Patience

Read all the Wank Wednesday erotic stories for Patience on Ruby Kiddell’s blog 

Believe it or not, my line of work is not all fun and games.  When people ask what I do, and I respond model, I do get a share of giggles, as if that certainly couldn’t be my real job.  When I meet that with a stoic glare, and they press on, I reveal that I’m a nude model for art classes, and then everything seems to fall into place for them.  They have tons of questions, and I have a ton of answers, which I can rattle off usually before the questions are asked.  Yes, I don’t have a problem taking off my clothes for strangers, no, I’m not going to do it now.  Yes, the pay is ok, at least when the schools honor the contracts and pay me on time, no, I don’t have to deal with lecherous glares from horny old men all the time.  Most people are cool with what I do, and some are a bit judgmental, looking at me like a glorified stripper.

Just a Dollar, Part Two

Author's note: Read part one of "Just a Dollar" here.

I reread the text message about a thousand times before I could get a break from work to respond.  Finally, I found a minute, and walked into the alley behind the restaurant to give Alyssa a call.

“Hi, whore,” she replied.  “Have some questions?”

“Is it really a he?” I asked.  I had a million questions but that seemed most important.

Just a Dollar, Part One

I came home at around eight at night from the late afternoon and early dinner rush at the restaurant, exhausted from being on my feet all day and smiling, which are two of the most exhausting things you’ll ever do.  While my job is fun most times, my boss isn’t too horrible and I get along with the other girls, I’m always thankful when I can get home and finally kick off my shoes.

As I slipped off my white sneakers, I saw that Alyssa was at the kitchen table, as usual, with the computer open and typing away.  Also, as usual, she was naked except for a pair of white cotton panties.  I was thankful she had at least had the decency, this time, to close the windows of our first floor apartment.  Of course, she had nothing to be ashamed about, but as her girlfriend, I liked asserting my right of being the only one allowed to see her naked.

Normal

I arrived at Demona’s house a bit nervous.  We had only briefly spoken on the phone, and shared countless messages online, and she had always been a kind ear to lay my guts out to.  Although I’m a proud atheist, and she’s a self-proclaimed psychic, we became fast friends, and filled the hole that Kate had left in my life.  Kate had been perfect for me and now she was gone from my life, and I just didn’t know what was left.

Camp Shower

I got to the camp shower, that morning in my towel, carrying my waterproof bag of shower essentials.  Another woman was sitting on the bench already, waiting in her own towel for a stall to free up, and I took a seat next to her.  I pulled out an emery board, and idly started grinding away at my fingernails, not really doing anything substantial, but without a cellphone for anything else on me, I found myself without a thing to pass the time.

“I’m Stephanie,” she said, holding out a hand.  

Neighbors

I bought my house a year ago as a short sale. The previous owner was underwater and owed more than the house was ever going to be worth, and so I got a very good deal.  One thing I didn’t count on was the isolation that my new suburban home would provide me.  Yes, there were other homes, technically, all around me, but they all were marked with those familiar green and white signs from the local realtor, who was evidently making a very good living putting them up.  Of the sixteen homes that were in my area, thirteen were vacant, and the ones that were occupied were on the other end of the block, a good half-mile away.  O, the new American dream!

Over the Fence

I think every woman engaged in an extra-marital relationship says it started out innocent enough.  A random wink here, a flirtatious glance there, and before they knew it, they were in a hotel room at two in the morning three freeway exits away, thinking how they were going to get home in time for breakfast.  My own started a little less dignified, and did not afford me such claims of innocence corrupted.  I made several mistakes, pursued it, and landed right where I was supposed to be.

I had been chatting online for about a month, just browsing some recipe forum.  She first complimented me on my crème brûlée recipe, and thing escalated a bit from there.  She was the first to ask my age, if I was married, and for a picture, which I gave readily.  The shower of compliments flowed from there, she said she absolutely adored by brown curls, cutie pie face, and girl next-door charm, and soon our conversations were steered towards our mutual favorite topic--sex.  Before I knew it, I was giving her very explicit details about what went on in the bedroom with my husband of four years, even more details than probably he knows.  

Border

I was sleeping in the passenger seat of Minnie’s SUV, when a gentle nudge woke me from my nap.  Minnie was still driving, of course, her slender body nestled deeply inside a bucket seat that was pushed all the way up.  She wore a baseball cap and sunglasses, something she had never worn before, but today was all about new things.  “Hey wake up, we did it!”

