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"That cock-sucking, twat-licking, got-my-panties-in-a-Goddamn-bunch, fucking cunt-whore bitch!"
I looked over at Melvin.
"I can’t fucking believe this shit!"
We were sitting in the very back of a large, stuffy warehouse crowded to the gills with the local S&M and hardcore fetish crowd, at a string of tables covered with every small sex-aid and adult toy imaginable.
Melvin - the large (well, fat, but he’s a friend, so I’ll be generous), balding gentleman ripping out the expletives sat just to my left, reading the newspaper. His little tirade turned some of the latex-masked heads perusing the tables our way.
I laughed at him.
"Jeez, Mel, calm down. You look like you’re going to have a heart attack. "
He slammed the paper onto the table, and jabbed his finger at a picture of a smartly-dressed, plain-Jane, middle-aged woman, arguing with a group protesting outside the steps of the state capital.
The two of us were relaxing at the tables, while on stage, Angela - Melvin’s Mistress/Business Partner/Hermaphrodite Lover/Adopted child - enthusiastically whipped away at Julie, one of my own sex slaves.
Julie was bent over at the waist, locked into a stockade at the edge of the stage and naked except for a featureless, black leather mask covering her face. Angela was wearing her usual uniform of choice, a dark green velvet dress that was practically painted over her tight, curvy figure, with her favorite stiletto-heeled boots laced halfway up her thighs.
As I watched, Angela reared back with the riding crop in her hand and let Julie’s ass have it. Julie’s body jerked forward and the crowd around the stage cheered.
Angela looked like she was having fun. I don’t know about Julie.
Melvin was fuming.
"Whoever voted for that cunt should be taken down to the river and shot. "
The woman in the power suit looked familiar. I looked closer at the article. The headline read: ‘Local Sex Industry Warned!’ And in smaller print: ‘State Rep. Susan Manning Takes the High Road on the Sex Industry’.
"Huh. " I said.
Melvin looked at me.
"Whaddaya mean, ‘huh’?
"I know her. She and her family have shopped at my store for years. " I pulled the paper closer so I could read the rest of the story. "In fact, she hurt her back on a ski trip a few weeks ago, and the last time I saw her at the store, I carried her bags out and helped her get into her car. "
"You’re kidding me. "
"No, seriously. " I thought about it a second.
"You should’a clubbed the bitch and dumped her in the trash. "
The article praised Mrs. Manning for her new bill that was working its way through the state legislature, something some conservative lawmakers were labeling as ‘a call for a new day of decency for our fine state’. She was working to get funding and zoning restrictions for any type of strip club, massage parlor or adult specialty store, pretty much handcuffing (no pun intended) the sex industry here in town.
I could see why Melvin was pissed.
Between the two of them, he and Angela each owned several adult stores (among other things), all of which probably sent the local soccer moms into convulsions whenever they passed by in their minivans and SUVs.
"She’s not that bad, Mel. "
"Not bad my ass. " He paused and re-lit the stub of his cigar. "In fact, if I got my hands on her, I’d fuck her ass until she bled, then throw her into the Maze for the boys to have fun with. " He took a long puff, and blew the smoke out the side of his mouth. "Turn her into the little slut she really is under all that repressed, prude-lawyer shit. "
I laughed again.
"You think I’m kidding? That bitch is the reason we’re sitting here in this dump tonight, instead of at the convention center, like we should be.
Melvin and Angela were part-sponsors of a yearly bondage/fetish merchandise trade show. I vaguely remembered they ran into some problems this year, and couldn’t get the permits they needed to set up at the new convention center. Instead, they had to rent out a series of warehouse spaces in the deep industrial district from sympathetic local businesses.
I nodded at the hundreds of leather and stud clad people roaming the floor.
"Not a bad turnout, though. You’ve got to admit, having the show here has a kind of sleazy appeal. "
He grunted.
"Yeah, the hardcore freaks’ll find us wherever we end up. But it’s those weekend creepies, the ones that take their kids to private school in their new Beamers, then play dress-up at night when their kids are asleep; they’re the one’s that get antsy when they’ve gotta drive into the ghetto. " He chomped thoughtfully on his stogie, puffing away. "Not that the freaks’ money isn’t any good, there’s just a lot more that never makes it to the table if we’re hiding way out here, y’know?"
"So it’s all about the money. "
He shrugged.
"Well, yeah. Losing cash always pisses me off, for sure. But this bitch.
Melvin paused for a breath.
"You voted for her, didn’t you?"
He glared at me, and laughed.
"Fuck you. " He sighed.
"I didn’t know you were politically involved. "
"Matt, anything that potentially affects my income, my livelihood, I want to know about.
"So you admit to being old, then?"
He leaned back.
"I prefer to think that I’m aging gracefully. "
He looked at the paper, almost wistfully.
"That bitch has done everything she can to fuck things up for a lot of people in this business, a lot of folks we know. And worse. " He looked at me again. "You hear about the ‘Homeless’ bill?"
That had been big news last summer, while I was away. After it passed, the police rounded up most of the local street people and homeless families and relocated them, ‘for their welfare and for the continued safety and beautification of our neighborhoods and business districts’.
I nodded.
"She’s a fucking fascist cunt, and if I had the chance, I’d find as many of those bums she had moved out to the sticks and let them hate fuck her until she had to use a fucking wheelchair for the rest of her goddamn life.
I waved my hand at Angela, who was finishing with her demonstration. Julie hung limply in the stockade now, her back and buttocks glowing with angry, red welts.
"Well, why not? You punish people for kicks all the time. "
He shook his head. "Nope. It wouldn’t be enough to just fuck with her. I’d want to teach the bitch a lesson, sure. But. . . " He drifted off, shrugging. "She’s already screwed things up. This stuff she started has a life of its own now. It’s gonna keep on building, no matter what happens to her. "
"Melvin, you know your problem?"
"What’s that, besides the bad case of jock itch I got from reading this shit?"
