Literotic asexstories – Assignment at Sherwood Academy by Chris6160,Chris6160
I don’t think the usual caveats apply to this story per se; there’s a lot of sex in it throughout. However, the actual BDSM content doesn’t show up until later, so please don’t be put off if the chains and such aren’t around to start.
Also, hopefully this is clear from the text, but despite the high school setting, all sexually active characters are over 18.
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The faint hint of chemical cleaner, stale water, and BO were not the most romantic bouquet to make love to.
Jennifer didn’t care; they weren’t making love anyway.
“Yes! Yes! Fuck me! Harder!” she cried out. The words echoed in the locker room, with all the surfaces being stone or metal. The slaps of her ass against his body as he plowed her doggy style also echoed.
“Shut up, for fucks sake,” the man behind her growled, “It’s already six, there could be people around.”
“Just fuck me,” Jennifer repeated.
Dick kept going. He was the academy “athletic advisor” because boujee places like Sherwood Academy didn’t have anything so pedestrian as a gym teacher. They’d met in college, and immediately pissed each other off; he assumed she wanted in his pants because he played football, she retaliated by calling him Dick constantly, when he insisted everyone call him Rich. Of course they’d been fucking by Junior year, though they never made a relationship work.
She’d recommended him to the board of the school. An NFL prospect with the bad luck to blow his knee out senior year, he was a well-known enough name to gain the school some more clout. And the athletic director being a former NFL player cinched it.
School hadn’t even officially started when Jennifer cornered him in the locker room the first time and they got “reacquainted”. They were both married, but she didn’t care.
“I wanna play with your tits,” he said.
“No way,” she grunted back as his cock continued to split her pussy open, “Like you said; people are coming. That’s why I wear the fucking skirts.”
She was proud of her tits. Full 34DDs with no artificial ingredients, she scandalized the older women of the school by wearing push-up bras that turned her chest into a spectacle. She barely had to work to get the attention of male students in her class. They weren’t focused on the material so much, but anything to keep their minds from wandering, she could work with.
Dick reached around and pawed at her chest anyway. Despite the two layers of fabric the squeezing actually felt good; his usual clumsy, rough groping was muted into a nice massage of the breasts that helped her arousal.
“Ohhh fuck I’m close,” he said.
“UP!” she cried, “Pick me up, finish me like that!”
This was one of the best features of fucking Dick. He used his physique to lift her legs by the knees and hold her against his chest. She came off the floor, wrapping a hand around his neck and feeling his hard pecs against her back. His thrusts into her were helped by gravity, and the angle meant the head of his cock rubbed right over her g-spot. She even got a little extra from her boobs bouncing around in her bra, her hard nipples rubbing against the fabric.
The effort stalled him long enough that he lasted an extra minute or so bouncing her on his cock. Jennifer heard him growl and felt the pulsing as he came. His arms gave a little and he dropped her farther, slamming his cock home deep in her pussy and actually touching her cervix. It felt a little like a punch in her pussy.
It made her cum.
It wasn’t a huge orgasm, but it was enough to make her shudder and set her pussy quivering around his shaft. She felt a few drips of their combined fluids leak out of her.
“Put me down, put me down,” she urged him.
He let her go and she scurried over to her bag, then ducked into one of the shower stalls to clean herself up. She pulled her skirt back down so it stopped somewhere above her knee again, rather than acting like an extra thick leather belt.
When she came out, Dick still sat there, his pants around his ankles and his shirt off, looking a bit despondent.
“Come on,” he pleaded, “We’ve got some time. Come sit with me.”
“Fuck’s sake, Dick, we’re pushing it as-is. Caught half-dressed in the locker room isn’t any better than being caught fucking. If you want to snuggle, get in bed with your wife.”
Dick sighed. “She isn’t like that. She isn’t even around half the time because of work.”
“You signed up for that, remember?” Jennifer said as she found a mirror and re-did her ponytail. She had blonde hair long enough that she could make a “topknot ponytail” wrapped with her own hair and it still came down to her mid back. She finished and turned to him.
“I told you back then; I like teaching, and I need someone who can support that, practically and financially. You were going to be traveling everywhere for the NFL before. Now you’re another teacher. I helped set you up with your hi-powered lawyer wife, remember?”
“You also said we’d keep each other company on the side,” he said.
“What the fuck do you think we just did?” Jennifer retorted.
“That was a booty call,” he said.
“Well unfortunately my husband is a little more demanding when it comes to my attention,” Jennifer said, thinking in her head that was a vast understatement, “So I can’t sneak off with you to a motel room for a sleepover. If you can’t handle that, maybe you need to find another side piece.”
Jennifer stormed out, the click of her heels on the floor partially drowning out his calls of “Jennifer!”
She wasn’t angry with him, but she needed to set expectations. She was fine fucking him on the side, getting quickies in the morning or at lunch. Jennifer wasn’t going to start a full-blown affair, though. She wouldn’t be able to manage that with her husband.
She got to her classroom with plenty of time to spare before the bell went off. In the name of maintaining an “old-world feel,” the school still used actual, ringing bells. All of the students filed in in their uniforms; jackets for everyone, pleated skirts and knee socks for the girls. Despite the dreams of porn fetishists everywhere, the skirts fell below the girls’ knees and their blouses were always done up tight to the collar. Some of them might have been rebels and worn thongs or even gone commando, but that was as titillating as anything could get. The guys just looked like assembly-line suit models wearing the cheapest jackets and slacks that could be bought.
That meant her own jacketless, silk blouse and tight skirt combo with thigh-highs and three-inch heels may as well have been a bikini given the way most of the guys and some of the girls stared at her. She smiled at them.
“Bonjour classe,” she said.
“Bonjour Madame Arlington.”
=-=-=-=-=
“Are you taking me to lunch Mister Kalmus?” Jennifer asked as she fell into step beside the taller man.
“We seem to be going to lunch at the same time,” he replied with a smile.
“And to the same place, I’ll bet,” Jennifer said.
“Unless you have somewhere else you have to eat,” he said.
“Well I don’t, but there are stories of young teachers sneaking off with other faculty during lunch you know,” she said.
Mister Kalmus smiled and waggled his eyebrows. “Do they now?”
“I think they do,” she said, “I’ve heard some strange sounds sometimes when I’ve needed to rush to make copies at lunch.”
“Oh you mean that supply closet near the faculty bathrooms? Yes, rumors about that room for years. They say that’s why it got one of the new coded locks; the old lock was too easy to pick,” Mr. Kalmus said.
