by Denise Avery
“Twenty two.” Her eyes teared up—she felt like he was going to scalp her.
“Twenty two?” he moaned, and she swore she could feel him get harder at the very thought of it. “Have you even been with a real man?”
“Never,” she whispered. “You’re the first man I’ve ever—”
“You must be so tight,” he said, and before she could reply, he let his hand descend to her crotch. The moment his fingers pushed aside the thin fabric of her panties, she felt like she was being touched for the first time. He grinned down at her, “So you do want me, then? You’re so wet, I could slide my fist right—”
“What?!”
“Don’t worry, kid,” he said, “I don’t want to break you just yet.”
He slipped two thick, firm fingers into her pussy and gasped at how untouched, how virginal she felt. She was drowning in the sensation of him entering her when his thumb found its way to her clit. She drew in a sharp breath, arching her back with the sweeping wave of pleasure that gushed over her.
“Take off that goddamned dress,” he said, stroking her pussy with the skill and precision of an open heart surgeon. “Take it off this goddamned second.”
She obeyed, ripping the dress off over her head. Her chest rose and fell with her heaving breasts, and as he stroked her toward orgasm with one hand, he reached up and freed them from her bra with one deft flip of the wrist. He leaned over her, and she expected him to wrap his lips around her pert nipple. Instead, she felt teeth—and she was instantly transported beyond the threshold of orgasm. She came, fast and wet. He watched her writhe beneath him, satisfied and wildly aroused by her pleasure. The sheer force of her orgasm had shocked her. “What the hell was that?” she said, astounded.
Parker looked down at her, concern clouding his features for a moment. “Don’t tell me that no one has ever given you a proper orgasm? Oh, my dear. There is so much that I’m going to show you.”
And with that, he grabbed her dress and shoved it in her gaping mouth. Gagged, she stared up at him, completely in his control. She knew that he could do anything with her that he wanted. And she was fine with that. Entirely. With every exposed inch of herself. She reached for Parker, began to franticly unleash his cock from his trousers. He ripped through the buttons of his shirt, revealing his sturdy, firm chest. The sight of his chest chair sent her into a tizzy, and she tugged at the waist of his pants until they fell away, revealing the biggest, stiffest dick that Claire had ever imagined could exist.
Parker smiled as she took in his massive, pulsing organ. Her hands found their way around his cock, eagerly working up and down the length of it. His eyes closed and he groped sightlessly for her breasts. They egged each other on, inching closer to the moment they’d each been dreaming of since they first locked eyes. I want you inside of me, Claire pleaded with her eyes, I need you inside of me.
As if he could hear her, Parker slapped Claire’s hands from his dick and, pinning her arms on the table over her head, drove into her. She moaned through her gag—he was enormous. Though she was wetter than rain-slicked asphalt, she wondered for a moment if she’d be able to take all of him. He rocked his hips against her eager pussy, sliding into her inch by inch. She could tell that he loved her tightness, her youth, her lack of experience, as much as she loved his command.
She felt his rock hard dick at the very core of her, and thought that he might actually rip her in two. He took hold of her hair and, staring into her eyes, said, “Cum with me.”
He didn’t need to tell her twice. He began to thrust fast and deep into the furthest reaches of her body, and she rolled back to the edge of a staggering orgasm. She dug her fingers into his back and screamed as he threw his head back in unadulterated bliss. They tumbled through the hair together, clawing to take as much of the other as they could, as he came into her. His seed flowed into her, coating her, and she wished that she could stay like this, enveloping him, accepting him, forever.
He rested his weight on his forearm and gently lifted the homemade gag from Claire’s mouth. A look that may have been sheepish danced across his sweaty brow. Claire’s mind and body were reeling. She new, right then, that nothing in her world would ever be the same.
“Well,” she said breathlessly, “Can I still have that job?”
He laughed, and she could feel the vibration of it through their still very intimate connection. “Naturally. I have to keep you close, don’t I? So that whenever the urge comes upon me... there you’ll be.”
