Wednesday, June 16, 2010

School Ties

It had been a long, hard four years, but the day had finally come - graduation! I felt an overwhelming sense of pride as I marched into the auditorium with my fellow graduates, 'Pomp and Circumstance' playing over the speakers, and took my seat next to my fellow psychology majors, awaiting my turn to walk across the stage. Even the most boring of speakers couldn't dull my excitement, as I sat through what seemed like hours of talking, all the speeches and recognitions and honors that stood between me and my diploma. My mind began to wander as I sat, reflecting on the conversation I'd had just before the ceremony began, with my favorite professor.

"Sarah, glad to see you here today!"

I took his outstretched hand and shook it vigorously. "I couldn't have done it without you, Dr. Applegate, you know that!"

"Yes, I still remember when you visited my office as a shy freshman, worried about whether your application to the psychology department would be approved."

"And you took the time to read my essay, and told me to go ahead and submit everything, and just trust you, that I'd be fine."

"And then there were your visits to my office when you were in my classes, always concerned about whether your papers were good enough."

"Once again, you told me just to trust myself, trust the quality of my work. I really appreciate all of your support, Dr. Applegate!"

"Please, now that you're graduating, call me Jim!"

"Oh, OK, Jim. Well, if we're being less formal, let me tell you how nice your tie is - I see you've gone with school colors today, red and white!"

"Absolutely, this is my favorite graduation tie. And you," he said with a wink, "I'm sure you're wearing something very classy under that ubiquitous black gown?"

"Ah, I can't share that, it's one of the mysteries of the day. But I can tell you I also decided on school colors. The outfit matches the shoes, I assure you," I said, pointing to my feet, which were strapped into some thoroughly impractical open-toed red sandals with four-inch heels.

"Well, perhaps I'll see you after the ceremony? Are you coming to the department's party?"

"Wouldn't miss it - I'll see you there!"

As I thought back on this conversation from my seat in the auditorium, my eyes searched the rows of faculty seated on the stage until I found him and caught his eye. As a joke, I unzipped my graduation gown just enough to show him a peek of the outfit I was wearing underneath. His eyes widened, and I felt them linger on my chest, taking in the rather obvious cleavage I was showing off with my low-cut red dress. My mind quickly raced as I realized that my innocently-intended joke had gotten a little out of hand, and raced even faster as I realized I was anything but offended that my professor was staring at my chest.

The student in the seat next to me had to nudge me out of my fog to let me know that my name had been read and it was my turn to walk to the stage. I accepted my diploma, shook a few hands, before finally reaching the far end of the stage, where I once again was face-to-face with Dr. Applegate, um, Jim." See, in addition to being my favorite professor, he also happened to be the chairman of the department, so it was his job to offer me the final handshake and congratulate me on earning my degree.

"Congratulations, Sarah," he said as he refused my outstretched hand and hugged me instead, "and may I say," he whispered into my ear in the midst of our embrace, "very nice choice with the red dress."

I blushed hotly, and as I made my way back to my seat, could hardly believe what had just transpired. Had it really happened? Had Dr... I mean, Jim, just finished making clear that he thought I looked hot? Don't get me wrong - I knew I was hot, and I'd chosen an outfit on this important day which left nothing to the imagination - it was just that he had always been the model of appropriate behavior between professor and student. Even though I had to admit I'd had a crush on him all these years, I'd never dreamed of acting on it.

Once back in my seat, I could hardly wait for the ceremony to end so that I could get to the after-party and continue my conversation with Jim. Was I reading too much into this? Or had everything changed now that I would no longer be his student? All of these thoughts and many more occupied my attention as I hugged my family and friends who had come, took off my cap and gown and left them with my parents, and walked across campus to the building where the department's party was being held.

I didn't see Jim when I first walked in, but after a few moments, his voice behind me caused me to turn.

"So, Sarah, now I get to see the school-color outfit you mentioned!"

I twirled before him, showing off the red cocktail-style dress I'd chosen for the big day, my long blonde hair flying as I turned, before coming to rest just past my shoulders as I faced him once again.

"But I'm only seeing red, not white?"

"Ah, well, um..."

"Oh, I see. The white is represented somewhere that can't be shared in a room full of people?"

"Exactly."

"Well, Sarah, it's just like I used to tell you about your writing in my classes. Don't be afraid to make your statement clearly, right up front. Trust me, that advice will always serve you well."

"Oh, I do trust you, Jim. And even though the rest of the party doesn't need to see it, I'd be happy to show you the rest of my school colors."

It was a gutsy move, and my heart was pounding in my chest, but I decided it was time to call his bluff. Either he actually wanted me, in which case the sooner the better, or he'd back off, and I'd return to celebrating with my fellow graduates. Fortunately for me, it was the former.

"Really, is that so?"

"Absolutely. After all, I've been searching for a way to thank you properly. If it weren't for you, I probably wouldn't have had the confidence to apply to the department in the first place, and now here I am, graduated!"

"Well, if you think this is the best way, who am I to argue? My house isn't far from campus, shall we?"

We said our goodbyes to colleagues and friends, taking different paths as we gradually mingled our way to the door and snuck out. We walked to Jim's car in the faculty parking lot behind the building, and I studied him during the brief ride to his house. He was a strikingly handsome man of just over six feet, with chiseled features, an athletic build, and a bit of gray hair just beginning to show his age, which I guessed to be mid-40s. As we pulled up to his house, I had to pinch myself to confirm that this encounter really was happening.

We went into the house, and he promptly kicked off his shoes and made himself comfortable on the sofa, motioning for me to sit down next to him.

"So, Sarah, where were we?"

"I think I was sharing that the rest of my school colors are just a bit hidden."

"Oh, that's right," he said, pretending to have forgotten, a mischievous smile on his face. "Perhaps you'd like to show me?"

"It would be my pleasure," I said, climbing to my feet and standing before him. I turned so that my back was to him, and looked over my shoulder at him as I found the zipper on the back of my dress and pulled, slowly, slowly, until I was free enough to begin slithering out of the fabric. Before doing so, though, I turned to face him once again, and began a sultry dance, my hips moving back and forth as I watched the bulge grow in his slacks.

I reached up to my shoulders to free my arms from the straps of the dress, and then gradually, inch by inch, pulled the dress down over my hips until it finally fell to the floor, where I stepped out of it and kicked it aside. I was now standing in front of him in my matching bra and panties - white cotton with red polka dots - and my red heels.

"Like what you see?"

"Oh, yeah, Sarah."

I strutted around in front of him a bit more, showing off my perfect breasts and cute ass, before he finally reached up and grabbed me by the hips, pulling me down on top of him, and I began grinding on him as he kissed me passionately. His hard cock, still contained in his slacks, nonetheless pressed firmly against me, and I could already imagine how it would feel buried deep inside of me. I climbed back up off his lap, knelt between his knees on the floor in front of him, and set to work to free him from his slacks and boxers.

I smiled as his stunning seven-inch cock sprang free, and eagerly took it into my hands and began licking the tip, as he relaxed with a sigh against the sofa. I gradually took more and more of his length into my mouth with each stroke, fondling his balls with both hands as he gathered my hair into his hands and began encouraging my motions.

I sucked, stroked, and fondled him for several minutes more, varying my touch in response to his grip on my hair, and was overwhelmed by his stamina - most of the guys I'd been with would have cum already, and by now would have been wondering how long they had to cuddle before they could turn on the TV.

I picked up my pace, hoping to bring him to climax, but soon felt Jim stop me, pulling me away.

"Not so fast, Sarah. I'm thinking there's still one more lesson I can teach you."

"Hmm?" I climbed up on the sofa once again, my big blue eyes looking deep into his, eager to learn what he might have in mind.

"I can tell you're experienced, but I'm guessing you've yet to have a man bring you true pleasure."

"Oh, I don't know..."

"Trust me, if you had, you wouldn't be doubting it."

