Still, he left her her her shorts. So there was still a physical barrier to her pussy.
That night, between being a little stir crazy from being locked up in the house all day and wanting to give himself some distance from temptation, he decided to go out. He hit up a little coffee place he’d frequented in high school and brought Brittney along. They chit-chatted, did homework, frittered time away on their laptops. The place was still popular with the younger crowd, and he reveled in the incredulous looks tossed in his direction for the blonde goddess at his side.
He was still there when Jody texted him again.
where u at? went 2 ur house but u not in jerk
I didn’t know to expect you. You blew me off the other night.
u were bein gross
Well nothing’s changed. You wanna talk, get out your camera and show me you’re serious.
A long pause.
how do i know u wont show pic 2 ppl
You don’t.
cmon where u at i make it worth while
Ta-ta’s or ta-ta, Jodes.
Thirty seconds later, she replied. There was an attachment, Jody’s enormous and impressive tits, her forearm stretched out to hold the camera. fine u fucker now cmon quit bein a dick
God you’re hot. I’m at the Riverside Café.
And ten minutes later, she was there. And five minutes after that, they were in the basement and he was fucking her while she smothered his face and over-flowed his hands with her titties. He teased her about who the pig was now, with her throwing herself at a guy she didn’t even like in a coffee shop, squealing and moaning as she came harder than she ever had before. At her insistence he pulled out before he got off, standing over her and unloading on her face and tits. Again. She called him a mother fucker and kissed him. Then the blonde fingered herself while he worked over her nipples until she came so loud everyone in the coffee shop overheard, and was out the door before he was even dressed again.
Thursday, he had Morgan doing a deep-cleaning of the house in nothing but a g-string she borrowed from her daughter, who had still not returned home. Twice that day, as she curtsied and yes-sir’ed him, he turned to Brittney and bent her over without a word and fucked the daylights out of her. The second time, in the living room, he told Morgan to dust the room while he drilled Brittney from behind; he stared at her ass unblinkingly the whole time.
That afternoon, he went and booked a hotel room and didn’t even bring Brittney. Brianne texted him again, coyly making chit-chat; he told her he was busy for the night but to help herself to Brittney. He fell asleep around 3am, staring at the ceiling, hard as a rock, and his dreams were all of fake tits and g-strings.
He made a list of errands for Morgan and texted it to Morgan Friday morning so she’d be out of the house most of the day. Back home, Brittney greeted him warmly; she told him about Brianne’s visit last night. They’d spent most of the time sixty-nining, though it seemed Brianne shared his affinity for breasts, and Brittney’s were exemplary.
“She did ask me to give you a message,” she said at the end.
“Yeah, yeah, she’s welcome,” he responded dismissively.
“No, not that—well, that too. But she said next time you better be here, too. These high school girls can’t seem to get enough of you, I swear.” Brittney giggled.
“Well, they better enjoy it while it lasts—we’re heading back to school Sunday.”
When Morgan returned home from her errands, he had her completely naked inside of 20 minutes. He found himself following her around the house, at intervals pinching and cupping her butt cheeks, tweaking her nipples, caressing her hips, eventually even teasing at her pussy lips. She was good and wet; perhaps long days as DJ’s mostly-naked maid had worn her down too. She moaned softly, patiently letting him finger her, humping his grip, even as she mumbled a feeble “no, please don’t” without breaking rhythm. With a great effort, he pulled back and took a long, cold shower.
He should have fucked Brittney—she was always good for letting him work out some sexual frustration. Or called Jody over, or gone to Brianne’s. Or found any cunt at all but the one that was clouding his mind to the point of blinding it to desire for any other.
As he stood watching her hand-wash the dishes, her round butt undulating softly from the motions of her hands, he snapped.
He took off his clothes wordlessly, then approached her from behind, his cock nestled between her buttocks. She stiffened in surprised, but a gentle probe of her nethers revealed her pussy to be just as ready as it had been earlier. “Tell me you want this, Morgan,” he spoke softly in her ear.
“I want this,” she whispered. The muscles in her cunt contracted around his fingers.
He bent her down roughly over the sink, her cheek resting on the metal partition between the two sides, her black curls drooping down into the soapy water. She moved her feet shoulder-width apart.
“Ask me for it.”
Her eyes closed, breath released in a shuddering sigh of anticipation and fading, weak resistance. A blade of tall grass before the lawn mower. “Please fuck me.”
DJ gave her ass a hard slap that echoed through the house, followed by an even louder yelp. “Ask right, bitch.”
The sound that passed her lips then was something like a whimper, but in it he heard with strange definitiveness the utter death of Morgan’s pride. She was completely his now—not like Brittney or Jody, girls who’d found a way to rationalize and enjoy his attentions. Morgan was his bitch. Her value was that she could be broken.
“Please fuck me… master.”
She let out a long slow moan that lasted the entirety of the time his cock took to slide all the way into her—and it certainly took its time. It was his first time with an older woman (and a mother at that), but her pussy still felt just fine to him. He took hold of her hips and used his grip to help pull her back to meet his thrusts. His balls slapped loudly against her thighs in the otherwise quiet house.
Her silence earned her a few more hard spankings, and he halted his thrusts. “You don’t sound like you want this. Remember, your whole purpose in life now is to make me happy—do your fucking job or I bring this to a stop, and we spend a little time re-training you.”
“No! No, I want it, master.” This time there was less of a hesitation with the final word. She bucked her hips back against him vigorously, and the walls of her pussy squeezed down around him rhythmically. This was a talent none of his girls had had as yet; perhaps she’d have to teach them.
As his thrusts slowly resumed, her begging continued in ever-increasing pitch and volume. “Please fuck me, master. My whole body is yours—I know that now. I’m your slut—do whatever you want to me. Fuck your slut’s pussy, master. Please, fuck your slut’s sloppy wet cunt, master!”
As her inelegant pleading continued, he conceded to her request and resumed fucking her. She didn’t smile; she didn’t moan. She just held onto the counter-top for balance and begged him not to stop in an unending litany of increasingly self-debasing terms. “I’m such a stupid little slut, master, thank you for fucking me” and “please let me make you cum, master, let me earn my keep” and “I’m sorry I’ve been such a selfish cunt and haven’t made my pussy available before, please punish your slut’s naughty ass!”