"You’re too short-sighted.
I brainstormed a little for him, and as I jabbered away, Melvin started to smile.
"Goddamn, Matt!" He clapped me on the shoulder when I finished. "I knew there was a reason I liked you. " He reached for another cigar, shaking his head. "And people say I’m a sick fuck. That’s so twisted, it’s beautiful. "
It took about a week and a half before I saw Susan again.
I was just leaving my store, getting ready to go out for a late lunch, when she pulled up in her new Lexus. I stepped off the sidewalk in front of her car and waited to help her as she got out. She was moving a little gingerly, like her back was still bothering her.
As I told Melvin, I’ve known, or rather, waited on, Susan and her family since I bought the chain of little markets I own, maybe ten years ago now.
Susan and her husband Mike were both lawyers, both in their late 40’s, and wealthy. They had two kids: a tall, willowy teenage girl named Rachel, who was probably a junior or senior in high school, and a son who was a couple years younger.
Mike’s family owned a lot of prime downtown real estate, shipping companies, restaurants and other businesses, along with a fair amount of farmland they were now busy developing in the outlying areas of town. Mike quit his job as a corporate shark a few years ago, shortly after his father passed away and he inherited pretty much everything.
His family was big-time players in local politics too. Money can buy a lot.
The whole family reeked of the snobby attitude that went along with having that kind of money. Susan had been an especially cold fish when I’d first met her, but over the years, she’d gradually warmed up to me, and now she’ll actually stop and converse with me.
One day I realized that I hadn’t seen Susan with Mike for quite a while, and asked her how he was. Susan told me that she and her husband had separated, but quietly, for the sake of their careers, and their kids were living with him in another house across town, partly so they could be closer to school, and because Susan was gone because of work so often.
The news didn’t come as much of a shock to me; I rarely saw the two of them together, even before the separation, and when I did they barely spoke two words to each other. Not a great marriage, but whatever works. Susan had managed to parlay her husbands name into a thriving political career, and if he didn’t seem to mind, well, more power to her.
I held my hand out for her as she opened the car door, and she took it with a smile.
She swung her legs out, and I tried to not stare too openly.
I’ve never seen Susan wear any make-up, and the only times I’ve ever seen her without a suit and skirt, she was usually out for her daily run or she was heading up to the mountain to go skiing in the winter or hiking during the summer. She always wore her straight, dishwater blonde hair cut short around her shoulders, and other than a pair of thin silver hoops in her ears and her wedding ring, she rarely wore any jewelry.
When I first met her, ‘mousy’ was the term that came to mind.
But as plainly as she presented herself, she was in great shape, even well into her 40’s. You had to look twice to notice, but she was short and shapely, with great legs and a nice, round ass and hips that tapered into a tiny, tight waist capped with firm, full breasts.
But I digress.
Always the voyeur, I admired her legs, running my gaze up her muscular calves as I helped her ease out of the car. She moved hips first, and I smiled as her legs spread open, surprising me with a nice crotch shot.
I should possibly note here that she was wearing a pair of black stockings under her light grey skirt. Very nice.
She stood up and smoothed her skirt back down and straightened her suit jacket.
"Thanks. " Susan smiled up at me. Even in heels, the top of her head barely reached my chin.
"Don’t mention it.
She shut the door and locked her car. She shrugged.
"We’re out of session," she explained, "and I’ve got a long weekend, so I was going to stock up on girl-flicks, pizza and ice cream, then lock myself in the house and work on getting fat. "
She patted her stomach. No way was she going to be getting fat anytime soon, and I took the opportunity to flirt a little.
"Fat. Right. "
"You think I’m kidding? I’ve gained so much weight since I hurt my back, it’s not funny. "
"Huh," I said, twirling my finger in a circle. "Let’s see. "
She gave me a strange look.
"Now you’re kidding. "
"Nope," I grinned.
A slow grin spread across her face, and she raised her arms and did a quick little turn for me.
"Well? Everything you hoped for?" she asked.
Hell yes.
"I was gonna go for a bite to eat. . . how about keeping me company?"
Susan’s mouth popped open.
"You’re serious. "
I twirled my car keys.
"Time’s a-waistin’, and there’s a little bistro downtown calling my name. "
This was totally out of left field for her, and I wanted to see how game she might be.
It just took her a second to make up her mind.
"Yeah. Okay, sure.
Gotcha, I thought.
I drove.
The downtown metro area had once been a thriving seaport back in the 1800’s. Most of the current skyscrapers and businesses had been built over the old buildings, or the old architecture had just been reclaimed and refitted for modern use. Rumor has it that a number of secret entryways connected many, if not all of the older buildings to a huge, elaborate network of tunnels running underground that stretched from the wharves and docks back for miles out into the hills and towards the current industrial areas.
Supposedly the tunnels were used for smuggling every sort of contraband under the sun: alcohol, drugs, weapons, and women - you name it - even as recently as the early 1940’s and ‘50’s. Folks new in town, venturing out into the bars and other, less savory establishments for a night of gambling, drink and fun might find themselves drugged and shanghaied, waking up on a ship somewhere at sea. Some of the surviving bars and hotels now boasted of ghosts and hauntings, spirits left over from the wild frontier days.
The tunnels and the entries to them, if really there were any, had been filled in and boarded up by court order back in the late 1950’s. Melvin, while doing some construction in one of his porn shops, had stumbled onto the entries for dozens of the tunnels.
Melvin explored his find a little and found that, for the most part, the tunnels were still in decent shape. So he excavated and turned the tunnels running under his property into a playground for the more adventurous swingers in town.
He calls his deviant little theme park ‘The Maze’.
And, as in the old days, if you decide to venture inside, into the tunnels, looking for whatever twisted sexual thrill you might find, you do it at your own risk.
Or so he says.
It’s a nice little bit of publicity that spread around the underground sex scene like wildfire. Now there’s rarely a night when the sex crowd doesn’t turn out in force, waiting to try their luck down in the Maze.
