(Videll Dais) New
Strong Persuader (FF/M, reluc, Lez, cheat.)
by Videll Dais
"If you're that short of cash," Margaret said, "why not do some part
time modeling. I have a photographer friend who pays good money. He's
always looking for new models." "I couldn't do that," Sandy said, looking
aghast at her best friend's suggestion. "What would Dan say? You know how
jealous he is. Just the thought of another looking at me would set him
off." Margaret shrugged. "What the eye doesn't see, dear," she said.
"He's working in Germany so how will he know? I certainly won't tell him."
"I couldn't take that chance," Sandy shook her head, her long curls
tumbling around her pretty face. "He'd hit the roof; probably divorce me
or something. Besides, I haven't got the looks or figure for modeling."
"Are you kidding?" Margaret asked, a sarcastic note to her voice. "I'd
give my right arm to look like you. Most women would. You're a
twenty-year-old with the face of an angel. You're tall, slim; you've got a
lovely firm bust and a nicely shaped bottom. All your curves are in the
right places. Believe me, you've got what it takes. You could earn
yourself a small fortune in no time." Sandy blushed. She was shy, modest,
relatively naïve, and not used to frank appraisals or compliments even from
her best friend. She made more coffee for Margaret, quiet, thoughtful for
a while. Placing a fresh cup on the kitchen table, she said, "How much
does your friend pay?" "Ah-ha," Margaret smiled. "Not such a bad idea
after all, eh?" Sandy grinned. "I'm just curious that's all. I'd never
actually do it." "No, of course you wouldn't," Margaret said, with obvious
disbelief, a slight smile playing around the corners of her painted lips.
She sipped her coffee, lit another cigarette. She tossed back her mane of
black hair, exhaled a cloud of aromatic smoke and said, "The need for money
can sometimes be an overwhelming persuader, Sandy, so don't try to kid an
old kidder. For fashion work, the rates are anything from twenty to forty
pounds per hour depending on experience and demand. But there's rarely a
vacancy in that line. Paul requires nude work right now and you're talking
serious money. I know he pays a minimum of a hundred and fifty per
session. More for the adult stuff." Sandy looked astonished. "Wow, that's
a lot of money." Margaret nodded. "Just for taking your clothes off." "I
couldn't do it," Sandy blushed. "Not in front of a stranger anyway." "Of
course you could," Margaret said, flatly. "I did." "You?" Sandy was
surprised. "You never told me." "You never asked. I've been doing it
quite a while. My figure's not as good as yours, but for my age, I get
by." Sandy giggled. "God, Margaret. You're only twenty-six and there's
absolutely nothing wrong with your figure." "Twenty-six is by modeling
standards darling. Things are beginning to droop a bit and I'm getting
thick around the hips. You, on the other hand, could easily pass for
sixteen, seventeen. That's what they want these days, young, innocent
looking with svelte bodies." "I couldn't pose nude, though," Sandy
said, "not for any amount of money." "You undress for your doctor don't
you?" Sandy frowned. "That's different altogether." "It's no different at
all," Margaret tutted. "The doctor's a professional. So is Paul. He
doesn't see you in a sexual light when you're undressed. All he sees is a
model; a woman doing a job." "Nevertheless," Sandy said, "Dan's the only
man who's seen me without clothes. I could never allow a complete stranger
to photograph me naked no matter how much money he's willing to pay. I'd
be too embarrassed for a start." "You could begin by doing lingerie or some
glamour first," Margaret suggested. "What, pose in my underwear you mean?"