At just five feet and one inch, Minnie looked like a teenager, excitedly taking the car out for the first time.  Of course, we were both in our forties, and driving was nothing new, but Minnie was still bouncing in her seat as excited as a teenager as she pointed at the road sign to me which declared, “Welcome to Nevada!”

Sauna Temptress

I ventured into the sauna straight from the showers, wearing just a towel, given to me compliments of the gym.  My hair was long and auburn, and fell in curls to below my shoulders, and I felt a little sigh of relief as I realized I was alone.  I really don’t have a problem with being around other women wearing nothing, or being topless, but I also had a fear of looking too hard.  I’ve found in my thirty years that my own sex drive is a bit high, and although society is a bit more accepting of lesbians these days, that tends to fall apart in the gym.  I’ve trained myself to look forward, concentrate heavily on what I was doing, and get out of the hanging areas as quickly as I could.

The Last Straw

When I arrived at the bar that Saturday night, I was feeling pretty good.  I just had a good day date with Brian, and I was on my way home, when I got a text message from Samantha, telling me to meet her.  I was expecting to go straight home and relax in the tub for the evening, but I shrugged off those plans and walked into the bar at about seven.

I was wearing a cute white skirt and a Yankees t-shirt that I had borrowed from Samantha’s closet.  I usually only buy feminine clothes, like skirts, cute tops, and things that are pink or frilly, so mixing in Samantha’s clothes make for some very cute outfits that are only slightly tomboyish.  She’s an out lesbian, and makes no efforts to look feminine, but we still share a body type, so I can easily slip into anything she wears.

Lights Out

I sat in my apartment just waiting for the minutes to tick by, hoping the power would come back soon.  The city was suffering from a long power outage, and I had hoped it would come back before dinner.   Dinner had come and gone, and I made myself a turkey sandwich, a diet coke, and some other things that require no power to make.  While the outage did give me a good excuse to eat the last of the ice cream, I was nervous as night fell and still no lights.  I was just about to turn in for the night, when I heard a knock at the door.

“Hi Molly,” the voice said.  “You have a minute?”

A Bad Thing

I didn’t realize it at the time, but I was doing a bad thing.  Richard, the guy I met at the bar seemed quite nice, and put together.  We had gone out on several dates, and our first kiss, to me anyway, signified the start of something good.  Our first few nights together, which were always spent at my place, were much better.  Unfortunately for me, I didn’t notice his finger and the fact that he had a hair missing from the knuckle of his left hand.  For the uninitiated, this is the effect of constantly slipping your wedding ring on and off.  

So, when I appeared at the front door of his apartment one morning, after completing a run, in an unannounced visit, I did notice he was a little flustered, but I figured that was his general demeanor.  He invited me in, reassuring me that I had not caught him at a bad time, and he had all the time in the world.  

Forest Floor

Craig and I were walking for what seemed forever through the section of the forest when we came upon it.  It was something that I noticed right away, but Craig was just as ready to note, dismiss and move on.  A small hill, about twice the size of a king size bed, lay before us, covered with a very soft grass.  To me, it looked so out of place, and like the perfect place for a picnic.

“Craig,” I said, giving my aching feet a rest.  “Can we rest here on this mound?”  I dropped my bag and sat on the small plateau which rose about three feet from the rest of the forest floor.  It made for a very convenient bench, and the grass was quite soft beneath me.

Book Excerpt 3

Another short excerpt from my longer work for tonight, a new short story should be live for tomorrow.  I'm going to dinner with some friends tonight, so hopefully that won't impact my production schedule.

-o-

Most of the cars we passed, luckily were lower than ours, so I was saved from being too exposed.  I did notice that Hayley drove precariously close to some big rigs, and if they had been looking, they would have seen my bare leg for certain.  Of course, it was dark, and so even if they had seen something, it was reasonable to assume it to be something else.

As we pulled into the parking lot, I scanned the surrounding area for signs of life.   Sure enough, there was a pretty clear path of darkness that lead to her staircase, which lead directly to her front door.  Additionally, the pool was almost deserted and so we had this patch of the commons area to ourselves, as long as the people in the pool didn’t look up too much.  

Hayley parked in her spot and bounded out of the car giddy with excitement.  I remember thinking that she looked like a little girl excited about her new puppy, and then quickly came to the realization that I was the puppy.  She came around to the passenger door and opened it up, a slight breeze of warm June air came through.

Bail

Cassie walked into the police station as if she had stepped into an alien world.  The small town of Guadalupe Springs, New Mexico barely had enough residents to allow for a bowling alley, let alone an all-night police station.  Most of the lights in the station were off, and only a few officers were there, mostly keeping the drunks in the drunk tank company, or filing away the last of their paperwork.  They looked up when Cassie came in, but then looked back down when they realized it was nobody special.

