked up her hand. He waited, watching her, then moved a bit again. She did nothing until he had covered the area from the inside of her knee to halfway up her inner thigh -- and then she stopped him again with a touch.

Toby felt her settling down -- felt her assuming control. If Bobby stayed the way he was, she would run the encounter -- but she would be generous with him. Toby watched, satisfied with progress.

Then he got anxious and blew it, of course. Bobby mumbled, "Look, I just gotta..." and reached across with his left hand to cradle Trish's left breast. Trish instantly covered his hand with hers and turned a pair of very intent eyes on his, holding them for a moment, then slowly shaking her head no.

Toby decided to amplify. "Bobby, there's a choice between accepting a gift and taking something you haven't been offered, Man. You jumped the gun, there, big time. I don't think you've hosed things up totally, but you need to back off."

Bobby nodded. "Okay I screwed up -- but I just HAD to! They're..." He literally had no words.

There was no doubting his sincerity -- and that left another problem -- the fact that Trish really liked having her breasts touched. She chewed her puffy lower lip while she considered what to do next, then released his hand -- but did not pull it away from her breast. Instead, she raised a cautionary finger.

Bobby nodded. He would touch nothing else, for now -- but the breast was his, as long as he didn't get stupid. He really didn't have to do anything to see the nipple thicken and elongate and the dark chocolate areola crinkle. That -- and weighing the thing in his palm, gently squeezing -- was enough to keep him busy until they arrived.

Randy opened the back doors, and he and Alyssa moved to the far side of the van, away from the basement door, out of sight as Toby led Trish and Bobby down the stairs -- but they needn't have worried; Bobby was following Trish, his eyes on her bare ass.

Downstairs, Toby led Bobby to the curtained-off area along the side and handed him a towel. "Get undressed and lay down on that table, face down. There's a hole for your face," he told him, pointing at the massage table that Randy had scored earlier in the day from Ed's friend Earl. "Yell when you're ready."

Trish pulled him aside and asked, "Okay, what do you want me to do?"

"You're doing fine," Toby replied, producing a bottle of baby oil. "Take some of this and pour it on him and rub it in." He demonstrated, pressing and squeezing her lower back. "Do everything in the back and his arms and legs and stuff, then have him turn over and do the front." Trish cocked her head, making a face, and Toby nodded, "Yeah, that, too. I want you to fuck him or suck him -- but I want him to think that you decided to do it because you got carried away." He shrugged. "As excited as he is, he might blow a wad just from excitement before you even touch him -- I probably would, in his place."

Trish grimaced. "So I let him paw me?"

"Control him like you have been. Make him wait. Make him take it slow. But it won't hurt you to let him touch you a little. He's not treating you like dirt, you know."

"Yeah..." Under other circumstances, Trish might have let Bobby do a lot of things to her -- he was pretty hot, for a white guy, and he was popular -- a catch, actually, although, strangely, she wasn't aware of anyone bothering to try. "Okay."

"There is a step stool in there so you can get up high, and you can get on the table and straddle him for some stuff -- that makes it easier to work his back, for instance. You'll catch on," Toby assured her.

"Ready!" Bobby yelled from behind the curtain.

"I'll be around," Toby told her. "He's not here to do things his way. If he gets stupid on you, yell, and Randy and I will intervene. Try to have a good time. You're not going to the guillotine."

Trish nodded, nerved herself, and ducked behind the curtain. Toby headed up the stairs and waved to Randy, "We need to stand by in case Bobby gets wild. This isn't us tossing her in there for a fuck. I promised him a massage from a naked chick -- as far as he's concerned, anything else is gravy."

"Right. Why don't you watch TV, Sissy?" Randy told Alyssa. "Are you gonna watch?"

"Yeah, not too closely. I don't want to kill things. Better get on the phone and see who we can bring in for Brenda and Bonita."


