Chapter 4

Of course George got turned on too, and his hands moved over my body as he watched me jerking myself off. That helped me get horny again too, and when his fingers slid down between my legs and began to stroke my clitty my breathing became harder and heavier, and my eyes fluttered helplessly.

Soon George rolled atop me, blocking my view as he spread my legs and drove his cock into my hot pussy. I groaned in pleasure, raising my knees and jerking them back as I slid my arms around him and mashed my lips upwards.

His own lips came down and his tongue pushed into my mouth as he humped rapidly down into my slit. I drew my legs even further back, panting for breath as I felt his cock drive deep into my crotch hole on each stroke, grunting happily under the swelling sexual high that made my flesh quiver and burn.

His chest crushed my breasts as he grabbed at my hair and pulled my head back, then he bit down on my throat and sucked furiously.

Afterwards he had me dance again, making more suggestions about the way I should move and the things I should do. It was kind of weird, but fun. Then he got up and slapped my ass ... I was bending over at the time, and said we both needed a shower after our "exercise".

He led me by the hand into that huge bathroom again, and I wondered if he wanted me to clean him like I had last week, rubbing my body against him. But he came in with me and then pulled me against him as the water poured down on us.

Then he turned the water off and picked up the soap, giving it to me. I started to rub it over my breasts but he shook his head.

"No, me," he said.

I put my hands and the bar against his chest and started soaping him up. I started with his shoulders and worked my way down his arms, then over his belly. I moved around his back because I wanted to save his cock for last.

I couldn't help soaping up my breasts when I was behind him, then sliding my arms around him and rubbing them up and down against his back. He slid a hand back behind him and in between my legs, rubbing my wet pussy.

I spread my legs a little, sighing in pleasure. His hand was all soapy and it felt nice and slippery against my cunt slit.

I giggled and continued to rub my titties against his back until it was all soapy, then moved around in front again, cause the best part was still there. I grinned up at him as I reached down and began to soap up his cock and balls, and he grinned back, sliding his soapy hand in between my legs once more.

I had a his cock in both hands, soapy squishing out around my hands as I mashed them gently in against him. I was trying to go really slow, to tease him, you know, but his hand was having a lot of effect between my own legs.

That didn't seem really fair since his cock was still soft. My pussy was burning, though, and every time his fingers sawed over it I felt my legs get rubbery and weak and a flutter of intense pleasure ran up my spine. Then he pushed a finger up inside my slit, sawing it across my clitty as he fucked me with it.

I gasped and clutched his arms as a wave of bliss made my mind fade out briefly. Then he pushed a second finger inside me and kind of hooked them up inside my slit, using them to lift me onto my toes and pull me in against him. His thumb pressed down on my clit and ground down with a furious, rasping motion that made me shake and quiver.

My head jerked back and my body shook violently as my mouth opened and closed in helpless gurgling pleasure. I felt a massive tidal wave of ecstasy swamp my senses, and I humped mindlessly and desperately against him as he jammed that thumb down on my clitty and crushed it back against his two fingers.

I clutched at his arms, which were slippery with soap, but could find little purchase there, and what kept me from slipping downwards was those two fingers he had hooked up in my pussy sheath. I hugged him tightly, shuddering and groaning as the pleasure coursed through my system, then with a laugh he slid his fingers out of my pussy and I slid down his body, still clutching him, my face rubbing over his belly then his groin, then his thighs, until I was on my knees holding onto his legs.

"You know, baby," he said. "I think you were made for this kind of thing. A face and body like yours, as responsive as you are ... you should do this for a living. Forget about college and become a hooker full time."

I groaned and let go of him, sitting back on my behind to catch my breath.

"I'm still not clean," he said.

I heaved a sigh, then got to my knees again, found the soap where I'd dropped it, then, since I was down there already, began to soap up his legs. I got to my feet then and resumed fondling his cock, which now began to harden. I grinned and wrapped my soapy fingers around it, pumping his prick in an effort to make him as weak legged as I had been.

George just grinned, and his hand slid down between my legs again. Once again his fingers slid up into my pussy hole and hooked there while his thumb began to work back and forth against my clitoris. I thought of it as a race, you know, see which of us would come first.

George, though, had no intention of coming off in my hands. His eyes bored into me as his thumb worked over my pussy and my hands pumped on his cock. He showed no signs of excitement, other than the hard-on, of course, while I was soon breathing heavy again, and fighting to keep my body from humping against him.

Whether it was a test of responsiveness, or a test of will, or a test of expertise, whichever it was I was losing it. I was panting loudly, my body was trembling, and my legs were jerking and twitching as my hips started to hump against his rasping thumb.