"Um, OK?"

"You do trust me, right Sarah?"

"Of course, after everything you've done for me? Of course!"

"Alright then."

Already naked from the waist down, he now reached up and loosened his tie, pulling it off and tossing it to me. He quickly unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it aside as well.

"I don't suppose you know what I have in mind for that tie?"

"Um, let's see..." I playfully tied it around my own neck, and he smiled as he took in the view, but then, looking deep into my eyes, "not quite. Here, follow me into the bedroom."

We got up and walked down the hallway to his bedroom, complete with a king-sized bed with a beautiful wood frame. The folding closet doors which faced the bed were mirrored, giving the impression that the room was twice as big, with two beds filling it.

"Go ahead and climb up there, Sarah. And give me back my tie."

I did as I was told, and a moment later began to realize what he had in mind. He wanted to use his tie to, well, tie me up! I was filled with a mixture of emotions - excitement, yes, but also nervousness and uncertainty.

"I see you've put two and two together, Sarah. Are you ready?"

"Um, I'm not sure..."

"I thought you said you trusted me."

"Oh, I do, it's just that... well, I've never let anyone tie me up before. I'm not even sure I understand why people like to do it."

"Don't lie to me, Sarah. I can tell by the flush of your cheeks that it excites you. Remember that time I talked to you about the fact that sometimes in life, you need to go with your passion, even if it scares you?"

"Yes, of course."

"Well, this is one of those moments. Trust me. I'll bring you pleasure like you've never experienced."

I smiled, thought for a moment, and held out my hands to him, my wrists together, silently giving him my permission. He quickly bound my wrists together, then pushed my arms above my head, taking a moment to remove my bra and suck gently on each of my nipples before encouraging me to lie back on the bed, a pillow under my head, before connecting the other end of the tie to one of his bedposts.

"Now, let's get rid of these panties."

He tugged at my panties until they were free of my hips, and I was able to wriggle free of them, kicking them off the bed.

"Spread your legs."

I did as I was told, and he knelt between my legs, his fingers and tongue exploring my inner thighs, gradually working their way to my wet, hot pussy. I cried out in pleasure at the first touch of his tongue to my pussy lips, thinking from my previous experiences that this would be the extent of my pleasure. After all, most of the guys I'd been with figured they deserved a medal just for trying to make something happen 'down there'.

But soon, I realized there was much more pleasure to come. Remembering the mirrors on his closet doors, I turned my head on the pillow to watch as he worked, his head buried between my legs. As I saw myself, my arms bound, my nipples erect, my hips writhing, my own image pushed me over the edge, an experience I'd never had before. I knew I was hot in the eyes of the guys who desired me, but now I was able to see my own pleasure, my own naughtiness, as it looked to them.

Jim continued to work as I rode out my first orgasm, licking and sucking my clit as he pressed his fingers into my pussy. It wasn't long before I was approaching a second climax - another new experience for me - and this time I had the awareness to talk him through what I was feeling, encouraging him with my voice since I couldn't direct him with my hands.

"Yes, right there, that's it! Suck on my clit, oh, god yes, faster, faster, fuck my pussy with your fingers!"

I bucked wildly beneath him as my second orgasm came. It took some time before I was once again aware of my surroundings, and when I finally looked up at him, Jim was kneeling between my legs, his cock standing at attention. I smiled invitingly, and he climbed towards me. I expected him to enter me right then, but first, he reached up above my head and untied the tie from the bed, and then from my wrists. As I pulled my arms down and felt the blood rush through them, he quickly flipped me over, slipped a pillow under my belly, and plunged into me from behind. I cried out at the incredible depth of this penetration, as he remained buried inside of me, unmoving, for several moments.

Once I had adjusted to the fullness, he gradually started moving in and out, simultaneously pulling us both up onto our knees until we were in a traditional doggie-style position. He now began fucking me with abandon, panting with each stroke as I moaned beneath him. After a few minutes of this, I reached down and grabbed his balls, fondling them as he pounded into me, my pussy once again beginning to pulse with the beginnings of another orgasm.

Before either of us came, he shifted our position once again. He laid down on his back, his head on the pillow, and I straddled his legs, facing away from him, and gradually lowered myself onto him. My hands returned to his balls, tickling and fondling as I rode him fast and furious.

"Oh, god yes, I'm going to cum, I'm going to cum again!!!"

I continued bouncing up and down on him as I rode out the waves of my third orgasm, screaming in delight at this new level of pleasure. Soon, I felt him begin to approach his climax as well, and I climbed up off of him, turned to face him, and jacked him off until he covered my chest and face with a huge load of cum. As the hot, sticky goo dripped from my cheeks, my tits, even my hair, I smiled, my eyes meeting his once again.

"You were right, trusting you is always a good policy."

Saturday, June 12, 2010

Three Strikes, I'm Out?

My heart skipped a beat when the boss stopped by my cubicle, and I'm sure I blushed when his eye caught mine. I was on the phone with a client, and suddenly very conscious of my end of the conversation - especially when the boss smiled and gave me a thumbs up as he listened - but also eager to get off the phone so I could find out why he had stopped by to see me. My position was very much an entry-level one, so even though I knew him to be a hands-on leader, it was unusual that he'd stop by a cubicle like mine. For a moment, I indulged the thought that he would ask me out, but quickly focused on work again, conscious that he was listening carefully to my phone conversation.

"Nice work, Bailey," he said, reaching out to shake my hand, "glad to hear such a professional approach with our clients over the phone!"

"Wow, thanks, Mr..."

"No need to be so formal, Bailey," he interrupted me, "please, call me Jason."

"Oh, really? Well, thanks, Jason! So, what can I do for you?"

"Well, I'm a little disappointed in you. You know we've been trying to put together a team for the softball league, and yet you don't share with me that you were a star on your college team?"

"Well, that was a few years ago. And I don't know if I'd use the word 'star'..."

"Are you kidding? We're not exactly a pro league, we need every decent player we can get! And once Laura in accounting spilled your secret, I looked up your college stats. If you hit only half as well as you did your senior year, you'd be a great addition to our lineup! Oh, and I really need a catcher I can count on."

"So you're the pitcher?" I really hadn't thought much about playing since graduating two years back and deciding to focus on my career. But the thought of being able to play with Jason - I still couldn't believe he wanted me to call him Jason - was definitely a selling point. I'd had a huge crush on this guy since the first time we'd met.

"That's me - pitcher, wrangler of new members of the team, pretty much a utility man when it comes to keeping this team running. So, are you in?"

"Sure, count me in. When do we practice?"

"Well, unfortunately I'll need you to jump right into a game - our first game is Friday. You up for it? Our next practice isn't until next Tuesday."

"Sure, what the heck. Why not!"

"Alright, I'll make sure we have a uniform for you tomorrow, and I'll e-mail you the full schedule and directions to the field where we play. Thanks so much, Bailey, knew I could count on you to be a team player - literally!"

My phone rang again, and Jason said, "Alright, back to work - see you tomorrow!"

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

I had to admit, it was exciting to be back on the field again, especially without the pressure of playing for a winning college team. A few of the colleagues I already knew greeted me when I arrived at the field that Friday evening, and I was quickly introduced to those I hadn't met. It was an odd feeling at first, putting on the catcher's gear, but I soon felt at home as I crouched behind the plate, awaiting the first delivery from Jason. I had a great top of the first, throwing out a runner who attempted to steal second, and was having a great time catching pitches again. Slow-pitch was a big adjustment from the fast-pitch I'd played in college, but I quickly remembered the pleasure of being part of a team, the joy of competition.