Cassie immediately saw Claire, handcuffed to a bench, wearing a baby blue jumpsuit which was branded with “City of Guadalupe Springs” lettering on the side.  Claire looked up and saw Cassie, but immediately averted her gaze.  There was a lot of shame to go around in this situation, and Claire had debated calling Cassie at all for bail money, or pressing her luck in the drunk tank.

Cassie approached the main desk, and a female police officer handed her a clipboard.  “If you have the bail, you can just sign here,” she said sternly.  Cassie was pleased that the process was so quick, and that the majority of the effort was just getting out of bed and raiding the cash stash.  She was glad that it would soon be over.  Cassie read over the paper and the charge, drunk and disorderly.  It was by no means a high crime, or even something that would follow Claire forever, but it was embarrassing nonetheless.

“What’s this extra fee?” Cassie asked.  The bail had been set by the judge, but the station had levied an extra thirty dollar fee labelled processing on top of that.

“She wasn’t wearing what she’s wearing now when she was arrested.  She had already removed all of her clothing, so we had to give her something to cover up.”  Cassie let out an audible sigh, knowing that Claire had heard.  Claire kept her head down, as Cassie signed away.  The officer then came over and released Claire from her cuffs, and helped her to her feet.

“You have a good friend there,” the officer said to Claire.  Claire sulked away, walking out of the police station a free woman, waiting for Cassie to join her outside.

“I don’t know what I’ll do with her,” Cassie said.  “But don’t worry officer, she’s not going to end up here again, that’s for damn sure.”

Cassie exited the station and joined Claire in her sulk.  It was six months since they had moved to this town, and Cassie knew that Claire was having trouble adjusting.  Of course, she was in her mid-twenties, and Cassie was only in her early thirties, and so her behavior this night was nothing but Claire’s immature and bratty nature gone amok.  She was getting too old to be acting out like this, and Cassie needed to make sure she set the law down tonight.

“C’mon, let’s go home,” Cassie said, tugging at Claire’s new jumpsuit.  She padded along in flipflops that were also provided, courtesy of the jail.  Claire walked to the passenger door of the car, and waited for Cassie to unlock it.
“Claire,” Cassie said.  “Now that we’re alone, I can be a bit more normal with you.”

Claire sighed, knowing what “normal” for Cassie meant.  “What do I need to do?”

“You were very, very bad this evening, and could not control your drinking.  This is behavior that needs to be punished.”

“I was arrested,” Claire protested.  “Time served?”

“Um, I think not!” Cassie threw back.  “You may be basically square in the eyes of the law, you just need to pay a little fine, but you caused a considerable amount of grief for me this evening.  Do you know how embarrassing it was for me to get the call to bail your ass out?  Do you know how much people in these small towns talk?”

Claire nodded, knowing that more protesting would just lead to more punishment.  “Get in the back seat,” Cassie ordered.  Claire climbed into the back, and before Cassie closed the door, she leaned in and looked Claire up and down.  “Now, Claire, I had to pay extra for that cute little getup you’re wearing.  Do you think it’s fair that you forced me to buy that,and I don’t get to have it, even though I just purchased it?”

“No,” Claire said.

“Good, we’re in agreement then,” Cassie said.  “Hand it over.”

Claire relunctantly looked around and sighed.  Cassie had her cornered, which is what Cassie did best, and Claire knew better than to fight her on any point.  Claire fumbled with the snaps and lone zipper and quickly shed the jumpsuit.  She had to fidget in her seat a bit, but eventually the suit was off, revealing what Claire had really been arrested in:  An American Flag thong panty and blue star nipple covers, covering Claire’s C-cup breasts.

“Now,” Cassie said, “I don’t see why they had to cover you up with anything.  That’s just about formal wear for you!”

The costume Claire was wearing had placed second in Maddigan’s annual third of July bikini contest.  As most towns in America, July the fourth was dedicated to family barbecue and fireworks, with all the bars in Guadalupe Springs closed.  Maddigan’s took the third of July as the perfect day for a raunchy bikini contest, with contestants from many towns over taking part.  