“Yes, and we teachers all have the code don’t we? So if someone did want to fool around in one, it would have to be one of us. Or two of us,” Jennifer suggested.
Kalmus chuckled, but sounded down. “Maybe twenty years ago, Madame Arlington. I’m too old to get anyone to play those games with anymore.”
Jennifer personally disagreed. Peter Kalmus was older; he’d gone past 50 a few years ago. But he had the chiseled face and stocky frame of an old Hollywood star, with salt and pepper hair and a sensual voice he didn’t even have to try to make sexy. He could read the phone book and get panties soaking. Rumor had it certain girls who didn’t have anywhere near the required grades tried to get into his AP English classes just so they could hear him read Byron.
“You never know until you try,” Jennifer suggested, “I bet you could put your arm around any two women in the school and they’d follow you right into your bedroom.”
“And then have to carry me out when the heart attack kills me,” Kalums replied.
Jennifer smiled along and chuckled as their banter steered away from the possible and into fantasyland. She’d established the game with him her first year after he’d asked her to stop into a class to comment on differences between meanings in original French literature and the English translations. Some of the content had been a little racy, and she’d used the opportunity to flirt with him after class. He came right back at her with the confidence of a tenured teacher with enough clout to survive a sexual harassment suit, or at least enough money to retire if it didn’t go his way.
He had no idea Jennifer wasn’t at all kidding, about any of it. She’d take him into the closet, take him home to his bed, even find another woman to join them if he’d only take her seriously. But she had to content herself with staring at him over lunch, then excusing herself to jill off in the bathroom just before class and wash her hands.
=-=-=-=-=
“[You wanted to see me, Madame Arlington]?”
Jennifer looked up at the thin boy standing in the doorway to her classroom. Micah Townsend was in the running for valedictorian of the senior class, basically neck and neck with Amy Hu, a stereotypical Asian girl down to the thin frame, chin-length black hair, aggressive “tiger” mother, and the violin.
He’d greeted her in French, which they were both practically fluent in; her actually, him from education.
Jennifer had cheated her way into education by having a fully French paternal grandmother who ended up raising her a lot of the time after her mother passed away from cancer. While her father tried to split his time between caring for her and working enough jobs to keep them fed, her grandmother inadvertently made her bilingual by speaking French around her as a toddler while her father spoke English. Even with mediocre grades from an unremarkable college, she’d been a shoo-in for the French teaching position; they could claim to all of their patrons that their French teacher was a “native speaker” but didn’t have to sponsor her for a visa or pay extra because she was a scholar who’d come over from Europe; they could just pay her like any other second year teacher out of college. After all, they needed to keep the students’ $85,000/year tuitions earmarked to maintain the varnish on all the wooden walls.
“[Why are you in my French four class, Micah]?” she asked.
He looked confused by her question and answered her in English. “I’m…it’s the next class offered and-”
“You aced French three without even trying,” she said, also switching to English “I know; I taught you. Your grade in that class was something like 120 because you did all the extra credit. Why am I teaching you French IV and not AP French?”
“I…I have a lot of other classes and activities and I had to prioritize,” he stammered.
Jennifer smirked. He couldn’t look her in the eyes, but his gaze hadn’t traveled down to his shoes like a stereotypical nervous kid. No; they’d stopped a bit higher.
“Eyes, Micah,” she said. She didn’t snap, she gently reminded him. Despite that, he looked up, wide-eyed, then literally down at the floor while his face turned beet red.
“What other classes are you taking?” she asked, letting her voice get a little harder.
He listed off AP classes in Biology, Physics, Calculus, and Government, and two electives: Electrical design and a class related to a national business innovation competition. All classes that would look good to business or Ivy league schools, but the electives weren’t rigorous. She knew the actual reason.
AP classes had a separate test, administered by a third party company that sponsored the curriculum. That test was difficult, and also given somewhat before the end of the school year. For that reason, the students usually didn’t take finals in their AP classes, nor did they take midterms; their grade was only based on their quarter grades.
To prevent high-flying students from being “punished” for taking an AP class, the teachers tended to grade permissively; a student in AP getting less than a B required them to be actively delinquent. Their grades were also weighted higher due to the work being “college level.” This generally preserved everyone’s class rankings.
However, because of a quirk of the math, it was theoretically possible to take mostly AP classes and a conventional class, and because the conventional class had a midterm and final exam grade, if the student aced them, they would end up with a GPA higher than a student who took all AP classes.
Micah was trying to do that, and he was using her class as his loophole.
“Micah, I don’t appreciate being played,” she said, standing. He was shorter, for a guy; in her heels she had an inch or so on him in height, helped by his slouching or, at the moment, his cowering.
“I…I don’t know-” he stammered.
“You picked my class as your safe bet. You plan to simply coast your way through on your talent, giving it only enough time and effort to ace the tests and extra credit work. Your focus won’t be on me.”
At “focus”, she put her finger under his chin and lifted his head up. However, she stopped when his eyes were level with her chest.
She gave him fifteen seconds to stare at her chest, the outline of her bra slightly visible beneath the pearl-colored silk. Then she abruptly turned away, saying, “So I hope you’re happy with salutatorian, because I’m not giving you perfect scores.”
“What!?” he said after a moment.
“You’re blatantly taking my class because you won’t have to put in as much effort. I’m not rewarding laziness.”
“You can’t do that!” he insisted. Jennifer might have had more respect for him if his tone was authoritative and angry, but instead he sounded frustrated and pleading, almost whining his objection.
“Sure I can,” Jennifer replied, “My tests involve essays. Their grading is subjective, and I am the authority on French at this academy.”
“I’ll switch into your AP class, then,” he said.
“We’re well into September, Micah; it’s far too late. My class’s enrollment is closed,” Jennifer said.
Micah somehow seemed to slump even further, crushed and defeated.
“Is it really that big of a deal, Micah?” I asked, “Valedictorian? Salutatorian is just as prestigious.”
“The really good colleges reject valedictorians. Forget anything less,” Micah complained.
“So what are you planning to do with the extra time you don’t have to try in my class?” Jennifer asked, “Go out with your girlfriend?”
Micah scoffed. “I don’t have a girlfriend.”
“Do you want one?” Jennifer asked.
“I mean…Sure, I guess. Not gonna happen though. Nobody thinks I’m hot. They just want me to do their homework for them,” Micah grumbled.
