He fucked her, quite literally, with a vengeance, ramming his cock into her as hard as he could, giving her ass a hard spank every time she asked for one—which was often. Pinned against the counter with him leaning hard on her back, she used what she still had to be of service. Her desperate pleading, her talented pussy, his years of contempt for her. One would have to be blind to think she wasn’t loving it just as much as him, but her occasional shift from begging for more to whimpering and protesting only seemed to heighten the savagery of his fucking.
He paid no attention to whether she’d cum or not—her whore mouth shifted from begging to moaning a few times, so maybe she did. He didn’t care. When he switched to her ass (per her suggestion: “master, your slut’s ass hasn’t been fucked yet, and I know it’ll hurt—don’t you want to hurt me, pay me back for being such a bitch?”) her voice rose almost a whole octave, and she started raving so fast he could barely even understand her any more until she reverted to just shrieking “FUCK YOUR SLUT’S ASS MASTER!” over and over, punctuated only by Please’s and the occasional gasp for breath. She wouldn’t find out for several days yet that her neighbors heard her, and used it to inspire their own love-making. She would soon be the talk of the neighborhood.
She was so loud, in fact, they hadn’t even heard Lauren come in and didn’t know how long she had been watching them. Her banshee wail of horror came right as he was cumming; startled, he turned suddenly and slid out of Morgan’s ass; his spurt of cum launched across the room and caught Lauren right across the chin and neck. Morgan screeched as the surreality was revealed as regular old reality, and ran from the room, her eyes already watering.
Lauren stood across the room, stunned beyond word or action. It was silent but for tiny pat as a small blob of his jizz dripped off her chin onto the wood floor. He couldn’t even read the look on her face, and for a long moment, the two just stared eye to eye, each taking stock of the other. In the end, the stare-off was broken by, of all people, Brianne.
She came in the front door; from her vantage point, she could see DJ standing naked in the kitchen, but not her friend who was just around a corner from the entry hall. “Hey—I see you were expecting me,” she giggled. “The fussy bitch isn’t home, is she?”
Lauren stepped around the corner, glaring daggers at her erstwhile friend. “The fussy bitch is home, you cheap whore.”
Brianne blushed almost as red as her hair, then deeper as she caught sight of the mess on her friend’s neck. “Oh, um, sorry, I was… just kidding. I’ll leave you two…” She back-pedaled to the door, pausing to mouth “call me” to DJ before she bolted.
Lauren watched her go, every muscle in her body rigid. DJ tossed her a hand towel to clean up; it hit her in the stomach and fell to the floor. She looked at him with an inscrutable expression, then spoke in an ice cold voice so softly he had to strain to hear her. “I am leaving now. There’s a home game tonight. I’m not coming home after. Or ever.”
And she left.
Chapter Ten
“This’ll be so fun!” Brittney exclaimed as they pulled up to DJ’s old high school. “I used to go to all the games when I was in school.”
“Dating the quarterback, no doubt,” he said offhandedly, his mind mostly on other matters.
“My freshman year, and my junior year. Sophomore year was the state-ranked tight end, and when I was a senior there was Dave, who was running back. Then Aaron the linebacker, then I was dating Mitch, who was actually on the basketball team, by the time football season ended.”
DJ arched an eyebrow, but didn’t otherwise comment. He was still working on a plan, something he’d not done much of late. So much of what had been happening just seemed to happen. It was complicated by being unsure of exactly what he wanted.
Only a few hours ago, his step-sister Lauren had caught him fucking her mother Morgan, heard her beg for more, debase herself and squeal like a little bitch on his cock. Compounding matters, Lauren knew full well that he’d fooled around with her best friends earlier in the week, curvaceous Jody and leggy Brianne. (All that aside from her amazement that be’d brought home a hot piece of ass like Brittney to begin with.)
She’d fled the house, vowing to never return. Still, he knew tonight was a big home game, and as one of the senior members of the cheerleading squad, he couldn’t imagine her missing it. She’d been in cheerleading since elementary school, and was only kept from the captain position because of some petty political squabble with Taylor Strehan, a conniving viper of a girl if ever there was one. Even as he got out of the car and escorted Brittney into the stands, he was unsure whether he felt bad for shattering her bubble of innocence, or pissed off for her having the audacity to tell him off.
It was already nearly half-time as they entered, and he immediately saw Lauren clapping her hands and calling out inane cheers with the rest of the squad. It made him regret not having gotten a cheerleader uniform for Morgan; they were spitting images of one another, displaced in time by what to the eyes was at most a decade, even if it in reality was more like twice that. Her curly hair was bound in a pony tail high atop her head, and the uniform showed off her toned stomach, athletic legs, and as he kept watching, the occasional glimpse of her rounded butt encased in the electric blue panties.
How strange, to have someone pick your underwear for you based on your high school’s colors.
Could he apologize? Did he have anything to apologize for? Jody and Brianne certainly seemed happy with his treatment of them, and Morgan had cum harder than any girl he’d ever been with. Still, it must not feel that way to her.
Really, as he tried to be honest with himself, he was worried any confrontation would end with her impaled on his dick just like her friends and her mother. DJ hadn’t thought of Lauren that way before, though he wasn’t blind—he knew she was drop dead gorgeous as well as she knew it herself. But it was clear even to him that his power was increasingly going to his head. He’d not wanted to fuck Morgan initially either, but that had happened, and in hindsight he didn’t even regret it.
Increasingly, knowing he wasn’t supposed to or allowed to do something had become his biggest incentive for doing it.
There was Lauren with her fellow cheerleaders, most of whom he’d known to varying degrees for years as they came over for pool parties and sleep-overs. While they were a diverse lot, and some were as yet too young for his tastes, there were some knockouts down there with her. At this point, DJ didn’t even trust himself to go talk to Lauren without having them stripped naked inside of the first two minutes and finish the game cheering in the buff. (It would do wonders for attendance, no doubt.)
After sitting through two touchdowns stewing in indecision, DJ finally decided that he just needed to confront her and let things work themselves out. Alone—he didn’t need another thirty-four tits and seventeen asses there to distract him. Plus two tits and an ass on Brittney, whom he left in the stands with some money for concessions and a promise to be back before too long.
It didn’t take much pushing to get access to the stadium’s PA system. He wrote down a message and arranged to have it read in a few minutes, then hustled back out to the parking lot. Sure enough, he soon heard a loud voice calling out that a dark green Toyota Prius had left its lights on in the lot, then a repetition. From his vantage point near her vehicle, he saw his step-sister make apologies to her squad, then hustle in his direction.