Trish entered the area of the massage table and stood there looking at Bobby stretched out upon it on his stomach. He'd managed to drape the towel over his ass properly, but from behind she had a peek at something -- either his scrotum or the tip of his cock. Drawing a breath, she came forward with the bottle of oil and opened it, dripping some on his back.

"Yikes!" Bobby started up, but Trish hurriedly put a hand on his back to restrain him and he settled down -- but not before he'd displaced the towel. Trish said "Shhhh!" to settle him and then replaced the towel before starting to work on his shoulders.

Very quickly, it became apparent what Toby was talking about; working Bobby's back and shoulders from the sides wasn't working well. That being the case, she pondered what she should do about it, and decided to shift to his arms. There, she again ran into trouble almost immediately -- how was she going to brace his arms? She could work the backs of his upper arms with them flat out on the table, but his forearms would be poorly positioned... She worked on his left arm, massaging the back of his upper arm, then picked it up at the wrist and turned it out. That left his palm facing her and his forearm in a good position to reach with both hands -- but he couldn't just hang it like that -- how would he relax? Maybe if she pulled it out further... Still holding his wrist, she walked toward the head of the table; his arm swept out a bit, then stopped -- but she kept moving, and the situation resolved itself when his hand settled on her left side, just above her hip. It wasn't intentional, but it worked; Bobby made a little grunt of pleasure and his hand gently squeezed her flesh. Trish pulled in a sigh and worked on his forearm, bracing him against her as necessary.

Bobby was in awe of the experience already. He hadn't heard Trish pad into the room, so the oil on his back surprised him. The initial work on his back didn't seem to accomplish much, but she moved on to his arm relatively quickly and seemed to dig at it properly. Then she placed his hand on her side... She was massaging his forearm, but he was feeling her flesh -- cool, smooth, soft. Excitement and anticipation was driving him mad...

Trish collected his hand and worked the palm of it, gouging it with her thumbs. She only had a vague idea what she was doing, but it FELT right. She replaced the arm along the table and crossed to his right side, passing around the table at the head end.

Bobby watched her go around as best he could, legs and bare feet, and views of the 'V' shape she had cut her pubes into. This was soooo hot...

Trish worked his right arm as she had his left, pretending that the bracing of his hand against her side had been deliberate by mirroring the action. Then it was time to select the next target; legs seemed to be the ideal choice, at the moment. She shifted to her left and began at his ankle, then second-guessed herself and shifted to work on his foot, pressing her thumbs into his instep. From there, she moved slowly upward to his calf, and onward to his thighs. Bobby's light blond hair was everywhere, she noticed, including his legs, where fine hairs reflected the overhead lighting. His musculature was surprising -- hard bulges and ripples that she hadn't realized he had from her limited contact with him. She dug into the backs of his thighs as best she could, but the effort made her hands hurt; she had to stop and flex them periodically.

Her hands felt wonderful -- relaxing -- but they didn't keep him from growing a throbbing erection that required movement at one point so that it could shift to point upward as it stiffened. The approach of her hands to his crotch intensified his excitement; it was odd being partially relaxed, yet feeling like he was going to explode at any moment.

The idea of working his glutes left her conflicted, so Trish moved on to his other foot and leg. Bobby was both disappointed and relieved -- the belief that if she went that far, excitement would overcome him and he would blast spunk all over the table beneath him had him extremely nervous.

Working his left leg didn't take that long, though, and she was right back where she started, albeit with somewhat more confidence. It was time to get down to business; she shifted his left leg toward the table edge, circled around and shifted his right leg outward, too, put the step-stool at the foot of the table, collected the oil, and climbed up to kneel between his outstretched legs. A quick application of oil to her hands later, she slid them under the towel and began massaging his buttocks.

Bobby KNEW he was going to explode -- but somehow he didn't. He limited himself to a soft grunt while her fingers squeezed and molded his ass cheeks.