Claire had pleaded with Cassie to come for support, but Cassie refused saying it was objectifying to women, and taking the feminist high road.  An argument had erupted in their house, with the end being Claire storming out of the house to take part in the fun, and Cassie going to bed early.  What Claire had not counted on was a jealous bitch from Las Cruces getting drunk and accusing her of trying to “steal her man.”  No amount of talking could calm the woman, and when the police arrived the fight was already well underway.  All the witnesses, and the owners of the bar, were just happy to claim they both started the fight, and be able to continue the night’s festivities, minus the few bad elements.  Cassie was still fuming at this injustice, mostly because there was no possible way that she would ever attempt to “steal” anyone’s “man”.

She sat and sulked in the car as Cassie drove, the night turning out to be an unquestionable disaster.  “Listen, I’m sorry we fought,” Claire started.  “But the bar fight really wasn’t my fault!”

“Claire, you’re never going to grow up if you don’t take responsibility once or twice for your actions,” Cassie angrily shouted from the driver’s seat.  “Bail money does not come free you know!” They pulled into the garage and Cassie stopped the engine and opened the door.  “Stay here until I say to get out!” she ordered.

Cassie left Claire alone in the garage, and she wondered what was next.  The light was on a timer and clicked off, leaving Claire alone in the dark car, patiently awaiting Cassie’s next order.  Cassie finally came back and made her way to Claire’s door and opened it.  “Get out, and come with me,” she said fuming.

They exited the garage and entered the backyard, the patio lit by by the lights on inside the house.  Cassie led Claire to the hose and stated, “We’re going to get that jailhouse stank off of you!  Now strip!”

Claire looked around nervously, wondering if she was understanding fully.  “Here?” she asked.

“Of course here!” Cassie yelled.  “Now!”

Claire’s breathing quickened and she pulled the adhesive stars off her nipples.  “Toss it all in the garbage can,” Cassie ordered.  Claire was on the verge of tears as she placed the stars in the garbage, and pulled the thong down, off her legs.

“That goes in the garbage too!” Cassie insisted.  Claire sniffled some more, and tossed the remains of her bikini in the trash.  Cassie then walked over to the hose, and turned on the faucet.  Water started flowing from the hose, and Cassie, placed her finger at the end of the hose, increasing the water pressure of the stream which came out.

Claire flinched as the first jet of water hit her, but then eventually get used to the assault.  Water formed in droplets all across her skin, and even the warm summer air couldn’t help to make the experience less frigid.  Claire covered her pussy and breasts, in a vain attempt to maintain some modesty, but Cassie expertly sprayed her without mercy.

“Please Cassie!” Claire yelled.  Tears were streaming down her face, but of course those were overwhelmed by the gallons of water that Cassie had forced over it.  “I’m sorry!” she said.
“Then take your punishment!  Spread your legs, arms out!”  Cassie barked.  She loved giving orders like this and was getting wetter by the second as she applied more of the hose to Claire.  Claire dutifully did as she was told, and Cassie wasted no time in taking advantage.  Her pussy tits and face were blasted with icy cold well-water that did more to utterly humiliate her than actually clean her.

“It just occured to me, Claire,” Cassie taunted.  “I paid good money tonight for you, and you insisted on prancing around like a whore tonight without me.  Now is that anyway to treat a client?”  Cassie laughed with an evil grin.

“No,” Claire whimpered.

“So are you going to be a good whore for me?”

Claire’s mind was so clouded with everything that had happened tonight and the lashing she was getting at the hands of Cassie’s hose.  “Yes!” she exclaimed. “I’ll be a good whore for you!”

The water was turned off and Cassie put the hose down.  She walked over to the blubbering Claire who was looking up at her with sad, puppy-dog eyes.  “All forgiven?” she asked.

Cassie kissed her on the forehead and told her, “Now go upstairs and take a nice long shower.  You wanted to parade around like a whore tonight, and you’re going to make good on your promise!”

Claire broadly smiled, and pranced to the house, eager to hop in the shower and make sure she showed Cassie tonight that her bail money was worth every cent.

The Grind

I always seem to wake up exactly five minutes before the alarm is set to go off.  Still too early for my brain, but not enough time to even make a difference.  I laid in bed staring at 5:55 in the big red LED symbols on my clock, letting out a huge sigh.  It was Wednesday, which meant I would have to stay after work with Indira for our weekly “special session,” and that I would have to check my email before getting dressed to find out what to wear.

I certainly don’t have the worst boss in the world, and Indira has done many things for me and my career.  While a lot of other girls I know are either struggling to make ends meet, or trapped with hopeless loser boyfriends, Indira quickly promoted me to personal assistant, and I definitely have a more blessed life because of it.  However, I do have that nagging feeling that many of my talents are physical, and have to do with my mocha skin and slender figure, and that Indira just likes the way a young black woman like me looks in a business suit.

