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This work is copyrighted to the author © 2011.  Please
don't remove the author information or make any changes
to this story.  All rights reserved. Thank you for your 
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Twenty-One Today
by Entusko (entusko@gmail.com)

***

Chris is now legal to buy alcohol but his friends are 
not. Trying to celebrate with them puts him between the 
law and the manipulation of a convenience store owner. 
(MF, reluc, anal, voy)

***

Chris rarely liked to think about it, but having been 
left back a year in middle-school did wasn't all bad. He 
was the first to get a driver's permit and then a 
driver's license. And he was the first to be legally 
allowed to buy alcohol. Of course this meant that his 
friends could not take him out for drinks. Instead, on 
Chris' birthday, five of them drove to a neighboring 
town to buy booze and celebrate in the woods. That, at 
least, was the plan. 

They stood in the parking lot and pooled their money and 
then Chris went inside by himself and chose the biggest 
bottle of the cheapest liquor he could afford and took 
the bottle up to the counter. Standing there, a 
cigarette burning between her fingers, stood the owner. 
She looked to be in her forties with poorly bleached 
hair and deeply red lipstick. 

She had clearly been a very good looking girl earlier on 
but a hard life had extinguished the brightness in her 
eyes. Her figure was still good, if a touch heavier, and 
her face still pretty if run a bit ragged. Mostly it was 
the absence of a smile that colored her. As Chris 
approached he put his warmest smile on but she gave him 
nothing back but a long drag on her cigarette and a 
longer exhale.

"Those your friends out there?" she said, cocking her 
head at the gaggle of younger guys leaning against his 
car.

"That's right." 

She leaned over and extinguished her cigarette and 
pushed a button by the cash register. A moment later a 
man about her age, bigger and broader and roughly 
bearded, emerged from the office door beyond the soda 
dispenser. He strode over slowly, the scent of gasoline 
and hard work proceeding him.

"Yeah?" said the man, clearly frustrated that he had to 
leave what he was working on. Again she only indicated 
with a cock of her head, not even looking at the man. 
Her eyes narrowed on Chris.

"He's buying booze for those boys out there." She said.

"That ain't legal," said the man, annoyed.

"I'm twenty-one today," said Chris pushing his driver's 
license over to the woman.

"Don't matter. Ain't legal," said the man again. "Gotta 
call the police on this." The man pulled a handkerchief 
from his pocket and wiped at his hands. He was more 
annoyed now to have to deal with the situation.

"Look, forget it," said Chris reaching for his license. 
The woman's hand came down on it swiftly and grabbed it 
up.

"We're going to need to talk about this," she said. Now 
she looked at the man. They had a momentary silent 
exchange. "Come into the office and we can talk about 
it. No need for the law coming by today I don't think 
but I have to make sure I'm not getting in trouble." She 
grabbed up the bottle with his license and headed off to 
the office. The man walked past Chris and locked the 
door and turned the sign to proclaim the store closed 
for the time being and then headed back to the office 
himself, hooking an arm around Chris on his return.

The office was small. A desk with an assortment of 
papers and a large wooden cigar box, a few chairs, and 
some pictures taped to the walls. It smelled of stale 
smoke and sweat. 

She plunked the bottle down on the desk and sat down, 
indicating a seat on the other side of the desk. The man 
closed the door and pulled a chair from the wall and 
sat. Chris noticed that his legs extended past the 
closed door, positioning him like a sentry. Chris sat, 
nervous and confused.

"Here's the thing, sweety," she said coldly, reaching 
into the deep cigar box for a fresh cigarette and 
lighting it, "what you did there was a crime. By law I 
gotta call the cops and have them deal with it. Probably 
just a fine of a few hundred dollars, maybe a few days 
in jail or community service."

"Is that really necessary?" asked Chris with a hard 
swallow. Such a thing would be a humiliation to his 
parents and could be the final mark against holding a 
job in the bad economy.

"'Course it is!" barked the man. He pulled out his cell 
phone and started looking for the number.

"Put that away, Tyne," said the woman, and he did. 
Turning back to Chris she said "see, if I don't call and 
this gets out... well, I could lose the shop you see."

"And you will!" said the man, Tyne. "I don't think we 
can afford not to call, Dizz," he said. She only gave 
him a weak smile.

"Look, I don't know -- I'll just..." Chris looked from 
one to the other. "I won't tell anyone. Let's just 
forget it. I'll just... I have some money."

"Ha!" barked Tyne. "Fucking kid. Snot-nosed piece of 
shit. This is our business!" he shouted. He was clearly 
agitated and starting to seem like a potentially 
dangerous man.

"Tyne!" she shouted, putting him in his place. "Tyne, 
honey, why don't you step out to the front and let me 
deal with this boy here?"

Throwing Chris a last, dirty look he got to his feet. 
"If it were me, son," he said, spittle on his thick 
lower lip, "I'd teach you a nice lesson. And then call 
the cops." With that he opened the door. "I'll be right 
there," he said to them both, and closed it behind 
himself.

After a moment of silence the woman, Dizz, smiled at 
Chris. For the first time she seemed attractive to him. 
He was still used to the smooth, rosy flesh of the girls 
in his school.

"Let's do this," she said finally, "stand up for me." 

Chris hesitated, fairly confused, and then stood.

"You must be six feet tall, are you son?" 

"Not quite," he said, "five eleven." 

"Go ahead and turn around and face the wall there and 
just keep looking at that wall."

He had never felt objectified like this and wasn't sure 
how to feel other than small. He turned to face the 
wall. A few old, yellow newspaper cartoons had been 
pinned up. He was too distracted to even be able to 
process their simple captions.

"Go ahead and lower your pants and your underwear."