At that point, Trish began to enjoy what she was doing. Bobby's ass was unlike anywhere else she had touched thus far -- far softer and more moldable. She rode the towel up on her wrists so she could see what she was doing, fully aware that Bobby was NOT going to complain. Eventually, she picked it up and threw it around her neck to get it out of the way; Bobby never let out a peep.

Bobby's lower back was as tight as his ass was loose, Trish discovered as she moved up. Slowly, she moved higher and higher on his back, finally reaching his neck, dealing with the areas that needed the most attention. When she reached midway, she realized that she couldn't continue properly by kneeling between his legs, so she moved to straddle him, gently pulling his legs together so she could do so. The bodily contact that she had thus far largely avoided was now unavoidable -- but less of an issue for her. If she was going to provide a platform for the type of pressure she needed to apply to his back muscles, there was no way for her to avoid draping her inner thighs across the backs of his -- and of course she had to move slowly upward toward his ass as her work area moved toward his neck...

This was a big issue for Bobby, however. His fevered imagination augmented his sense of touch until he was certain that he was feeling her vagina as it pressed against the backs of his legs. It was intense, incredible, unbearable -- but just as he could take no more, she slid back and got down off the table.

The wave of disappointment that washed over him was massive -- and lasted until she suddenly appeared at his head, reaching down to work at his neck and shoulders from that angle. Bobby feasted his eyes on her lower belly and the trimmed 'V' of her pubes over her protruding clitoris and puffy labia, and her legs and feet while she worked at his neck and shoulders. THIS was more like it! And that aroma...

Trish was aroused, too -- THAT is why her labia were puffy and her clit was swollen -- and that was the source of the aroma. Once she got into what she was doing, arousal just seemed to follow naturally. Now, she was kneading his muscles because she wanted to and it was with a whole different mindset that she attacked her work.

"Roll over." It was the first words that she said to him, and he knew that the croak wasn't representative of her normal speaking voice. He rolled over and gazed up at her while she continued to work at his neck and shoulders, getting an incredible view of the sway of her swollen breasts.

Trish was looking at something else; Bobby's cock seemed to lunge up from his belly at her with every heartbeat. It was obviously fully erect, and in line with her experience for size. That Bobby wanted her was not in question. She worked her way down his chest, rubbing his pectorals, leaning closer and taking the opportunity to gaze at it; the flushed, swollen glans was fully extended above the foreskin despite the fact that he was uncircumcised... Gathering herself, she recovered and backed off; it was time to move again, to attack his thighs from the side. She swept around to his right and began working on his right thigh, starting at his knee.

He could watch her like this, see her hands working on him, feel the pressure as she pulled his legs apart. She pressed and squeezed with her hands together, working from the side, then had him cock his knee out and worked her way up his thigh, her two hands a ring around his leg. She moved higher and higher and he watched her face; her eyes shifted back and forth from where she was working to his cock and back. Her heavy breasts swayed...

And then she inadvertently touched his scrotum! The touch electrified him, and triggered the arousal he'd been struggling with since the beginning! "Oh, Shit!" he howled as his cock erupted, splashing him from his neck to his waist with globs of his jizz!

It was the most embarrassing moment of Bobby's life! He wanted to run, or hide. He drew his legs up -- or started to, but the girl pressed down on the one she was working on and said, "Shhh!" then pressed him back down onto the table when he went bolt upright. "THAT's not relaxed -- we'll have to work on it..." She then picked up the towel and dabbed at his chest while he looked away, embarrassed. "I guess you like this," she whispered in a strangled voice.

"Fuck, that doesn't even begin to describe it!" Bobby moaned. "I'm sorry!"

"Sorry that you like me?" Trish smiled. "Don't be." Technically, she was off the hook; he'd blown a load. But things had changed... She finished wiping his chest and belly, then milked his shaft with cool, oil-slick fingers to get the dregs into the towel while he moaned and thrashed.

That done, she moved to his other leg and kneaded it as though the eruption had never occurred -- but she was watching his cock, and it didn't shrink a millimeter. This time, when she touched his scrotum, it was deliberate; she gently fondled the sac and its contents and gently jacked his shaft while Bobby watched, bug-eyed.