My first project when I was hired was to go shopping for myself, using a company credit card to get fitted at all the stores that Indira had picked out.  Many of the boutiques were quite specialized, and more than two were very intimate, requiring me to bare all to get accurate measurements.  Indira wanted a “complete teardown,” as she called it, of my wardrobe, and I was to wear only the clothes that she picked out for me.  She even extended this requirement to casual-wear and I was to only wear t-shirts, jeans, and sneakers that she and her special line of stores could provide.

In my bedroom I stripped down out of my pajamas and headed straight for the kitchen, fully nude, to make myself breakfast. This morning ritual was another thing that Indira wanted me to do exactly as she instructed each morning.  Of course, there was no way for her to check up on me, unless she was in cahoots with the landlord and they installed cameras or something, but I complied since Indira made such a good case that this was for my own good, and professional development.  She had said that she did this each morning, and I did look to her as a mentor, and so I followed her example.

After breakfast, I made my way to the bathroom and showered, using the special soap that Indira picked out.  This was something she did have the power to check up on, and would often come over to my desk and lean over my shoulder.  I knew she was smelling me when she did this, I could hear her taking in a whiff through her nose, and she was always pleased with the fruity peach scent that I gave off.  I covered my body in this, since I would have to stay extra late this evening, on account of tonight being Wednesday.

After the shower, I dried off and headed to my laptop to find out what I was to wear.  Indira had an inventory of all my clothes, and everything was cataloged completely.  Most days, I picked out whatever I wanted, but Wednesdays were for Indira.  If there was no email, I could wear pick out anything from my wardrobe, but today there was an email, which meant she would decide.  I opened it and found my assignment of a familiar gray skirt, pink blouse and sportcoat.  The email also cam with a surprising postscript:

“Adanya, you’ll notice that there is no specification for bra or panties for today.  I’m sure you will not deviate from this.”

I read that line again, making sure I understood it, and sighed.  This was a little over the line, even for Indira, but there was no way for me to reject this command.  I pulled together the outfit and slipped it on, feeling the fabric against my skin for the first time at every point in my skin.  I found myself walking more slowly on the streets of the city, as each sway and movement rubbed the fabric against a new area of my skin that was simply not used to such stimulation.  While I knew that nobody else could see, or even suspected there was something different about me, I knew that once I got to the office, Indira would be able to look directly through this suit, which was really the company’s and see just a naked girl underneath.  And tonight, we had a special session which was usually anything but work, and I was certain she would use the opportunity to take full advantage of the state of my dress.

Five in the evening came and went, and I was summoned by email to Indira’s office. The sun was setting beautifully on the water, and Indira sat in her chair, mesmerized by it.  These special sessions were never really about accomplishing work, but usually just involved me sitting patiently, listening to her reminisce about her childhood, growing up in India, moving to the United States in her teens, getting her MBA, and everything that a biographer would need to know.  She would also ask about my relationships, and it was assumed that during these times I would be an open book to her.  Over the past weeks, I had revealed almost all the personal details of every relationship I had ever had, from first puppy love crushes, to boyfriends and girlfriends that had occupied my time.  I hoped that tonight she would not force me to reminisce about my sexual experiences, like she had done before, as I feared my braless and pantieless state would prove too exciting for such discussions.

“It’s my birthday today,” Indira started as I entered and closed the door.  “I’m forty-one.”

“Happy birthday,” I politely responded.  She had not said a word to anyone about it, and nobody I worked with had mentioned it.

“You can make it a little happier for me,” she said, with a little wink.  My stomach was filled with butterflies as she said that.  While Indira had listened intently as I revealed all my sexual relationships to her, she was married and had two beautiful children.  And, I was just not prepared, nor did I have any desire to be, the office slut.

“Indira,” I said forcefully and in an almost accusatory manner, “I don’t know what you have planned for this evening, but I am a professional, and I demand to be respected as such.”

Indira’s smile widened.  “Yes!” she hissed.  “That’s it, tell me more.”

“More?”

“Yes, please tell me how inappropriate I’ve been!”  Indira rose from her chair and took a seat on the couch of her office.  “Please, this is good executive practice for you.  Let me know exactly what’s wrong with how I’ve been treating you.”

“Indira,” I said, “well, the wardrobe and daily ritual you have for me, is something we should discuss.”  I wanted to test the waters with this leeway she was giving.  “I don’t appreciate being told what to wear every Wednesday, or how to get myself ready for the day.  These are things that I already know how to do.”