"God," I panted.

My insides were twisting and churning and boiling over with hot, steamy sex-heat. I trembled and my hands tightened, then loosened on his soapy cock.

"Fuuuuuuck," I gasped.

His thumb moved faster and faster and I began to shake and tremble more violently. The sexual electricity crackled and sizzled up and down my spine as my eyes rolled upwards and my mouth gaped.

Then he pulled away. With a sudden, swift movement he turned me around and pressed me firmly against the tiled wall of the shower stall. He moved in behind me and I felt his soapy cock pressing against my ass cheeks.

I was still gasping and panting from the flood of sexual passion, a flood that had not yet begun to recede. I realized belatedly that his cock was not pressing against my pussy, but was nudging my asshole. At first I just thought it was a mistake, but it kept pressing upwards.

I was not totally blasted, so it didn't take me more than a few seconds to understand what was happening, to realize that he was trying to push his soapy cock up into my asshole. That shocked me, but the feelings I experienced were confused. I was repulsed by the thought that he would push his cock in THERE, but at the same time I felt a hot flash of sexual heat.

I'd heard about girls who got fucked in the ass, of course, but I'd never thought I'd be one of them, never thought that I would ever ... ever ... have a cock in my asshole.

And then his cockhead popped through and his shaft began to follow it up into my anus.

"Ge ... G ... Geoooorge!" I gasped.

"You have too nice an ass not to get it fucked now and then, honey," he panted. "An ass like yours needs to get fucked!"

His body pressed into mine and his hand gripped my hair, twisting my head back and to the side. He bit down on the nape of my neck as his cock slowly pushed up deeper into my asshole.

I quivered and shook, but was caught like a fish on a hook, with no way to pull free as his thick, meaty pole drove up inside my quaking asshole.

I gasped and groaned and my eyes fluttered as I felt his cock up inside me. I didn't know what I was supposed to do. I'd never even talked to anyone who had been ass fucked before. Then his right hand slid down my belly and in between my legs. He cupped my pussy and squeezed it repeatedly, then gripped my thigh and jerked it up sharply, pulling it up and back as he thrust his hips forward.

I cried out as his cock spiked up into my asshole. It drove to the depths of my guts as he smashed his hips into my buttocks. He ground his crotch into my buttocks as he twisted his cock around inside my rectal tube. His teeth continued to gnaw at the side of my throat as he crushed me against the tiles.

"God God God!" I moaned.

"What an ass!" he groaned.

He started pumping then, the soap coating his prick making it easy as he slid it back and forth inside me. He let go of my thigh and his hands gripped my arms, then pulled them upwards. His hands slid up along my arms to my wrists and raised them up and apart, so I was spread-eagled against the tiles.

His cock sawed faster and faster inside my rectum, his hips slapping firmly and wetly against my soapy ass, smashing my own hips into the tiles repeatedly as he poled his big cock around inside my asshole.

The repeated impacts against my ass cheeks was certainly familiar. It was like being fucked from behind. It also jarred my pussy mound which was still deeply aroused.

George pressed my hands flat against the wall.

"Keep your hands there," he gasped.

Then his hands slid off mine and gripped my hips. He jerked them out from the wall so my hands slid downwards along the tiles. Then, with me bent over a little, he resumed fucking my ass.

One hand slid around my left and squeezed my breasts, while the other slid around my right and down between my legs. He started stroking my pussy slit in time to his hard sodomizing fuck strokes. The heat blasted up inside me and I came instantly, the pressure inside my skull blasting my brains apart as that stiff prick pounded up into my anus.

The cum felt somehow different than others, as my asshole sucked and squeezed and spasmed around his prick. It felt deeper, like it was centered right inside my guts. My insides twisted and exploded, and I cried out in ecstasy as my body shook and spasmed and writhed in the throes of pleasure.

He apologized afterwards, saying he should have asked about fucking me up the ass. He also gave me more money, saying that hookers, excuse me, call girls, always charged more for that. He gave me an extra two hundred.

I was a little irked. I mean, jees, getting fucked in the ass! But the two hundred kind of made me happy again. Hell, getting a little ass fucking was a lot better than working for a whole week at the wine store, and I would've had to do that to make two hundred bucks.

So I went home happy from my third week of "work". In just those three weeks I'd made nineteen hundred bucks! That was an incredible sum of money to me. I would've practically had to work the whole summer to make that much money at the wine store, or some other crummy two bit job, but all I'd had to do with George was work for three evenings.