Here’s the way The Maze works: The tunnels open for business at midnight, and stay open until the early hours of the morning. The customer picks one of about a dozen doors, each leading to a certain type of fantasy scenario. Once you enter into the tunnel system, the heavy steel door shuts behind you and locks automatically, forcing you even deeper into the maze to try to find your way out.
Hopefully.
The tunnels don’t just run in a straight line to an exit door. They twist and turn, doubling back in on themselves or branching out and leading to dead ends, different rooms, and the like. A couple of them wander on for miles. As you hunt for the exits, you have the opportunity to participate in whatever type of illicit scenario you stumble into.
Each tunnel has ‘em, and most have several different variations of a theme. And with some scenarios, well, with some you don’t get a choice in the matter.
Melvin has created some really perversely twisted surprises for anyone who decides to try their luck, and every type of fantasy is catered to.
Plus, every corner of the excavated tunnels are monitored with video cameras, and, legal implications be damned, everybody in the Maze gets filmed and the video is recorded and feeds right into the store proper, playing on big screens for the enjoyment of the customers while they shop or wait to get into the tunnels themselves.
Again, the idea, the supposed risk, is the draw for most of the thrill seekers.
One of my new slaves, Nancy, followed me to the store a few months ago. Not the best decision on her part, maybe. She ended up getting attacked by a horny batch of customers, who chased her into the Maze. They caught her and raped her in a tunnel, until she bit one of them when he tried to force her to suck his cock.
Nancy managed to escape from the rapists, but Melvin and Angela found her just a few minutes later. She spent the next week chained, gagged, and filmed while being raped repeatedly by Angela, Mel and about twenty of their drugged up flunkies.
All in payment for a suit of clothes that Nancy thought I’d like to see her wear.
When they gave Nancy back to me, Angela was kind enough to send her along with a copy of the movie they made, as well as the clothes they put her through hell to get. I spent another week breaking Nancy in for myself, and once in a while, even now, I force her to watch the video while I fuck her in the ass.
You might ask how this all came about, and what any of this has to do with my lunch with Susan.
I’ll try to fill you in as we go along.
We had a small wait at the restaurant. I chose this particular restaurant for a couple different reasons: It was really trendy, and I knew the chef.
Always good to know the staff when you’re trying to impress the snobby date.
And my friend Jeff, the chef, had told me about finding one of the old tunnel entries buried deep in a corner of the basement here. The building the restaurant was in dated back to the roaring heyday of the frontier.
I wanted my own access to the tunnels that ran under the downtown area, and unknowingly, Jeff had given me that access. So I wanted to check out the restaurant a little.
And Susan’s husband owned the property.
The hostess flashed us a perfect, toothy smile when we walked in. I mentioned that Jeff had recommended that I stop by for a snack. Dropping his name was enough for her to whisk us past the early dinner crowd gathered in the bar, and she led us into the restaurant to a booth with a great view of the busy street outside.
A pair of attractive women seated at a table whispered and turned their heads as we passed. They looked familiar, but I couldn’t place them, and I forgot about them as I helped Susan slide into the booth.
The hostess introduced us to our waitress, a tattooed and pierced young blonde, as I slipped into the other side of the booth, facing Susan, my back to the women at the other table. The waitress rattled off the evening specials, and after she took our drink order I snuck a look around.
Jeff and his partner had gutted the space when they moved in, and refurbished it themselves. The space was large and wide open, but the way the booths were organized, each table had - almost - complete privacy.
The waitress returned with a carafe of ice water, a red wine for Susan and an ice tea for me. She poured each of us a glass of water, took our orders and left us alone.
Susan sipped her wine.
"Seems nice," she said. "Have you eaten here before?"
I shook my head.
"No, but I know one of the owners. As far as the food goes, anything he cooks or tells me to try, I’ll eat. " I spread my napkin out on my knee. "How about you?"
"No. I eat out a lot because of work, but I’ve never been here. I guess I’m a guinea pig, then?"
I grinned and squeezed some lemon into my tea.
She was staring at something behind me.
"You’ve caused quite a commotion back there.
"What do you mean?"
"Those women we passed got pretty worked up after they saw you. They haven’t stopped staring at me since we sat down. " She lowered her eyes and whispered, "Here comes one now. "
I thought she was teasing me, until a familiar voice said, "Hi Matt. "
I was married for a few years, and for a few years I had in-laws and a niece and nephew, who I’d managed to completely lose track of.
I looked up to find my old sister-in-law, Laura, smiling at me.
"Hi. " I said.
After my divorce, I lost all contact with Laura and her husband, Ken. In fact, the last time I saw Laura, she’d fallen asleep on a couch after making a drunken pass at me during her housewarming party.
Ken was upwardly-mobile and Laura was obsessed with appearances, so seeing her here shouldn’t have surprised me at all. It didn’t really. This was the perfect spot for her to hang out. In fact, now that I thought about it, I recognized the other two women at the table with her from the night of that party.
"Katie said it was you!"
Laura held out her arms to me, and I stood up and gave her a hug.
It felt fantastic.
I remembered her smell from before, like the faint smell of flowers in a spring breeze, and I remembered the feel of her body against mine from few minutes we spent on the couch together at the party.
Laura and I had flirted on and off since we’d met, when she was engaged to Ken and I’d first started dating my ex-wife Jennifer. It seemed pretty innocent stuff, then, and over time Laura had slowly molded herself from a frumpy, chubby young woman into a hip, rather sexy yuppie.
We’d both gone through some changes over the years.
Reluctantly, I pushed away and had a look at her. She looked older than I remembered. She’d always been full-figured, with a tiny waist, and she’d put on a little weight. The extra weight looked good on her, rounding out her hips and filling out her breasts. She’d changed her hairstyle, too, from the short ponytail she used to wear. Now her ash-blonde hair was clipped short, close to her head in the back and around the sides, but she’d left her bangs long. She wore a beret shaped like a small rose in her hair that pulled her bangs so they hung down around her cheeks. She was wearing a pair of tan Capri pants and tennis shoes, with a black sweater over a white t-shirt.