Indira put her head down, refusing to look at me in the eye.  “Yes,” she said, “I understand, it was too far-reaching of me to suggest such a routine, Ms. Jackson.”

Ms. Jackson hit me by surprise.  Indira would never call me with a title, but here she was, taking an obviously submissive stance.  While offended at being objectified throughout the day, I also recognized that she was giving me carte blanche for a little retribution.  I contemplated if this was another test of executive willpower on my part, a game, or a little bit of both.  I decided that since I had the power here, I would decide whether or not to continue.

“It’s ok, Indira,” I said, addressing her by her first name again.  I was expecting a correction, as she normally did, but it never came.  “And I can forgive you for it, if I was certain you had instituted the same rules for yourself today, in what you are wearing.” I could see that there were no visible straps of a bra in the light that came through her shirt, and she was sitting a bit differently that how she normally did.

“Oh, but I did Ms.Jackson,” she said to me, with the intonation of a student in trouble with her teacher.  I told her to stand and I sat on the edge of her desk.  She obeyed and stood straight and I could see in the light the outline of her dark nipples showing through her cotton shirt.  I crossed my legs, and saw her eyes drift down to see my skirt riding up my thigh.  I kicked off my heels and said, “but how do I know you really did, Indira? Maybe I should send your little email to me to HR if you don’t prove to me right now you are not doing the same.”

I knew that at that moment that I was either on the precipice of a good time, or getting fired.  I was relieved when Indira started fumbling at the buttons for her blouse.  They came undone one by one, and she opened her shirt to reveal her olive skin, and dark brown nipples.  She still had young and refreshing skin, and she obviously took care of it well.  “That doesn’t prove everything,” I pressed knowing I was safe.  I was beginning to get used to my new found power and wanted to push Indira as far as she wanted to go.

She dropped the shirt to the ground and nervously undid the skirt she was wearing and let it drop to the floor.  She now stood nude in her own office, staring at me, breathlessly awaiting a new order.

My mind took in her body and was a bit dumbstruck at what to do next.  Indira’s body was certainly very sexy, and I could see myself getting very turned on by this power, but did she have the courage to really go the distance with me?  She came from an extremely conservative family, and had so much to lose, I needed assurances that she would put it on the line for me.

“Sit on the floor and lift your leg up, as I high as it can go,” I ordered.  She proved herself to be quite flexible and soon her leg was pointed up, awaiting a new order, and displaying a rapidly moistening pussy.  I walked over barefoot and raised my own foot directly above this slit, feeling her heat radiate from her excitement.  She expected the sole of my foot to make contact, and I did not disappoint.

“This is no place to do this,” I said sternly.  “I’m not just some cheap office tramp,” I declared, pressing my foot into her exposed labia and clit.  She shuddered as I made contact with my foot and hot pink pedicured toenails. “But you have the means to make it better.”

I released my foot from her pussy and said, “We are going to go to the nicest hotel you can get a room for.  There we will not have some tawdry one night stand for your forty-first birthday, Indira.  We are to make passionate love to one another, understood?  Put your leg down now.”

Indira nodded as she put her leg down, her taught olive toned body still groveling on the carpeted office floor at my feet.  “I understand Ms. Jackson.”

“And I want you to get on the phone right now with the hotel, don’t make your assistant do YOUR job,” I said sternly.  She nodded in agreement again and made her way to the phone.  Instead of walking she crawled on all fours, her breasts jiggling comically as she was reduced to a groveling servant before me.  Indira would still be my boss, but I would forever have a special power over her, at least every Wednesday.

As she dialed for the hotel, and started ordering the room, I knew that my job would never be quite the same again.  I looked over the city, and across the water as the sky darkened, and knew this was my time to be Ms. Jackson.

Cold Pizza, Part Two

We arrived at a house in a nice part of town, and I was shocked to see how regal it looked.  Our pizza joint served the lower scale houses and apartment complexes of our little college town, and we were almost never called to deliver to a house such as this.  I must have been the one to write down this address for Cameron when he was sent to deliver, but it just didn’t register with me at the time just how far away and rich this location really was.

“Is this it?” I asked, double-checking the map on my phone.

“Sure is!” Kayla answered.  She had quickly slipped her dress back on while I drove, and with my seduction complete, maintained her state of dress for the entire trip.  “Lydia married up.”  Kayla jumped out of the car giddy with excitement.  She made it half-way up the steps to the front door, before she realized I wasn’t with her.  I still had the problem of having no pants,  I had not collected them before I slipped back into the driver’s seat after Kayla and I were done.  I desperately trying to reach my jeans which were just out of arm’s reach for me from my position in the car, but they were perched behind the headrests of the rear passenger seats.  I was looking quite ridiculous, mooning the empty streets of this rich neighborhood, while kneeling in the driver’s seat.

