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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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Ron: Just a Growing Boy 4
by Heatheranne (hthranne@aol.com)
***
The continuing story of a boy coming to grips – so to
speak, with his considerable assets. (Fm, voy, inc,
size, huml)
***
Nancy Webster opened the door to the office of her
boss, Eugene Pearson. On a tray, she was carrying two
mugs and a note pad. She put the tray on a table, and
handed one of the mugs – it contained decaffeinated
coffee with cream and sugar – to Eugene. She was
wearing a tight knee-length skirt, and when she took
her seat she showed off her slim legs up to the mid
thigh. Nancy sipped from her mug, she preferred green
tea, and waited on her boss.
Gene looked up from his computer screen. "Oh, great,"
he said, spying the coffee. He took a loud slurp and
saluted Nancy with the mug. "Thanks, I needed that," he
told her. His eyes lingered on her legs, not to mention
her breasts, silky blonde hair and beautiful face.
"You're welcome," said Nancy. She sat poised with pen
in hand and the notebook on her lap. They talked
business for several minutes. Nancy brought him up to
date on her various projects. Without realizing it,
Gene had been using her more and more to delegate
responsibilities throughout his company. She loved it.
Gene sat back in his chair and took another loud slurp
of his coffee. "One more thing, I want you to find that
young man we were observing the other day."
Nancy knew by the look on his face that he was talking
about the boy in the e-mail - the one with the unusual
cock. "Did you discuss that e-mail with your wife?" she
asked.
"Yes, loudly and at length," he said sheepishly.
"And?"
"And we have agreed to disagree for the time being.
Neither of us wants a divorce," said Gene.
"I see."
"We have separated, of a sort," he said. "I've moved
into one of the guest apartments at the pool." He
sniffed. "It's larger than the home I grew up in, so
it's not much of a hardship." He gave Nancy a
lascivious smile. "As I recall, you expressed an
interest in that young man"
Nancy said, "Well, in the heat of the moment..."
"And we'll recapture that heat," Gene said. "Look, I
bet that boy wasn't as young as he looked. He's
probably some gigolo my wife hired. He shouldn't be too
hard to find."
Nancy decided that if they had stopped discussing
business, then she was going to stop her dutiful
assistant's act. She stood and went to Gene's side. She
steadied herself with one hand on the back of his
executive's chair and bent over. Her heavy blonde hair
brushed his face and her breast rested on his shoulder.
With her free hand she cupped his crotch and gave it an
affectionate squeeze. "And what happens when I find
him?" she breathed in his ear.
Gene glanced to the side. He could see the curve of her
ample breast above her bra cup through the gap in her
blouse. "You... you could have your fun with him of
course, and I-I..."
Nancy let her lips brush the shell of his ear. "You
want to watch, don't you?"
"No... I-I..." he stuttered even as he tried to capture
her hand between his legs.
Nancy suddenly straightened, pleased that she'd reduced
her boss to the level of a schoolboy trying for a
grope. She brushed her hair over her shoulders and
said, "I'll attend to that matter, right away." And
with that, she left his office.
A few minutes later, Nancy sat at her desk. Eyes
closed, she slowly swiveled her office chair from one
side to the other in contemplation mode. She'd been
concerned that Gene would reconcile completely with his
wife, because you never knew which way love would take
someone. They had been very close early in their
marriage – the amalgamation of their names, Ka-Gen, was
the name of Gene's company. But in the matter of sex,
which woman in his life held sway? Was it the nice
looking wife who barely noticed his sexuality, or the
busty blonde assistant who seemed to crave his cock?
Of course 'seemed to' were the operative words there.
Eugene knew what she was doing in fucking her way into
a position of power. Somehow though, he seemed to be
putting the situation in denial. Of course, now it
looked as if he wanted to heat up their relationship by
asking her to put together some sort of threesome.
Nancy picked up a Montblanc pen and twirled it through
her fingers. She wondered how she could bend this
situation to her advantage.
First things first though, after passing three levels
of computer security she brought up the video of the
mystery male and Karen Pearson getting it on. It wasn't
hard to isolate a good picture of the boy before he
disrobed. She put that picture in an e-mail and sent it
off. Picking up her phone, she tapped out an extension
number using the end of her pen.
"How can I help you, Ms. Webster," said a thin, male
voice a few seconds later.
"Good morning, Herb," Nancy said to Herb Bush, the head
of security for her company. Herb Bush had done
something in the federal government – something he
couldn't talk about – before coming to Ka-Gen. He was
very good at his job and you needed someone very good
to keep out the foreign and domestic spies in the
software business.
"I just sent you an e-mail," she continued. She waited,
knowing that he would be bringing up the picture.
"And who's this strapping lad?" he asked a few seconds
later.
"That's what I'm hoping you can find out for me," Nancy
said. "I suggest that you start with the students at
the school where Ms. Pearson works."
"Is he some sort of hacker?" Bush asked. There were
numerous attempts every day to break into the company's
servers.
"No, I just need an ID for now. I'll let you know if
it's something important."
Bush harrumphed into the phone, but he and Nancy worked
well together so he didn't push the matter. "I'll see
what I can find out," he said. They said their
goodbyes.
Nancy went to work on another project. Only thirty
minutes had passed when her phone chirped and she saw
Bush's name on the screen. "Yes, Herb?" she said when
she answered.
"I've found your boy," said Bush. "His name is Ron
Fuller, and you were right about him being a student at
Ms. Pearson's school." He went on to give Nancy his
address and phone number.
"That was quick," Nancy said.
"The marvels of modern computers," Bush said. "Anything
else I can help you with?"
"Actually, there is," she said. "Can you get someone
off company to follow this...uh...Ron Fuller? I need to
know when's out somewhere in public, besides school."
She could hear Bush rearranging himself in his chair.
"That can be expensive. I'll need an OK."
"Route the voucher directly to Mr. Pearson, he'll sign
off on it," Karen said.
"Alright," Bush said in a resigned tone. "How do you
want to handle the information?"
Karen hesitated. She hadn't considered that detail.
When she didn't speak, Bush said, "Tell you what. The
operative can contact me and I'll send you a priority
text message."
Damn he's good, thought Karen. He realizes I'm trying
to keep this at arm's length. "That'll be fine," she
told him.
*
Slap, slap, slap, slap... the steady tattoo of thighs
hitting on thighs and ass filled the room. Ginny Fuller
was on her hands and knees in the center of her queen-
sized bed. Her lover was behind her, giving it to her
good – doggie style. "That's it, baby," she moaned, "no
one's ever filled me like you do." Slap, slap,
slap...she concentrated on keeping up her side of the
rhythmic pounding by thrusting her ass back and forth.
The sexual tension made her crumple the bed sheets in
her fingers. It wouldn't be long now.
She could feel her orgasm building. Her lover clasped
her heaving hips with both hands and threw their hot
fuck into high gear. His massive cock ravaged her
dripping cunt. He'd screwed her through two cums
already and now he was moving twice as fast. He was a
tireless fuck machine. A slick, delicious feeling
flooded her whole body.
She felt her pussy spasm around the big fuck-stick.
"Oooooh, yeahhhhh!" Ginny sobbed. Thrilling ripples of
pleasure shot through her. Her hot cunt milked the
oversized dick that continued to pile drive. She heard
a grunt and suddenly a hot flood of cum stretched and
filled her cunt. She could feel the lava hot surges of
cream flow from her pussy lips and sheet down her legs.
She felt the log of a dick withdraw from her soaked
cunt. The bed bounced as her lover moved, and she fell
over onto her side sated and exhausted. She watched as
the smoothly muscled body of her lover, his only
slightly drooping cock arching obscenely large from his
crotch, turned in her direction.
