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Archive name: proof.txt (MF, cheat)
Authors name: Spacey (address withheld by request)
Story title : What's the Proof 

--------------------------------------------------------
This work is copyrighted to the author © 2003.  Please
don't remove the author information or make any changes
to this story.  You may post freely to non-commercial
"free" sites, or in the "free" area of commercial sites.
Thank you for your consideration.
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What's the Proof (MF, cheat)
by Spacey (address withheld by request)

***

A story about an engaged man who visits his once and 
future home town and has a one night fling with a high 
school crush. She takes control in the bedroom as things 
get a little kinky.

***

For the past year, Jessica has been my life. She's a 
recent Ivy League graduate, and I'm currently a graduate 
student at a prominent southern university. After meeting 
through a mutual friend, we began an intense courtship 
and now live together with marriage already waiting only 
on the completion of my studies. Our sex life is decent 
in quality and tremendous in quantity, with Jess always 
more than eager to romp around in the bed we share.

What happens between the sheets between Jess and me is 
evidence of true love, but true love does not always make 
the best tale. The (eventually) steamy contents of this 
story stem from a recent encounter I had without my 
fianc‚e, on a trip back to my hometown. Jess never has to 
know, but I have to tell someone.

Hoping to take a faculty position in the college town I 
called home for the first eighteen years of my life, I 
had arranged to spend a school holiday back in Bruxton, 
Alabama. This trip initially had three objectives. 

First, I was scheduled to interview with a Dean at the 
college. 

Second, I had to make the obligatory visit to my parents' 
home. 

Third, I was planning to spend Saturday afternoon fishing 
with my friend, Michael, who didn't have to worry about 
returning because he'd never left-and now proudly managed 
the new Wal-Mart that dominated local commerce. 

Indeed, the Wal-Mart, after forcing out the mom-and-pops 
that were already beyond salvation when I packed my bags 
twelve years ago, is the local commerce, but it wasn't 
unusual for Michael to schedule his Saturdays off. I 
arrived Wednesday night, spent Thursday with my parents, 
and aced the interview on Friday morning. As it turns 
out, however, Saturday was just like any other for my 
friend Michael, as he went fishing alone.

After the interview with Dean Marshall, I met with 
another childhood friend, who had already started working 
at the college in the English department, for a late 
lunch. Darren Waters was the school bully throughout our 
elementary years, but had become something of a literary 
prodigy after his father's money bought him the finest 
prep school education followed by ten years at Yale. I 
hadn't spoken to Darren much since we were 12, but he had 
been quite helpful over the past several months as I 
prepared to become an academic colleague of his. 

In truth, since we had not attended the same high school 
and lacked similar intellectual interests (I'm a 
mathematician), we found very little to discuss over 
hamburgers at Nelly's, the one thriving business in town 
that didn't share it's profits with Sam Walton's family. 

Nevertheless, Darren did manage to peak my interest more 
than slightly as we were making our goodbyes in the 
parking lot. He was preparing to go back to work on an 
essay considering how 19th Century American Literature 
would have differed had William Shakespeare never lived. 
I was going to buy a tackle box.proceeds to benefit Sam's 
grandkids, of course. That's when my next 24 hours 
changed course altogether.

Lisa Waters had been my sole reason for living for 3 
years in my past. I had formally met Darren's younger 
sister only during my senior year of high school when I 
tutored her in Geometry. She was a junior, still in 
public school by her own choice. She was the star of the 
tennis team, an excellent student, and an especially 
talented writer like her brother, but she might not have 
been Valedictorian had she not persuaded me to help her 
with some particularly difficult proofs on her homework. 

Ok, I did the proofs myself and let her turn them in her 
name, so it wasn't exactly help, but it was worth it. Now 
I know what you're thinking, but we're not there quite 
yet. Nothing happened then, except that I was lucky 
enough to spend several hours a week with someone who I 
thought to be the most amazing person in the world. 

I was leaving for college, and she wasn't quite ready to 
get involved with boys back then. My crush on Lisa lasted 
for a couple years into my college studies until I 
started dating some new women. Not that I ever lost 
interest in Lisa altogether, it's just that she wasn't 
around, and these other women were.

After wishing me luck on my job prospects (luck that we 
both knew I didn't need at this point having already been 
essentially offered the job), Darren suggested that I 
attend the football game at the high school that evening. 
He wouldn't be able to make it-and didn't like sports 
much anyway-but he said his sister would be there, as she 
had recently added cheerleader coach to her long list of 
assignments as a teacher at the school. 

Darren never knew how much I liked his sister, but he 
knew we were acquaintances and so he offered to call her 
and ask her to keep me company. I readily accepted, of 
course.