Kayla skipped back down the steps and was giggling a bit at my predicament.  “I love the shirt,” she said, teasing me and not helping.  Thanks to her tearing, my t-shirt was ruined down the front, but putting it on backwards at least kept me covered for the ride.

“Can you please help?” I pleaded.  “I don’t want to have to leave the car bottomless.”

“Tell ya what,” she offered.  “I’ll help you.”  With that she opened the car door, and I was greeted with a cool draft air.  I instinctively covered my pussy and crossed my legs, maintaining my modesty.

“C’mon, there’s nobody here, you can be quick.”

“No!” I protested.  Kayla could see that while she was quite persuasive with me before, she didn’t have enough time now.  She wanted to get inside as soon as possible, Lydia was waiting.

“Ok, ok,” she said.  “But you have to trust me,” she grabbed my wrist and guided me up, taking me out of the car.  Her intent stare encouraged me on, and I complied, but still scared out of my mind that someone would see.  When I was on my feet, feeling the lukewarm asphalt beneath, she slipped her purse off her shoulder, and around my neck.  It dangled low enough to cover me, although my whole backside was exposed.  “See?”

I sighed, knowing this was the best she could do, without actually helping me.  “Ok, I said, just keep behind me.”

“With pleasure!”  We walked up the steps, me barefoot and half-naked, and Kayla behind me liberally goosing me at almost every step.  The first time I jumped, but as I got immune to further pinches and pulls, her fingers got more invasive. By the time we had made it to the top steps, she had a finger lodged between my ass cheeks, which I knew was about to probe further.  “Ring the door bell,” she ordered.

I did as she requested and she started probing my ass deeply.  I was mildly panicked that this was the wrong house, and just some sort of sick game between Cameron, Lydia, and Kayla to humiliate me completely.  My fears vanished when a tall woman with platinum blond hair, sparkling blue eyes, around 40 answered the door.  She was also completely naked.

Of course she didn’t recognize me, but could see Kayla behind me, preoccupied with something.  I put on a brave face, but my wincing must have given away what was happening behind me.   “Kayla,” she scolded, “What are you hiding back there?”

“Nuffin,” she said sweetly.  She then turned me around to reveal to Lydia exactly what she already probably knew.  She smacked my ass hard, producing an echo that reverberated across the neighborhood.  My head darted back and forth praying that nobody heard it and that we could quickly get inside.

“You work fast!” Lydia praised Kayla.  “Come on in, pizza girl, you’ve been through enough.”

I  walked inside, not knowing what to expect, but still in awe of the place.  The foyer was large and a regal staircase lead up to the second floor landing, while a crystal chandelier hung brilliantly from above.  The house was modern, but still was accented perfectly with art that showed the owner had quite sophisticated tastes.  If Lydia had not answered the door naked, or if I didn’t know what Kayla did not have on under her dress, I would have felt dreadfully under-dressed for a mansion like this.

Kayla confiscated her purse from me immediately, and Lydia looked down at my pussy, licking her lips.  “Cameron certainly didn’t tell me you were so edible!”  I blushed deeply, not knowing what to do next, frozen by fear and being so much on display.  I had had sex in cars before, but the aftermath was never like this.  Kayla and Lydia seemed to be in control of this madcap dream, and I was just along for the ride.  Lydia reached out and grabbed the collar of my shirt, effortlessly discarding it on the marble floor.  

“There we are,” she said, pleased.  Kayla then returned her hand to my ass crack, probing away again.  I was too distracted at the sight of Lydia and my own nakedness to put up any sort of fight any longer.  I was under their complete control.

“Kayla,” Lydia asked, “why do you always insist on the butt?” Lydia stepped close enough for me to feel her breath escaping as she spoke.  “When these lips are always much tastier,” Lydia said as she started stroking my pussy lips, which had started to get wet again thanks to the walk up the steps, my nervousness from the sudden exhibition of my body, and the magic that Kayla was doing to my ass.  Lydia teased my clit, and I was transported again.  I just didn’t care that both these women were strangers, and Cameron’s failures that night were a distant foggy memory.  I grasped Lydia’s shoulders to brace myself and keep from collapsing as both these women worked me from both directions.

I started planting kisses on Lydia, but she stopped my lips from making contact with any part of her magnificent figure.  She continued to stroke my pussy lips and clit, bringing me to the precipice but never allowing me release.  “Pizza girl, do you want me?”

