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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
Teaching her a lesson 136
I'd probably said words to that effect a hundred times, bitching and moaning about my resident demonspawn to my friends and sympathetic colleagues. "What can I say, you're an inspiration. But really, last time I'm saying it before I drag you out to your car. Go. There's an umbrella by the door. Borrow it if you need to." She was obviously displeased, but I gave her nothing. Any crack in the façade, signs of interest or weakness, even a stray glance at the way her white t-shirt was plastered against those mouth-watering tits of hers, and she'd push me. And if she pushed me, I was going to push her back - right onto my bed, where I'd fuck the living daylights out of her. "Fine. Be a fucking prick, why don't you." Taylor hesitated just long enough for me to say something, but anything I said would have only stopped her, and stopping her only would have laid my weakness bare. I watched her go, redirecting my eyes off of her ass just in time not to be caught after her pivot at the midpoi
Teaching her a lesson 137
It was somehow more apparent how cold we'd gotten once we were back in the warmth of the house. Shivering violently, we retired to my bathroom and hastily helped one another out of our wet clothes. (Taylor received some assistance from Cassie, who, although she'd had the presence of mind to protect herself with an umbrella on her flight from next door, went right ahead and stripped with us. I silently thanked my fussy ex for sticking me with this opulent shower that managed to accommodate all three bodies without being unduly cramped. The two of us leaned against the wall as we permitted Cassie to help massage some warmth back into our limbs. "So you guys were kissing right out there in the street, huh," Cassie pointed out. Neither of us had an immediate response to that, so she went on. "I don't think anyone else saw, though, since the rain. I thought it looked romantic, though. Are you two a couple now or something? That would be so weird. Do you think you'd get fired if you starte
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