I wondered how I could have forgotten about her.
She was looking me up and down, too.
"Wow. Matt, you look great. " She had a curious look on her face. "You look. . . bigger. "
I cleared my throat.
"Personal trainer. "
"Really?"
I grinned. "No. Really, just good, clean living. "
Her mouth made a little ‘O’ as she took that in. I managed to disengage myself and introduced my date.
"Laura this is Susan. Susan, this is Laura. "
The two women glared at each other over gritted teeth. I sat back down and wondered if there was going to be a cat fight.
Laura turned back to me and left Susan grimacing into her drink.
"You look wonderful too," I said. "It’s been a long time. "
We made small talk for few minutes, the way old acquaintances do, while Susan watched us quietly.
"You should call sometime, Matt," she said. "I’m sure Ken would like to get together for dinner, or. . . "
I grinned. I liked Ken, but hanging out with him now that I was on shitty terms with his sister didn’t really appeal to me.
"I dunno, Laura.
Then she got excited and snapped her fingers.
"Hey! How would you like to go to the art festival with me, like we used to talk about?"
That was something else I’d forgotten about.
Laura and Ken had gone through a phase where they decided to collect ‘art’, and were enamored of this particular local painter. During a short period of flirtation, Laura had asked me to go with her to this weekend long festival.
I was never sure of Laura’s motives when she invited me, but mine sure weren’t pure when I agreed to go. And Ken and Jennifer didn’t seem to be aware of any issues regarding the two of us shacked up in a hotel alone for a weekend.
Unfortunately, it never happened.
"There’s one coming up in a few weeks, and I was going to go by myself, ‘cause Ken’s going to be out of town. " She rummaged around in her purse and found a pen.
"Here, let me give you my cell number. "
She scribbled a phone number on a napkin and handed it to me.
I glanced at it.
She looked a little uncomfortable.
"We moved again, out to Westlake, and Ken wanted to get rid of our land lines when we bought the new house. "
I caught Susan’s expression out of the corner of my eye. Ken was a big-time computer geek, and his firm was under contract with a bunch of the large, better-known companies in town. I knew he was earning some serious money, but they must be doing better than I thought to afford a place in Westlake.
Even Susan, whose husbands’ net-worth was easily in the umpteen-millions, raised her eyebrows.
"So this is the best way to get a hold of you?" I asked.
"Right. "
Laura looked over at her friends, who were arguing over their bill. She leaned over, and her scent wafted past me again as she kissed me on the cheek.
"I should probably go. " She slung her bag over her shoulder. "Call me if you want to come along?"
I nodded.
She spared a glance at Susan as she left the table.
"Nice to meet you. Hope you have a nice dinner. "
Susan gave her a little, tight smile as Laura walked off.
"She seems. . . nice. How, um, do you know her?"
I grinned. A little jealousy right off the bat. That was a good sign.
We spent most of the meal talking about my minute-long marriage, and Susan slowly unwound after a few glasses of wine. Eventually the conversation wound its way back to her marriage and her kids. I asked her why she was spending the weekend alone, without her kids. She told me that they already made plans with their dad to go up to the mountain and spend the weekend camping.
Midway through the main course, she excused herself to use the ladies room.
I pulled out my cell phone and watched her butt swish as she walked back to the restrooms.
Melvin answered after the second ring. I told him where I was, and who I was with, and he chuckled in disbelief.
"Don’t fuck with me Matt. "
I grinned at Susan’s ass as she slipped into the restroom.
"Never, Mel. She just went to the ladies room, so I need to make this quick. Remember what we talked about at the convention?"
"Of course I do. "
"This is the perfect opportunity to start. "
"You’re shitting me. " I heard him puff on one of his ever-present cigars. "You’re serious, huh. "
"Like a heart attack. But we don’t have a lot of time, Mel.
He was quiet for a heartbeat, and then, "What do we need to do?"
I outlined my plan and gave him some quick instructions. When I finished, he chuckled again, and it was an unpleasant sound.
"You want Angela in on this?"
"No, not now. " I’d considered it, but this wasn’t quite her thing.
"We’re gonna need some muscle. "
"Yeah, I know. My man Roscoe is back in town. We’ll use him. "
I could picture Melvin rolling his eyes. "Do I know him?"
"No, but he likes hurting people. You’ll like him. "
"All right. I’ll get everything moving. You need anything else?"
"Nope.
He whistled. In addition to his other interests, Melvin also dabbled in some designer drugs. I didn’t need to use them to get what I wanted from Susan tonight, but Melvin had been itching for a situation to try them out.
"Damn. I love you like a son, Matt. You know that, dont’cha? After this, we should get together with Angela and celebrate. "
I grimaced. It was another story, but Angela had been trying to bed me since Melvin introduced us. And as twisted as my sexual appetites had become, the last thing I wanted was Angela’s dick in my ass.
Or mine in hers, for that matter.
"Mel, you call me if you need me. I’m going to keep Susan busy tonight, but I’ll be by in the morning. "
I told him how to get in touch with Roscoe, and we hung up.
Susan was still in the restroom, so I had still had a little time.
I wiped my spoon clean as Susan walked back to the table. She wobbled a bit as she sat back down.
"You okay?" I asked.
She smiled sheepishly. "I’ve been on pain medication since I hurt my back, and I haven’t really had anything to drink for a while. " She reached for her water, took a sip. "I’m just a little woozy. "
"Maybe we should get a little fresh air," I suggested, "or would you like some dessert to go with that water?"
Susan took another sip and smiled. "I never got my ice cream. "
I signaled for our waitress.
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By the time we finished dessert, she was flushed and breathing rapidly. And after I assured her there was twenty-four hour security at the mall, she agreed with me that it might be a better idea if I drove her home tonight, and she could pick up her car at the store tomorrow.