Jason had put me in the lineup as the cleanup hitter, a vote of confidence which I wore proudly as I marched up to the plate for my first at-bat, with two of my teammates on base. Swing, strike one. Wow, I was way ahead of that pitch. I thought I'd made the adjustment by playing catcher, but apparently I was still off. Oh well, shake it off. Swing, strike two. OK, Bailey, calm down. I called time, stepped out of the batter's box, leaned the bat against my legs, and reached up to adjust my cap, tightening the hairband holding up my long blonde ponytail. Alright, this is it. Swing, strike three. I sulked back to the bench and hung my head. I hadn't struck out swinging since, like, ever!

One at-bat was just one at-bat, I told myself. Harder to tell myself that when the game was over, and I'd gone 0-4. My teammates were fine with it - after all, it was my first game, and it was just for fun anyway! Oh, and we'd managed to win, in spite of my complete inability to hit anyone in. But my inner athlete had returned, the competitive spirit that had made me a successful college player, and I was humiliated by being unable to catch up to - or I should say, slow down for, the balloon pitches from the opposing pitcher.

Jason found me still sitting on the bench after many of the other players had already headed home. "Hey, Bailey, don't be so hard on yourself - it's just a game!" He stood above me, resting one foot up on the bench next to where I was sitting.

"Yeah, I know. I just can't believe how different it is to hit those slow pitches - guess I'm still used to the rhythm of the fast-pitch game, even after a few years away from playing!"

"Well, I can tell that you're a very talented player - so it's just a matter of getting your timing down. You need to be a little more patient than you're used to, the ball just isn't coming at you as fast. I'd be happy to stick around for a while tonight if you'd like to work on your rhythm?"

I looked up at him, was once again pulled in by his genuine smile, and nodded, smiling back, taking him up on the offer.

We hung out at the field for at least another hour, Jason or I occasionally breaking down into laughter at my ridiculous swings, until I finally started to feel comfortable, hitting a few solid ground balls, ropes out to the outfield, and even, finally, a home run over the right-field fence.

"On that note, Bailey, why don't we call it a night."

"Thanks so much, Jason, I really appreciate your taking the time to do this!"

"Hey, my pleasure. After all, we can't have our cleanup hitter swinging through every pitch, can we?"

*-*-*-*-*-*-*

What started out as a fairly innocent office crush quickly became an all-consuming passion. Not only was I seeing Jason at work, but every Tuesday night for practice, every Friday night for games. And I was in uncharted territory. Throughout my high school and college years, I'd always had guys falling all over me, always had a date - or more - whenever I wanted. I was the successful athlete with the great body, who looked equally good - and knew it - sliding into second or dancing at the club. Now, I was the one drooling over the cute, successful guy. And although we were spending lots of time together, and he was perfectly charming, he either wasn't interested, or was playing hard-to-get. And it was driving me up the wall: I had never had to practice the techniques of trying to win someone's affections, and I sucked at it!

Jason was in his early 40s, had enjoyed great success in business, but not at the expense of his personal life - he was well-liked by employees and business partners alike, and enjoyed life to the fullest when he wasn't working. He was an avid runner, skier, active in many local community causes, and rarely said 'no' to a fun night out, whether a trip to the symphony with some of his wealthy older colleagues, or a visit to the pub for a few beers after a hard day of work.

My first attempt to send him signals that I was interested in more than just catching his balls, was to select a few of my more revealing outfits to wear to the office, and then find excuses to be passing by his office or meet him as he got off the elevator. Whether it was my favorite red silk blouse which showed off my perfect breasts, or a short black skirt which left little of my long, athletic legs to the imagination, I rearranged my closet so that anything I picked would show off my great figure. Rather than putting my hair up, as I often did for work, I let it down, showing off my long blonde locks. Similarly, although I often wore glasses to the office, knowing I'd spend several hours working at the computer, I began wearing my contacts instead, showing off my big blue eyes.

Let's just say, it backfired. Not that Jason didn't notice - he did. I felt warm and tingly each time I felt his eyes moving over my body, enjoying the view that I was so eager to show him. And not that Jason didn't appreciate - he did. But even as he asked me out - after enjoying several days worth of these outfits - I was once again feeling out of my element: rather than having him wrapped around my little finger, I was wrapped around his.

"You know, Bailey, you don't need to dress like that to get my attention. It's much more effective to leave something to the imagination. And if you're going for a sexy office look, you should really stick with the glasses. But hey, I appreciate the effort. What time should I pick you up Saturday night?"

"Um, really? I mean, um, how about 7?"

We had a delightful time that Saturday evening, went out for dinner and drinks and then to a dance club, where I discovered that among his many other talents, he was a great dancer. After enjoying ourselves on the dance floor, we talked for an hour or so over another round of drinks, and then he drove me home, walking me to the door of my apartment.

"Well, Bailey, I had a lovely time, you're great company."

"I had a wonderful time, Jason. Best night out in a long time. Would you like to..."

He interrupted me before I could finish what I'm sure was an obvious question, "I'd better be going, Bailey. See you at the office on Monday." He leaned in, put his finger on my chin to raise my lips to meet his, and kissed me, warmly and softly, and then was off without another word.

I let myself into my apartment and collapsed onto the sofa, confused. It was a perfect evening, and yet I was doubting myself. Let's just say, no man had ever left me at my doorway with just a kiss after a great night out before. I may have left a guy, gone back to my place on the excuse of homework or a game the next day, but anytime I invited someone in, he unfailingly accepted.

Strike one?

*-*-*-*-*-*-*

We began to see each other regularly outside of work - and softball - over the next few weeks, always having a wonderful time in each other's company, yet never progressing beyond the occasional kiss, embrace, or playful touch. After several of these encounters, my frustration growing, I decided it was time to try another tactic. I'd learned enough about him to venture an educated guess about what he might like in terms of playful dress-up, and I planned to surprise him on our next encounter.

He was going to pick me up at 7:30 on a Saturday. Earlier that day, I made a trip to the mall to pick up the things I'd need to complement what I already had on hand, and by 7:15, I was dressed and ready for him. I'd found my old high school cheerleading uniform, which still fit - although my breasts had grown fuller since high school, so the top looked as if I'd chosen it specifically to show off my tits. My high school colors were blue and white, the uniform's top was a blue sleeveless v-neck, and the skirt was white, pleated, with blue trim. My trip to the mall had added to my wardrobe a matching blue bra and thong panties, as well as blue hair ties which I used to pull my hair up into ponytails.

At 7:25 - Jason was always punctual, so I knew he'd arrive exactly at 7:30 if not one or two minutes earlier - I left my apartment, walked down the hall, right out the front door of the building, and stood on the sidewalk, waiting for him. If it wasn't such a quiet neighborhood, I probably wouldn't have risked it - but fortunately, as I'd guessed, Jason was the first person to see me when he arrived a few minutes later.

He got out of his car, spotted me, and paused for a moment, taking in the view with a smile. He walked over to me, took me by the arm, and walked me back towards the building, saying, "let's get you back inside, shall we?"

I eagerly followed, hoping that my bold move had the desired effect, and he was taking me inside to ravish me, but I soon realized I was mistaken.

"Do you have no patience, Bailey?" His eyes were still smiling, but his voice was all seriousness once we were back in my apartment.

"Um, but, don't you like it?" I twirled around, my skirt rising up as I did so, giving him another great view of my tight ass.

"Of course, Bailey, you're adorable. I just think you still have a lesson to learn about showing a little discipline. You don't always swing at the first pitch, right? Anything of quality in life is worth waiting for, that's all I'm saying."

"Well, um, yeah, but..."

"Well, then, let's go out, enjoy a nice evening. You should probably change first..."

Strike two?

*-*-*-*-*-*-*

I know I've shared this already, but it bears repeating. I was completely out of my element, utterly confused and frustrated. Yet at the same time, I was having the time of my life. I was dating a great guy, enjoying my job and the camaraderie of the company softball team. I just couldn't understand why he hadn't made his move yet. I kept thinking about what he'd said that night, about anything of quality being worth waiting for. I did agree, really I did, I'd just never had to wait for sex before!