“Did you?” Jennifer asked. She’d let her voice get more sympathetic, but she kept it low and sultry. She also slowly moved closer and lowered herself to Micah’s level.
“Sometimes, at first,” he said with a shrug.
“And what did you get for it?” Jennifer asked.
“Nothing.”
“Well that’s silly. They should have at least paid you. Or maybe offered you something more?” Jennifer suggested, running her finger up his thigh. He tensed at the contact and glanced back and forth between her face and her hand (and her tits; his eyes just couldn’t help themselves, it seemed).
“Fuck no,” he said, “Their boyfriends all threatened to beat me up.”
“And they still ask you?” she asked.
“Y-yeah,” Micah stammered. Jennifer’s other hand had settled on his other thigh. She could also see his penis straining against his pants.
“Well that’s not fair. Don’t you think you should be compensated for helping all those students?” Jennifer asked.
“Um…yeah…it would be nice,” Micah said.
“Well then.”
Jennifer had his belt and pants undone lightning quick. She slid her hand around and goosed him enough that he flinched, which let her yank his pants down. His penis, rock hard and leaking, stood straight up in the air.
Jennifer’s eyes briefly bulged in appreciation. Micah had a decent size cock on him. Probably eight inches and proportional in girth.
“Mad-Missus-what are you doing?” Micah said in near panic.
“Compensating you,” she said, and then leaned forward and inhaled his cock.
She didn’t go very far down, but she did engulf the whole head and part of the shaft. Her tongue swirled around his crown fast, and she gripped the shaft after a second. She could feel him trembling already. If her guess was right, she was giving him his first blowjob, and she predicted the results.
It took all of maybe fifteen seconds for his hormone-flooded brain and virgin cock to succumb to the new sensations of her mouth and tongue. His semen erupted out and hit her throat. She swallowed as fast as it emerged.
“Oh fuck. Shit. I-I didn’t mean-”
“You’re a young man,” Jennifer said, pulling her mouth off of his cock but continuing to rub her hand up and down his shaft, “I expected that.”
“Do you…um…you do this for a lot of guys?”
“Micah, how rude,” Jennifer scolded, smiling at his extreme blush, “You never ask a woman for her body count.”
“I…uhhh…fuck that feels good,” he said. His eyes didn’t seem to know where to settle.
“Do you want to feel good again Micah?” Jennfier asked. Micah just nodded. “Well then you have to be polite. Do you know how to be polite, Micah?”
Micah nodded again Jennifer stood and sat on top of the desk his chair was next to. She hiked up her skirt and spread her legs wide, resting her heels on the desks to either side of them. It was almost a full split.
Micah was briefly transfixed by the long, smooth, creamy white skin of her thighs, but then his libido caught up and locked his gaze on the triangle of red fabric between them. Her thong was barely underwear; it rode so low her pubic hair would have shown, but she had none. The fabric stopped just at the top of her slit, but it was pulled tight, giving her an obvious camel toe.
“Miss-…Mrs…What?”
“You said you’d be polite, Micah,” she purred, running her fingers through his hair. “The polite thing to do,” she continued as she settled her hand behind his head, “is return the favor.”
She pulled his head forward. He didn’t resist, but he seemed lost. She was able to move his head down to her pussy without any resistance, but he also didn’t do anything; it was just his nose resting a little above her clit and his lips mashed against the gusset of the thong. Jennifer sighed inside; this was going to take some time.
“Use your mouth, Micah, and your tongue.”
He didn’t get it at first, trying to peck at and then suck on the panties. She finally gave him an encouraging moan when his tongue pressed against the fabric.
“Yes dear boy, keep doing that for a bit,” Jennifer said.
It was little more than foreplay for her; the fabric kept him from giving her real stimulation, but it still felt good. After a few minutes she had him back off. She saw him rub his jaw.
“Was…was that enough?” he asked.
She couldn’t help laughing. “Micah, when did I stop with you?”
“After…After I orgasmed,” he replied.
“And did I orgasm?” Jennifer asked.
“Um…I don’t know.”
“So much to learn. Trust me, if a girl’s having a really good orgasm, you can tell. And no, it isn’t her screaming ‘oh my God, I’m cumming so hard’ like in porn, at least not always. But you’ll be able to tell somehow. Now, why don’t you try licking me directly?”
Micah didn’t need to be pulled forward the second time, but he was still hesitant. He licked around the fabric and Jennifer couldn’t help but shiver at the first contact of his tongue on her. He kept getting closer and pushing at the edges of the thong. Eventually he looked up.
“That’s right, Micah, pull it to the side,” Jennifer encouraged.
He tentatively slid his finger under the fabric. He hit her clit by accident and Jennifer shivered again. He pulled it to the side, exposing her lips and soaked slit, along with the nub of her clit poking out.
“Right here, Micah,” she said, pointing to her clit, “I want you to lick from the middle and stop right here.
He followed instructions like a good student. He seemed hesitant about the taste at first, but he either stopped noticing or started enjoying it. Her pussy got soaked with her juices and his spit as he kept licking.
She let him go on like that and secretly had an orgasm. It was a small one, so she covered it with a moan and barely shivered. An experienced lover might recognize it, but Micah couldn’t tell the difference between that and her regular responses.
“Try putting a finger inside, Micah,” she said.
It took a while, but slower was better in Jennifer’s mind; she definitely recalled her teenage experiences with torn nails and callused fingers jammed hard into her pussy at the slightest invitation from early boyfriends. His finger slid in so slowly she barely noticed until she felt a little pressure on the walls of her pussy. He pumped in and out but kept his finger in the middle, barely rubbing anything.
“Curl as you’re pulling out, Micah,” Jennifer said, “Like you’re motioning for someone to come over.”
Again following directions perfectly, his finger grazed her g-spot on his next stroke. It barely touched it for a second; he was still too timid to really get his finger in, or to use his longer middle finger to get good depth, but Jennifer let it slide. It was the kid’s first pussy dinner; he’d have time to learn.
Between that and his continued attention to her clit, Jennifer felt another orgasm building. This one would be bigger, an actual climax she’d have trouble hiding. She could give him more pointers, but things like g-spot teasing, alternate sucking and licking, and actual tongue fucking could wait.
She dialed up her performance a bit, letting guttural moans out as her pleasure built and thrusting back against his mouth. He lost his rhythm a bit, but by then the impacts of her clit on his stubble were stimulating to the point that she made it over. A long, loud moan accompanied her shuddering and pulling her legs in.