I drove her home and Susan leaned on me as I walked her to her door.
She had some trouble finding her keys, and I helped her open her front door when she couldn’t get the key in the lock.
I wished her a good-night with a kiss on the cheek, and she threw her arms around my neck, pressing herself against me.
Looked like Mel’s little concoction was working just fine.
I enjoyed the kiss, sucking on her little wet tongue as it poked into my mouth. She panted as she kissed me, with quick, hot bursts, and I could taste the wine on her breath. She played with my hair, and I nuzzled her neck and kissed her ear, then pushed her away.
Susan grabbed for me, but I held her by her shoulders, looked into her half-shut eyes and said, "Susan, are you sure you want to do this?"
She tried to focus, blinking rapidly, then grabbed me by the wrist and pulled me into the house.
We made it into her living room, and she tripped and fell on the floor. I shut and locked the door, and turned to find her down on her knees and elbows, her ass up in the air and her head rolling, panting like a dog. I placed my foot on her ass, and her face mashed into her carpet.
I grinned as she moaned, her butt wriggling in the air. She was conscious, but just barely.
There’s something about a woman’s ass poking up at me that just blows me away, and I’d wanted to fuck this one for a long time now.
Melvin once told me that he never understood why men just didn’t pay for a night with a prostitute instead of dating women. His reasoning was that the price of an evening with a pro was usually about the same as an evening out with some regular bitch, and with a hooker, you always knew you’d be getting some at the end of the date.
I figured that tonight I’d spent enough on dinner to justify fucking Susan.
So I pulled off my shirt, kicked off my shoes and dropped my pants, just about that fast. I dropped to my knees behind Susan and unzipped her skirt, slipping it down over her hips until it bunched around her knees, and ran my hand up the inside of her thigh, cupping her crotch.
She moaned, and her butt jerked up a little higher, pushing her pussy against my hand. A dark, wet patch stained her stockings, and I ripped them open, splitting them up her ass, then grabbed her black panties and ripped them apart too.
I pulled her bare ass closer, and leaned over and shoved my tongue into her pussy, making Susan groan again and shove her ass against my face.
I really hate going down on women, on general principle, but I had fun eating Susan out. By the time I pulled my dick out of my underwear, it was screaming at me to fuck her and she was soaking wet.
I straddled her, my legs outside hers, and pushed the tip of my dick into her pussy. It clamped down on me, and I bent over her back and grabbed her tits through her blouse.
Then I shoved my dick into her as hard as I could.
Susan’s head snapped up and she let out a wail as about six or seven inches, maybe half my cock, pounded into her cunt. I squeezed her tits tighter and held on as her entire body bucked and lurched underneath me.
"OhhhhGoddd. . .
I pushed harder, slowly, until my belly slapped against her butt, and started ramming my hips against her ass as hard and fast as I could, shoving my cock into her until I came, blowing a load of cum into her so hard it oozed out of her pussy and down her legs.
I rolled her over, my dick still stiff and throbbing, wedged deep in her twat, and I ripped her blouse open down to her navel.
She was wearing a black satin bra that matched her panties.
"Ohhh. . . "
Her eyes rolled in her head and she drooled down her cheek as I leaned over and pulled the cups of her bra under her breasts. Her tits were amazingly firm; big and juicy, with hard, little brown nipples that stood at attention as I played with them.
"My, my, Susan, what nice titties you have," I chuckled as I ran my hands over her tight belly.
She was in fantastic shape. I could see the smooth muscles in her stomach twitch as I started to slowly fuck her,
Well, well, well, I thought. Look at Mrs. Snooty-Ass, Mrs.
She clutched at me with her hands, and I let her pull me down on top of her. I felt the warm flesh of her breasts press flat against my chest and the silk of her stockings as her legs wrapped around my back.
"Fuck me, fuck. . . me. . . " she panted.
I pressed my lips on her open mouth. This was going to be a lovely evening.
Susan woke up with a screaming headache.
"Oh, God. "
She groaned, threw off the covers and leaned over the side of her bed with her head nestled in her hands, willing the room to stop spinning.
That’s what you get for mixing pain-killer and wine, she thought.
Susan managed to stand up, and shuffled carefully into the bathroom, rubbing her swollen, tender eyes. Susan turned on the faucet and splashed cold water on her face, then grabbed a towel and looked up at herself in the mirror.
"Oh, God," she said again, and her mouth opened in horror, the towel frozen halfway to her face.
She was naked, with bruises that looked like fingers criss-crossing her breasts, her wrists and her ass. Her neck and shoulders were a mass of angry red hickies and bite marks, and more bite marks covered her nipples.
Susan desperately tried to remember what happened last night, but after dinner, only little bits and pieces came back to her.
She remembered feeling a little light headed because of the wine, and going to the restroom to try and clear her head. The walk seemed to help, but then during dessert she started feeling giddy again. And she remembered Matt suggesting that he drive her home. She’d agreed after he had to help her out of the restaurant and back to his car. And then Matt walking her to her porch, and kissing her cheek. . .
"Oh my God!" Her hand flew up to her mouth.
More bits came flooding back as her head slowly stopped swimming.
Susan remembered feeling incredibly horny during their drive home, and wondering if Matt knew. Remembered wondering what he’d do if she just leaned over and gave him head, like she used to do for Mike, back when they started dating. She remembered losing control and pulling him into her house, and, and. . .
"Oh my God!"
Just fragments now. Matt pulling at her clothes, lying on her, his hands moving over her, his mouth on her body. She remembered her first orgasm, the first orgasm she’d had with a man in years, Remembered Matt’s penis ripping into her. . .
"GgggnnnnOOOOhhh!"
Suddenly her legs quivered and the room spun around her, and Susan almost fell over as a wave of pain and lust ripped through her. She grabbed the counter until the room stopped spinning.
"I can’t believe you let him fuck you," she told herself in the mirror.