"Still pretty tense," she muttered, her throat dry while she gathered her courage. Bobby didn't need a blowjob -- and that wouldn't cure HER problem anyway. Taking a deep breath, she moved to the foot of the table and pulled his feet together, then climbed onto the table on her hands and knees until she was eyeball to eyeball with Bobby.

His were huge! "Are we gonna...?" he croaked.

"Yes..." His cock was slick with the oil, but she was wet, too -- and had been for a few minutes. She reached down and collected his shaft and rubbed his glans against her furrow, splitting the lips -- something almost unbearable for both of them -- wedged it at her opening, and moved to a vertical position, impaling herself on it in the process.

Never in his wildest dreams had Bobby envisioned this -- it was beyond him to take any action, because he was afraid he would wake up! His cock was being enveloped in soft, silky, burning hot flesh, all the way to the hilt! It was agony, and it was ecstasy; it was unbearable, yet he would die to stay just where he was...

Trish, having had more experience, knew that the initial penetration wouldn't finish either of them, and was hungry to move on, so she did, rising on his hot, curved pole and then settling herself again slowly, enjoying that intensity of feeling that came to her while her insides adjusted to his girth. At the end of that stroke, she took his hands and gave them her breasts, and he instinctively moved his thumbs and forefingers to encircle and press at her nipples.

After that, things slowly spiraled out of control -- twice, for Trish -- before Bobby, who had been thrusting up into her energetically, hunched himself and gasped, "Coming!" and splashed her inner channel with an even larger load than the one he'd blown on his chest. She said little, mostly incoherent but emphatic grunts, but he knew that he had succeeded in bringing her to climax by the way she would stop and shudder, corkscrewing her pussy on his length. He said even less -- quiet puffs and gasps until that ultimate exclamation that marked his completion. When it was over, she sat above him, panting, for a bit, then rose a bit to allow his subsiding erection to fall from her vagina. "NOW, you're relaxed," she whispered, smiling, and she backed toward the foot of the table and got off. She wiped him off with the towel, then, dabbing at her crotch with it, she walked away.

Bobby just lay there on the table, soaking in the enormity of it all. 'She fucked me! Omigawd! She took my cherry! I can't believe it!' The experience had exceeded his wildest dreams!

Toby was there when she stepped through the curtain. "Did you watch?" she asked.

"I saw enough," Toby replied. Actually, he hadn't bothered to look; he could tell basically what went on by sampling her emotions. "You were great -- and I'm sure Bobby agrees with me. Go try out the new bathroom -- it's down that way."

Trish nodded and headed off. Standing there with Bobby's cum streaming down her leg, she had no idea why she'd climbed up there and fucked him -- but it had been the thing to do at the time. Apparently she WAS a slut... The bathroom was a pleasant surprise, especially the open showers. There didn't seem to be a curtain, though, so she just went to the sink. That was good enough -- that and the toilet...

"Any luck with the phone calls?" Toby asked.

"Terence and Damian are on their way," Randy reported. "Do I call Hank? Or Lon?"

"Pull in Hank," Toby directed. "You never know what we'll need to do. I'll go get Bobby moving."

"Cool."

Bobby was pulling on his clothing. "Look, if you guys ever need ANYTHING, you just yell, okay? I owe you BIG time! You have no idea!"

"We just want people moving with a purpose on the field, Man," Toby assured him.

"Well, you bought a lot more than that from me! And tell that girl I'll be looking for her -- I owe her a seriously good time!" Bobby insisted.

"Even though she's black?" Toby asked.

"Based on that, Man, I might start chasing black chicks specifically!" Bobby retorted.

"Okay, well, we're on a schedule, so make it quick, okay?" Toby pressed. "I'll let her know you were impressed."

"I'll be done in a sec."




How am I doing? Care to comment?

Next Chapter Table of Contents Return Home