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Teaching her a lesson 128
My hand fumbled around beside my chair for where I'd dropped my briefcase when I'd come home. The question was in her eyes, but she didn't ask it. She sucked, because I'd told her to suck, because my approval was contingent on her sucking, because her sense of self-worth was contingent on my approval. I entered the combination and retrieved the necessary implement, a black dry erase marker. Tabitha didn't like that; it was clear from her eyes alone. She didn't slow, though. Not when I took the cap off. Not when I held her head still with my left hand. Not when I put the marker to her forehead with my right. Not when I whipped out my phone. "Say cheese, Tabitha." "Heeeeev," she replied, her lips curling upward at the corners in a vain effort to smile around the cock lodged in her mouth. I snapped a picture. It took three tries, but I finally got one that wasn't blurry. Once satisfied, I turned the phone around and showed her. Her eyes widened as she took in the sight of her face im
Teaching her a lesson 129
As a dedicated pupil, Tabitha preferred empirical results, however, monitoring my reactions like a hawk with a mouse. Every sexual interaction was followed by a review process that even involved her taking some notes on her phone. She let me look over her list before she went home. It included things like: talk like slut lap = 4 flirt, not hang out eye contact!! float tit job 2 mom, ham up insecurity don't touch nipples :( swallow then back off → sensitive after comes! likes dramatic orgasm (no prob) what R his tastes? → fashion show? (underwear?) DON'T MENTION JUSTIN That last one was aptly capitalized. I did receive a text from Taylor early Saturday afternoon.What, not even gonna bitch and moan? No, I answered. lol the fucking silent treatment are you kidding me??? 1st time in your life you didn't look for an excuse to lecture me Half an hour later cameoh come on don't pout, but I didn't respond and that was as far as it went. A few hours later, it was time for Tabit
Teaching her a lesson 130
As for what it meant about me... there was nothing to it. I'd thought it was one of my girls; I'd enjoyed it because I'd thought it was one of my girls; I'd come because, whether or not I was loathe to admit it, he'd done a good job impersonating my girls. My hetero cred was certainly not in doubt (considering how many gorgeous women I was sleeping with), nor should it matter even if it were. I'd gotten the homophobia I'd learned in grade school out of my system before finishing high school; that I'd reacted as I had didn't make me a bigot. It was how any person would react to finding they'd been duped into that sort of act with a person they didn't want to do it with; the shock to my hetero sensibilities had been real, but had passed. Period end. It was remarkable how hollow the thoughtcoming in another guy's mouth doesn't make you gay sounded, I reflected as I parked my car in Isa and Candy's driveway. Well, whatever. As with so many interactions with Taylor and Justin, I'd simply
Teaching her a lesson 131
After taking the afternoon to ponder it in between reconciling myself to the events of yesterday, I still didn't have any solid guesses. Like her sister, Abbie Stern was something of an evil Paul Bunyan by reputation, larger than life and prone to axing things. That reputation was almost all I'd known of her before a few weeks ago, and getting to know someone in the midst of rewriting their personality only made it all the trickier. Her decision with Justin I thought I understood. Petty revenge, a simple motive born out of spite. Tabitha, perhaps. Maybe I really had named her as a fantasy of mine, and/or they'd decided to have some fun with the uptight honors student. Before that, she'd used it on Taylor, which I could see as wanting to gain the upper hand against her bratty big sister along with a dash of overreacting to the prospect of our secret escaping. Still, there was probably enough left in that canister for at least half a dozen doses. More, maybe, if she came up with someth
Teaching her a lesson 132
The treats were etched into her skin in impressive detail. A lollipop, several wrapped hard candies with a faint pink tint, a cupcake with sprinkles, a few candy corns, and spattered throughout a collection of sweetheart candies. I leaned in close to read them, the heat from her visibly moistened snatch radiating on my face. KISS ME, U R MINE, PRETTY GIRL, LOVE ME?, SAY YES, and a dozen or more others. "What was it like, getting all this done?" I asked, rubbing my fingers over it. Indeed, her skin was still raised a bit from the process. It was still quite fresh. "What do you think it was like? Isa had to help me do a home bikini wax, which was no picnic to begin with, but then I had to go to four places before I found a woman who was even willing to do it. Most awkward phone calls of my life bar none. Wound up settling for some super shady looking place off the interstate. Then, after I was satisfied this woman could do it justice, I had to let this stranger see me down there for h
Teaching her a lesson 133
I steered my middle finger to where I suspected her clit was - hard to tell through the panties - and pressed in, rubbing in slow circles once I was sure I had it. Swollen as it was, it wasn't hard to pinpoint by touch. "Tell me, Isa. Tell me you want me to fuck whoever I want." "Th-they're your students!" she protested with an inadvertent gasp. "They are. But it's what I want. Tell me you want me to have what I want. Want me to have what I want." I'd spent enough time around pussies in the past few weeks to recognize an approaching orgasm. Right as she took that ragged, shuddering breath, I froze. Her eyes shot open, looking at me pleadingly. "Why did you stop?" "Tell me. Tell me, and I might keep stroking you." The back and forth between wrath and despair was disconcerting in the extreme, while somehow simultaneously being wildly sexy. Candy watched, fingering her own pussy unrestricted and uninhibited, as I toyed with her lover. "It's... it's wrong, Canon," she whimpered. "T
Teaching her a lesson 134
Isa came around to the other side of the bed - hers, I'd deduced, having noticed her gun safe beneath the nightstand - and knelt opposite her girlfriend. "Is she doing a good job, master? I told her she had to do a good job." I'd had my hands folded behind my head - a placement I'd learned long ago to help me from irritating ex-girlfriends and dates who'd been kind enough to do as Candy was doing now. Presently, I lended one the freedom to wrap itself around Isa's hips, squeezing a pleasing handful of her plump, athletic booty. "She's doing all right." Without warning, Isa's arm lanced out and smacked Candy's tightly rounded ass. The crack echoed around the room. "I told you to do a good job pleasuring master, baby. Not 'all right.' Good. Now do a good job." Candy's squeaked in alarm, and maybe pain, but her mouth never left my cock. Sure enough, the slap produced results. There was passion in her lips now, redoubled effort. Her tongue went to work, and she stroked the lower portio
Teaching her a lesson 135
The first thing I did that rainy Sunday morning was to head out to the strip mall and buy myself another new phone. In hindsight, I could have simply asked Megan to use the burner phone she'd used to blackmail me, but in the meantime the folks at Sprint got to fleece me all over again. It was ironic, in a way. I mostly used my phone for social media and email, but this whole past week, I had been totally unplugged. No news from the outside world, no updates on middle school acquaintances' babies or memes about political grievances had penetrated my bubble. Evidently when one is busy maintaining a stable of seven, there simply wasn't time to squander updating my status. (Seven, I insisted to myself. The eighth didn't count.) The saleswoman recognized me, to my surprise. It had only been two weeks since replacing my last phone, the one whose screen had shattered when Megan's all-caps threats caused me to drop it. This new one was prompted by a text from Tabitha that was waiting for me
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