"We're still going to the mall, aren't we?" he asked.
"Yes, honey," she told her thirteen year old son, "as
soon as we get ready."
"Cool," Ron said. "I get the bathroom first."
*
Nancy looked up into the face of Daniel Price. His eyes
were closed in concentration, or passion or maybe they
were closed simply to keep out the sweat that was
flowing from his brow. He was a good looking guy with a
square jaw and unkempt dirty blonde hair. His skinny,
yet muscular body, and scruffy beard completed his bad
boy look. That look was at odds with his job as a
nerdish programmer at Ka-Gen.
At present, Daniel was doing his best to absolutely
fuck the shit out of Nancy's slippery pussy. They were
both working on their fourth orgasm of the morning and
it wasn't happening fast enough for her. She stretched
out an already wide spread, and very agile leg, and
kicked him in the ass with her heel. "Come on, you son
of a bitch, FUCK ME!" she demanded.
Daniel bit his lower lip and whined, but he managed to
increase the tempo of his plunging hips. Unlike their
mutual boss, Gene Pearson, Daniel had a thick eight
hard inches between his legs. She loved the way it
stretched her cunt lips, and the way it sawed in and
out of her hole. The erotic waves of sex washed through
her. "That's it fucker, that's it, that's it," she
cried. They were on a king-sized bed in a two bedroom
condominium in an exclusive gated community. The condo
was on the books at Ka-Gen as a combination corporate
retreat and guest house, but it was actually Nancy's
residence. Daniel Price was pretty much Nancy's too; he
was merely an adequate programmer, and he knew that
keeping his job meant keeping Nancy happy.
"AH FUCK, FUCK, FUCK," she yelled as she wrapped her
legs around Daniel's waist and ground out her cum
against his hard body.
He shuddered in her arms as her clutching pussy milked
another orgasm out of his body, not that there was much
evidence of it; she'd pretty much drained him dry.
Daniel collapsed half his body weight on her.
On the nightstand next to her bed, Nancy's cell played
a jaunty tune. She stretched out an arm and checked the
display; it was Herb Bush. "Hello," she said after
taking the call.
"Thought I'd give you a call instead of a text, the
Fuller kid is at the North Clift Mall," Bush said.
"Good, thanks," said Nancy. "I'll check back with you
in less than an hour." She cut off the call. "Danny,
get off," she told the hot body lying on top of her.
"Mmmph," was his only response.
His hand was draped across her shoulder. She grasped
his palm, bending it to a right angle and then she
pushed and twisted at the same time.
"Ow, ow, OW..." he cried in increasing volume as he
rolled away in pain. "You don't have dislocate
anything." Daniel flexed his aching wrist a few times
and threw his arm over his eyes. His shriveled dick
looked red and sore.
Nancy stood from the bed and said, "Duty calls, hop
up."
"It's Saturday," Daniel said in mumbled protest.
"Go," said Nancy. "I'm out of here in fifteen minutes."
It was actually twenty minutes later when Nancy checked
her look in the full length mirror of her bedroom.
Daniel had disappeared. She had showered just long
enough to erase the smells of sex and sweat. She'd
dressed in slacks and a belted jacket by Donna Karan.
The dark slacks showed off her ass nicely, and the
beige cashmere v-neck accented her prominent tits with
a bit of cleavage. Makeup, a hint of gold jewelry and
sensible pumps completed the outfit of a young business
woman who intended to be noticed.
Putting her bag over her shoulder, Nancy took the
elevator to the ground floor parking garage where her
car, a nearly new, metallic blue Corvette Z06 was
parked. It was a sexy looking car for a sexy looking
owner. She entered the car, started the five hundred
plus horsepower engine, and with a chirp of the wide
rear tires she was off to the mall.
She got on the cross town expressway; it was two lanes
going either way. There wasn't much traffic and she was
content to follow a delivery van that was doing
slightly over the speed limit. A pickup in the left
lane slowly came abreast of her car and then began to
creep past. The driver had a cell phone to his ear. His
right wrist was flopped over the steering wheel and he
was making all sorts of gestures as he spoke. It was
obvious that his mind was more on his conversation than
his driving. That was when Nancy heard the unmistakable
flat staccato sound of a barely muffled four cylinder
engine. She checked her side mirror and saw that a
street racer type – it was a Honda or maybe a Mazda –
had run up behind the pickup.
The pickup finally managed to pass Nancy and now the
loud streeter was even with her car. There were two
teenage boys in the car and they openly ogled Nancy and
her Corvette by turns. She shifted her gaze to give the
boys a cool once over and then she grinned evilly.
*
It was hardly the first time she'd grinned at other
drivers. It had begun when she was five. Her father
bought her a five horsepower go-cart for Christmas. He
took her to their back yard where he'd laid out a
figure eight track with some old boxes. He made sure
that she was strapped in and that her helmet fit just
right and then he yanked on the rope starter a couple
of times to get the motor running. Once the little
engine sputtered to life, Nancy pushed her right foot
down as far as it would go, and she didn't let up until
the little single cylinder engine ran out of gas.
That had been only the beginning of her karting career.
Her father owned a power equipment business that sold
and serviced lawn mowers and other lawn equipment. Most
of his advertising budget went into the karts that
Nancy drove in competition. She developed the habit of
giving a nasty smile to the boys as she out braked them
or stole their line into a corner just as she zoomed
past.
That didn't make her popular and she had to absorb some
hard looks and angry words. Those looks from the boys
took a turn when she began to develop. By age sixteen
she had a body that even the most unrevealing race wear
couldn't hide.
Her team, made up of her father and a couple of guys
from the shop, were preparing for the upcoming season.
Dad had applied for support from their engine supplier,
Maxkartpower. Their previous season had gone so well,
he had thought that with more money they could contend
for a national championship. A representative of
Maxkartpower was coming by to look at their operation.
But things took an odd turn that day. With a sickening
feeling in her stomach, Nancy watched as the paramedics
loaded her mother into the back of an ambulance. Good
ol' Mom had stood on the top rung of a step ladder
while cleaning, and then she had stretched out just a
hair too far. The ladder had tipped over, trapping her
foot. In the twisting fall, Nancy's mother had broken
both bones in her right calf.
Nancy's father walked up beside her. He put his arm
around Nancy's shoulder and said, "She's in no danger,
she'll be fine. She'll ache and be a pain in the ass,
but she'll be fine." The emotion in his voice belied
his attempt at a light tone. "Now, I'm going to the
hospital with her. You'll have to meet the guy from
Max."
"No, Dad," Nancy protested. "Can't we put that off?"
"I know how you feel, baby, but I got the application
in late. This guy is seeing us only because we're on
his way to some convention."
"Sam or Jackson can talk to him," Nancy protested,
naming her father's two employees who made up her
karting crew.
Her dad shook his head. "Those guys volunteer too many
hours as it is. Besides, you'll make a much better
impression than those two grease stained monkeys."
Nancy sighed a long sigh of teen angst.
"Good," said her father, knowing that was all the
acquiescence he was going to get. From his back pocket,
he pulled a wallet the size of a paperback book. It was
his personal data storage. He thumbed through a thick
wad of notes and business cards, finally picking out a
shred torn from notebook paper. He handed it to Nancy.
"Here's his name, Bret Harrington, and his flight
number and well, you can see the rest."
"Okay, Dad," she said with resignation as she took the
paper.
He gave her a hug. "I'll tell your mother where you
are," he said. "Although, I might wait until she's
sedated," he muttered. "Anyway, come by the hospital
when you can."
Nancy nodded. "Tell her I love her," she said to her
father's back as he hustled toward his truck.