I should catch you up on the progress of the softball season. In the midst of all this personal drama, the team had done quite well, and we were in the game for the league title. My teammates made sure I knew that they'd never done this well before, and that they credited me with much of the success, which obviously filled me with some pride, but it was still Jason's approval I was ultimately seeking.

The title game was a neck-and-neck one, each team responding with an equal number of runs after the other team would score. Finally, in the top of the ninth, we'd pulled ahead by two, and it was just up to us to hold the lead through one last inning. Jason struck out a weak hitter to start the inning, one down. He then gave up a hit and a walk, then got the second out with a pop-up. Two outs, two on. With our teammates cheering, we began what we hoped would be a quick last at-bat before we could begin our celebration.

The only thing standing between us and victory was the other team's best hitter. Oh well, victory isn't as sweet when it comes easy, right? After weeks of catching Jason's pitches, I began to remember a little of the feeling of playing in a high-stakes game. My pulse picked up a little, and I became ultra-aware of my surroundings. Strike one. Ball one. Strike two. Jason then motioned for me to visit him on the mound.

I got up out of my crouch and jogged to meet him.

"You've got him, you can strike him out!"

"I didn't call you out here to talk about softball, silly," Jason said with a wink.

"Oh, what then?"

"It's been great throwing to you tonight, watching you totally in the zone. You're much sexier when you're not thinking about your appearance and trying to impress me with skimpy outfits, you know. You've been very patient, and I think you've finally earned the best sex of your life."

"Oh, really," I quipped, "and what makes you think you'd be the best I've ever had?"

"Did that sound as ridiculous to you as it did to me, Bailey?"

I couldn't help but giggle as he called my bluff.

"Now, let's get this guy out. And don't you dare think we can sneak off right after the game. We've got to celebrate with the team first. But don't worry, we'll go back to my place afterwards. Just a little more patience, Bailey."

I'd never felt hot and bothered while wearing all of my catcher's gear before, but in that moment, it was all I could do to concentrate long enough to get back behind the plate and catch the ball Jason threw for the third strike. Our team met up at the pitcher's mound, high fives all around to celebrate, and then we piled into various cars for the short drive to our hangout pub a few blocks from the field. Jason had given me a ride to the game that night, so I rode with him to the pub.

"Unzip my pants," he commanded as soon as we were on the road.

"What, now?"

"Yes."

I did as I was told.

"Now, put it in your mouth. I want you to suck my cock until we get there."

I immediately followed his directions, unbuckling my seat belt and leaning over, both hands working to free his cock from his uniform and boxers, before taking him into my mouth. His soft cock quickly grew hard, and within a few moments I was straining to keep his full length inside my mouth. Knowing that we must be almost to our destination, and trusting he would stop me when we arrived, I began bobbing up and down on him, eager to satisfy. Just moments later, he stopped me.

"Good girl, that's nice work. Now, let's go enjoy the company of our teammates." He quickly zipped up, his erection disappearing as he put on his company boss hat and marched into the pub to congratulate everyone on the victory. Knowing that I would be rewarded for patience, I poured a beer from the pitcher at the nearest table and began mingling, going so far as to ignore Jason while I talked to the other folks there.

About an hour later, I felt a hand on my shoulder and turned to see Jason behind me. He whispered to me, "It's time, but let's not make it obvious that we're leaving together. Why don't you go first, wait in my car, and I'll be there in a minute."

I nodded that I understood, and after saying a few quick goodbyes, made my way out to the parking lot and let myself into his car. My mind racing with the thoughts of his big hard cock buried deep inside of me, I watched the clock on his dash as about five minutes went by, before he finally came out to join me.

"OK, Bailey, here we go. Are you excited?"

"Oh, yeah."

"Did I mention how sexy it was to watch you behind the plate tonight, waiting to catch each of my pitches, and throw it back to me, getting into a rhythm? I couldn't help but imagine what it would be like to be with you tonight. You're not tired from crouching, are you? Because I was hoping we could put you in that position a little longer."

"Actually, I am, maybe I could just go down on my knees for you?"

"That works for me."

A few minutes later, we arrived at his house, helped each other out of our uniforms, and were soon in his bedroom, naked.

"God, you're gorgeous, Bailey."

His hands moved all over my body, squeezing my breasts, pinching my nipples, briefly cupping my pussy, before he asked whether I was ready to get on my knees and continue what I'd started in the car a few hours earlier.

"Absolutely, Jason," I smiled, going down to my knees and pulling his entire cock into my mouth with one smooth stroke. I cupped his balls in my left hand, rolling them between my fingers, tickling them, as my right hand grasped his shaft firmly and worked together with my mouth to establish a regular rhythm. As I worked, Jason gathered my long hair in his fingers, grasping it into a tight ponytail, and used it to control my motions on his hard cock. He then began encouraging me with his words.

"That's it, Bailey, stroke it, long smooth strokes. I've watched you every time you've come up to the plate, bat in hand. Do you realize how naughty it looks, your routine with your bat? You hold it up with your right hand, stroke it up and down with your left, before every swing. Every time I watch you I imagine what it would feel like to have those hands around my cock."

Even just a few minutes in, it was clear to me that Jason's stamina was impressive compared with guys I'd been with in the past. I'd actually prided myself on being able to get a guy off in just a few minutes, but it was obvious that Jason knew how to last, how to enjoy the build-up to his climax that much more. Just as my jaw began to tire, after sucking him off for several minutes more, he let me up for air.

"Let me help you up, Bailey, your knees must be tired. I think you've earned a turn at a little pleasure."

He encouraged me to lie down on the bed, and spread my legs wide apart, before kneeling on the floor next to me. He slowly explored my inner thighs with his tongue, with long, wet strokes, before finally reaching my pussy lips, spreading them apart with his big, strong fingers, and beginning to lick me, my juices already flowing. I moaned and arched my back in pleasure with his first touch to my clit, and then cried out in delight as he plunged one finger deep into my pussy.

His touch was expert, nothing like the guys I'd been with in the past who had blindly rubbed away on me, just hoping to make me wet enough to fuck. Jason actually knew how to bring a woman pleasure. My eyes were closed as I enjoyed the touch of his tongue and fingers, so it wasn't until I felt his movement that I realized he was shifting positions. He kept one finger active inside of me as he climbed up onto the bed, straddled me in a 69 position, and thrust his cock in my mouth as his tongue once again found my clit. As I continued to writhe in pleasure beneath him, I focused all the attention I could on him, pulling his balls into my mouth and sucking them, one by one, as my hands were busy stroking his shaft.

I once again pulled his cock into my mouth, sucking in as much length as I could and holding it there, as he sucked my clit into his mouth and massaged the entrance to my pussy with two fingers. After just a few moments more of this extreme pleasure, I came, a powerful orgasm wracking my body as I moaned around his big cock, still buried in my mouth. He kept up his calm rhythm as I rode out this pleasure, before finally pulling his weight up and off of me, sitting down next to me on the bed and watching as I fondled my own breasts, enjoying every moment of the ecstasy he'd brought me.

When I finally came back to reality, I saw that Jason had been stroking himself as he watched me, and was once again rock-hard and ready for action. "That was incredible, Jason. Best orgasm I've ever had. You were right, patience has its rewards."

"You sound like you think we're done..."

"Oh, no, I can see you're ready for more."

I smiled and sat up, crawling over to him and straddling his legs as he let his head and shoulders fall back against the pillows. I rubbed his rock-hard cock against my pussy lips, moistening it with my juices, before finally positioning myself over him and lowering, slowly, until I had him fully inside. I remained there for several moments, just rotating my hips slightly, enjoying the fullness, and then finally began moving up and down just a few inches with each stroke.

He reached up and grabbed my breasts as I rode him, kneading and pinching my nipples. After several minutes in this position, he spun me around into a reverse cowgirl, grabbing my hips to encourage my motions as I continued to bounce up and down, the strokes deeper and faster now. I cried out with pleasure at the sensations of this new position, encouraging him with every stroke with louder and louder moans of pleasure.