“Sounds OK to me,” Claire said, smiling up at him, “But what should I... uh... say to Cheryl about those papers?”
“What do I care?” Parker laughed, playfully tugging at a lock of her hair, “You’re a smart woman. Figure it out. As long as your solution means that I get to fuck you dirty as often as possible, I’m for it.”
Claire shook her head, amazed. She had no idea what was going to happen next, but she was fairly certain that it was going to involve the man of her dreams teaching her some very nasty lessons. She couldn’t wait to start her new education.
* * * * *
Chapter 3
* * * * *
“Stop, stop!” Savannah exclaimed, “You’re going off the script again!”
“I’m sorry, Savannah,” Claire said, exasperated, “But I can’t pull this shit off the way you do! I would sound ridiculous saying that sort of thing.”
“Oh, please,” Claire said, rolling her eyes, “What’s so ridiculous about telling a guy that you want his hulk-sized member to pulverize your snatch, huh?”
“Jesus Christ...” Claire moaned, “I came to the wrong person for sex advice.”
“Wrong,” Savannah said, “You couldn’t ask for a better coach than me.”
The two best friends were in Claire’s shoebox apartment in Brooklyn. Claire’s boyfriend Tommy was out with his pathetic excuse for an improv team/free-verse-beat-boxing association/amateur tattoo artists club, so the girls had the place to themselves. Claire had called an emergency meeting with her confidante Savannah because she needed some advice, seeing as the day before had taken a very sexy turn for her.
Through a confusing arrangement of coincidence, fate, and overriding lust, Claire had found herself smack dab in the middle of an illicit affair with her boss’s husband, Parker. After a chance meeting on the subway and subsequent week of intensely erotic daydreams, the two had reunited when Parker sneakily had Claire sent to his spare townhouse on the upper west side, and by his wife’s orders!
Claire blushed whenever she remembered returning back to the children’s store she worked at after spending the afternoon being forcefully penetrated by her boss’s virile, irresistible husband. With her pussy still throbbing with the effort of accommodating such an impressive cock, Claire had shuffled into the store and come face-to-face with her lover’s wife, Cheryl. Cheryl, whose middle-age was hidden under copious amounts of cosmetics and Botox, was a rail thin and testy woman who was quick to disparage and harass her employees for no apparent reason other than to elevate her own sense of worth a hair’s width.
“What took you so long?” Cheryl had demanded, “Where are those papers Parker wanted you to pick up?”
Claire stared dumbly at her boss for a moment before she remembered Parker’s lazy excuse for getting her up to his fuck pad. She shrugged hopelessly, which only sent Cheryl’s eyes rolling further back into her head. Claire hoped that they would get stuck there, leaving her free to spread her legs for Parker right in the middle of the awful, godforsaken children’s store if she wanted to. Who knows? Those toy pellet guns might make for some interesting foreplay.
“I don’t know who’s more of an airhead, you or him,” Cheryl growled, crossing her toothpick arms across her chest.
“Yeah, who knows,” Claire said, “Do you mind if I leave now? It’s my day off, and I have dinner plans with—”
“Good God,” Cheryl gasped, “Do you do anything but eat, Claire? I told you that I’d let you have my extra appetite s
uppressant drops if you wanted to do something about that belly. How do you expect to attract a guy with that perpetual winter coat you wear?”
“Some guys like curves,” Claire said, fighting to urge to add, “Just ask your husband.”
Cheryl laughed, coldly, “Oh, honey. That’s just what the magazines say when they’re trying to be less discriminative about fatties. Men don’t want a plump, juicy woman to jiggle around in bed. They want finely tuned and toned sex machines.”
“Oh... I get what you’re saying,” Claire said sarcastically, “Men want cold, detached, emotionless fembots with fake tits, asses, teeth, and hair.”
“Basically.”
“I’ll take your advice under consideration,” Claire said, shaking her head in amazement as she stalked out of the store. How could Cheryl be so blind to her husband’s desires? They clearly were not on the same page about what constituted the perfect woman. Parker had been plenty happy to sink his fingers into Claire’s fleshy hips, her lusciously full ass. Actually, he’d been so enthralled by her body that things had gotten more aggressive than Claire had anticipated.