She went into the house and checked on Harrington's
flight. It was on time, even so, she decided that she
had enough time to shower. Thirty minutes later, she
was dressed in fashionably faded jeans, navy v-neck tee
shirt and a pair of pink Keds. She took the family
Explorer; it was like driving a battleship in
comparison to her kart, but she arrived at the airport
in good order.
Nancy held up the sheet of paper with 'Harrington' she
had printed on it with a magic marker. She joined a
line of people with similar signs, along with people
who obviously knew who they were looking for. She
watched the flyers come in from the plane, trying to
guess which man he might be. She imagined someone like
her father – middle age, thinning hair and a paunch.
Indeed, there was more than one man like that. Some of
them were peering at the signs, looking for their
names. One man in a wrinkled suit squinted at her sign.
She was about to speak to him when a voice said, "You
must be Nancy Webster."
Nancy shifted her gaze into a wonderfully blue pair of
eyes. "Yes...yes that's me," she said. She took in the
rest of the man who had just spoken. Good Lord, she
thought, he looks like a soap opera star. Bret
Harrington was tall, thirtyish and gorgeous. He had
full, dark hair, a square jaw and dimples. His lean
frame was dressed in khakis, a denim shirt, navy blazer
and a pair of expensive looking loafers. As they shook
hands, his eyes wandered down to her chest.
Caught you looking, thought Nancy. "My dad couldn't
make it," she said as they walked their way out of the
terminal. She explained about her mother's accident.
"I'm so sorry, that's awful," Bret said.
"I guess you're stuck with me for a tour of the shop,"
Nancy said.
"I don't think 'stuck with you' is the appropriate
phrase," he said with a warm smile.
They went to the lot and retrieved the Explorer. Nancy
negotiated the highway toward the city. As they neared
the exit for Bret's hotel, she asked, "Would you like
to go straight to the shop? Your hotel is the next
exit."
"Please, let's stop at the hotel first," Bret said.
When she pulled to a stop outside the lobby, he checked
his watch. He rubbed at his chin in thought for a
couple of seconds and said, "I'll tell you what. I
really need to make some phone calls. Why don't you
join me here for dinner, in say two hours? Then we can
talk business."
Nancy hesitated for only a second. Her father had
insisted that she take care of this guy so she couldn't
honestly complain about any time restraint. Besides,
dinner with Bret was an attractive proposition. "I can
do that," she told him.
She drove home and immediately called the hospital. She
was put through to her mother's room. "Hey, Dad," she
said once he had answered the phone. "How's Mom doing?"
"They put her on some heavy duty pain killers. She's
been dozing on and off. The orthopedist said that he'd
have to put a rod in her tibia. They're going to
operate tomorrow sometime." They speculated for several
minutes about how they were going to care for her
mother once she was home. Then Nancy filled him in on
Bret Harrington.
"He's not some lecherous old coot?" her father asked.
Nancy laughed. "No, as a matter of fact, he's thirty
something and very handsome," she said.
"Damn, I think I'd like a dirty old man better than a
young one. But I know you can handle him."
*
They said their goodbyes. Nancy took a quick shower and
then began the task of deciding what to wear. Bret's
hotel catered to business men and tourists, so she
wanted to wear something nice, but casual. The dining
room was likely to be filled with people in t-shirts,
shorts and flip-flops. She settled on a pair of forest
green shorts that were of a decent length – as her
mother would have said – and a gold, sleeveless top. It
was gathered at the waist so as to hint at the style of
a bustier. She put on eye liner, lip gloss and just
enough powder to smooth her face. She slipped into a
pair of sandals with a low wedge. She'd be eye to eye
with Bret now.
She drove back to the hotel and arrived a few minutes
early. Bret was seated in the lobby, tapping at his
Blackberry. He stood as she entered and gave her an
appreciative look. The dining room was nice, if a
little noisy. They both had steak, potato and salad
bar. Bret had a couple of glasses of wine, while Nancy
had to stick to iced tea.
After the meal Nancy drove them to her father's
business. She parked next to the repair shop, and they
entered through a side door. Nancy very carefully cut
off the burglar alarm and flipped on the lights. They
had to walk through a maze of mowers that were waiting
for repair in order to reach the corner that was
devoted to her kart.
"Here we are," announced Nancy as she gestured with a
wave of her hand. Her kart was on a waist high stand.
One of the rear wheels was off where one of the crew
had been working on the brake. On the wall was hung an
extra chassis and other major components sat on a
nearby shelf. Everything was spotless. Her father
insisted that his crew spend the last twenty minutes of
the work day in cleaning the shop and returning every
tool to its storage area.
"Very nice," said Bret. He looked everything over; he
even opened drawers and eyed the racked tools. "Do you
have your budget and race schedule handy?" he asked.
"Oh, yeah," said Nancy. She had forgotten about that.
"It's in the office." She picked her was back across
the repair area, walked down a hallway and entered the
shop's office. This was the domain of Florence, an
elderly lady who kept the books and acted as cashier
for the business. A folder sat squared up evenly on the
blotter of her immaculate desk, right where Nancy's
father had said it would be.
She turned to leave the office, but Bret had trailed
her and was standing in the doorway. She handed the
file to him. He glanced over the papers, nodding his
head as he read. When he closed the file, Nancy asked,
"So, how did we do?"
"Well," said Bret, "there are three levels of aid from
Max: A, B and C. We give C-level to pretty much anyone
who buys our engine. It's just some advanced technical
support. B-level teams get free hats and jackets and
some travel money when they show the Max advertising.
A-level teams get all that plus engines that have been
breathed upon, as the saying goes, by our racing
experts."
"Oh, I see," said Nancy. "So where do we stand?"
Locking his eyes on hers, Bret stepped near and leaned
past Nancy in order to put the file back on the desk.
His chest was almost brushing her tits when he said,
"Your team is a solid B, but very near to qualifying
for A."
Nancy didn't back away. She didn't even glance away
from Bret's steady gaze. "What puts us up to an A-
level?" she asked softly.
"It depends on my judgment of the team, and of the
driver's commitment. How committed are you, Nancy?" he
said just as softly.
Nancy wasn't sure who kissed who first, but their lips
met. Oh my God, he can really kiss, she thought. He
tasted of wine and the mints they'd had after dinner.
His lips were firm and moist and his tongue was very
playful. Not like the high school boys she was use to.
They tended to go for her tonsils immediately.
Bret couldn't believe this was happening. He was
happily married and had a child. He didn't need to
insinuate a bribe to get sex. But this girl was
unbelievably hot. She wasn't shy, and she didn't act
coy. He bet that a boy who made at pass at Nancy either
got laid fast and hard, or got kicked in the balls. Her
tongue was fluttering around in his mouth, and those
two glorious mounds of her breasts, the ones he'd been
trying hard not to stare at all evening, were pressed
firmly against his chest. Damn, he was hard. His dick
was a steel rod in his slacks and he knew she could
feel it.
Nancy reached between their bodies and squeezed Bret's
hard-on. He shuddered and moaned into her mouth. Even
as she played with his tongue, she began to calculate
just how far to take this. She ran her palm up and down
the bulge of his rigid shaft. His hips pulsed back and
forth, dry fucking her hand. That gave her an idea.
Bret felt abandoned when Nancy broke their kiss. Was
she going to leave him with a case of blue balls? He
hadn't put her down as some sort of cock tease, but you
never could tell.
Nancy sat at the desk chair and said, "Pull down your
pants; I think Flo has just what we need here
somewhere."
He had no idea who Flo was, although he assumed she was
whoever worked at that desk. His hands flew as he undid
his belt, unbuttoned and unzipped his pants and pushed
them to his knees. His cock was clearly outlined
against his underwear. There was a wet stain where the
tip pressed against the white material. The hot teen
had him leaking pre-cum already.