It's seems odd, but for whatever reason, I had no idea 
Lisa was teaching at my old school. I guess I assumed she 
had moved to a bigger city like she had planned. I 
wouldn't have blamed her for wanting to leave Bruxton, as 
Lisa Waters isn't a Wal-Mart kind of gal.

Still planning to spend the next day on Michael's boat 
with a fishing rod in one hand and a Coors Light in the 
other, I should have gone to pick up that tackle box at 
this point. But, I rationalized, I hadn't been on that 
lake in a decade and might not be out there again in the 
near future, so it would be prudent to simply use 
Michael's lures. Mostly, I figured it would be more 
"prudent" to go home and grab a shower before looking for 
Lisa at the stadium. When I arrived at Bryant-Bruxton 
Stadium at seven, Lisa was already looking for me.

We spotted each other immediately-let's face it, the town 
isn't that big, and neither is the stadium. She looked as 
perfect as I could remember: 5'7", long brown hair, big 
round breasts, curvy hips, and the tightest little ass!

Everyone else was wearing jeans and a sweatshirt, but 
Lisa was wearing a black skirt stopping three or four 
inches above the knee and a pale blue sweater cut to 
reveal her unseasonably well tanned navel region. It was 
about fifty-five degrees on a clear October night, but 
this angel from my past was making me hotter than I had 
been since at least the last time I had been in that 
stadium as the backup quarterback on a last place team.

We sat together throughout the game as she pretended to 
keep an eye on her cheerleaders, and I pretended not to. 
Of course, I was more than happy to keep my attention 
focused right on Lisa. It turns out she had never been 
married and was currently uninvolved. Despite my 
intentions to hide the fact, she already knew I was not 
only seriously involved, but also practically married. 
Fortunately, she didn't seem to care.

After four quarters of less than inspiring football, my 
alma mater prevailed 10-8 after a short field goal. A 
victory was all the other hundred or so fans were hoping 
for, but I just hoped the game would never end. I was on 
top of the world sitting there in that stadium on a 
pleasant autumn night with the most pleasant girl in the 
land when Lisa suggested that I give her a ride home 
after she sent the cheerleaders on their way. 

Some part of me now wonders why I didn't suggest that she 
send the cheerleaders on their way over to her house with 
us, but really that wouldn't have been necessary. She was 
all I needed, and really as much as I could handle!

When I accompanied Lisa into the foyer of her quaint 
brick colonial home, she wasted no time in offering me a 
libation, which I happily accepted. The bottle of Johnny 
Walker went quick as we discussed our respective recent 
pasts, and it's now apparent we both left some things 
out. By midnight my hand was well under her skirt on the 
softest thigh you can imagine, inching its way towards 
heaven. She watched my actions intently, but hesitated to 
make any moves herself. When I leaned in to taste her 
lips, however, I found an anxious co-conspirator. 

Our tongues massaged each other for several minutes until 
I finally decided to send my fingers off her leg and onto 
her panty covered pubic mound. To my initial chagrin, 
Lisa's hand grabbed mine before I reached the promise 
land, and she broke our passionate embrace. Fearing I had 
gone too far, I began to apologize. At this point Lisa 
interrupted and insisted that I be quiet. She, in no 
uncertain terms, informed me that she fully intended to 
have sex with me and that I would be more than happy to 
feel her pussy when she was "damn-well ready." Looking 
lustily into my blue eyes, my lover-to-be added, "I trust 
you know how to beg!"

Completely surprised by Lisa's comments, I mumbled 
something with the intent to convey that I wanted her 
anyway I could have her, finally managing to say, "shit 
yeah, I'll beg if I have to!" Lisa smiled at this and 
ordered me to follow her to her bedroom. No complaints 
from me, as her bed was the one place in the world I most 
desired to be.

Once in her bedroom, Lisa ordered me to remove my 
clothes. 

"Get naked. Now!" "I want to see that cock and that ass. 
I think you'll do, but I want to make sure."

Without giving too much consideration to her words, I 
anxiously removed my shoes, socks, pants, and sweatshirt 
while Lisa looked on with a horny grin. This would have 
been the beginning of my fondest wet dream, except it was 
really happening!

"Your boxers!" she screamed, "Damn it. I said I want to 
see your cock. Don't you have one? Take off your boxers 
and show me your cock. Right now! Bitch!"

"Yes, Ma'am," I thought to myself and made every effort 
to comply perfectly by dropping my drawers to my ankles 
and stepping out of them. At this time, however, I was 
still about ten feet away from Lisa, as she set on the 
edge of her bed, legs crossed, still fully clothed. She 
no longer appreciated the distance.

"Get over here! I want a closer look!"
As I walked closer, she continued, "Mmmm, you do have a 
cock. And a very nice one. Glad to see it's already quite 
hard. If I hadn't made you hard by now, I would be very 
insulted."