After riding him for what seemed like hours, Jason pushed me up and off his cock, and we both climbed off the bed. He took me by the hand, led me to the foot of the bed, spun me around and embraced me from behind, whispering in my ear, "put your hands against the bed frame and spread your legs, I want to fuck you from behind until we both cum."

I eagerly did as I was told, and just a moment later was ready for him to plow into me from behind. He didn't keep me waiting, and I screamed out in delight at this new level of penetration. He grabbed my hips and pushed in and out of me forcefully and with a relentless rhythm. I knew I wouldn't last long before cumming again, and from the sound of his breathing from behind me, neither would Jason. I decided to encourage him on, looking back over my shoulder at him with sultry eyes and talking dirty.

"Come on, Jason, fuck me, harder! That's it, just like that, fuck me, fuck meeeeeee!"

He was pounding me furiously now, and after a few moments more I succumbed to the ultimate pleasure. It was all I could do to stay on my feet, clutching the bed frame with my hands, as he continued to thrust in and out, moaning with pleasure as my pussy pulsed around his cock. Finally, just as my own orgasm was subsiding, he pulled out of me and cried out as he shot a huge load of cum all over my back.

"So, Bailey, how was that for you?"

"I think we knocked one out of the park."

"Agreed. Let's hit the showers."

Wednesday, June 2, 2010

Walking to Work

My embarrassment has finally ebbed to the point that I think I can share this story. Actually, I want to put the story in writing before too much time has passed, before I forget any of the amazing details. It all started with Earth Day, just over a month ago now.

The company I work for has a tradition, for Earth Day, of encouraging employees to think about ways in which they can reduce their carbon footprint, whether at the office or at home. I think of myself as fairly 'green' already - I recycle, I rarely eat take-out with all those wasteful styrofoam containers, I drive a hybrid car, all that good stuff. So I wasn't really sure how much more I could do. But I'm always open to self-improvement, so I went to a few of the workshops at the office, and about a week before Earth Day, realized the answer was simple.

My apartment is only about a mile from the office, and yet I drive to and from work every day. After watching a presentation about how much of an impact can be made by people getting out of their cars - even cool new hybrid cars like mine - and choosing to walk, bike, or use public transportation, I was convinced. I would probably have to use the car in the winter, but for the rest of the spring and summer, at least, I would walk to work.

I shared my plan with my best friend at the office, Josh, who promptly teased me about becoming one of those women who wears tennis shoes and little white socks with their business suits as they walk to work. I laughed with him about what a silly look that is, and assured him there wouldn't be any fashion faux pas involved in my Earth Day activities. It's only a mile, after all, I can do it in heels. He smiled, and we went back to work.

Even though I made the decision a few days before, I figured I'd make a statement by starting my new routine on the morning of Earth Day. It was a Thursday this year. I set my alarm a bit earlier than normal, ate my usual healthy breakfast, and got out the door with plenty of time to get to the office. I chuckled as I looked at myself in the mirror before leaving, remembering my conversation with Josh. I have always been fairly fashion-conscious, and if I could say so myself, always looked good. Today I had chosen a white silk blouse, a flowing black skirt, and a red silk scarf and matching red pumps to add a little color. No way in hell would I repeat the foibles of my mom's generation and mix that outfit with bright white tennies!

I waved to a few neighbors as I walked to the end of my block, and before I knew it was on the main street which would take me the rest of the way to the office. I had to laugh at how short the trip really was, and how reliant I'd become on my car, to cover even a distance as short as this. And even though I was close to downtown and there was quite a bit of traffic, it was still a pleasant walk, walking past shops, bending down to pet a cute dog that was tied up outside a Starbucks, actually saying 'good morning' to people. In addition to my environmental accomplishment, I was filled with civic pride. Yeah, I admit it, I really was that full of myself.

Honk, honk. I looked to see who was driving by, maybe a coworker from the office? But the car sped off before I could see inside. Another block later, a different car, with a higher-pitched horn, beep beep beeeeep! This car slowed, began to pull over, but once again, before I could see inside, pulled off. Weird.

Then, just about a block from the office, a third car. This time, the man inside rolled down the window and smiled as he slowed and pulled over.

"Um, can I help you?"

"I don't know, honey, can you?"

"Look, I don't need a ride or anything, I'm really close to where I'm headed."

He winked, rolled his window back up, and pulled back into traffic, speeding away. Really weird.

Once in the office, I was quickly swamped with work, so didn't have time to mention to anyone my strange walk to work. The walk home, though, was even weirder. Three or four different cars, again with the same pattern of honking, pulling over to look at me, then speeding away. The same thing the next day, Friday, both morning and evening. Was it that unusual to see someone walking to work? Were they slowing down to take in the spectacle of my profoundly 'green' activities?

I quickly forgot about it over the weekend, as I got together with some old friends to hang out on Saturday and then visited my parents on Sunday, so it wasn't until Monday morning that I thought about it again. I was almost all the way to work when a blue sedan pulled over up the block from me, left the engine running, and rolled down the window just as I approached.

"Excuse me, miss?"

"Um, yes?"

I walked up to the open window and bent down to see in. A nice looking older gentleman was smiling back at me.

"I'm wondering if you can give me some directions?"

"Sure, what are you looking for?"

"Well, what can you show me?"

"Excuse me?"

Before he could answer, he looked up, became visibly nervous, and quickly sped away. I shook my head in wonder, glanced at my watch, realized I'd be late if I didn't hurry, and walked quickly the rest of the way to the office, stopping only to let a police car with sirens blazing go through an intersection in front of me.

Josh and I met for lunch that day, and I decided to share my strange story with him, thinking he'd get a laugh out of it at least, and maybe have some idea what was going on with all these strange drivers.

"So, Holly, what you're telling me is that as you walk down the street, a busy city street, dressed like you are right now, you were honked at several times, and a few cars even pulled over?"

"Yes, that's the gist of it. Weird, huh?"

"And you really don't see what's going on?"

"You mean you do? Please, explain it to me, I'm dying to know!"

"OK, I'll explain it to you. I don't want to embarrass you, but it's really pretty obvious to me what's going on here."

"Please, go ahead."

"Alright, Holly. Well, um, you're a very attractive young woman."

I blushed, averted my eyes for a moment before looking up at Josh again, "Thank you, Josh!" I'd always had a crush on him which I'd kept secret because of the whole co-worker dynamic. Was it possible he felt the same way?

"Long blonde hair, big green eyes, a great figure, and you're very well dressed."

"But that's just, I mean, that's just for work. What does that have to do with anything... not that I don't appreciate the compliment?"

Josh smiled, paused, then continued.

"Anyway, an attractive young woman - what are you, 24?"

"25, but again," I smiled and playfully touched him arm, "thanks for the compliment."

"OK, so work with me here. An attractive young woman, dressed up, walking alone on a busy city street."

"Yeah, so?"

"What's something people might assume about someone like that?"

"You mean, other than just that I'm walking to work?"

"Well, hmm... how to say this? What if they assumed you were already at work?"

"What the... oh my god, really?"

I blushed much hotter than I had before. How could I be so naive?

"I'm pretty sure, Holly. I mean, what else could it be? And didn't you say that the one guy sped away right before you happened to see a cop car? He probably left so fast because he was worried he was going to get caught!"

"Yikes, you're right. And I had no clue. Here I was, smiling and waving at some of these guys, obviously just making it worse!"

Josh was grinning at me.

"You can't tell anyone, right?"

"Oh, of course not, don't worry. Your secret's safe with me. Hey, maybe you should have worn the tennis shoes after all!"

This time my touch wasn't as playful, I actually kicked him under the table. Taking out my embarrassment on him.

"Hey, ouch!"

"Sorry..."

"Actually, Holly, I think it's very sweet that you didn't realize."