He watched as Nancy pulled open and shut a couple of
drawers, evidently searching for something. "Here we
go," she said as she pulled a tube of aloe cream out of
the desk. She looked at his lumpy underwear and smiled
indulgently at Bret. "These go too," she said and
pulled down his skivvies to release seven inches of
slender man-meat. The twitching cock had a slight curve
to the left. She took the cap off the tube and squirted
a generous helping of skin cream into her palm.
Bret pulled his shirttail out of the way. He was pretty
sure he knew what was coming next. Nancy rubbed her
palms together and then reached for his straining cock.
He expected her to simply grab his dick and pound away,
but to his surprise, her touch was much gentler.
She began by simply running her fingertips back and
forth along the length of his pulsing dick. She tickled
his balls as she let them fall across her fingers. A
stream of clear pre-cum leaked from his distended slit.
Nancy caught it on the tip of her finger and massaged
the hot liquid into the head of his dick.
She began to stroke him lightly massaging the length of
his cock with first one hand and then the other. She
stroked downward with both hands for a few seconds and
then upwards. Then she held the base of his cock with
one hand, and with the other she worked her fingers in
a corkscrew motion around the flared head.
"Oh, Nancy, that's unbelievable," he said with a gasp.
He was in heaven, but it wasn't going to last. He'd
been on the road for over a week with no sex, no wet
dreams; he hadn't even masturbated. The pressure was
too much. But she must have sensed his eminent orgasm
because suddenly she stopped and went back to the light
caresses of her fingertips.
She brought him to the peak once more, and once more
she stopped short of bringing him off. Bret's hands
fluttered at his sides. She had him dying to cum and he
loved it, but it was all he could do not to grab his
dick and pound away like a horny kid.
"You're killing me," he moaned.
Nancy simply smiled at the look of sexual agony on
Bret's face. "Okay," she said with a wink. She formed a
circle just under his cock-head with her forefinger and
thumb. Then she began to rub that sensitive area with
the lightest of touches.
Bret thought his cock was going to explode from the
pressure brought about by her teasing touch. His cock-
head was swollen and turning purple. It was only a
couple of minutes but it seemed as if an age had passed
before he was able to moan, "Oh, shit... I'm going to
cum... oh, Nancyyyyy!"
A shot of cock-cream leapt from the end of his dick and
fell on Nancy's hand. She felt his cock pulse time and
again. She twisted her hand on his dick-head as more
hot, thick cream flowed over her fingers. She was
impressed by amount of spunk. She laughed and said,
"You were saving up, weren't you?"
"Oh, shit, baby... yeah, it's been a while," he said as
his breathing returned to normal. He felt as if he'd
run a marathon.
Fortunately, Flo's desk yielded up a box of tissues. In
a few minutes, they were cleaned up and Bret was zipped
up. The evidence was flushed away.
"So, do we rate the A-level funding?" Nancy asked as
they walked out of the building.
"Oh, yeah, no problem there," Bart said.
"Cool," said Nancy. So do you sign the papers now or
what?"
"Well, it doesn't quite work like that," Bret said.
"Your father will have to fill out requests for
different types of funding, and..." He stopped when he
saw Nancy's face begin to cloud up in anger. He held up
his hands to forestall the storm. "Hey, I can prepare a
letter of agreement the second I can get to my
briefcase."
They drove back to his hotel. Nancy parked the Explorer
and got out at the same time as Bret. She took his arm
as they walked to the door. "You don't trust me about
that letter?" he asked in amusement as they crossed the
lobby and waited for the elevator.
The elevator arrived, and they stepped in followed by
an elderly couple. As the elevator rose, Nancy put her
lips next to his ear and said softly, "I trust you
about the letter all right." She reached down and
cupped his cock and balls. "I just thought that you
might be in shape by now to fuck my brains out."
The old man, who was standing in front of them, turned
his head to look at Nancy. His wife cleared her throat
in a no nonsense manner, and he jerked his eyes back to
the front of the elevator cab.
The elevator stopped and the couple left the cab. Just
before they passed out of sight, the man craned his
head back and gave Nancy a broad wink. She laughed as
the door closed.
*
Nancy grinned evilly at the boys in the Honda – she'd
decided that the coupe, tricked out in hideous green
with black accent stripes, had begun life as a stock
Honda. She downshifted from sixth to fifth to fourth to
third, double-clutching with each gear change.
The Honda driver inched closer to the pickup. He
glanced back and forth between it and Nancy's Corvette,
obviously waiting for the first instant where he could
swerve in front of her.
Nancy watched that gap too, and just before it opened
she smoothly pushed her right foot to the floor. The
monster v-eight roared and the 'Vette shot forward. For
an instant, she thought she'd misjudged the distance
between the van to her front and the pickup to her
left, but the gap was there and she shot through it.
She checked her rearview mirror. The Honda swerved
right in an attempt to follow, but now the pickup and
van blocked its way.
Nancy lifted her foot off the throttle; she was already
doing eighty-five. She shifted into sixth gear and let
the car's speed drift down to the speed limit. There
was no need for her to have to talk her way out of a
speeding ticket. The traffic thickened as she drove
through downtown and then thinned once more on the
other side. She kept an eye on the traffic to her rear
and sure enough, she soon saw the Honda quickly eating
up the distance between them.
She didn't have time to play with these yahoos. There
was an exit ahead; it wasn't the one she wanted, but
she could use it. A glance in the mirror told her that
the Honda was going recklessly fast. The exit lane
began and curved away to her right as it widened,
leaving an unused strip of asphalt, full of dust,
gravel and bits of tire, between the lanes.
Just as the Honda would have to brake to match her
speed, Nancy jerked the Corvette onto the dirty
divider. The car began to slide; she had expected that
and she corrected her steering for it, trying not to
look at the blunt, collapsible abutment growing ever
larger in her side window. She heard the scream of
locked tires behind her as the Honda tried to slow for
the exit, but she knew they wouldn't make it. Finally,
the sticky Goodyears on her Corvette caught traction
and she went cruising down the exit road. She looked to
her left and saw the Honda vanishing down the
expressway. "Ta-ta, guys," she said as she pulled up to
a red light.
"Call Bush," Nancy said distinctly to her car phone as
she neared the North Clift Mall. When he answered, she
asked, "Where's our subject?"
Bush chuckled at her nomenclature and said, "Wait one."
Less than a minute later he was back. "Like a good boy,
he's at The VideoGamester," he said, mentioning a shop
that, as one would expect, specialized in video and
computer games.
"Thanks, Herb, I know where that is. You can pull your
guy off now," Nancy said.
"No problem, just remember me when the Christmas
bonuses come out."
"You know I will," said Nancy. "See you." She broke the
connection.
Nancy parked the 'Vette and hustled inside the mall
entrance nearest VideoGamester. She hurried down a
short hallway and came to a sitting area situated under
a skylight. On the other side of the sitting area was
the entrance to VideoGamester. She took a seat on a
bench and pulled out her cell phone. She feigned a call
while she peered into the small store. It wasn't hard
to spot Ron Fuller. He was playing one of the game
systems the store had on display.
He'd let his hair grow out mop top style in the latest
trend for boys. He was wearing lose fitting jeans and
shirt. He was taller than she thought he would be. Of
course she hadn't been studying his height in the video
where she'd first seen him. Thinking of that video, her
eyes drifted to his crotch. Well, he was wearing loose
cargo pants and an oversized polo shirt that came
nearly to his knees. If he had a noticeable cock bulge
through all that, he'd be grotesque.
Nancy put up her phone and took a notepad and a pen
from her bag. Ron had stopped playing and now he was
ambling out of the store. Nancy intercepted him within
a few steps and said, "Hi, I noticed you coming out of
the game store, do you have a few minutes to answer
some questions?"