“You feel that Micah? You feel my pussy squeezing your finger?” she asked, her voice breathy and trembling as she came.
“Uh huh,” was all Micah could say, mesmerized by the sight of the first woman cumming directly from what he’d done to them.
She let out a sigh when her orgasm calmed down. “How was that, Micah?”
“Um…amazing.”
“Now what, Micah? What do you want?” she asked.
“I…Um…I don’t know,” he said.
“Of course you do,” Jennifer said, “You’re thinking it right now. You’ve got a woman with her pussy out in front of you asking you what you want to do. What’s the first thing you think of. Say it! Now!”
“I wanna see your boobs!” Micah blurted, then looked down and blushed hard again.
Jennifer smiled and pulled his face up with a finger again, doing it slowly so he could look at her pussy again and linger on her still-covered breasts.
“Of course you do, Micah. Everybody does. Even little Amy Caulfield who sits next to you stares at my boobs sometimes. I can’t figure out if she’s jealous or wants the same thing you do. What do you think of that, Micah? Would you like to watch Amy suck on my boobs?”
The girl in question was a tiny thing, barely more than five feet tall and thin without curves to speak of, on top of being shy, though she knew Micah and her chatted a little in class. Imagining her lezzing out in front of him like a depraved nymphomaniac got his blood pumping; Jennifer could literally see it as his hard cock bobbed in time with it.
“Here’s the thing, Micah. My boobs are my best asset. If you want to see them, I need something in return,” Jennifer said.
“Anything,” he said.
“Ohhhh careful what you promise, Micah, especially when a woman’s undressed. You aren’t thinking straight, and women know it. What if I wanted you to bend over and let me stick a dildo up your ass, hmm? Some women are into that, pegging their boyfriends. Do you want a dildo in your ass?”
“N-no!” Micah said immediately. He started to back away, but Jennifer wrapped her hand around his cock again and stroked it, keeping him from losing his erection.
“Here’s what I’m offering Micah; you can see, and fondle, and suck on my boobs all you want if you fuck me while you’re doing it,” she said.
“W-w-what?” he stammered.
“Give me your virginity. Stick your cock in my pussy and fuck until you cum. As long as you keep fucking me, you can play with my boobs. What do you think?”
“Um…I…but you’re married and…and kids-”
“He’s not here and I’m not getting pregnant,” Jennifer said. Micah’s mouth opened and closed like a fish for a second.
“Or,” Jennifer continued, “I could just give you another blowjob. But then no boobs.”
“I…um…Mrs…fuck….” Micah muttered, sighing at the end; she was still stroking his cock, albeit slowly.
“Limited time offer, Micah,” Jennifer prompted.
She could practically see him weighing the options. She was also aware of the clock. She was taking a serious risk already. She gave him fifteen more seconds.
As he continued stammering and looking around at her eyes, chest, pussy and hand on his cock, she finally said, “Sorry, Micah; time’s up.”
She dropped to her knees and inhaled half his cock in one go, covering the rest of his shaft with her mouth. Her head bobbed fast on his cock like she was on a mission, which she was.
Since it was his second orgasm in a relatively short period of time, Micah lasted a whole minute before filling Jennifer’s mouth with cum.
The second orgasm wiped him out, and he slouched back in the chair with droopy eyes.
“I’m really sorry, Micah, but there’s just too much risk,” Jennifer said, as she stood back up and fixed her skirt for the second time that day, “When life presents you with opportunities, you have to seize them, sort of like I just did.”
Despite his worn-out appearance, she saw his face drooping a bit yet again. Then she set the hook.
“Tell you what, Micah. I think you did a passable job eating me out. Would you like to do it again?”
“What…um…yes! Yeah! I would,” Micah said, seeming to remember her advice after a moment’s thought.
He got up and started toward her, but she held up a finger. “I was serious, Micah, we don’t have time now. But you come back after school on Friday. I’ll give you lessons on taking care of a pussy. If you do a good job on the days you come visit me, I’ll suck you off again. And if you keep doing a very good job by the end of first quarter, I’ll let you take that nice cock of yours and stick it in my pussy while you play with my breasts. Deal?”
He just nodded, his mouth open so wide she thought he could probably swallow a cock without teeth dragging.
“Also, if you do a really good job with my body, I’ll give you top grades for each quarter, with some extra credit bonuses.”
“Really?” Micah asked. Jennifer had to try really hard not to roll her eyes at the fact that he sounded more excited about getting the grades than he did about the hottest teacher in school offering to fuck him (she was the hottest teacher; she’d seen the students’ online polls).
“Now run along. I have to finish things up. Oh and of course, if you tell anyone about this I’ll deny it and make your life hell. Now shoo!”
Micah was out the door in the next few seconds, so fast Jennifer wasn’t sure if he’d actually pulled his pants up completely.
So she’d secured herself a rug-muncher for the foreseeable future, but she was still frustrated. His initial attempt eating her out wasn’t horrible, but she’d really wanted to get that cock in her, for a few reasons. Now she had to wait until the end of the quarter. She wouldn’t be as disappointed, but she hadn’t known he was packing a monster.
He wasn’t the only one, however.
=-=-=-=-=
“What do you mean, ‘busy’?” Jennifer asked, with a glare.
She patted herself on the back a little at getting the basketball star to back down. Jerome Collins was six-foot-five and muscular, and was also one of maybe twenty black students at the academy. Except for the one girl whose parents ponied up the tuition, the rest of them had all been recruited to shore up the schools’ athletic programs in track, basketball, and football.
Jerome’s height and build was proportional throughout his body, particularly where it counted. It had taken all of two weeks for her to corner him after school this year when he turned 18, and his nine and a half inch rod of black flesh had spread her pussy open shortly after, and several times since.
But even gourmet caviar got boring if you ate it regularly, so she’d asked for a summary of the basketball team’s ‘loadouts’, so to speak. He identified three guys that were comfortably above average. She’d wanted him to bring them along today.
They were, as he’d said, “busy.”
“Did you explain to them what was going on?” she asked him.
“Well you told me not to say who you was,” Jerome objected.
“You’re passing all your classes, I assumed you were smart enough to figure out an alternative,” Jennifer griped. She pulled out her phone.
“Get over here,” she said.