When I was standing in front of her, within inches of her 
long, tan legs, Lisa grabbed me by the hips and asked if 
I would like her to suck my cock. Of course, I nodded 
rapidly, but Lisa took this as a non-response.

"Look, you sorry bitch. I expect real answers. Real 
audible answers. I'm an English teacher, remember! I 
understand words, so use them. And make sure to call me 
Princess when you address me. You got that?"

Well, I'd never been with such an aggressive woman before 
(and Jess is as passive as they come), but I was not 
going to do anything to jeopardize my opportunity to feel 
Lisa's cunt around my dick, so I managed, "Yes, Princess. 
Of course, I want you to suck my cock.Princess." And I 
said it sincerely.

Despite what I would have considered to that point to be 
my best effort, Princess Lisa was not satisfied with this 
response.

"That's it. I know you want me, and I want you, but it's 
going to be on my terms. Lie down on the bed, face first. 
Close your eyes, and spread out your arms."

Figuring it would be unwise to point out that this 
position might be painful given the state of my manhood, 
I conceded, "Yes, Princess. It's my greatest desire to 
please you, Princess." Then I took the position she had 
requested. I had no real concern that Lisa would do 
anything to hurt me and was more than willing to do 
anything that might make her happy. And I was quite 
likely to get more out of this than I got from doing her 
geometry proofs.

Lisa said nothing after I "assumed the position," and I 
waited for several minutes in darkness, my eyes 
forcefully clenched to appease my Princess. Finally, her 
hands touched my feet, and I soon realized she was 
sliding a pair of satin panties onto my body. Though I 
had figured this out myself, Lisa was eager to make sure 
I knew what was going on.

"You're wearing my panties. You will learn to love them 
before the night is through. You will beg for them in the 
event they are ever removed. You are my panty slut. It 
doesn't matter whether you know what that means now, as 
you will momentarily. You are glad to wear my panties and 
be my panty slut, aren't you?"

At this point, I had become strangely more aroused than 
ever before. I was glad to be Princess Lisa's panty slut.

"Yes, Princess! I'm glad to wear your panties, Princess."

"How glad are you?"

"Oh, Princess, there is nothing in the world I'd rather 
do than wear your panties. They are so soft and sexy, 
Princess."

"How long do you want to wear them? Huh, slut?"

"I want to wear them forever... forever..."

"Oops, some stupid, worthless panty slut forgot to say 
the magic word! I'm your Princess remember. Will you 
never learn?"

In truth, I fully intended to call Lisa by the title she 
so rightly, in my mind, deserved, but she had simply cut 
me off before I could get it out, as the alcohol and the 
excitement had combined to make speech more difficult 
than normal.

"Sorry, Princess. I didn't mean to forget to say it. I 
will learn. Your panty slut will learn to be so good to 
his Princess."

"Yes, well, slut, that's very good, but I think it's time 
for some more advanced lessons. Stand up!"

As I stood up, I saw my Princess for the first time since 
she had ordered me onto the bed. At some point she had 
apparently decided that the skirt and sweater she was 
wearing were no longer appropriate. Standing there now, 
she wore only a black bra and matching panties. I was 
proud to notice that the panties appeared to be well 
moistened.

"You like what you see slut? How long have you wanted to 
see this much of me? Oh, I bet there is more you'd like 
to see! You want to fuck me too? God, yes, you do. You've 
wanted my tight body for years. You've probably jerked 
off that massive cock more than once thinking about how 
good it would be to fuck me silly, haven't you."

Well, there was no denying this one.

"Yes, of course, Princess. I have always wanted you. 
There is nothing in the world I want more right now than 
to have sex with you, Princess!"

"I know you do. I assure you that it will be memorable 
for you, and perhaps me too if you're any good. Of 
course, I can have any cock I want. Today, I chose you 
because you were always so nice to me in school. Now that 
I'm a teacher, I'm happy to have you as my pet. And I am 
definitely happy to have you wearing a pair of my 
panties. Don't forget who's in charge here! Now let me 
see how you taste as a panty slut..."

At that Princess Lisa approached me, grabbed the back of 
my head, and slid her tongue gently between my lips. 
Again I was in heaven. I was no longer sure I needed to 
fuck this perfect piece of ass, as kissing her was as 
pleasurable as any form of sex I'd ever had before. 
Fortunately, she was eager to move on.

"Grab my tits! Massage me. It's called 'priming the 
pump!' Get me hot, bitch!"

As I happily complied by kneading her breasts through her 
bra, she decided to make a midnight snack out of my neck. 
I was risking physical evidence that could be 
incriminating upon my return to Jess' arms, but at the 
time it wasn't entirely obvious that I would ever return 
to my fianc‚e.

In minutes I had removed Lisa's bra without complaint, 
and after some quick probing of her hardening nipples by 
my able tongue, the Princess pushed me back down onto her 
bed. Looking down on me with a wry smile, she moved to 
remove her panties, but hesitated, then changed her mind.