Ron looked startled as the beautiful blonde spoke to
him. It was all he could do not to speak directly into
her bosom when he said, "Uhhh... yeah, I guess so."
"Great, if you don't mind we'll sit over here," Nancy
said, gesturing to one of the empty benches. "My
company is taking a survey on what the average video
game player likes."
Nancy had taken classes at MIT that related directly to
game design. It wasn't hard to dazzle Ron with some
tech-speak. They talked for several minutes as Nancy
made unnecessary notes, purely for Ron's benefit. When
it looked as if his attention was about to wander, she
said, "We have some openings for young people like
yourself to come by our offices and give us your
opinion on some cutting edge consumer technology. How
would you like to be one?"
Ron hesitated.
Nancy gave him her warmest smile. "It's not a test or
anything, and I'll be with you the whole time."
That reassured Ron. He said, "I'll have to tell my mom,
but that sounds cool."
At that moment his pants began to play the Darth Vader
theme from 'Star Wars.' Ron pulled out his cell phone.
"Hey, Mom," he said as he answered. "Yeah, I'll be
there in just a minute, bye." He slid the phone back in
his pants. "That's her now; I'm supposed to join her in
the food court."
"Oh," said Nancy, "why don't I come along and meet
her?"
"Okay, sure," said Ron.
They made their way the food court. Ron led the way
through the rows of bolted down, plastic coated tables
to where an attractive brunette was sipping at a soda.
There were several shopping bags on and beneath her
table.
As they approached, Ron said, "Mom, this is...uh,"
"Nancy, Nancy Webster," she said, coming to Ron's
Rescue. She stuck out her hand.
"Nice to meet you. I'm Ginny," she said, taking Nancy's
hand. The look on her face made it clear that she was
wondering why some stranger was walking around with her
son. Between Ron and Nancy, they filled her in on the
invitation.
"Well, that sound interesting," she said, looking at
Ron. "Would you like to do it?"
Ron nodded.
"Well, that's great," said Nancy before there could be
any more discussion. She took a business card from her
bag and wrote on its back. She handed the card to
Ginny. "If you could bring Ron to this address on
Saturday – say about two o'clock?"
Once everything was settled, Nancy took the opportunity
to do some shopping. She wandered through a few stores
and then headed back to her car. The mall's parking
garage had two levels. Nancy had backed her Corvette
into a spot that abutted one of the ramps to the upper
level. The spot was out of way and she had used it in
an effort to avoid parking lot dings and scratches. She
had to walk farther to get into the mall of course, but
she didn't mind.
When Nancy came into sight of her car she saw that
someone had parked next to her Corvette despite its out
of the way status. "Aw shit," she muttered. The car
next to hers was the ugly green Honda. The two guys
were leaning against its fender. A loud bass line was
thudding from the car's speakers. She might have
expected this. It wouldn't have been a huge leap of
logic for them to search the local mall parking for her
fairly unique car.
Nancy made sure that her car keys were set firmly in
her fingers just in case she had to gouge out an eye.
She studied the two young men as she walked closer. One
was a little over six feet with blonde, surfer-boy
hair. The other guy was darker, shorter and stockier
with dark, also shaggy hair. They were both dressed in
jeans and tees. The blonde was wearing sandals, and his
friend was shod with some sort of boots. She guessed
that they were around twenty years old, maybe college
students; maybe slackers with nothing better to do than
stalk women.
When she got nearer, the blonde said, "Hey, what's up?"
At least she thought that's what he said. The music was
echoing off the cement walls of the garage and it was
obviously going to make conversation impossible. She
smiled and held up her forefinger to signal them to
wait. She went to the door of the Honda, opened it and
switched the car's ignition from the accessory position
to off.
"That's better," she said. "Nice sound system, nice
car," she added, lying through her teeth.
"Thanks," said the blonde. "You know, we almost wrecked
trying to catch you."
Nancy shrugged. "I didn't ask for you to chase me."
"Oh yes you did. A hot blonde babe in a Corvette like
that, who runs off like you did is just begging to be
followed," said the blonde with what looked like an
attempt at a charming grin.
"Well, now you've caught me," she said coolly. "What do
you want?"
"How about a date?" the blonde said. "We can talk
cars."
"I don't think so," Nancy said. "I don't think you can
afford it." She stepped toward her car, but the blonde
stepped in her way, and the other guy moved a step and
looked as if was ready to block her from the other
side.
"Don't worry about an expensive meal," the blonde guy
said. "It's what will come afterwards that you'll
really like."
"Oh?" said Nancy. She pointedly looked down at his
crotch. "Do you have anything worth my time?"
"We both do." This came from the dark haired guy. He
reached to his groin and adjusted himself. The blonde
didn't seem very pleased that his buddy had intruded.
Nancy pursed her lips and looked the twosome over as if
she was considering their offer. She said, "Okay, why
don't we cut to the chase. Tell you what; I'll let the
guy fuck me who has the biggest dick. The other one
gets a blow job – just so he won't feel left out. In
fact, I'll do him first."
That got the guys' attention. The blonde one looked at
his friend and said, "Hey, At least you get sucked
off."
"I've seen your dick. I wasn't too impressed," the
darker one said. He looked at Nancy. "Where and when?"
"Right here, and right now," said Nancy. "Otherwise,
forget it."
"In a fucking parking garage?" said the blonde,
sounding incredulous as he looked around.
"That's right," she said. "What's the matter? We'll do
it between the cars. Being outside - the danger that we
might get caught - that just spices things up."
Now it was the blonde's turn to purse his lips in
thought. On the other side of the ramp, he could hear
the sounds of car doors being opened and closed. A
hundred feet away, on the access road, the occasional
car drove by. There didn't seem to be a high likelihood
that they would be caught. Not that it mattered. The
curvaceous woman before him had a real smirk on her
face. She was just daring him.
"Alright," the blonde said. He pulled down his zipper,
and a second later he heard his friend do the same.
The blonde was already half hard. This was going down
like a letter in a man's magazine. Maybe those
vignettes weren't all lies. Maybe ordinary guys did get
laid by strangers in strange places. He stroked his
dick up to a full hard-on. A few feet away his buddy
was actually pulling on his dick, stretching it from
his pant's fly.
Nancy couldn't believe they were going along with this.
Well, that wasn't quite true. She was used to guys
doing pretty much whatever she wanted once she'd gotten
their blood flowing out of their brains and into their
cocks. She examined the two dicks before her. They were
both perfectly ordinary.
"Hmmm...it's close, but I think you get the blow job,"
she told the dark haired guy.
The dark haired guy looked at his friend's dick and
then said to Nancy, "I could argue the point, but I
don't think I'm really losing out."
Nancy hit the remote on her key fob and door to her
Corvette unlocked with a solid clunk.
"Hey, where're you going?"
"Don't worry," said Nancy. "I'm just going to sit here.
You can stick that nice, fat hunk of meat in the
window."
"Oh, yeah, I see," said the dark haired guy.
Nancy was a little surprised that they were going to
let her get in her car – these guys were really
thinking with their hard-ons. She got into the Corvette
and put the key in the ignition. She put down the
driver's side window. The young man came close and put
his hard-on close enough for her to get to. She licked
the end of her forefinger, and then she swirled it
around the red head of his dick. While she did that she
checked for traffic, put in the 'Vette's clutch, made
sure the transmission was in reverse gear, started the
engine and let the car leap backward twenty feet.
Nancy turned the wheel and squirted the car down to the
access road where she turned hard left and stopped so
that she could see what her two erstwhile lovers were
doing. She knew the dark haired guy probably had a
bruised cock. It had dragged across the edge of the
window as she had pulled out.