I put another two hundred and fifty bucks into my school account, and shoved the rest into a small box I kept hidden in the back of my closet. I was gonna have to open another bank account soon, otherwise someone was liable to discover the box, and I'd have a helluva time explaining where the money came from.

I'd been spending some of it, of course, but there was a limit to what I could buy. I couldn't exactly start buying up the dress stores, not without raising more questions. My parents would note new clothes pretty quick, after all.

Anyway, I looked forward to another week of relaxing on the beach and with my friends, but just two days later my private phone rang and it turned out to be George.

I was surprised to hear his voice on the phone and asked him what he wanted.

"I was wondering if you were considering taking on any new, ah, customers," he said.

I blinked my eyes in confusion, then realized what he meant.

"I have a close friend," he continued. "He was, ah, looking for a source of ah, relief, and I happened to mention you. He was quite interested."

"Uhm, I don't know," I said.

"He's a decent chap, really. You've nothing to fear from him. He has a thing for young girls, is all. That's why he'd like your services instead of one of the call girls he usually employs. I ah, told him that the introductory fee was a thousand dollars."

"What?" I gasped.

He chuckled in amusement. "He pays more than that for one of the call girls he uses, so he's willing to pay a thousand for you."

"How much does he usually pay?" I asked.

"Well, I'll let you discuss that with him. If you'd like to try him out I have his number."

"Uhm, okay."

He gave me the number and I wrote it down.

"Now you be good," he said. "I told Jack you were a novice, but that I'd had a hand in your training. Don't make me feel inept."

"I won't," I promised.

I called this Jack guy, a little reluctantly.

"Hello?"

"Uhm, is this Jack?" I asked.

"It is."

"This is, uhm, Allison. George's friend."

"Yes. George mentioned you. How would you like to come over tomorrow evening?"

"What time?"

"Say six."

"Where do you live?"

I wrote down the address he gave me.

"Oh, there's one other thing," he said.

"What?"

"Do you have a uniform?"

"A what?" I blinked.

"A uniform. You know, a school uniform."

"Oh, no. My school never used them."

"Find one, will you, blue with a tartan skirt. I'll pay."

"But ... "

"I like my girls meek and shy," he said. Then he hung up.

"What?" I said into the dead phone.

I hung up slowly, shaking my head. This guy was a real pervert. I considered calling him back and telling him to forget it, but ... a thousand dollars ... for one evening. Hell. I wasn't the meek, mild type normally, but okay, if that's what he wanted.

But I had to find a uniform first. Now where in hell did you go for a uniform when your school didn't use uniforms? Maybe I could make up my own. I had a blue blazer and white shirt. All I really needed was a tartan skirt. But no, the things were supposed to have some kind of a crest on the pocket and mine didn't.

I called a girlfriend who'd gone to a private school and asked her where she got her uniforms, telling her a cousin was going to be going to her school next fall. She told me and I chatted a little, then hung up. Next day I drove down to the store and picked up a blazer, matching tartan skirt, and white blouse. Nobody batted an eye or asked for any proof I was going to the school, nor asked why I wanted the thing now, with seven weeks to go before school started.

I took the stuff home and hid it in the back of my closet, wondering how on earth I'd explain that if anyone came across it. I suppose I could say I was keeping it for a friend. Who'd suspect anything else?

I stared at my hair for a bit, wondering if I should put it in pig tails or something. I decided not. Instead I decided on a simply loose pony tail, with lots of bangs over my forehead. It made me look a little younger, and I was sure I could pass for a younger high school girl, instead of the college woman I now considered myself to be.

Okay, I hadn't yet been there, but I was going, okay.

The trick was getting out of the house. I wore the shoes but no socks, and wore a longer skirt over the short tartan one. I wore the blouse, but with a sweatshirt over it, and kept the blazer in a box. I went out to the car and drove down to where Jack lived.

Once I found his place I parked by the side of the road and pulled my shoes off. I put on the white knee socks, then put the shoes on again. I slipped my wraparound skirt off, then pulled off the sweatshirt and pulled on the blazer.

I drove up to Jack's house and parked, then, licking my lips nervously, I got out of the car and walked up to the door. He didn't answer for a while, and I was about to ring again. Then the door opened.

The man who stood there was perhaps fifty, with hair starting to grey. He was tall and thin, with average looks. He wore a black suit with a red handkerchief sticking out of the breast pocket.

"Uhm, hi," I said, not needing to act shy.

"Allison?"

I nodded.

"I am Mister Stone. You will call me that, or sir. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir," I said.

"Inside," he said curtly.