"Oh, I do want to take them off. I know you will do 
pleasant things to my kitty-kat. But I think you need to 
fully appreciate the special sexual quality of panties. 
Would you welcome a lesson, my pet?"

"Yes, Princess." I replied without any idea what she had 
in mind.

Pleased by my direct and appropriate response, Lisa 
climbed onto the bed, straddled my upper body between her 
legs, and began to plunge her panty-covered pussy 
repeatedly down onto my chest.

"Doesn't the silky material make you excited?"

Instead of pointing out that I was already so excited by 
the totality of the events that the silky material of her 
wet panties could have hardly had any additional effect, 
I simply conceded, "Oh, yes, my Princess. Does the 
Princess wish to feel the sexiness of the panties she has 
allowed me to wear?"

"Ha ha, silly whore! Might you be trying to get me to 
stroke that cock of yours? I'm much to clever for that. I 
will please only when and how I wish."

Without further comment, Lisa changed the target of her 
pelvic plunges, as she placed her wet panty covered pubic 
region directly on my face. The smell was such an 
aphrodisiac that I instinctively attacked her with my 
tongue, attempting to fight my way beyond the silky 
material into her sex folds. After I struggled in this 
attempt for several minutes despite Lisa's decided lack 
of cooperation, she finally seemed interested in giving 
me what I wanted.

"Awww, does the little baby want some pussy-pussy? It is 
very wet."

"Yes, Princess, wet pussy is just what I need right now! 
I don't want it, I need it! Give it to me!"

"Well, then! Not Miss Manners are we? Very well, I said I 
would make you beg, and so you have. But you can do 
better than that, can't you?"

"Oh my God. Lisa... Princess! I need to suck your pussy. 
I will plunge my tongue into you like you were the 
sweetest meal in the heavens. I will massage your clit 
with my tongue. I will do anything to please, but please 
give me your pussy!"

This did the trick. For the twenty minutes I couldn't get 
enough bare pussy rubbed onto my mouth. My tongue could 
have kept up its work for hours given the richness of the 
prize it was receiving. Whether she had any inclination 
to do so or now, Lisa could not disguise her multiple, 
violent orgasms as rode my face with vigorousness 
unmatched by the world's top bull-riders. Finally, I 
remembered my cock. God, what I wouldn't give to get some 
attention for my special organ.

"Very good. You've done that before, I can tell. Perhaps 
now you would like me to make you cum? I bet you'd like a 
sensuous blowjob? Or maybe some cock-cunt action?"

"Yes, I want to fuck you. Suck my cock! Let me slam it in 
that pussy I've made so wet for you!"

"My goodness? Have you forgotten who you are? Has all of 
that pussy juice gone to your head? Remember, you are a 
panty slut. It appears you cannot act properly in this 
role."

Lisa then proceeded to roll my body over, again placing 
my raging hard cock in the most restrictive position. Bad 
enough that it was crowded into some panties that weren't 
exactly my size. Now my full 160 pounds was smashing it 
into her bed. However, my Princess wasn't concerned, and, 
in fact, she continued to increase my agony.

"I'll bet you've never been spanked by a goddess like 
myself!"

Whack! Whack! Princess Lisa wasn't as delicate of a 
spanktress as her self-imposed title would suggest. Ten, 
then twenty slaps to my silk covered ass cheeks left my 
butt on fire and my cock in pure misery. I needed to be 
freed from this position and fucked properly!

"Now perhaps you fully understand your position. I would 
be happy to relieve some of the pressure that must be 
building in your dick now."

Well, good, about time!

"But, I forgot to tell you. I don't give head on the 
first date, and I'm saving my pussy for my groom. Now as 
I'm assuming you're perfectly capable of fucking your own 
fist, might I suggest an anal adventure?"

"You want me to fuck your ass? I'd be honored... 
Princess."

And so, when she finally granted my pleas to be freed 
from her panties, I took full advantage of the 
opportunity to wear my Princess' "crown." When I awoke on 
the floor of Lisa's bedroom the next morning, she was 
already off to cheerleading practice, and Michael was 
already on the lake. 

I went back to my parents' house to get my things and 
start the drive back to be with my future bride. Lisa 
will be at our Bruxton wedding next summer and will 
undoubtedly make quick friends with Jess as we take up 
full-time residence in the town as husband and wife. 

I suppose I can only hope Lisa doesn't decide to squeal. 
At least I can threaten to turn her in for cheating her 
way through Geometry, but I don't have anything on you... 
Be good!

END

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It's okay to *READ* stories about unprotected sex with
others outside a monogamous relationship. But it isn't
okay to *HAVE* unprotected sex with people other than
a trusted partner. You only have one body per lifetime,
so take good care of it!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
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