The twosome had already jumped into the Honda. Seconds
passed, and then the driver's door opened and the
blonde jumped out. He gave her the finger with both
hands, pumping them up and down for emphasis as he
screamed, "Fuck you, bitch."
"Now that wasn't very nice," Nancy said. She stuck her
hand out the window and jangled the keys to the Honda.
She had palmed them when she had turned off the Honda's
sound system. She flipped the keys over the top of the
Corvette, and then turned her head to see them fly over
a guard rail and down an embankment. She imagined that
it would take at least a few minutes of looking before
they could be found.
*
The following Saturday, Nancy was in the guard house at
the main gate of Ka-Gen. She chatted with the guard –
another of Herb Bush's retired policeman named Phil.
A Toyota Avalon pulled up to the gate. Nancy could see
that it was Ron and his mother. As she watched, Ron
gave his mother a goodbye kiss on the lips that had
Nancy lifting an eyebrow in surprise. Well, different
strokes for different folks, she thought. She and her
mother usually exchanged air kisses, and her father was
into rib-cracking bear hugs.
Nancy picked a visitor's pass from a box. "Okay to use
this one?" she asked Phil.
"That's fine, Ms. Webster," the guard said, making a
notation of the pass' number on a clipboard.
Nancy met Ron as he stepped out of the car. "Hi, Ron,"
she said, shaking his hand.
The Ka-Gen company occupied several buildings. The
administration building, where Nancy and Ron were
headed, was practically deserted on weekends. Nancy had
to swipe her employee pass through a card reader and
then enter a code into a keypad in order to get through
the front door. She had to use her pass again to use
the elevator, and then once more to enter a room
designated 'Conference – A' by a small bronze plaque.
"You guys don't trust anybody," Ron said as Nancy they
entered the room.
Nancy laughed. "You're right. It's a cutthroat
business; we can't afford to take chances." Once they
entered the room, she tapped in a code on the inner
lock. Now no one could get in the room unless she let
them in. That wasn't quite true. In case of an
emergency, security could open the room and of course,
Gene Pearson, the head of the company had access.
Conference-A looked like a small theatre. At the end of
the room was a screen about eight feet high and twelve
feet wide. There were a dozen plush, leather seats for
viewers. Behind those seats were two more, but these
had a console between them. The console sported a
keyboard and monitor on a swing arm. Nearest the door
was a conference table of polished wood and matching
chairs. A thick rug carpeted the floor. Muted lighting
gave the room an intimate atmosphere.
The room was used for presentations to prospective
clients. It had one big wow factor. The screen wasn't
used to reflect projected images. It was one huge,
seamless high definition monitor. The power of the
multi-processor computer used to run the screen was
just as impressive. The setup was for sale. The
government had purchased a few, and it was disinclined
to see the technology leave the country, so that made
the pool of potential buyers very small. An individual
needed to have the word billionaire appended to his
name in order to even think about buying one.
"Have a seat over there," Nancy told Ron. She pointed
to the seat to the right of the console. She sat in the
other leather upholstered seat and adjusted the
keyboard until it hung just above her lap. She tapped
on the keys. The dusty street of an old west town
appeared on the screen. A second later, the barrel of a
pistol and a crosshair came up. Nancy opened a drawer
in the console and withdrew a game controller. "Give it
a try," she said, handing the controller to Ron.
"Oh cool," said Ron. "This is an awesome set up." He
set out to track down the bad guys. He entered a
building and walked to the center of a room. They could
hear footsteps and the creak of a wooden floor from
speakers placed low in the conference room. Ron
actually turned his head to see if there was someone to
his right. The sound system was just as impressive as
the visuals.
As Ron blasted away at an armed intruder, Nancy heard a
soft chirp from the keyboard and monitor. She looked
down to see a message. It was from her boss, Gene. It
said: 'How's it going?'
She looked up to a point just above the big screen.
There was a concealed camera there. It was used to
gauge the viewers' reactions to whatever was being
shown on the big screen. She lifted one eyebrow and
tilted her head just enough to imply that she was the
one doing all the heavy lifting here and she didn't
need his interference.
'Just wondering,' popped up on her screen. Nancy
suppressed a smile. She could imagine Gene sitting in
his big executive chair, casually groping at his crotch
in anticipation of what he hoped was coming soon.
Nancy let Ron play for several minutes and then she
judged it was time to move on. She said to him, "Okay,
let's try something different." She tapped at her
keyboard and the scene of battle on the big screen
faded away to be replaced by a view of sand, surf, palm
trees and, off to the left, a volleyball net. On the
far side of the net were two life size Asian beauties
clad in bikinis.
Both women had dark hair. although one had shoulder
length tresses and the other wore hers very short. The
girl with the short hair had a tattoo of a dragon above
her left breast. And there was a lot of breast flesh to
be seen as her bikini, as well as the one her partner
wore, was on the skimpy side. The women seemed to be
waiting on something or someone. The one with the long
hair casually tossed a volleyball up and down as she
talked quietly to her partner. Occasionally, one of
them would look through the net and giggle.
"Move the left joystick until you can see me," said a
familiar voice to the left of Ron and Nancy.
"Hmmm?" said Ron, looking confused.
"It's the tutorial part of the game," said Nancy.
"Oh, yeah," said Ron. He move the joystick and the view
on the screen swung around. Now the background was a
set of bleachers fronted by colorful flags waving in
the sea breeze. But in front of that, on the volleyball
court, was a gorgeous, busty young woman. Her thick,
long blonde hair swayed in the light wind. Her bikini
was little more than thick ribbons that hid her areolas
and vulva.
"It's you," said Ron.
"Yes, it is," Nancy said. The programming team for this
game had come to her and asked her, pleaded actually,
if she would be their primary model. She had spent
hours in a black body suit studded with white balls
while a computer mapped out her contortions as she
spiked, served and set balls thrown over a net. Once
inside the computer, the programmers had smoothed out
some of her more awkward moves so that her near photo-
realistic volleyball avatar looked like a real pro.
"How do you like the suit?" Nancy asked with a grin. No
girl would wear such a skimpy bikini to play in. She'd
be naked about twenty seconds into the game. Computer
magic let her tits sway and bobble about all they
wanted without fear of being exposed.
"It's...uh... cool," Ron said, not meeting her eye. He
was dying here. He was so freaking horny that it wasn't
funny.
*
It had begun last night. Ordinarily, he would have
screwed his mother once or twice – okay, it was a
Friday night, so maybe four or five times. Anyway, she
was in charge of a dinner; some big shot at her work
was retiring. She'd left the house in the late
afternoon and he'd decided that he wouldn't beat off or
anything; he'd just wait for her juicy pussy. But then
there'd been an impromptu meeting after the dinner, and
his mom had had to stay for that. So he'd been asleep
when she returned, and she'd been too tired to wake
him.
Since Ron had stayed up late waiting for Ginny to come
home, he had slept late on Saturday morning, and he'd
awakened with a fierce morning hard-on. He'd heard his
mom puttering around in the kitchen; no doubt getting
ready for their usual Saturday morning breakfast of
waffles. He'd jumped out of bed and given his cock a
couple of strokes. Instantly, he was ready for sex. He
wasn't even going to take a piss. He didn't care what
she was doing in the kitchen; his mother was going to
get drilled, or give him a blow-job, or something. He
strode into the kitchen with his dick swing from side
to side as if it were a meaty club clearing the way.
That was when Jenny's laptop - she always left it open
on the counter, began to chirp. Jenny glanced at the
screen and then turned to Ron and his rampant cock.
"It's that appointment we made for you with that woman
at Ka-Gen," she said, inclining her head at the
computer display.
"Oh, come on, something quick," Ron had said.