Josh was looking deep into my eyes, and I once again was pulled in by his charms, as I had been so many times before. Maybe I was over-thinking the co-worker thing and should just go ahead and ask him out. After all, we're both single, and obviously have a good rapport. He took another bite of his sandwich, and before he could finish chewing and say anything else, I realized I could take advantage of this situation.

"So, Josh, why is it that guys pick up hookers?"

He coughed, my question obviously surprising him enough that he swallowed his bite of sandwich a little faster than he intended.

"C'mon, what makes you think I'd know the answer to that?"

"Well, you know, don't guys talk about things like that? I mean, for example, most of the guys driving past me were perfectly decent-looking, well-dressed, nice cars, they could certainly find a date without, you know, having to buy one?"

"Hmm, well, maybe it's the thrill of getting caught. Or the idea that she'll do something that you wouldn't ask your girlfriend to do."

"Yeah, I guess..."

Now Josh took a risk, escalating our conversation.

"Or maybe some guys like the idea of paying for it, you know, slapping a $100 bill on the dashboard and asking her to suck you off right there in your car."

I blushed once again, but kept my eyes on his, shifting in my seat as the warmth grew between my legs.

"Wow, really?"

"Just a theory."

I was the one to take the next risk.

"Does that interest you, Josh?" I leaned across the table towards him, putting my hand on his, daring him to take a peek at my cleavage.

"Well, yeah, frankly, it's getting me a little excited right now, just thinking about it."

He glanced quickly down my blouse, then looked back into my eyes.

"Wanna?"

"Excuse me?"

"Oh, please, like you're not already hot and bothered, just thinking about it?"

"Alright, fine, you're on!"

"OK, it's a deal. I'll follow you home tonight after work. If I don't stop, just know it's because it wasn't safe, and I'll try again tomorrow. Hey, Holly," he said, looking at his watch, "we've stretched our lunch out a little, better get back to work."

"Alrighty then. See you later."

I could barely concentrate on work that afternoon. I felt a combination of tingling excitement and numb disbelief that I'd actually just agreed to such a naughty scenario. Premeditated prostitution. I'd end up in jail, no doubt. Lonely, since my family would be too ashamed even to visit me. And yet, in spite of my nervousness, the excitement won out. Perhaps it was finally time for such a good girl to break out of her shell.

As I said 'good night' to the folks at the office and set out into the brisk evening air, it occurred to me that I didn't know what kind of car Josh drove. We'd spent lots of time talking at work, gone out for drinks on a few Friday evenings, even to a few company outings around town, but I'd never actually seen him in his car. Shoot, this would be even riskier than I'd thought.

I was wearing black that day. A fitted black skirt that reached just below my knees with a slit which showed off a bit more of my right leg as I walked. A black sweater buttoned over a low-cut red silk blouse. A few of those buttons had been undone while I ate lunch with Josh, but they were all fastened now, as I walked through the chilly air. I was wearing my favorite pumps - black, but with a stripe of red along the edge which matched my blouse. Before the last week or so, I never saw this outfit as anything but professional - stylish and flattering, but professional. But now, conscious of every inch of my skin, I felt the fabric of my skirt move over my ass as I walked, felt my breasts move under my silky blouse as I breathed, a little more heavily than normal. Naughty.

Honk, honk.

Oh, god, please be him, please be him. I turned to see a fat, rather hairy guy in a pickup, a naked-lady shaped air-freshener hanging from his rear-view mirror, smiling at me. It was so obviously and ridiculously not my friend Josh, that I found a confidence I didn't know I had.

"Seriously, dude? I don't think so. Move along."

I had to laugh to myself as I kept walking. I'd never rejected a crude proposition so bluntly in my life, and I had to admit, it felt great. It was an interesting power to have, to be the object of desire for so many, but to choose just the one you want.

A few minutes later, I heard another car slowing behind me. Honk, honk.

It had to be him, please, let it be him. I heard the power window as he rolled down the passenger side.

He didn't use my name, but I immediately recognized the voice.

"Hey, sweetheart, can I give you a ride?"

I turned, quickly took in the fact that Josh drove a BMW, instinctively looked both ways to make sure I wasn't being watched, and then leaned down, resting my forearms on the passenger window frame. "What can I do for you, honey?"

"How about you get in and suck my cock for a while?"

"It'll be $100, you sure you got that kind of money?"

"Oh, yeah, baby. Get in."

I stood up, opened the door, and got in next to him, immediately placing my hand on his crotch, feeling his cock already hard.

He reached out to touch me, but I slapped his hand away.

"Patience. First, pull around the corner and park. Then, I want to see that money of yours on the dashboard."

He smiled, and promptly did as he was told. He checked his mirrors, then quickly darted out into the street, squealed to a stop at the next intersection, turned right, and pulled over to the curb. He rolled up the passenger window, then turned off the engine and unfastened his seat belt. He then reached into his pocket, pulled out his wallet, found a crisp $100 bill, and slapped it on the dash.

I reached for it, folded it neatly, hiked up my skirt, and slid it underneath the garter that was holding up my stockings, giving him a momentary glimpse of my sexy red panties. He moaned in pleasure as I quickly unzipped his slacks, fished his cock out of his boxers, and began stroking him.

"OK, baby, here are the rules." I was as surprised as he was at the confidence of my voice. "You can touch me anywhere you want, but no clothes come off. Same for you. Your cock is the only part of you that needs to be undressed right now."

"You got it."

I leaned over and took him entirely into my mouth, and his cock quickly grew to full size, forcing me to back away for a moment before finally relaxing to take him deep into my throat. I then began a very slow and steady up and down motion, taking several seconds to let his full length out of my mouth, the tip of his cock escaping from my lips with a pop, before taking the same amount of time to suck him in once more.

"Oh, god, that's so hot," he groaned as his hands began exploring my body. With his right hand, he moved from one breast to the other, slowly kneading and then pinching my hard nipples through the fabric of my blouse and bra. I moaned in pleasure, rewarding his touch with increased tempo on his cock.

Soon, he let his hand fall to my lap, where he let his fingers trace a route up and down my inner thigh. Before long, I knew I'd need to shift positions - I was limited in my motions on his cock, and his fingers were unable to reach where I most wanted them to reach. Keeping my left hand on his cock, stroking firmly and evenly, I got up from my seated position, putting my knees on the passenger seat so that I could more easily face his cock. While shifting positions, I hiked my skirt up so that it wouldn't be trapped under my knees, and his fingers could explore underneath.

After taking just a moment to free his balls from his boxers so that I could give them more direct attention, I once again took him deep into my throat. He needed no instruction to reach his right hand up my skirt, trace up my inner thighs, and come to rest at my wet pussy, slowly working my panties to one side so that he could touch me directly. When he finally reached his goal, I panted with intense pleasure at the touch of his fingers, and had to let his cock out of my mouth long enough to catch my breath. Realizing I was being paid to do a job, though, I used the opportunity to give his balls a thorough licking and sucking, which seemed to inspire him to give me even more attention.

After a few more moments of playing outside my pussy, teasing my clit, he slipped first one, then two fingers inside of me, the angle of our position allowing him to reach just an inch or so inside me. From this position, he was also able to rest his thumb on my clit, applying pressure now and then.

I pulled away from his cock one last time, just long enough to whisper in his ear, "That's it, baby, fuck my dirty little pussy with your fingers. Come on, harder, squeeze another finger in there, make this worth my while as I suck you off."

"Oh, god, yeah, suck me, suck my cock until I cum...."

I went back to work, panting with my own pleasure as I sucked his entire length into my mouth once again. I kept him there, deep in my throat, for a few moments, fondling his balls, tickling them, rolling them between my fingers, before picking up my up-and-down rhythm once again. He was pounding three fingers into my pussy with increasing intensity, and I matched his pace, feeling like a dirty slut as I bobbed up and down on him in his car, my long blonde hair bouncing with each motion.