Jerome was next to her in two steps. She yanked down his loose sweatpants and the boxers beneath, exposing his manhood. She took it in her hand, then bent over and wrapped her mouth around it. At the same time she undid the buttons on her blouse to show off the deep line of cleavage her boobs made with her bent over like that. She angled the camera and took a picture, then stepped back.
“Aww that felt nice, now how about you-Fuck!” Jerome nearly squeaked as Jennifer grabbed his balls in a vice grip. It wasn’t a full squeeze, but she knew it was very uncomfortable for him.
“If you touch me right now, I’ll bring you up on assault charges,” Jennifer said as she clumsily began editing the photo one-handed.
“Bitch you’re assaulting me-ow, ow, ow fuck, okay okay!”
It took Jennifer another minute or so to get it so the picture showed her mouth around Jerome’s cock, her cleavage, and her legs, but her face was invisible. She sent the picture to Jerome’s phone.
“Show your boys that one next time. That should convince them you aren’t trying to set them up for something,” Jennifer snapped.
“Yeah, um…right,” Jerome said, lost for a moment looking at the amateur pornography now sitting on his phone.
When Jennifer started walking off, he said, “Hang on! What about-”
“No; you fucked up. Now the only way you’re getting in this pussy again is if three other cocks spread it open before you do. If you don’t want sloppy seconds, you find a bitch to lick it clean for you.”
“Whatever,” he mumbled, but Jennifer could tell by his body language that he’d try his damnedest to get them there. Her declaration that he’d be going last in the train and for a girl was new and kind of spur of the moment, but it could still be fun. It also made things harder for Jerome, something Jennifer thought he deserved after pissing her off.
=-=-=-=-=
Jennifer paused in the garage, her hands gripping the steering wheel. She was home earlier than she said she’d be. She thought about driving around, maybe hiding away somewhere for as long as it would have taken for Jerome’s basketball buddies to run the train on her, but she was a miserable failure at lying to her husband.
Given today’s performance, she was a miserable failure at a lot of things.
She got out of the car with her bags and went into the house. She brought the bags into the master bedroom, then found Calvin in his office.
He was dressed in loose pants and a button-down shirt with what was called a “Mandarin collar”; just a straight line that rode high on the neck, but without folding over the way usual button-down shirts did. His shoes were comfortable sneakers. She walked into the room.
“Shoes,” Calvin said.
The floor of the room was plush carpet, at least over by his desk. He didn’t want divots in it, and her heels definitely made those. She winced because she’d forgot, slipped the shoes off, and walked forward nervously.
“You’re home early,” Calvin said. He kept his eyes on the three monitors on his screen, one showing some sort of visualization tied to the light music he had on, two others with windows showing code, scrolling data, and email boxes.
“My last appointment…apparently there was a scheduling conflict,” she said.
“And how many successful meetings did you have?” he asked.
Jennifer looked down at her bare feet. “One,” she said.
He turned to her slowly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you,” he said.
“One,” she said.
“One,” Calvin repeated, “and who was that?”
“Dick,” Jennifer muttered.
“So the sure thing. The guy you’ve been able to fuck since college. That Dick?” Calvin asked.
“Yes,” Jennifer said. She already felt her eyes sting with tears.
“How the fuck do a bunch of high schoolers have ‘scheduling conflicts’?” he asked, standing and heading over to her.
“I…I didn’t ask, Jerome just-”
“It was RHETORICAL you stupid WHORE!” Calvin shouted in her face.
Jennifer flinched back and then he grabbed her jaw hard and made her look at him through tear-filled eyes. His green ones were slanted and angry, his lips white around the edges from him pressing them into a line.
“No, I’m sorry, you’re not a whore. Why are you not a whore?” he asked.
“Because…because whores get paid,” Jennifer stammered.
“Very good,” Calvin said, then pulled her in for a kiss.
Jennifer melted into it. She tried to press her whole body against him at once but he pushed her back hard enough that she almost stumbled.
“Please husband-”
“NO!” Calvin snapped, “What did I tell you before?”
“Only….only nympho sluts beg for it,” Jennifer replied.
“That’s right. Did I ask for a whore? Did I ask for a nympho slut?”
“No.”
“What did I ask for. What did you promise in your vows?” Calvin asked.
“I’d…I’d be your loving hotwife.”
She hadn’t made those vows in a church, or in front of a priest. She’d made them with her arms cuffed to her ankles, with a collar around her throat barely leaving her enough room to breathe while Calvin’s cock hammered into her pussy and his hips slapped against her bright red ass as she screamed out an orgasm.
“And what does a hotwife do?” Calvin asked.
“She…she fucks whoever her husband tells her to.”
“And who did I tell you to fuck?” Calvin asked her.
“All….all the straight men at school,” she said with a slight hitch.
“How many is that?” he asked.
“um-”
“Never mind. Did you beg today? Did you get on your knees and plead with Dick to fuck you?” Calvin asked.
“No. He was begging me.”
“Well you’re not a nympho slut, then, congratulations, and nobody paid you, so you’re not a whore. Which is good, because you know what they get?”
“They…they get given to dirty hobos for gang rapes,” she said.
“Right. What do hotwives get?”
“They get love, and attention, and all their sex needs fulfilled,” she said, her voice pleading and trying to convince Calvin of her love for him.
“But you didn’t fuck everyone I told you, did I?”
“I can’t, Husband!” Jennifer snapped, “There’s too many-”
Her protest was cut off with a sharp thwack. She hadn’t seen him grab the paddle. Between the leather wrapping on it and her leather skirt it wasn’t as brutal as it could have been, but it hurt.
“Thirty male teachers at that school. They’re all married or widowed, so all of them fuck pussy. For the sake of quick counting, assume everyone in the senior class is 18. The academy’s graduating classes are about 120. Two thirds of those are guys, usually, so now we’re at 80. Somewhere between ten and fifteen percent of them are gay, but you told me about that one kid last year who told you ‘I’m not that gay’ so we’ll take another 10 percent off. That leaves you seventy-two. Seventy-two plus thirty is 102. Are you following me so far? Or are you forgetting this again, since we’ve discussed it before and you’re a stupid bimbo?”
Another thwack on her ass from the paddle made her jump and look up at him; her eyes had lost focus listening to him rant.
“Most of those teens’ll be lucky to last two minutes, but some of them might be above average, so we’ll use two minutes. That’s 204. The older guys, the teachers, they’re men; they have experience, but you’re still a walking wet dream, so they get five. That’s another 150. Add that to 204 and we have 354. That’s a little under six hours. That’s not even a full school day and you could get it all done!”