Since Claire had lost her virginity at the perfectly passable age of seventeen, she’d only had sex with guys who were very much more like boys than men. They humped like overeager puppies, and drooled about as much. There was no finesse, no consideration to their lovemaking. Just pure hormones and sloppy execution. Claire had never even had an orgasm by one of them! Sure, she’d become an expert at pleasuring herself, but Parker had been the first man she’d been with, and boy did he have his way with her.
“I’m just so new to all this,” Claire said to Savannah, snapping back to the present moment of her bedroom, “I mean... things got kind of rough.”
“Like, how rough? Whips? Chains?”
“No... just a, uh... A gag? And some... choking?”
“Holy shit, Claire! You’re a submissive!”
“What? No, it’s not freakish like that!”
“You say freakish like it’s a bad thing,” Savannah said, excited, “Don’t you see? There this whole other side to your sexuality that you get to explore now. It's gone unnoticed because you insist on dating acne-ridden vermin with pencil dicks and mommy issues.”
“Ow,” Claire winced, “Too far!”
“Sorry,” Savannah said, “I’m just so glad that this happened to you! Anytime you need me to cover at the store so you and Parker can get sexy on the upper west side, let me know and I’ll be there before you can say ‘don’t stop big daddy’! God, it’s incredible to see that bitch boss of ours finally get hers.”
“You don’t think I should feel guilty?” Claire said, “After all, if my husband was cheating on me with some random twenty-something, I’d feel devastated.”
“OK, two things,” Savannah said sternly, “First, your question is invalid because Cheryl clearly does not possess feelings in the classical sense, and Secondly, you are not some random girl. This is a man who could have anyone in the world, any woman from any corner of the earth, and he chose you. Call me sentimental, but I think you should take that as a sign that you’re pretty fucking spectacular.”
“Savannah...” Claire said, blushing, “I hope you’re right... about the way he feels I mean. It’s not like I’m a sex kitten like you. You’re all cute and tiny and flexible. Me, I’m all bumps and curves.”
“Oh, shut up. Do you know what I’d do to have tits like yours?” Savannah cried, “I’d do our entire university’s lacrosse team. Again! Do you really have no idea how sexy you are?”
“I don’t know...” Claire said, “I don’t really think about it.”
“You know what,” Savannah said, looking around the apartment as if to make sure that they were really alone, “Can I tell you a secret?”
“Of course,” Claire said, “After listening to the details of my romp in the kitchen with Mr. Billionaire playboy, I think you’ve earned it.”
“Well...” Savannah said, biting her bottom lip, “You know how I’m always really hard on Tommy?”
“Sure I do,” Claire laughed, “I feel like you must keep a thesaurus around just to come up with fresh insults every time you see him.”
“It’s not my fault that he’s an insufferably loquacious urethra-sucker,” Savannah said, winking, “But honestly, the reason that I’m so mean to Tommy is that I don’t really think he deserves you.”
“Oh, Savannah...”
“I mean it. He’s not smart enough to keep up with you intellectually, nowhere near as attractive as you, and from what you tell me a complete slouch in the bedroom department.”
“That last piece is certainly true.”
“So why do you waste your time with him when you know you could do so much better?” Savannah cried, “God, I hardly ever fool around with girls, but I’d totally get nasty with you if you let me.”
“What?!” Claire gasped, starting at her diminutive friend, “Savannah, what are you talking about?”
“I’m just saying,” Savannah smiled, lowering her eyes seductively, “I’ve always had a sort of secret girl crush on you. If I didn’t think it would ruin our friendship, I’d make a move on you this instant.”
The room went silent. Claire sat, staring at her friend, knowing that she meant what she said. Claire’s mind tried and tried to wrap itself around this new possibility. Her fierce fucking by Parker had opened up a whole new world of sex up to her. She felt as though she’d been missing out on so much experimentation, and letting herself be touched by a girl was definitely unknown territory. What if she was as into girls in practice as she had been to the role of the submissive? Through a fog of confusion and excitement, Claire met Savannah’s gaze and smiled.