Susan shook her head at her own stupidity.
For a second, she wondered if he’d drugged her, and then shook her head again. She’d been with him the entire meal, until she’d gone into the bathroom. She was already pretty drunk by that point, and she’d managed to do that all on her own.
She looked at her body again in the mirror. "Looks like he enjoyed himself," she muttered.
Susan patted her face dry with the towel and dropped it on the counter, then shuffled bow-legged back into the bedroom. She figured Matt left after he was finished, but noticed that the other side of the bed looked slept in. She looked around and found a trail of her clothes leading back into the living room, and followed them down the hall, picking them up as she went, wondering how she made it to bed.
She knew she’d been fucked hard - her pussy ached and her legs were sore - but even with the pain in her crotch, she still felt a little horny. She wondered what Matt looked like this morning. She found herself hoping that he was walking around as tenderly as she was, and grinned.
In the living room, she found her shoes and an open bottle of wine on ice with a card.
"Matt?" Susan looked around, wondering if he was still here.
When he didn’t answer, she dropped her armload of wrinkled clothes on the couch, opened the card, and read to herself:
‘Sorry I couldn’t stay, but you looked like you were going to sleep in and there were a few things I needed to take care of this afternoon. I thought you might be a little hungry when you woke up, so I left some ice cream in the fridge, and there’s pizza to go with the wine.
A wonderfully warm little tingle washed through her as she read the letter, settling in her crotch.
Susan realized she was holding her breath and let it out with a whoosh. She tapped the card thoughtfully, and a little smile snuck across her face.
Damn him, she thought, unable to wipe the silly grin off her face. The last thing I need right now is to have an affair.
Lately, her career was glowing. In another four years, with her record and recent accomplishments - plus the help of Mike’s family name - she might have a realistic shot at Washington. She sighed, exasperated with herself. She and Mike had been so careful when they finally decided to split up and live alone - appearances were everything in their businesses. That was one of the few things they’d ever agreed on, and now Susan felt absolutely stupid to have been seen in public with Matt.
Inwardly, she kicked herself again. Who knew if anyone got any pictures of them together, or what kind of gossip might be circulating.
She couldn’t get involved with a scandal. Not now, not with the decency bill still bouncing around, waiting for the voters. News of this would kill the bill and make her a laughing stock in her firm, in politics, even her social circles.
What the hell got into her, kissing him out on her porch, for all the neighbors to see? And drunk, too? God, just how dumb could she be?
Memory of the hickies and bruises covering her body popped back into her mind, and Susan groaned. How was she going to hide those? It was almost summertime; she couldn’t just pull a turtleneck over them.
She dropped the card and poured herself a glass of wine. She sipped at it while she pondered damage control.
How bad was this really?
Susan knew several of her female colleagues in both law and politics who kept lovers. But they were typically college students who were happy getting laid once or twice a week in return for a decent apartment, not grown men with a life of their own.
Susan wondered if Matt would settle for just a one-night stand.
Not that Matt wasn’t attractive. She’d always thought he was kind of cute, and he’d always been a flirt, even when she was still married. But if anyone found out that she was sleeping with some regular guy with no money, no aspirations. . .
Well, that wouldn’t do.
She curled up naked on the couch with her glass and tried to think things out. The wine was making her warm, and she felt an odd tingling spreading through her. It made her smile, and she rubbed her belly, enjoying the sensation.
A brief memory, just a flash from last night flitted through her mind, of Matt, lying on top of her, his penis buried in her, gently stroking her stomach.
Susan almost spilled her wine as a wave of horniness flooded through her. She closed her eyes and remembered what she could of him last night, touching her.
She smiled at herself, and her thinking made a complete about-face.
"You got laid," she said out loud. "You got laid, you seduced him and brought him home and you got laid. "
Susan shook her head, that crazy little smile stealing back over her face. She suddenly felt almost proud of herself for getting a little out of control.
Matt was the first man she’d slept with since her separation. Even when she and Mike were living together the last few years, they never shared the same bed. And now she was always so damned busy with either work or dealing with her kids, she didn’t have a social life outside of the business dinners or political functions.
Susan sipped her wine, pondering that thought.
Maybe it wouldn’t be a bad thing to let him come over tonight, if she were careful. They could stay in for the evening and watch movies, or she could cook him dinner, and…
She grinned again, blushing, as a wild thought hit her out of nowhere. Susan felt her pussy get wet.
"Maybe I’ll seduce him while we’re eating. " She set her glass on the table, licked her lips and closed her eyes, fantasizing. "I’ll sit on his lap and feed him dessert with my fingers, and. . . "
Susan touched herself and her eyes fluttered closed as a warm, wet flood gushed over her hand. She squirted all over her legs and the couch as she climaxed.
"Oh sh-shit. . . "
She’d never done that before.
Susan kept rubbing her clit until her hips jerked and her orgasm subsided. She jumped up as her cum dripped down the inside of her legs and soaked the couch. She shook the moisture from her hand.
Oh God, I’m horny, she thought. And look at me. Here I am, trying to get smut banned from the state, and suddenly I’m masturbating over some guy who had sex with me while I was drunk enough to pass out.
Her stomach growled as she wiped at the wet beads running down her thighs.
She stepped towards the kitchen to hunt down that pizza, and thought again of Matt naked, here in her house with her.
Yeah, she thought. Okay.
Maybe she could him around for a little while longer.
If she was careful.
Susan ate lunch, thinking how sweet Matt had been to bring her food, trying to ignore the hot tingling in her pussy.
Afterwards, she was still horny, enough to need a cold shower to try to cool off. It seemed to help. A little.
After her shower Susan slipped on a silk bathrobe and tried to watch television, snacking on the ice cream and sipping at the wine, but she kept fantasizing about what she wanted to do to Matt later, and she couldn’t seem to pay any attention.
She turned off the television, sighing.
He owed her for last night, she figured.