My face must have been a sight to look at at that moment.  Of course, I wanted her, I would have had to be made of stone not to.  Everything that I had experienced tonight, including my time with Kayla in the car, I now realized was just foreplay for this moment.  “Yes,” I said.  “Please.”

She smiled broadly.  “Ok, but first, you have to do something you may not like right off the bat.”

My hips were grinding against Kayla’s fingers and Lydia’s palms.  I had been downgraded to the role of putty in the hands of these two.  “Anything you want,” I agreed.  

“Perfect,” she exclaimed.  Kayla let go, and Lydia’s own hand stopped, leaving me in a frustrating disatisfaction.  She and Lydia each hooked their arm around one of mine, and led me down a long narrow hallway, and to a hottub, where Cameron sat gazing up at the stars.

“See, told you so,” Lydia said.  “We can get anyone to do anything.”

They didn’t tell me outright, but I knew what I was expected to do, and it was sitting a few feet from me below the bubbling frothy water.  I was lead into the tub and I slipped in, Cameron’s eyes wide as I sank , shoulder deep into the frothy water.  Although I had been turned on by only women this evening, the prospect of having Cam was also getting me excited.  I was by no means a full lesbian, and capping off this night with a nice warm cock was very tempting.

I scooted over next to Cam and saw that he had nothing on.  “Jess, are you sure?”  I just nodded and grasped his cock which was already rock hard.  Lydia slipped in to the water, and Kayla slipped off her dress and joined.  They grabbed at all my limbs, and decided to use the control that I was freely giving to them.  As Lydia teased my nipples, Kayla teased my clit, and my quick short breathing started up again.  In the weightlessness of the water, I floated on a cloud, and was being pushed, with legs spread, toward the seat that Cameron occupied.  I had no way to stop this process, it was a foregone conclusion that the dirty minds of Lydia and Kayla had worked out with almost evil precision, but at the same time, there was no will left in me to stop it.  To be denied Cameron now would be most disappointing to me and my aching pussy.

I felt the tip of his cock rub against, my lips and Kayla and Lydia pushed me down.  It fit so perfectly, and I gasped as my pussy greedily grabbed hold of Cameron’s member.  Lydia and Kayla worked as a seamless team, pushing and pulling me, making  Cameron himself moan with pleasure.  My mind briefly thought about the morning after, the reprecussions of this act, but I quickly discarded it.   My lust had completely taken over my better judgement, and I rode Cameron as if he were my long lost lover.  Kayla’s and Lydia’s hands suddenly left my body, and I continued to fuck Cameron.  We found a natural rhythm and I wrapped my arms around his neck, planting a warm kiss on his lips.

Just as had happened in the car with Kayla and the foyer with Lydia, the rest of the world melted away, and it was just Cameron and I left, surrounded by bubbling pool of water.  We kissed passionately, and with no prompting.  His lips found my nipples and I offered them to him as he sucked and bit lightly.  I sighed and moaned loudly, wanting to make sure his cock stayed hard and within me for as long as possible.  “Oh God, oh God,” I panted, as I felt a familiar stirring that started in my clit and radiated through my pussy lips and into me.

Lydia reached around me and dove a hand downwards to gently rub my clit, tossing me over the edge.  I climaxed hard, my pussy pulsating around Cameron’s probing cock and I screamed out until there was no air left in my body.  I arched my back, and continued to come in waves, encouraged by Cameron’s hips and Lydia’s hands.  

Kayla then reached down and stroked Cameron’s balls, and that was way too much for the poor guy. This sent him over the edge for him, and as I regained my breath, I felt Cameron release deep inside me, his cock pulsating in waves as his semen flooded my pussy, which responded automatically by greedily pulsating around it.  I hugged the exhausted Cameron, and we kissed more, as I felt his member soften within me and slowly inch its way out.  We must have been kissing each other in our afterglow for quite some time, because when we finally broke our kiss and broke apart, Kayla and Lydia were on the other side of the hot tub, nibbling at each other playfully.

Completely exhausted, we soaked in the hot tub, looking up at the twinkling stars of a beautiful night.  Kayla, of course, with her boundless energy emerged fully nude from the tub and toweled off.  She walked over to the table, where a familiar pizza box lay, and picked up a slice.  “Hey!” she yelled.  “What kind of pizza people are you? This is cold!”

I sat on Cameron’s lap, as he put his arms around me, and we were both quite content with delivering cold pizza like that for a long while.