Jennifer flinched again. His yelling, his sharp barbs of comment, felt almost like more swats with the paddle.
“But you told me you couldn’t do that; take a whole day and fuck the student body. So we agreed to three people a day. That’s about a month. You haven’t even managed that. What are you up to now? How many cocks have you had in your pussy from that school, slut?”
“Six,” Jennifer said meekly.
“Well then. You’re a girl who doesn’t follow her husband’s directions, but goes out and fucks a lot of other guys. Do you know what that makes you?”
“A s-s-lut?” she asked and got another thwack for her trouble.
“We covered that already, God you really are stupid aren’t you? That’s what you are; a stupid bimbo. You flash your huge tits and your blonde hair and you fuck anything that’ll get between your legs, but you’re too stupid to follow instructions and you’re too stupid to seduce anyone that won’t stick their cock in you anyway. You know what you do with stupid bimbos? Of course you don’t, that’s what ‘stupid’ means, doesn’t it? Well I’ll show you. Get over there.”
“There” was the playroom part of his office. The carpet ended and was more like the floor at a gym; solid but with some give like rubber. Most importantly, it was much easier to wash. Jennifer scurried over, and as she did she could feel the cold friction of her soaked thong against her legs and pussy.
“Stupid bimbos like to show off their boobs, first of all,” Calvin said.
Jennifer didn’t react and that got her another swat on her ass with the paddle. “Get your top off! God how stupid are you? Do you remember how to unhook a bra? Undo buttons?”
“Yes, yes, please, I’m going!” Jennifer pleaded. She was so nervous her fingers actually did have trouble with the buttons, and she worried he’d get impatient and tear it off her. She loved this blouse and didn’t want that to happen.
She got it off and practically broke her bra undoing the clasp so fast, exposing her double-D breasts with now diamond-hard nipples and crinkled areolae to her husband.
“Bimbos don’t have anything going for them except their bodies, particularly their boobs,” Calvin said, “So show me how well you use your boobs.”
Jennifer started doing a little dance, cupping and squeezing her own breasts. She pushed them together to get maximum cleavage, then pulled them apart and spread her hands over them to show him she couldn’t fit them in her little hands. She pinched and twisted the nipples, moaning for him, but it wasn’t totally an act. Her breasts had been ignored all day. It had been so hard for her to deny Micah the chance to play with them; she probably could have cum even from his naïve, inexperienced attention.
She did her favorite trick and pushed one of them up. Bending her neck down, she took her own nipple into her mouth and sucked it while groping her other breast with huge grasps that deformed it and shifted it around.
“There’s something missing here. Oh yeah,” Calvin said, “Your makeup. Bimbos like to think they’re whores, but they’re too stupid to remember they’re supposed to make money for fucking and showing off to guys. But they do the makeup. Here,” he said, tossing her a bag she hadn’t noticed him grab, “Go put on makeup. You have ten minutes. Remember; you should look like a whore.”
Jennifer grabbed the bag and scurried out. There was cheap eyeliner, fake eyelashes, bright cherry-red lipstick, body glitter cream, and blue eyeshadow. Jennifer did as much as she could. Eight minutes later she was putting the lipstick on. The falsies went more than halfway up to her eyebrows with her eyes open, and her lids practically glowed blue with her eyes closed, on top of looking like a cartoon character with how heavily she outlined them. She used all of the body glitter, covering her cheeks, neck, and her whole chest and boobs. She put the finishing touches on the lipstick and hurried back.
“Very good, at least you got that right. You look like a desperate streetwalker trying too hard. Now show me what those boobs can do for me,” Calvin said.
Jennifer dropped to her knees and knee-walked over to him. The ground was a little rough on her knees, but she knew better than to complain. She got his pants open and down, exposing his cock.
The uncircumcised rod was about seven and a half inches, but girthy, measuring almost three inches across at its widest point. It filled her up like nothing else.
When she earned that privilege.
She took the head in her mouth and immediately pushed her head down until the cock hit the back of her throat. She did that three times, trying to get a little deeper, then Calvin’s hand held her there and pushed more. She gagged a little as the cock went into her throat. Her eyes stung with tears, but then he pulled back. His hand held her ponytail, keeping her in place while his cock pushed back into her mouth and tried to go down her throat again. She felt tears running down her cheeks and guessed the eyeliner was making streaks of black on her face.
After raping her throat a few more times Calvin stepped back and looked at her expectantly. She shuffled forward and wrapped her breasts around his rod. It was wet enough to slide within her cleavage, but he didn’t move. She had to do all the work, sliding her breasts up and down his cock, making the head disappear in the crease and then emerge again so the slit could deposit precum on her chest. She licked it a few times when it came up, giving it more slickness and tasting the juice he put out.
“That’s enough,” he said, then grabbed her hair again, pulling her along. She could either walk with him or get dragged, so she stumbled after him.
He walked her over to a bench. It looked a bit like a workout bench, except for the chains, leather cuffs, and extra padding.
“Move where I tell you; a stupid bimbo like you wouldn’t be able to figure this out,” he said.
He moved her so her knees were on little padded shelves on either side of the bench, then he put straps on her calves so she couldn’t move them. Then he had her grab onto a bar at the front like it was a racing motorcycle. Cuffs went around her wrists. She had more movement there, but she couldn’t straighten up. The bench was low; she could rest on it, but if she did her ass would point up in the air and only her breasts and shoulders would rest on it. She tried to keep herself upright on all fours.
“And like a stupid bimbo, you couldn’t figure out what was happening, so you forgot to take your clothes off. I guess I’ll just work around them.”
Her skirt was again pushed up to her waist, forming a belt around her midsection. She expected to feel the pull of her thong getting ripped off or stretched out of the way, but he left it.
“Now, bimbo, remind me; how many men have you fucked so far?”
“Six,” she said.
“See if you can count that high.”
The paddle slapped into her ass again. With her on the bench and him in position, he swung harder, and it hit right against her bare ass. She cried out at the impact, but also shivered a bit from the burning heat and how it made her feel. There was a pause, then another hard hit that made her screech.
“I said count, bitch! These don’t stop until we get to six, and you have to count for me, if you can even count that high!”
Another impact hit her ass and she cried out, “One!” He waited maybe ten seconds before hitting her ass again. The pain almost didn’t register except as part of the experience. Her whole body felt alive and energized, and the impacts were just part of it. She missed a number at one point as she felt her pussy clench from one hit, and he kept paddling her until she got the count right. By the time she got to “six”, he’d probably paddled her ass fifteen times. The cool air felt like ice, her skin seemed to be tingling all over, and she felt juice running down her thighs.