The more they screwed, the more pliant his mother
became. But this time she had shaken her head, saying,
"We made an agreement, honey, and we've just got time
for you to shower and get there. Besides, we'll have
the rest of the day together." She bent over and kissed
the head of his throbbing erection. "Save it for later,
for me."
"Oh, alright," he'd grumbled as he stomped out of the
kitchen.
*
Now, on the screen, a life size Nancy was telling him
how to use the controller in order to play the game. He
was having trouble following her instructions because
every little move she made had her tits swaying
provocatively. He cut his eyes to the left and stole a
peek at the very real mounds that the true Nancy had in
her t-shirt. She looked hot. The silky looking top
hugged and defined her big boobs. And the short shorts
she had on really showed off her long, smooth legs. Ron
kind of doubted that she wore stuff like this to work
every day, but it was a Saturday.
He shifted in his seat, causing his dick to ache even
more. His balls felt like two swollen and inflamed
rocks between his legs. His dick was crammed into his
shorts, else it would be practically poking through the
front of his pants about now.
Ron finally managed to get his head back in the game.
He learned to move around the court, spiking, setting
and digging shots with demonstrations from the on
screen Nancy.
After several minutes of play, Nancy asked, "So, how do
you like that one?"
"Cool, the players look really great," Ron said.
Nancy smiled. "I meant the game play."
"Oh, yeah," said Ron, "it's cool too." They talked
about the game for a few minutes.
Nancy entered a series of commands on her keyboard. "I
have one more thing for you to look at," she said.
Ron watched the screen expectantly as the game faded
away to be replaced by what looked like a bedroom, or
maybe a hotel room. Across the room a door opened and
he saw himself enter the room, followed closely by
Karen Pearson.
"Whaaa....uhhh..." he said in wonderment, gesturing at
the screen.
"You didn't know that you were being videoed?" Nancy
asked.
"No...no I didn't," Ron said. He squirmed in
embarrassment, knowing what would be happening on the
screen in a few minutes. In fact it was happening now.
The video had been edited. There he was, practically
life sized, getting his dick licked and sucked by Ms.
Pearson.
"Ron, do you know who runs Ka-Gen?" Nancy asked.
Ron was glad to be able to pull his eyes away from the
screened fellatio. Nancy had a playful look in her
eyes. He shook his head no in answer to her question.
"His name is Eugene Pearson and..." she gestured to the
woman on the screen with a mouth full of oversized boy-
cock.
"He's Ms. Pearson's husband?" Ron asked, a definite
hint of 'oh shit' in his voice.
"Don't worry," she said. "You're not in trouble. Please
come here." She motioned for him to stand before her.
Ron put down the game controller and arose stiffly, in
both senses of the word, from his seat. The shock of
the last few moments hadn't affected his hard-on.
Nancy swung the keyboard aside and scooted forward
until she was practically knee to knee with Ron. "I'm
sure you know just how special you are," she said as
she ran her hands up his thighs.
Ron quivered in anticipation. He'd been fucking grown
women for weeks now, and they were all nice looking.
But Nancy was like...like a model or a Playboy bunny
with her angelic face, and her great hair, and her tits
out to here, and she even smelled great. And now she
was unbuttoning his pants.
Nancy unbuttoned and unzipped the pair of jeans that
hung loosely from Ron's slender hips. She hooked her
fingers inside his under shorts and then pulled down
both pants and shorts in one long swoop. Ron's cock
swung outward and upward, barely missing Nancy's face
as it ran free.
"Oh My God," she exclaimed as the amazing hunk of male
sex waved in her face. She'd seen every second of Ron
and Karen's video so she knew very well what his cock
looked like. But to have it throbbing in her face made
her pussy sweat.
Ron grinned at the expression on Nancy's face. He'd
seen that look on other women of course. It was a
mixture of awe and anticipation. Nancy grasped his cock
with both hands and pulled it downwards.
Nancy tugged at his cock. It was unbelievably thick and
hot. As the cum-slit at the tip of the wide head came
into view, a clear drop of pre-cum formed and began to
drool. Her tongue licked out and caught the droplet.
She used her tongue to swirl the syrupy thick liquid
around his cock-head.
"Mmmm...sweet," she said with a smile, looking up at
Ron.
"Yeah," he said thickly. He pulsed his hips forward
urging the beautiful blonde to get on with it.
Nancy kissed and licked at the turgid cock-head. She
opened her lips wide and tried to engulf its width. Her
tongue frenched the slit as a steady stream of pre-cum
began to leak. She started to stroke him off, using
both hands. The skin of his rigid cock-shaft was
incredibly smooth and soft.
Nancy took his balls in hand. They were huge and his
sac was already tight against his teen crotch. His dick
was jerking in her mouth regularly and she felt his
fingers in her hair. She didn't have to be a cock-
sucking slut to recognize the signs of a guy about to
blow his wad.
Ron very nearly whined in frustration when Nancy pulled
away and pushed back his cock. His hands fell back to
his sides. She clamped her hand around the end of his
cock as if she was trying to stop a hose from
squirting. She shook her hair back into place and
smiled at him. "Not yet, big boy," she said. "How would
you like some nice, tight pussy?"
"Ohhh...yeah...please," said Ron, trying to sound as if
the idea hadn't been burning in his mind.
"Why don't you get a little less entangled," she said,
gesturing to the clothing that lay around his ankles.
She released his cock and a couple of ounces of pent up
boy juice arced through the air and landed with a soft
splat on the rug. Ron eagerly did a heel and toe job to
doff his shoes. He stepped out of his pants and shorts.
Wearing nothing but his shirt and socks he turned in
time to see Nancy pull off her tee-shirt. Her bra was
nothing like the ones his mother wore. It was the color
of Nancy's creamy skin and her tits swelled above the
inner sides of the cups. The cups were connected by the
thinnest of straps at the bottom.
Next she removed her shorts. She had to tug on the
legs, shifting her weight from one foot to the other in
order to skin them off. She laid the clothes neatly
across one of the seatbacks. Sweeping her hair back
over her shoulders, Nancy thrust her tits out as she
unclasped her bra and shrugged it off. She saw that Ron
was getting an eyeful so she twirled the flimsy garment
around her finger a couple of times with a laugh before
she let it fall onto her shorts and top. A few seconds
later her matching bikini panties followed.
Ron looked both adorable and sinfully sexy at the same
time. His slightly oversized blue and red striped knit
shirt would have hung to mid-thigh if it hadn't been
draped over his outsized cock. It was pointed very
nearly at the ceiling, and it twitched with Ron's every
heartbeat.
Nancy put her forefinger into her mouth to the middle
knuckle. When she withdrew the slickened digit, she
reached between her legs and rubbed it in circles over
her clit. "Do you know how to eat a pussy?" she asked
Ron. Somehow, she wasn't surprised when the boy
enthusiastically nodded yes.
Nancy sat herself down once more. She scooted her ass
across the butter smooth leather to the edge of the
seat, and then she lifted her legs and spread them wide
across the seat's arms as athletically as any gymnast.
Ron didn't need any further encouragement. He went to
his knees between Nancy's silky thighs. He didn't just
immediately swoop in on her pussy lips. He kissed and
licked his way along her creamy skin that lead to the
prize of her pink pussy lips. Laying his thumb on the
hood of her clit, he lightly swept it back and forth.
Nancy moaned softly. The boy was amazing. Had Karen
Pearson taught this boy so much? She must have been
fucking him for weeks. Or was Karen not his only
partner? Nancy shuddered as she imagined the sweet
looking Ron screwing his way through a harem, leaving
numerous women sated with sex. Damn, despite her busy
sex life, she couldn't remember the last time she'd
been this turned on. At last, when she was about to
demand that he stop teasing, Ron parted her pussy lips
with his thumbs and licked his tongue up its length.