Susan took a bite of the ice cream and wondered if he’d lick her pussy if she put some down there for him to enjoy.
"Here’s your dessert, Matt," Susan said out loud with a giggle, and she shivered with pleasure as she used her finger to smear a glob of ice cream over her pussy. She spread her legs and rubbed it in. The ice cream was cold and sticky. She dabbed another finger-full onto her crotch, and her nipples popped up.
"Oh. Would you like some there, too?" She asked the empty room.
"Well, come and get it," she giggled to herself, and spread her legs.
I’m going to need another shower after this, she thought, and closed her eyes.
By the time eight o’clock rolled around, Susan had finished off half the pizza, most of the ice cream and all the wine.
Three more cold showers later, and she was so horny she could barely sit still.
Around four o’clock, Susan had a sexual epiphany, and she hunted through boxes in her closet until she found an old vibrator someone had given her as a joke back in college. She managed to find some batteries that still worked in a junk drawer, and she spent the next several hours naked and spread-eagled on her bed, masturbating.
Where the hell is he? She thought, desperately jabbing the dildo into her soaking wet pussy. The dildo was slippery in her hand and the bedding underneath her was saturated with her pussy juice.
It seemed like the more she came, the more she needed to fuck.
This isn’t helping at all, she thought.
Somehow she knew she needed to fuck Matt.
When Susan finally heard the doorbell ring, she was in the middle of a rip-roaring orgasm. She was coming so hard and moaning so loudly that she missed the bell on the first ring, and she had to literally sit on the hand holding the dildo, breathlessly forcing herself to listen for the bell to ring again.
Nothing.
Susan almost wept out of sheer frustration. Her crotch was burning like it was on fire, and the only thing she wanted was. . .
Wait. There it was again.
Susan bolted out of bed and ran to her front door. She pulled it open and stood there, naked and panting. Matt stood just outside, his finger halfway back to the ringer with a look of complete surprise.
"Hi," he grinned at her, and Susan launched herself out the door, jumping on him, wrapping her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist, kissing him wildly. She felt her pussy rub against his shirt and she groaned, her need for him welling back up like a hunger.
Fuck the neighbors, she thought. She was so horny now she would’ve fucked him right here on the steps, in plain view of God and the world.
"Oh God, finally. .
Susan rained kisses on Matt as he carried her awkwardly inside and kicked the door shut. He tried to set her down but she slid to the floor and fumbled with his belt, trying to get it unbuckled.
"Hey!" Matt caught her wrists, and she shoved her face against his crotch until he pushed her roughly away.
"Oh please, Matt, please, I can’t wait. Please let me fuck you," she begged breathlessly, straining to get her hands on him.
Matt grinned at her flushed face, her disheveled hair. But he tightened his grip and pushed her back onto the floor, and sat on her chest.
Then he noticed the smell.
"Lordy, Sue, you smell like a rotting clam. "
Susan moaned as her body took his weight, and she wiggled underneath him. Her hands groped at him until he pinned her arms under his knees.
He cupped her face, forcing her to look away from his crotch. "Looks like you’ve been having some, uh, fun while I was gone. "
"Fuck me, fuck me, oh please, oh please," she gasped.
"Persistent little twat. I can see why you’re such a good politician. " He patted her face.
She squirmed.
"Please Matt; I need you. . . right now, I. . . "
He shook her head with his hands, making her cheeks wiggle.
"You know, Sue, I won’t turn you down, but I’m going to make you a deal. You want to hear it?"
Susan tried to calm down. "O-okay.
"Okay. Here’s the deal. " Matt gently played with her hair as he spoke. "We’re going to take this slow tonight, okay?"
She nodded.
"Good. First, since you’re so God-awful horny, I’ll let you give me a little blow job. How does that sound?"
Susan began panting uncontrollably, and a giddy smile lit up her face.
"Looks like that’s a yes. Cool. "
Matt unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his jeans as he spoke.
"If you can make me come, we’ll get you cleaned up and dressed so you look cute, and then we’ll go to a movie like I promised. " He grabbed her by the hair with his free hand, pulling her head towards him. "I’ll give you a bath and dress you myself. " Susan moaned and almost came at the thought. "Then after the movie, I promise you’ll get all the sex you can handle.
Susan managed to nod again, licking her lips.
"Good girl. "
He used his free hand to yank his pants down under his crotch and his dick plopped out onto Susan’s upturned face and slid off one side.
He was huge, bigger than she’d imagined, more than twice the size of the dildo she’d been jacking off with earlier. She looked at his cock with a mixture of lust and fear, wondering how she was able to take him last night, finally realizing why her pussy was so sore.
I must’ve been really drunk, she thought.
He grabbed his dick and plopped it back onto her face. It was hot and sweaty, and Susan licked him with the little pink tip of her tongue, making his cock twitch.
She grinned up at him and began slowly running her tongue up and down the bottom of his dick, watching it grow, until it hovered, pulsing, just above her face. He was so big; she wondered how he didn’t get dizzy and pass out from blood loss to his head.
Matt lifted his ass off her chest, his knees and all of his weight pressing hard into her upper arms.
Susan sucked in air as pain bolted up her arms.
"Oww. . .
His dick slid down her face and Matt pushed the swollen, purple head into her mouth, cutting off her air with a gurgle.
Her eyes bulged with pain and shock, and she kicked and thrashed under him, but he grabbed her wrists and pinned her arms completely to the floor, shoving his dick deeper into her mouth. Susan heard her jaws crack as Matt used his hips to fuck her face, pushing harder with each thrust, forcing his cock into throat.
He never pulled out, just kept fucking her deeper and deeper. Susan gagged and vomited around his cock, spewing burning bile out from her nose, and she saw spots as her vision slowly turned red and hazy. She knew she was going to pass out from lack of oxygen, and could feel her body getting weaker and weaker. She didn’t have the energy to fight him anymore, and her legs stopped kicking and just flopped to the floor, twitching.