She felt him pull her thong to one side, exposing her sodden pussy lips to the cool air. It was almost a shock and she tensed her muscles. Even that was almost enough to set her off. When his fingers slid into her it was all over. He didn’t touch her clit, her g-spot, or any particularly sensitive bit inside her, but the mere act of penetration after all of the abuse and build-up was enough. She let out a moan that turned into sobbing as her pussy erupted, clenching his fingers and coating them with a flood of her pussy juice. She fell onto the bench, opening her ass and pussy to him as he slowly sawed his digits into her quim.
“Stupid bimbo, cumming just from a little fingering. Too stupid to control her own body. You just want to cum, don’t you? That’s what you want; you want guys to drool over you, and you want them to fuck you and make you cum, right?”
“Yes. Yes, please fuck me. Make me cum more,” Jennfier pleaded, “I’m your stupid bimbo and I want you to fuck me.”
“Except you’re a stupid bimbo because you didn’t follow directions, aren’t you? Right?” Calvin asked. He’d moved to the front of the bench and turned her head to look at him. She had trouble seeing him clearly; her eyes were still teary and she thought one of the fake eyelashes was coming loose.
“I…I didn’t follow directions,” she agreed.
“So you deserve to be rewarded for that?” he asked.
“No,” she agreed.
“On top of that, you got me all worked up and didn’t finish me off,” he said.
“You stopped me!” she objected.
She flinched as she finished speaking. Two more swats of the paddle impacted her upturned, bare ass. She screamed out, but also shuddered as the impacts seemed to spark something in her pussy.
“You forgot who hadn’t cum. You didn’t care about me; you were just concerned with yourself. That’s how stupid bimbos are; they don’t think about other people or bother to remember anything except how to make their face pretty, their boobs big, and their pussy wet for their next cock. It’s pathetic.”
“Please! I’ll suck you off! Fuck me! Please fuck me!”
A slap of his bare hand on her ass made her squeal.
“God you’re stupid; you didn’t even remember five seconds ago. You just agreed you shouldn’t be rewarded for messing up. Don’t worry, though; I’m smarter than you. I can help myself and you at the same time.”
She turned around and saw him stand up on a platform. It put him in a position where his cock was a little above her upturned ass. Then she felt cool liquid dribble on the intensely hot, reddened skin.
And between it.
“Yellow! Yellow!” she said.
“It’s got numbing agent in it, and I’m using a lot,” Calvin explained.
Jennifer took a moment. She was nervous, but her heart was racing for other reasons. She was so worked up it was amazing. She decided to trust him.
“Okay,” she said. She settled her shoulders back down on the bench. “Green.”
She worried for a second she’d ruined the mood of the scene, but she felt his fingers playing around her ass. Then one slipped in. It hurt a little, but was more of a shock. She yelped.
“What the hell!?” she said.
“You’re too tight back here,” Calvin said.
“I…I didn’t do any prep!” she said.
“Well how dumb was that? You thought I was going to fuck that pussy? That you’ve been giving out to random guys at the school, none of them being the ones I told you? Are you saying I don’t deserve to get off because you didn’t follow directions?” he asked.
“No, but…my mouth! Use my mouth!”
“You’re a stupid bimbo; you’d lose focus and think you had a sausage in your mouth and take a bite. But fine, I’m not unreasonable. Either you help me like this, or I leave you on that bench and call up a whore and you can watch me fuck her. What’ll it be?”
Jennifer actually considered it. The idea of watching Calvin plow some rando was kind of appealing. She wondered if he had some contact from their network who would come over and play the arrogant, vengeful hooker cuckqueaning her, or if he’d actually call up an escort service and get a legitimate working girl to come over. But she couldn’t bring herself to go that far. Plus she was certain he wouldn’t get her off until after he was done with the other woman, if then.
“Please. Husband, use your bimbo. That’s why I’m here. Let me make you cum,” she said.
Three fingers pushed into her ass and she had to keep from screaming. The burn in her asshole was different than the fire her cheeks had experienced. Eventually, though, like the pain from the paddling, the fingers in her ass stimulated nerves that weren’t pain-related, and the sensations melded together until the hurt was part of the experience. She moaned out as he kept pumping digits into her and didn’t even notice when three became four.
Her whole crotch felt warm and she couldn’t smell anything except her own pussy. She was pushing rivers of girl juice out of her slit.
Suddenly a huge monster was at her ass, trying to gain entry. She tried to bear down and arch her back more to spread herself, but Calvin’s cock was very thick. He rubbed and thrust against her asshole, which inadvertently kept up the stimulation. Her ass was a riot of pain, pleasure, and pressure all at once.
The head popped through, and the sudden change and burst of pain set off all her other nerves. She orgasmed, screaming and quivering as the first part of his cock settled in her bowels. He didn’t wait for her, simply applying more lube and continuing his push. There was no relief; his huge organ spread her open and tested the limits of her anus. He finally settled his hips against her.
“You’re big,” she said, “you’re so big! Cum in me! I want you to cum in me!” she said.
“Oh don’t worry my little stupid bimbo. You’ve got a lot more coming.”
He began pounding her, slow, shallow thrusts at first, then longer strokes as the lube, his and her sweat, and his precum coated her ass from his movements. Soon his head would catch on her sphincter briefly before his whole length slammed back into her, over and over again.
She didn’t know how long the ass fuck lasted, but the whole time the sensations in her ass kept building and building, feeding a connection to her pussy that slowly but surely pushed her toward an orgasm.
Then he slammed into her and came. She felt the pulsing of his cock and the odd sensation of warm cum flooding into her bowels. The thought that she’s pleased him and taken her orgasm inside her made her moan and shudder a bit, but it wasn’t enough to make her cum. She still needed to cum.
“Please!” she begged. “I’m so close. I didn’t cum! Please help me cum!”
“So my bimbo was too dumb to make sure she came with me?” Calvin mocked, sounding a little breathless, “I wish I was surprised. Here, I’ll help you out.”
She heard rustling, and then felt rough nylon on her crotch. Then something slid into her pussy. It was rubbery and flexible, but not alive. Straps came together tight around her waist and thigh. She had some sort of dildo in her, and it didn’t feel horrible, but couldn’t compare to an actual cock for her.
