Finally, she realized he wasn't screwing her any mote. Collapsing to the floor, she felt the coldness of the tile on her hard nipples and throbbing tits. This brought her back to reality more than anything else could have. She rolled over and looked at Dwight Bryon. A shit-eating grin crossed his face as he gazed down at her. It was a smile of complete satisfaction.
"You're one hell of a back-door man," Caroline told him.
"And you've got one hell of an ass to go with those fine legs. I could have fucked you the rest of the day."
Caroline Saunders almost wished he could have, too.
CHAPTER THREE
"Well, honey, how'd it go?" asked Peter Caldwell.
Caroline stared at her boyfriend lounging so lazily against the fender of his car. She didn't know how to answer him. She was still sore up the ass from the feel of Dwight Bryon's cock, and the beautiful young girl simply knew that the station manager's jism must be all over her trembly lips from when she'd sucked him off. She wore her guilt like a set of new clothes.
"Oh, uh, okay, I guess."
"You guess? What went wrong, darling? Tell me. Tell old Peter everything and I'll make it all right, I promise."
He took her in his strong arms and pulled her close. Caroline tried to get away, but the man wouldn't let her. He tightened his grip until she felt as if steel bands had closed on her waist.
"I blew it, Peter. I really did. I got nervous and the videotapes will be terrible and everything went wrong. I shouldn't have gone in there. I was so embarrassed!"
"Hey cool it. Everything'll be just fine." His thick finger dipped under her chin and raised her face to his. He kissed her. Caroline almost panicked then. What if he tasted the other man's jism on her lips?
"Peter, please. No!"
"You are upset, aren't you?" the man said. "Well, don't let it get you down. I'm sure you did fine."
"Mr. Bryon did say I had a good chance at the job." Caroline didn't go on and explain why. How could she tell her boyfriend that she'd sucked off Dwight Bryon and then let the man fuck her up the ass? She'd been turned on by the older man, the mature, suave way he approached her, the sureness in his manner. He'd been sure she wanted to suck him off. He'd been sure she was going to let him greek her.
Damn him!
"That's great! That calls for a celebration. Dinner out. That fancy place you've been wanting to go to. And then…" He let his words trail off in a sexy invitation.
"The new restaurant? The one on top of the hotel? Oh, Peter! You're too good to me!" She squealed, threw her arms around his neck and kissed him. Gone was all thought that he might taste another man's salty come on her lips.
"I know it. But what the hell? We only live once, right? And you getting the job calls for a big celebration."
"I don't have the job. Not yet."
"You will. Have some confidence, baby. Real confidence in yourself, your abilities."
Caroline drifted through the evening with Peter in a happy daze. Maybe what her boyfriend said was true. Maybe she did have the job in the big. But the nagging thought always came back. Did Bryon think she'd let him screw her up the ass like that only to get the job? She'd been turned on by him, a lot. He was handsome, strong, dominant, everything a woman wanted in a man. And his cock! She lifted her perky ass off the seat several times during the evening to rub over the smooth curves where his hard prick had driven in to find her shit chute.
Caroline finally decided that Dwight Bryon realized she was just nervous – and turned on, that there wouldn't be any more fooling around if she did get the job. And with that thought in her mind, she let Peter lead her up the sidewalk to his house.
"A nightcap, my dear?" he asked in his silkiest voice.
"Is that a proposition?"
"An indecent one," he agreed.
"I think it's very decent," she said, moving closer, her hand rubbing along the bulge in the man's pants. She liked what she felt there. His cock was growing. His balls lurched and tumbled wildly, the thick stew of his jizz begging for release.
The mood Caroline was in, she'd give him that release – and enjoy every second of it herself!
"Let's go inside. And hurry," she whispered hotly.
"Why?" he asked, teasing her.
"Because I want you inside me!" she cried. Together they laughed and spun through the open door and into Peter's living room. The lights were on, casting a subdued glow throughout. This gave Caroline an idea.
She pulled away and pirouetted for him. He marveled at how good she looked. Wishing for a good night's sleep would do no good now, the man realized. She was playing with him like a fisherman plays in a hooked fish. He couldn't help but respond to the sexy sight of her trim body, slender flashing legs – and the promise buried between them.
He leaned back and waited for, the first stirrings in his prick. It might take a couple minutes, but he'd wait. He'd have to. She wouldn't let him alone until they'd fucked.
The sight of Caroline dancing was worth the time. Her tits were well-fleshed, but not too big. More than a mouthful, a good handful, but no floppy tits. He appreciated the fact that the beautiful young girl didn't have to wear a bra. Her tits were firm and ample. And enough to make his mouth water.
The rest of the package was well worth study, too. Her hair was flung away from her creamy shoulders in a glorious screen that masked her face, made her appear mysterious and desirable.
Peter got a charge out of watching her dance so erotically for him. She spun around and around, her hips waggling to a beat heard only by the two of them. She did a fantastic bump-and-grind routine.
The way her ass flared out caused tiny tingles of sensation to come into his cock. He knew she was working her special charm on him. Peter was patient. In a few more minutes, he'd be erect and ready to fuck the living shit out of her. Just watching the heavenly blonde girl right now was enough to give him pleasure. He could feel the stirrings already that told him that they would fuck all night long once he got it up and into her hot little pussy.
"I wanted to be a stripper when I was a kid," she told him. "I thought it was a sexy thing. Don't you agree?"
"I think you're damned sexy – and drunk. I knew you shouldn't have had that second bottle of champagne. But you've stolen the show if you'd gone into that business. It's for the best, though, that you didn't."
She put her hands on trim hips, thrust her ass toward him. "Why was it for the best I didn't become a stripper? Don't you think I've got what it takes?"
"You've got more 'n what it takes. The other girls would have been insanely jealous. And I'm selfish. I wouldn't like having to fight off thousands of horny admirers to get to you."
Caroline pranced around, her legs smooth and slender. Then she struck another pose, this one positively lewd. Caroline seemed to be peering at him between her legs, her ass and pussy completely exposed. Her cunt lips beckoned to him. His cock jerked once, then began to inflate as excited blood pounded into it.
She'd finally gotten him hard.
"You can't see the vision I'm seeing now, but it's great! And feel this!"
He took her hand and placed it on his slowly hardening cock. She smiled broadly as it stiffened under her careful stroking. In another minute, he sported a raging hard-on. He was ready for a real fucking.
"To bed!" she cried.
Before he said a word, she pulled hard on his hard prick. He had to follow her. The firm grip she had on his cock never lessened. She used it to make sure he didn't go wandering off and leave her alone and horny.
"There!" the young blonde said. He landed flat on his back, rocking slightly as the springs on the bed worked overtime to take his muscular body.
Before he could move, Caroline scrambled onto the bed and was straddling his waist. She hovered over his erection. With her hand guiding his hard prick, there was no way she could miss out on all the enjoyment.