She barely noticed when he was fully buried in her mouth, when his heavy balls smacked her chin and he started to viciously pump in and out of her mouth, pounding her head against the floor.
Susan listened to the smacking sound as his balls whacked her face, and she slowly faded away.
Suddenly, Matt jerked once and groaned. He squeezed her wrists painfully tight as he shot his load, filling her throat with hot, salty cum. He jerked again, spurting more of the sticky fluid into her, and then he slowly pulled out.
Tears of shame and fear and lust ran down the sides of her face as Susan choked and coughed the vomit and cum out of her nose and throat.
"Whooo-boy!"
Matt patted her face and sat back on her stomach, stroking himself and rubbing his thick, wet cock on her tits. Another little twitch sent another spurt of hot cum into the air and over her shoulder, and he sighed happily.
He’d almost killed her, but she’d never felt so fucking horny. Still gasping for breath, she started licking him clean.
"That’s my girl," he smiled down at her and pinched her nipples.
When she’d cleaned him to her satisfaction, she wiped the spooge off her face and grinned up at him.
"Did I do a good job?"
He stood up and she grabbed for him. Pins and needles exploded in her numb arms as the blood began to circulate again.
"A very good job. "
Matt bent over, picked her up and tossed her over his shoulder, making her giggle again.
"All right. Let’s go pick out some clothes. "
As he carried her into the bedroom, patting her bare ass, Susan wondered just what the hell was happening to her.
The bedroom smelled musky, of sex.
Matt took a look at the vibrator lying on the bed and the big, wet bed-stain and grinned.
"Nice dildo, Sue.
She grimaced, embarrassed.
"I wouldn’t have needed it if you’d stayed with me today. "
Matt carried Susan into the bathroom, propped her up in the shower and turned on the water. He stepped out of his clothes, and then slipped into the shower with her, taking her into his arms.
She melted into him, trying to kiss him, but he turned his head away.
"Uh-uh. Not until you’ve brushed your teeth, kiddo. Your breath smells awful. "
Her hands flew to her mouth, remembering the vomit.
What the hell did he expect after that, minty fresh?
He grabbed her by the shoulders and spun her around, holding her tight, and kissed her neck.
Susan felt his dick slide up the inside of her leg, and she pushed her ass against him, bending over, reaching for him between her legs. She gripped his cock, marveling at how big he was, and guided him to her pussy.
This is what she’d been waiting for all fucking day.
She spread her legs wide and braced her hands on the tile wall of the shower, arching her back to give him better access to her body.
"Oh God!"
Susan pushed her ass against him, urging him on. It hurt, but her pussy was so relaxed from her day of masturbating that he slid right in. She felt him cup her breasts and pull her closer to him.
He kissed her cheek and whispered into her ear:
"Whose little bitch are you, Sue? Are you my little bitch?"
She managed to lick her lips and nod as she ground her ass against his crotch.
"I want you to say it, Sue. I want to hear you say it. "
Susan touched his face, ran her hand through his wet hair as she shower poured down on them. She tipped her head as he nuzzled the soft flesh of her neck.
She licked her lips again.
"I’m yours Matt. "
"All mine?"
She nodded blissfully.
"All yours. I’m. .
Her orgasm flooded over her, and she felt her own hot juice running down her legs as Matt, her man, slowly, gently fucked her from behind.
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Afterwards, they toweled each other dry, and he let her brush his hair. Susan liked the way he looked naked. He was tall and his body was tan and rugged and hard, with a light dusting of hair around his groin and chest, on his arms and legs.
Susan mentally compared him with her husband, and suddenly decided she had no idea why she’d ever been attracted to Mike. He was just never her type, except for maybe his intellect. Physically, Matt was so much bigger than Mike - in every way. Even now, soft and flaccid, his cock was massive. She ran her finger the length of him and cupped his balls. They were soft and heavy in her hand. She thought carrying that load around must be uncomfortable.
Susan jumped a little as his cock throbbed, then grinned at him.
"What do you do when you get horny?"
He looked at her with a goofy smile.
"You mean like a few minutes ago?"
She blushed.
"No, no, I mean, when you’re dressed. How do you. . . you know. . . carry it?"
"Oh. . . " He nodded. "It likes to ride straight up, but it pretty much does whatever it wants to do, and pokes wherever it wants to poke. "
"Don’t you.
He grinned. "Over my dick? Not a bit. "
Mike did the same thing. "
Matt grinned again. Sometimes he wondered that himself.
"Maybe it is. "
"Does it make you do stuff?"
Matt blinked at her, and took the hairbrush from her.
"Like what?"
She shrugged and reached for her toothbrush.
"I don’t know. Like. . . like.
He grinned again, giving her an odd look.
"Wow. What a vocabulary. When did Miss Little Goodie-Goodie start swearing?"
Susan thought about that as she squirted some toothpaste onto the brush and ran it under the faucet.
"Apparently about a day ago, right after we had lunch together. "
"Huh. And it’s all my fault, I take it?"
She grinned and pressed her ass into him again.
Matt quietly brushed her hair while she scrubbed her teeth. She enjoyed the feel of his cock pressed against her, suddenly feeling a little horny again.
He set the brush on the counter as she rinsed her mouth and turned back to him, smiling.
"There. " She showed him her teeth, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Better?"
He picked her up and kissed her, and she closed her eyes as he cupped her ass and sat her down on the counter.
"Better," he agreed.
Susan felt something poking against her crotch, and looked down to see his dick, hard and throbbing again, pushing into her.
"I thought we needed to go," she whispered.
"It’s okay, everybody can wait for us.
Everybody, who? She wondered.
He kissed her, and she wrapped her legs around his ass, pulling him to her.
"Just one more for the road. "
Her body twitched as he entered her, and she knocked her toothbrush clattering into the sink.
"Okay. Just. . .
Unbelievable, Susan thought. I’m still. . . horny.
Her pussy was burning up, and little beads of moisture still dripped down her le.