Without slowing my rhythm, I reached down with my left hand, grabbed him by the wrist, pulling his fingers from my pussy and pushing them towards his mouth. He groaned as I forced his fingers into his mouth so that he could taste my juices, and I quickly returned my hand to cup his balls. I stroked and sucked him furiously now, and after just a few moments more, I felt him begin to jerk beneath me, before finally shooting his load deep into my throat. I caught as much as I could in my mouth, before a few drops escaped my lips. I quickly reached up and caught them, forcing his cum back into my mouth, knowing that any hooker worth her $100 wouldn't spill a drop.

"That was incredible."

"Well, that's why you hire a pro."

"Money's not an issue, sweetheart, any chance I could hire you for something more?"

"Absolutely, but it'll have to be another time," I said as I sat back down in the seat and straightened up my clothes. "I've got another date waiting for me tonight."

"When, then?" His desperation seemed real, as if he'd bought fully into the fantasy, forgetting our real identities, the fact that he'd see me at work the next day. Did I pick up on some jealousy? Was he worried that I really did have another date that evening?

"You know where to find me. I walk that same street about the same time each evening. See you around, honey," I said, opening the door and getting out. Without another word, I turned and walked back towards the main street, and turned towards home.

TO BE CONTINUED...

Tuesday, June 1, 2010

His Girl Thursday

"Don't worry that you weren't able to finish, Maggie, I'm sure Carmen will be happy to take over where you left off."

It was a common line from him. After I'd been on my knees for at least 20, maybe 30 minutes, pleasuring him with my mouth and hands, he'd abrubtly cut me off, reaching for my hand and pulling me to my feet. I'd fume for just a moment and glare at him, but he'd win me over with his sexy smile and a spectacular kiss, and then he was off.

If John weren't the single most charming man I'd ever met, I told myself, I'd never put up with it. But he was. He was intelligent, funny, interesting, not to mention attractive. My god, he was sexy. And confident, the kind of confidence that made those around him feel somehow more important just by virtue of talking with him. Not only did I not mind our peculiar relationship, it was actually a turn-on for me.

We'd met several years earlier, becoming good friends when we worked for the same company. I had since moved on to a job elsewhere, but we'd stayed in touch, and our friendship had blossomed into something more. Not quite a normal romantic relationship, mind you, but certainly an, um, unique relationship. Over the years, I'd shared things with him I'd never shared with anyone, and I think I served a similar role in his life - someone he could confide in, someone with whom he'd share pretty much anything. And I do mean anything.

I should explain that John had insatiable appetites. To put it bluntly, he could never get enough head; he longed to have a beautiful woman sucking him off at least once a day, preferably multiple times. And he was charismatic enough to attract multiple women at any one time who were more than happy to serve his needs. He always had a steady girlfriend, but in addition, several other women in his life, myself included. And luckily for him, along with his undeniable charm, he also possessed a steel-trap mind capable of keeping track of all of these relationships with ease. He never forgot a name, never missed a date, and most importantly, never got caught.

None of these other women knew about each other; I was the only one who heard all the stories. It had all started a couple of years back, because of the way in which he shared everything with me. At first, I think he was worried that I'd judge him, counsel him to straighten up and fly right, commit to just one girl. Instead, much as I tried at first, I couldn't hide my excitement, my desire to hear more and more of the stories he so obviously wanted to share. And once our relationship crossed the line into all things sexual, and he realized how much I enjoyed hearing about his experiences with other women - well, let's just say, there was no stopping him.

He loved watching the look on my face as he described what he liked most about each of them, their bodies, their technique when it came to sucking his cock. He took great pleasure in taunting me any time I would gag as he forced his cock deep into my throat: "Carmen has no trouble deep-throating me, you know..."

His girlfriend, Carmen, worked out-of-state, flying in each weekend to be with him. Although he often expressed to me how much he missed her during the week, I knew the schedule suited him just fine, as it gave him the flexibility to meet up with the other members of his harem, as we jokingly called them, on a regular basis.

There were two at the office - both of whom I remembered from my time there. There was Katie, a cute blonde secretary of about 25, and April, a member of the sales team most memorable for her absolutely perfect tits. Neither knew anything about the other's relationship with John, although as I knew from his stories, there had been days when they'd both sucked him off, within hours of each other.

Then was Jenny, a 22-year-old hottie he'd met at the gym, with whom he met up every Tuesday night for a few hours of hot sex. Apparently, they'd meet up after working out, walk the few blocks to her apartment, and, well, work out again. She apparently loved to talk dirty to him, a challenge he loved to throw in my face when I might be a little reluctant.

Kylie was the 19-year-old barista he'd seduced after a series of visits to the drive-through coffee stand on his drive to work. He saw her every morning, but it was Wednesdays when they'd arranged a regular rendezvous - she was able to schedule her break to coincide with his visit, when he'd pull in behind the coffee stand, she'd jump into his truck, and suck him off. Ah, if only he'd reward me with a mouth full of cum after just a few minutes - but, more about that later...

I should really mention at this point that John is 41. I know, I know, you're thinking he's the luckiest man in the world. But as I've explained, luck has nothing to do with it; he's got the talent to pull it off. Oh, and you probably thought I was done. But there's one more woman in his life. That's right, seven in all.

The latest is Sarah, a college student who lives in his building, two floors up. They'd met - you guessed it - on the elevator. After a series of chance encounters, they'd stopped to talk in more detail, discovered that they liked to watch the same show on Monday nights, and before he knew it, John had a standing date to visit her each week, bringing wine and flowers in exchange for head. He was worried she was falling for him - every once in a while, one of the women in his life would cause him some stress by getting a little too clingy - but he kept her in check by never giving her more than just the one evening per week.

No matter how many of these stories I'd heard, I still hung on his every word as he described each new conquest. There was seemingly no young woman who wouldn't succumb to his charms, no hottie he couldn't obtain, at least for a few casual encounters. If I hadn't experienced his charms myself, I probably wouldn't believe it.

Thursdays were my day with John. Don't get me wrong - we talked fairly regularly on the phone, and occasionally went out casually with old friends. But Thursdays were our standing date for sex. Our work schedules coincided so that we both got off early that day, and we had regular plans to meet up at my apartment. Although he'd often be there for hours, it was always with the understanding that he'd have to head home at something close to a respectable hour, to clean up his place and get some sleep before Carmen was home for the weekend. But we made the most of our time.

This particular Thursday night, I brought John a glass of wine and studied his features for a moment as I sat down next to him on the sofa. As I'd noticed many times before, his attractiveness came from a combination of rugged strength and calm gentleness. His blue eyes were penetrating but sweet, his smile was always genuine, his body was fit and muscular, his jaw strong, and his demeanor completely confident and relaxed.

When my eyes caught his, I saw that he was studying me as well. I took a sip of wine, then set down the glass and soaked in the attention as his eyes moved over my body. I reached up to my hair to release it from the clip that had held it up for the work day, and my long blonde waves cascaded down around my shoulders.

"Take off your blouse."

I did as I was told, my eyes never leaving his.

"And your skirt."

I unzipped my skirt, slithered out of it, and tossed it to the floor next to the sofa. I was now sitting before him, in matching black lace bra and panties, as he began stroking his cock through his slacks.

"Do I have to do everything, or are you going to get over here and get to work?"

Our banter was familiar, a constant play of dominance and submission, of master and naughty cock-sucking slut, which never seemed to grow old for me. I quickly scrambled across the sofa and knelt between his legs, the wetness growing between mine as I unzipped his slacks and began fondling him through his boxers.

"So," he said just as I had freed his cock and pulled it into my mouth, "have I told you that Jenny's gotten just as good as Carmen at deep-throating me?"

He wasn't fully erect yet, so I had no problem keeping his entire cock buried in my mouth, my nose pressed against his torso, but I took his words as a challenge to remain there even as he continued to grow. He knew I occasionally strained, gagging when he forced his hard cock down my throat, and never hesitated to rub it in that there were women - women he'd seen just the day before - who could deep throat him with no problem.