"Oh yessss...that's it, baby," she cooed.
Ron licked across the stiff nub of her clit, and then
thrust his tongue into her weeping cunt and kissed her
swollen labia. And then he did it all over again, and
again, and again. This was better, but it was still
just a big tease. And Nancy was past the point of
teasing. For his age, Ron was a master of foreplay. He
could probably make the driest old crone in the world
wet with desire. But Nancy was more than ready to get
her cum. She was seconds from grabbing two hands full
of hair and smashing his face against her puss, when
Ron snaked a finger into her dripping sex canal and
immediately found her g-spot.
"Awww, fuck!" she cried out as the pad of his finger
locked onto the sensitive bump and began to shake. At
the same time, his mouth surrounded her clit and he
sucked it between his lips. His tongue began to flick
across her swollen mini-cock. With her knees drawn up
and her cute ass in the air waving erotically, Nancy
groaned as Ron finger fucked her and made her quiver as
if she were electrified.
"Eat me, shit, yeah, EAT ME!" Nancy demanded. She flung
her legs into the air, wrapping them hotly around Ron's
shoulders. She humped her cunt up and down, smacking
into his sucking mouth with wet sounds. Her pussy
shuddered and it milked at Ron's finger as she came.
Ron wasn't about to wait to let Nancy recover from her
shattering orgasm. He arose and steadied himself with
one hand on the back of the seat. His other hand
wrapped around the steely shaft of his cock and
painfully bent it down to her glistening pussy lips. He
yearned to shove his thick meat in there until the
sparse hair around his cock tickled her clit. Instead
he very delicately used the tip of his bulbous cock-
head to part her passion swollen lips.
"Ahhhhhhhhhh!" Ron gasped as he sank his cock into the
heavenly grasp of Nancy's cunt. "Damn, but you're
tight," he muttered.
Nancy ran her fingers along his arms. She laughed deep
in her throat. "Shit, it feels like you shoved a sexy
hot baseball bat into my puss. You're going to have to
stop fucking those old cunts like Karen Pearson."
Ron realized that he hadn't thought about that. Nancy
looked as if she was ten or fifteen years younger than
the other women he'd had so far, and her pussy was
wonderfully tight. He wondered just how much tighter a
girl his own age would be. Would he be able to even
fit? Of course that hardly mattered right now. He sunk
two more rigid inches into Nancy's hot pink, rich cunt
and began to surge back and forth. He thought he'd cum
instantly, but his dick had been so hard for so long it
was practically numb.
Ron began to fuck with a steady rhythm. It was great
for Nancy; she shuddered with ecstasy as the broad back
of his cock slid over her erect clitoris. She was
shaking her way through another orgasm when the door at
the rear of the room opened. A man wearing a dark suit
with an open collar slipped in quietly and carefully
closed the door once more. His eyes met Ron's for a
fraction of a second, and then he looked away as he
took a seat in one of the upright chairs at the
conference table. Ron didn't miss a stroke in his
delectable fucking, after all the man didn't seem to be
upset or anything.
Ron leaned forward until his lips brushed Nancy's
blonde hair and whispered, "Some guy just came in."
Nancy's eyes had had the thousand-yard stare of a woman
absorbed entirely in the thrilling waves of ecstasy
rushing through her cunt. But now those eyes came to
life in a hard, calculating look.
"Don't worry about it, sweetie," she whispered back.
Then loudly she said, "Come on, you big stud... you're
fucking cock is so fucking huge!"
Spurred on, Ron doubled the speed of his strokes.
Nancy's pussy sucked audibly on his prick shaft as he
upped the pace of his furious fucking. At last Ron
could feel the cum boiling in his balls. He was going
to blow soon and he was going to blow big.
The slap-slap of balls against her upturned ass mixed
with their groans and gasps of pleasure and exertion.
Nancy felt Ron's dick swelling inside her. She knew he
was going to cum soon, and she ached to feel his hot
cum fill her to overflowing, but she had other plans –
ones just as satisfying.
Ron felt his dick swell; he was just seconds away when
he heard Nancy say, "Stop!" so forcefully and keenly
that he halted in mid-stroke.
"Whaaa..?" he said in confusion as Nancy shoved him
away until is dick popped free and swung up to slap
against his tummy. She got to her feet and grasped the
end of his cock and began to pull.
"Over here," she said, leading him toward the man
seated at the rear of the room.
The man had a look of awe on his face as the
magnificent blonde with her spectacular figure, and the
impossibly well hung young man approached. They stopped
about three feet from where he sat.
Ron saw that the man had pulled open his fly. He was
using his thumb and forefinger to jerk at his dick. For
a second, Ron thought that the man was having trouble
getting it up. But then he realized that his dick was
hard, but it was just a tiny little thing. The man wet
his lips nervously and looked plaintively - first at
Nancy's mocking face and then at Ron's jutting cock.
Nancy used one hand to press down on Ron's steely cock
and her other hand went to the sensitive underside of
its head. She began to rub furiously and said, "Come
on, baby. Come on and show him what a real cock can
do."
Ron didn't know what was going on here, but he didn't
care. A beautiful woman was jerking him off and he
needed to lose his load in the worst way. And so he
did. It felt like a rod of hot metal went rocketing
through his cock. The pencil thick shot of viscous cum
shot across the space between Ron's bulging cock-head
and the seated stranger. It hit with a splat and
exploded across the chest of the man's immaculate suit
jacket.
Nancy aimed Ron's cock like some sort of cum-gun. She
covered Gene's jacket in cum as the man recoiled and
stretched his neck in an effort to keep his face away
from the splatter. But Nancy wasn't about to let him
get off that easy. She aimed higher and was thrilled to
see ropes of cum land across Gene's face. He spluttered
in protest, but never raised a hand. He was too busy
jerking his fingers along the short, narrow shaft of
his puny cock.
Ignoring Ron's grunt of pain, she bent his cock until
it was firing volleys of boy-cream into Gene's lap. She
laughed when she saw Gene's cock add its few drops of
cum to Ron's deluge.
An hour later, Nancy walked Ron back to the security
entrance of the Ka-Gen campus. His mother's car was
already waiting there. "I'm sure that I can rely on
your discretion, can't I?" she asked Ron while they
were still out of earshot of anyone.
Ron squinted at her. "If you mean that I won't tell
anyone about today, then sure, no problem. These sex
things just seem to happen to me," he said.
Nancy glanced at his crotch and said dryly, "I don't
doubt it." She slipped her hand into one of the pockets
of her shorts and withdrew a plastic card. She handed
it to Ron. "That's a gift card," she said. "You can get
a nice game system, HD display, sound system and even
several games for the amount on this card."
"Oh, wow, thanks," Ron said as he took the card and
flipped it over and over in his hand.
"Don't mention it. Ever," Nancy said.
Two months later, Nancy leaned back in her overstuffed
leather office chair. She'd taken over Gene's spacious
office as she now ran the company. On paper, he was
still in charge, but he simply signed off on anything
she wanted, and that had included the quantum leap in
her compensation. Gene was now concentrating on the
software division. That had always been his strength
and his first love - and he'd already moved several
projects ahead of schedule. At night, he happily went
home to his wife.
Nancy twirled her favorite pen through her fingers. It
was noon and she was both hungry and horny. She picked
up her phone and dialed an extension. "Daniel," she
said when the programmer she used as a sex toy
answered, "why don't you pick up a salad for me at the
executive dining room and bring it to my office?" She
barely heard his reply as she hung up the phone.
She sighed. A light lunch and then a quick ride on
Daniel's thick eight inches was just the way to start
the afternoon.
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. 4-million people around the world
contract HIV every year. You only have one body per
lifetime, so take good care of it!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Kristen's collection - Directory 59