I felt a little annoyed at the arrogant bastard, but then realized that he was playing a character, and I was supposed to be to. I was a shy schoolgirl, so I guess he was some kind of nasty school teacher or other.

This was very kinky!

I started to feel my insides getting hot at the weird role playing as Mister Stone led me down the hall and around the corner into an office of some kind. It was real nice, with tall bookcases around the walls, a leather sofa and fireplace on one side, and a huge old oak desk by the window.

He led me to the desk.

"Did you bring your books?" he asked.

What?

"I uh, I thought you'd supply them," I said.

He glared at me.

"Today's children are utterly spoiled and irresponsible," he glared. "Come around here."

I moved around to the other side of the desk as he sat down in a big old executive type chair. He didn't provide a chair for me, so I guess I was supposed to stand.

He opened a book and leaned back in his chair.

"Read," he said.

I leaned forward to read and he slapped his hand on the table, startling me.

"Aloud!" he snapped.

Act or not I was getting annoyed. Oh well. A thousand bucks is a thousand bucks.

I started reading aloud, some sort of stupid Shakespearean thing. Jack ... or Mister Stone ... did nothing at first but let me read. Then I felt his hand on my back. I did nothing, just kept reading. His hand was on the small of my back. It rubbed me there a little, then moved up.

"Yes, good, good. Continue," he said.

I kept reading, and his hand stayed put for a few minutes, then slid down onto the small of my back again, then, with a slow movement, slid down onto my ass.

I wasn't sure what to do here, but he said I was supposed to be shy and innocent.

I pulled back quickly, twisting away from his hand.

"Mister Stone!" I cried.

"I said keep reading," he glared.

"But I ... you ... "

"I want to make sure you understand the material sufficiently that you can read it even while being distracted."

With a reluctant look on my face, I slowly moved forward again and began reading the book.

"Good. Good," he said a couple of times, his hand sliding around my waist as he bent forward over the book himself.

His hand slid down onto my ass again, and I made myself jerk a bit as if in response, and missed my place in the book on purpose. Then I started reading again, missing the occasional word and trying to put a quiver in my voice as he began to caress my ass through the short skirt.

His hand slid downward onto my bare leg, then started to slide back in under my skirt. I made my voice quiver a little more, and stutter a little more as he slid his hand higher along my inner thigh. Then when he touched my panties I pulled away again, looking at him reproachfully.

He heaved a sigh of annoyance, and I didn't know whether that was an act or real. Well, fuck him, if I was supposed to follow a script he should have written one.

"Allison, come here," he said, pushing his chair back from the desk.

I approached warily, fingers fidgeting together in front of me. As soon as I was in range he reached out and gripped my arm and pulled me around in front of him, then he suddenly scooped me up and pulled me down across his lap.

"Mi ... Mister Stone!" I whined.

"Shhhh," he said, pulling me in tightly and holding me there. I looked down at my lap as if I were embarrassed to be sitting on his. His left arm was behind me, his hand on my left arm. His right hand was on my left leg as he held me tightly in place.

"You see, Allison," he said. "Most girls have problems with school when they're your age. Do you know why that is?"

"Noooo," I said, still looking down at my lap.

"It's because of their hormones," he said. "They run wild and out of control. Boys do too but they're allowed to expel that excess energy in sports and other games. Girls repress it and so are unable to concentrate on their studies."

"You have great potential, young lady," he said. "I'd had to see you getting a D or an F instead of an A just because you can't fully concentrate."

"I ... I'm trying," I said experimentally.

"I know you are my dear," he said soothingly.

His right hand came up and pushed my chin up, then slid my bangs aside. "I know you are," he repeated. "But you can't help it. I would like to help you, though."

"H ... how?" I gulped.

"By helping you release this excess hormonal energy."

"I uh, I get exercise," I said.

"No, no, not just exercise. It has to be a special type of thing, something to release the hormonal energies. I'm an expert in this, you know."

His hand slid up and down against my cheek, then slid lower, down along the side of my neck, caressing the skin there, then moving down, down my front, my upper chest. He opened my jacket and looked in at my blouse, then unbuttoned the top button.

"Mister Stone!" I gasped, reaching for his hand.

"Be still!" he barked. "Can't you see I'm trying to help you!?"

I looked down as if in embarrassment, and he unbuttoned the next button, then the next. I tried to breath harder and faster, but found I was getting light headed. Then I discovered I could make my chest appear to be rising and falling by a minute shift in my back.

I did that instead as he unbuttoned my blouse to the waist and slid his hand inside. He stroked my belly, sighing low in his throat, then slid his hand up under my left breast and squeezed it through the bra.