I knew that I had other talents, though, and began fondling his balls in his favorite rhythm. Unfortunately for me, that just brought him to his full size even faster, and soon I gagged and had to pull away a bit. As I tried to bring my hand up to clutch his shaft, he grabbed it, pulled it away, and pushed me down once again with his other hand.

I gagged once again before finally relaxing and allowing my throat to accept his bulging cock. Not to state the obvious, but in addition to John's other talents, he had the sexiest cock I'd ever seen. He was about 7-8 inches when erect, not the biggest ever, but the perfect size to fill an eager pussy, the perfect size to fill my mouth to capacity. And in spite of my occasional struggles to take his full length deep into my throat, I did love to suck cock. After all, John and I would undoubtedly have parted ways long ago if I didn't.

"Good girl," he said as he let me up for air. "Now, just use your hands, and look up at me. I want to see your big blue eyes as you touch me. Tell me what a little slut you are."

"I'm such a naughty little slut. I love to suck your cock and make you cum all over my tits."

"Oh, so you think you can make me cum tonight, huh?"

"Absolutely, if you let me!"

"All over your tits, you said? Well, we'd better take a look at those, see if they're ready for such a precious gift. Have I told you how absolutely perfect April's tits are?"

"Once or twice."

I continued to gently stroke his cock and balls as he reached down and unhooked my bra, tossing it aside after it fell from my skin. He cupped my breasts, one in each hand, aggressively pinching my nipples, causing me to moan in pleasure as I once again took his cock into my mouth.

"You know, Maggie, there's nothing like the enthusiasm of a young working girl, eager to please, jumping into the passenger seat of my pickup to suck me off."

"Working girl?" I asked, pulling away from his cock long enough to humor him, pretending for a moment to believe that he'd picked up a hooker.

"Sure, you know, the barista?"

"Ah, right."

"So much enthusiasm. Like she really wants it. Not a pitiful effort like yours."

Soon after he'd discovered that hearing about other women turned me on, triggered my competitive nature, he'd also discovered that I enjoyed a little discipline. I knew enough to take the hint, and went back to work on his cock, bobbing up and down quickly on the tip as I stroked his shaft with one hand and fondled his balls with the other.

"Don't let it out of your mouth, Maggie, no matter what!"

His words hinted that he would begin challenging my physical ability to keep his cock buried in my mouth. He grabbed my hair in his hands, wrapping it around his fingers, pulling it tight, before finally using it to pull me away, as I fought to keep him inside, his tip between my lips.

"Good girl, Maggie, keep it up, like you really want it!"

He pulled my hair even tighter now, and I whimpered in pain, but he was letting me move freely once again, and I eagerly took in his entire length once more, the lack of air and fighting against my gag reflex nothing compared to the moment of pain he'd just inflicted on my scalp.

He now shifted his attention once again to my breasts, squeezing my nipples to the point of pain, as I squealed in pleasure, panting as I continued to suck him off. A few moments later, his hands gently rested on my jaw bone, as he considerately massaged and kneaded, simultaneously encouraging my rhythm on his cock and helping me to relax as I worked to pleasure the man with superhuman stamina.

Suddenly, one hand left my cheek and found my ass in a sharp slap. Against my better judgement, I pulled away, looking up at him. Even though I was familiar with his touch, aware that discipline was always a possibility, he still had the ability to surprise me. It was as if we were riding the seesaw between pleasure and pain. I might be expecting a regular cycle, back and forth, between the two - but occasionally he'd just hop off and let my ass slap against the ground.

"What's taking you so long, anyway? When I meet up with Katie or April at work, they're able to get me off in just a few minutes. What do you think, do they just want it more, or is it a matter of talent?"

I wanted to argue, point out to him that he was in complete control of whether or when he allowed himself to cum, but of course that was exactly the point - he was in control - so arguing was pointless.

"Let me try again, John, I'm sure I can do better."

He stood up and stepped away from the sofa, motioning for me to get down on my knees on the floor in front of him. His cock jutted out from his body, still glistening with my saliva. I once again took him into my mouth, slowly at first, then gradually building into a quicker tempo, my hands busy on his balls, for a few minutes before he stopped me once again.

"Is that your best effort?" It was at these moments that I secretly wondered whether I really was lousy at giving head, or whether it was all just part of the game.

"I know what you need. Stand up."

I followed his direction, standing up, the blood slowly flowing back to my numb lower legs. He pulled me close, his fingers finding my nipples and squeezing, hard, as he whispered in my ear.

"Tell me how much you like to suck my cock."

I fought to speak through the combination of pain and pleasure simultaneously working through my body.

"Nothing gives me more pleasure than to suck your big, hard cock."

He let go of my sore nipples, spun me around, pulled me close, and embraced me from behind, nibbling and then whispering in my ear as I let my head fall back against his shoulder.

"You'd like to feel me inside you, wouldn't you?" His hand reached down between my legs, a finger slipping beneath my panties. "You'd like to taste your own juices on my cock before you bring me to orgasm?"

"Yes, yes," I panted almost inaudibly.

"You're wondering if I've fucked anyone else this week, aren't you. Whether I bent April over a conference table when we were supposed to be in a meeting. Whether Kylie rode my cock before she brought me my coffee?"

"Yes, god yes," the image of him fucking another woman so hot I could hardly wait until he was inside of me.

He bent me over the side of the sofa, forced my legs wide apart, and just when I expected him to pound into me, instead slapped me hard across the ass.

I cried out in surprise and looked back at him over my shoulder.

"Oh, yeah, you'd like a few more of those, wouldn't you!"

I couldn't deny it, but I also still wanted him to bury his cock deep inside of me. I felt my own juices start to trickle down my inner right thigh. "Patience, Maggie," he said, as if psychic, "you'll get both if you're just patient enough."

Unable to speak, I just nodded back at him. He looked down once again at my flushed ass, my legs spread wide before him.

"Ooh, what's this," I felt his finger on my inner thigh, "a little excited, are you?"

He gathered up my juices with his finger, brought his hand around to my mouth, forcing me to taste my own juices as he pounded into me in one smooth motion, my pussy already so wet as to make his entry easy. He held there, motionless, for a few moments, as my pussy pulsed around his cock, before beginning a slow and steady rhythm, in and out, in and out.

In contrast to his incredible stamina, I came after just a few minutes, already at such a hightened state of arousal that I couldn't hold on any longer. Once I had covered his cock with my cum, he pulled out, spun me around, and pushed me back to my knees in front of him. Still dizzy from my own climax, I once again took him into my mouth.

I held nothing back this time, keeping up a fast pace as I sucked him off, my right hand stroking the base of his cock as my left hand gently fondled and tickled his balls. Even after all of the attention, after all of the fondling, the fucking, the sucking, he still managed to prolong his release for several minutes more.

When he was finally ready to succumb and allow me to bring him to climax, he once again wrapped his fingers around my hair, using his grip to control the precise speed and depth of each of my motions up and down on his throbbing cock. After a few moments more, he began to jerk, and I caught the first bit of cum on my tongue before he pulled out and shot a huge load all over my chest.

His hot, sticky cum covered both of my ample breasts, slowly dripping down to the nipples until I reached down to scoop it up in my fingers, then bringing my fingers to my mouth as he watched me enjoy the results of his pleasure.

"Good girl, Maggie. Very well done. It's been a good week, I must say. And now the girlfriend comes home. What's her name again?" It was an old joke of ours.

"Carmen."

"That's right, Carmen."

"So, next Thursday?"

"Absolutely, looking forward to it already."

"And I certainly hope you'll have some new stories to share?"

"I wouldn't dream of sparing you any of the juicy details. I know how much you love to hear about the rest of my harem."

There you have it. John and his Girl Thursday.