“Clean me off, then we’ll talk about your orgasm,” Calvin said, standing in front of her.
She didn’t even hesitate to lick and suck on his deflating cock. There was a bit of odor around him, but she knew her own body and didn’t worry. Above anything else right then, she wanted to cum. If she cleaned him, she’d be able to cum.
“All right, that’s enough; I asked for a cleaning, not a blowjob, dumb bimbo,” Calvin said.
He walked behind her and she felt the dildo in her move a bit. Then it moved a lot. She didn’t know how, but it moved inside her in a way that mimicked how it might feel for a cock to slide along inside her. The problem was, it wasn’t nearly as stimulating. In fact, it felt muted.
“Ohh, silly me; I used the anal lube on that dildo,” Calvin said, “That means your pussy has a bunch of numbing gel in it. Oh well.”
Jennifer moaned in frustration. She wanted to beg, but there was nothing either of them could do; her pussy was already numbed up. It wasn’t completely numb like someone would do surgery, but she felt a lot less.
“Now, how many guys do you have left to fuck at the academy?” Calvin asked.
“Ninety…six? Seven? I don’t remember!” Jennifer nearly screamed, her frustration boiling over.
“Of course you don’t. Dumb bimbo. We’ll go with 95; nice round number. I have some work to finish up. So for the next ninety-five minutes, you’ll be on that bench, getting fake-fucked by that dildo, and you have time to think about what you can do to make sure real cocks are fucking your pussy tomorrow.”
He walked where she couldn’t easily turn to see him and she begged with him to let her cum, or to fuck her himself; she thought with the mental stimulation of having him do it she might be able to work herself into an orgasm. But he ignored her.
“Just be quiet and deal with it, and see if you can figure out how to orgasm,” Calvin said.
=-=-=-=-=
The next hour and a half of Jennifer’s life was amazing on one hand and pure torture on the other.
The dildo worked like someone just relentlessly fucking her at the same pace, without fail. It didn’t matter if she wanted it faster or slower or at a slightly different angle; the dildo kept fucking. And the harness type setup kept it in place. The total lack of control was incredible.
At the same time the numbness drew things out. Her sensation returned oh so slowly, it inadvertently acted like the most exquisite foreplay ever, combined with her nearly painful frustration at the unrelenting pace of the dildo. Eventually her pleasure began building again, and she would moan out as the sensations rose.
That was when Calvin would decide he was ready for another round.
Just as sensation was fully returning to her pussy and she felt her nerves coming together to form that special combination that would send her over the edge, Calvin would lube up his cock, pull the dildo out, and plunge himself back between her ass cheeks.
The reintroduction of a massive cock to her ass added pain and new nerve explosions to her internal mix. It wasn’t as painful as the first time; he’d reamed her ass out wide enough that it had some more give to it and almost expected the massive rod to return. But the lack of direct pussy stimulation changed the whole feeling for her. Then after he dumped another load in her ass, he’d re-insert the dildo, with a new coating of lube that numbed her right up again.
He put two more deposits in her rear slot before the ninety minutes was up. Jennifer was drenched in sweat, her thighs were soaked in pussy juice, her ass almost gaped open on its own, and the dildo still writhed in her. She tried to suppress her moans, tried not to give any hint that her orgasm approached again, but she was too worn out and tired to control herself completely; her thighs quivered, her hips twitched as if thrusting back at the non-existent partner her body thought was pushing a cock into her pussy. She saw him coming toward her out of the corner of her eye. Her eyes winced as the flash on his phone camera went off. He followed her with spots in her eyes as he snapped two more pictures. Then he pulled the dildo out again. She nearly burst out crying.
“Please,” she begged, “please. Anything. I’ll run the train at school, I’ll fuck the principal on the morning announcements, I’ll let the video club make me the star of a porn shoot, just please let me cum!”
“Cum for me you beautiful bimbo,” Calvin said.
He kissed her, his tongue pushing into her mouth at the same time his fingers slid down and pinched her clit.
She screamed into his mouth and felt splashing as her pussy erupted in a squirting orgasm. Her body convulsed, her muscles all tightening as the pleasure ripped through her. She relaxed for a brief second and then it shot through her again, and another scream went into Calvin’s mouth.
He undid all the restraints in record time. She wrapped her arms around him and then the harness holding the dildo inside her came loose. Her pussy was so wet the dildo dropped out of it with no resistance and what felt like a waterfall of fluid fell out after it. She wrapped her legs around him and felt that he was naked. He picked her up like that as she planted kisses on his neck.
He took her into the bath, already full and warm, and washed her. He massaged her abused ass and gently pushed water at her pussy, letting the liquid movement clean away the remnants of the evening. He used a lot of soap on her face and chest, and spent enough time fondling her breasts with slick, soapy hands that she giggled.
“You had all afternoon to play with them,” she teased, “You could have strapped me down face up and used them as stress balls while you worked.”
“That wouldn’t have fit the scene, would it?” he said, “And besides this glitter is just not coming off.”
“Yeah, speaking of stupid, our tub’s going to look like a Barbie accessory for a while. I mean it fit the look, but I could have told you glitter would be a disaster.”
After the luxurious bath they only put on bathrobes for dinner before settling into the living room and splitting up the papers she had to grade. As they worked, Jennifer told Calvin about her day.
“You know you still could have fucked that kid; you didn’t have to settle for a blowjob,” Calvin said.
Jennifer shrugged. “You taught me too well; you don’t reward someone who can’t assert themselves. Now he has to wait. I’m more frustrated with Kalmus. I have no idea what to do there.”
“I think I have to step in on that one,” Calvin said, “He’s got an old-school sense of honor; he’s not going to believe I’m okay with you stepping out unless he hears it from me. Even better would be me leading him to a room where you’re ready and waiting and handing you over. That’s a thought, actually; when’s that faculty mixer?”
“Three weeks,” Jennifer replied.
“Get your garter belt and demi-bra ready; someone’s going to be a wrapped up present.”
Jennifer leaned over and kissed Calvin deeply. “You’re so good to me. What did I do to deserve you?”
“I believe you invited me into your apartment, bent over, spread your legs and ass cheeks for me, and said ‘I give you all my holes. Please make me your toy, your sex object, your beautiful hotwife from now on.'”
Jennifer felt a little shiver of memory. “You have to admit it was a hell of a proposal,” she said.
“And I haven’t regretted anything since,” Calvin replied.
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