Here the alarm bells went off in Chris' head and he 
began to turn toward her. She slammed her hand on the 
table-top with a loud bang that scared him.

"I SAID DO NOT TURN AROUND." Chris froze.

Tyne poked his head in all of a sudden and asked if 
things were OK and if he should call the cops afterward. 
She let the question hang in the air. Finally Chris 
responded that he shouldn't and Tyne once again left 
them alone.

"Slowly, then," she said.

Chris fumbled at the buckle of his belt. The room was 
still and quiet and the jagged sound of the metal zipper 
of his jeans being pulled down seemed loud and very 
personal to his ears. He was thankful that he could not 
see her. He tucked his thumbs into his pants and his 
underwear and slowly pushed them down toward his knees.

"Slower," she said. He could hear her shifting in her 
seat. 

The clothing bunched around his shins and Chris stood 
back up. He was well made for a young man, with a light 
fuzz of chestnut hair on his legs and a little on his 
lower back. He could feel the cool air on his exposed 
skin, the cleft of his ass. His mouth was dry and he 
could feel his pulse in his temples. She shifted again 
and he could hear her undoing her own pants. She exhaled 
and he could feel her breath drift over his flesh.

"Open your legs a bit," she said. Her voice was quiet 
now, intimate.

Chris closed his eyes and opened his stance as much as 
his pants would allow. He was aware of his balls hanging 
down, that she would be able to see this from her 
vantage point and the thought brought a twinge to his 
cock. And he could hear her shift again.

"Put your hands on the wall, son, and bend out to me."

"I don't... bend?" Chris put his hands on the wall but 
wasn't sure what she expected beyond that.

"I want to see your ass open up, son."

She wants to see my asshole, he thought. A cold chill 
rocketed through him and he couldn't bring himself to 
move. He heard her clothing rustle again and then she 
got up and came around and behind him. He felt her hands 
grab at his hips and pull his but out. Her hands were 
warm, perhaps damp. His torso lowered so that he was 
nearly bent over. He was properly scared now. 

He felt her place a hand gently on his lower back. She 
ran it down, over the cheeks of his ass and then between 
them. Her touch was sensitive and caring. He could hear 
her breathing and what he assumed was her other hand 
rubbing between her legs. When her hand sunk between his 
legs and cupped his balls he felt a jet of power surge 
to his cock. He realized he was erect. He was 
humiliated, but erect.

She moved up closer to his naked behind. He could feel 
her warm belly pressed against the side of his ass and 
she began to grind her pelvis there. He could feel the 
bristly hair of her cunt. She continued to fondle him, 
occasionally reaching forward to squeeze his cock. He 
was breathing heavy, eyes tightly shut.

"Now," she said, almost in a whisper, "we have a choice 
to make." Here, her finger tips traced back to his 
asshole and ran around it in a tight, gentle circle. 
"Either I'm going to put my fingers here..." she pushed 
against him, trying to enter, but he was too tight, "or 
Tyne can come back and put his cock there instead."

Chris let out a brief whimper.

"I thought so," she said. "Let's try this," she said. 
She brought a finger to his mouth and had him suck at 
it. It was a bit salty and already wet. He knew it had 
been in her cunt but the thought did little except 
excite him.

She withdrew the wet finger and placed it at his 
asshole. This time she pushed with determination until 
it worked it's way up, into his ass. She purred with 
satisfaction at the accomplishment.

Now she got down on the floor and positioned herself 
between his legs. His stomach lay on the top of her head 
and he could feel her deep breathing against his erect 
cock. 

"You have a very nice cock, son." She said. Never 
pulling her finger out of his ass, she placed her other 
hand around the base of his cock and squeezed. "My step-
son has a nice cock like this, too." Here she placed her 
lips at its head. "He once fucked me in the store with 
it. Yanked up my dress, pulled down my panties and 
fucked me so fucking hard." 

She began to stroke him now, slowly back and forth while 
her one finger pushed occasionally deeper. Chris had 
never felt anything so intense.

"He fucked me so hard that when he pulled out I fell on 
the floor and saw stars." 

She wrapped her lips around the head of his cock for a 
bit.

"God I love a young cock. I bet your cum is good, too. 
Are you going to cum for me?"

He moaned. It was all he wanted.

"You going to be good and come? You have some nice, warm 
cum in there for me?"

She began to suck him in earnest. When her hand became 
aware that his balls were growing tight, that he was 
coming close to orgasm, she would slap them. The sting 
of pain brought him back from the edge and he would 
shout out.

"You have to want it, son."

"I want it," he said breathlessly. "I want to come. God, 
I'm close..."

While her finger dug inside him, her other hand left his 
cock. The wet noises that filled the room came from her 
mouth sucking at him and, he assumed, her fingers 
engaged between her legs. It was a beautiful feeling. 
His skin was on fire with pleasure and his hips started 
to buck, trying to fuck into her throat. He could feel 
the orgasm approaching like a train rushing from the 
distance. He began to shake, his mouth hung open, his 
jaw tightened.

And then it was there.

A bolt of electricity tore through him. Cum surged 
through his cock and explosions flooded his mind. He 
shouted out loud but stopped hearing anything at all. He 
literally collapsed to the floor.

As he lay there he heard her stand up and return to her 
chair. He heard her redress. He heard her light another 
cigarette. Still, he did not move. He heard her sit 
again.

"Get dressed and get out of here." She flicked the 
license down to him and Chris began to grapple with 
drawing his pants on. 

She went to the door and cracked it open.

"Get out of here you little slut," she said almost 
passionless. "And don't ever come here again or I'll 
call the cops. You got that?"

END

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life in
anyway shape or form. Anyone tempted to act out any of
the scenarios in this story; should seriously consider
seeking professional help.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Kristen's collection - Directory 71