“Go ahead,” Claire said, her voice breathy.
“What?” Savannah said, her eyes growing wide with wonder.
“Go ahead and touch me,” Claire said again, her pulse quickening, “I want to feel what it’s like.”
“Claire... are you sure? This isn’t like you at all.”
“Don’t you want to do it?” Claire said, pouting sexily.
“God, yes,” Savannah breathed, “You promise you won’t get freaked out?”
“I promise,” Claire said. The girls were sitting on opposite ends of the bed she shared with Tommy. She tucked her ankles beneath her and leaned forward, letting her ample bosom spill out of her tiny tank top. Savannah’s eyes glowed craftily.
“You’ve never been with a girl, have you?” Savannah said quietly.
“Never,” Claire said, “I wouldn’t know where to begin.”
“You mean you need me to teach you?” Savannah offered, pulling herself to standing on her knees, looking down at her friend. Claire was much taller and more filled out than petite Savannah, but it was becoming clear who was really in charge. Claire didn’t mind—she liked knowing that she was at the disposal of someone she trusted as implicitly as Savannah.
“Show me how?” Claire asked, her voice lilting irresistibly on the final word. Savannah grinned and shook her head, amazed.
“You don’t have to ask me twice,” she said, running her hand through Claire’s ash blonde hair, “Now why don’t you crawl over here like a good girl.
Claire felt a stirring in the very pit of her, a smooth undulation that spread through her core and let her know that something wonderful was about to happen. She pulled herself onto her hands and knees and slinked across the bed. The little twin-sized mattress seemed endless as she made her way toward Savannah in anticipation. Savannah’s long mane of jet black hair shimmered in the lamplight as she giggled at Claire’s approach.
“There’s a good girl,” Savannah said, as Claire rested her cheek against the warm firmness of Savannah’s toned thigh. Claire knelt before Savannah, and tentatively burrowed her face into the warmth between her legs. The undeniable scent of wet pussy sent Claire’s head spinning. She looked up at Savannah, amazed.
“You’re beautiful,” Claire whispered, wrapping her hands around
Savannah’s tiny buttocks. Savannah leaned down and whispered in Claire’s ear.
“Do you want to lick my pussy?” she asked lightly, “Do you want to bury your tongue in my cunt?”
Claire’s stomach flipped over as she nodded vigorously.
“Ask my permission,” Savannah demanded.
“Can I—”
“May I.”
“May I... lick your pussy?”
Savannah nodded and lay back on the tiny bed, folding her arms behind her head. Claire gently tugged at the elastic waistband of Savannah’s delicate panties, revealing her neatly-trimmed pussy. Savannah spread her legs wide for Claire, revealing the most intimate folds of herself, the most precious spaces. Claire, as if in prayer, lowered her mouth to Savannah’s crotch. Drinking in the unexpectedly sweet nectar, Claire ran her tongue along the tantalizing slit of her best friend’s pussy until her tongue brushed against the nub of Savannah’s clit.
“That’s right...” Savannah coached, arching her back in pleasure, “Right there... I want you to taste it when I cum...”
Claire didn’t need to be told twice. All she wanted in the world was to do whatever Savannah, her mistress, asked of her. She flicked and sucked at Savannah’s clit, feeling her friend rolling closer and closer to inevitable orgasm. Claire grabbed onto Savannah’s knees and pushed them back, exposing her pussy ever more.
“I’m there!” Savannah moaned, bucking against Claire’s hungry mouth, “I’m... there!”
Savannah’s saccharine juices spilled into Claire’s mouth, filling her with the taste of sweet, young pussy. She was intoxicated with freedom, with choice, with the desire to be instructed and enlightened and used and taught. She raised her head to look Savannah in the eye. Savannah stared back at her, elated.
“Well, shit,” she breathed, her tiny chest heaving, “How did you do that?”
“I just wanted to please you,” Claire said softly, laying down beside her friend.