"Yes. Or a bikini," Margaret smiled broadly. "That wouldn't be so bad as
being stark naked would it? You don't mind prancing around the beach in a
bikini do you?" "Well, no, but..." Sandy broke off. She blinked, averted
her emerald green eyes from her friend's enquiring expression. She dropped
her gaze coyly to the tabletop and her empty coffee cup. "I don't know,"
she said, thoughtfully. "Maybe. Maybe not." Margaret stubbed out her
cigarette in the silver ashtray. "Well, I'm only trying to help," she
said. "At least think about it. Once you're used to Paul and the camera,
maybe later you could work up to showing off a little bit more. Whatever,
it would still be good money." "I'm tempted," Sandy admitted, "but I'd be
much too nervous." "What about...?" Margaret paused, silently turning over
an idea in her head for a long minute. Sandy waited, finally saying, "Spit
it out then." "Well, what about if I give Paul a ring, arrange an
appointment for you to do a test shoot, and go along with you for moral
support." Sandy made a face, biting at her lower lip. "Oh, I need the
money, but don't know if I could go through with it. What if Dan should
see the photographs? He'd kill me." Margaret smiled. "Oh, Sandy. You're
just looking for excuses. You've been eighteen months and already
you're becoming a kept woman. Be your own person. He doesn't own you.
Besides, how on earth would Dan ever get to see the photographs? You worry
too much. Say you'll give it a try. I'll be there with you and if you
don't like it or think it's not for you, no harm done." Sandy thought it
over a moment longer. "Okay," she nodded. "I'll give it a try. Make the
appointment." "Wonderful!" Margaret shouted, laughed and clapped her hands
together. "Didn't I say money was the great persuader? Don't forget to
wax your bikini line, girl. I just know you'll be a big success."
Paul Stoat lived up to his name and was nothing like Sandy had imagined.
The was about forty, short and squat, with thinning, unruly gray hair,
and small, squinting eyes set in a face that reminded her of a stoat or
weasel. He was unshaven, and untidy wearing just a loose over shorts
and sandals on bare feet. Sandals? He had quite a beer belly, was forever
biting his nails and never seemed to be still for a second. Sandy wrinkled
her cute nose. How distasteful, she thought. He appeared hardly to notice
her at all as he ferreted around his dimly lit studio busying himself by
constantly fiddling, adjusting lights, cameras and other equipment.
Margaret saw the consternation on Sandy's face and whispered in her ear.
"Don't judge him by his looks or manner. He's very good at what he does."
When he was ready, he came over to Sandy and Margaret. "Okay, Maggie," he
said, talking directly to her. Apart from a quick head to toe appraisal,
he just about ignored Sandy. "You know the routine. Take your friend in
the other room to change. You'll find swimwear and underwear in there all
clean and new. We'll do the swimwear shots first, okay?" In the changing
room, Sandy sat on the edge of a single bed piled with various articles of
clothing, most of it sheer, skimpy and very sexy. She heaved a long sigh.
"God, my insides are churning. I'm not sure about this." "Relax, Sandy."
Margaret stood in front of her friend, placed a hand gently on her
shoulder. "You'll be fine. Paul may seem a little abrupt and distant, but
believe me he's carefully noted all your qualities. If you didn't meet his
requirements, we'd be in the car and on our way home by now." "Oh, I wish
we were," Sandy said. "I can't stop shaking." "Don't worry. We're all
like that when we're starting out. I was. It's only natural. Come on,
get undressed. We mustn't keep Paul waiting." Sandy grabbed the hem of her
T-shirt, hesitated. Eyes wide, she looked up at Margaret inquiringly.
"Oh, come on, Sandy." Margaret made a gesture of hopelessness with her
hands. "Surely you don't mind undressing in front of me. God, you've got
nothing I haven't seen before." A moment later, Sandy was sitting in just
jeans and bra, a thin, lacy affair that pushed her small, firm together and upwards revealing a striking of lightly freckled,
pale, creamy flesh. The cups were almost transparent and her pink, erect
nipples could clearly be seen through the material. Trying not to stare
too much at her friend's delightful charms, Margaret offered encouragement.
"There," she said, "nothing to it. Now the jeans. Quickly." Blushing
furiously, Sandy stood up. She fumbled with the fly of her 501's and slid
the garment over her rounded hips, down her thighs and long legs and
stepped out of them. She tossed the jeans on the end of the bed with a
casualness she was far from feeling. Enviously Margaret eyed the snug
white cut low across Sandy's slightly rounded belly and high on her
hips. The left most of her friend's bottom bare, each full cheek
taut, smooth and unblemished. God, she looked positively ravishing. Sandy
turned her back as she unfastened her bra. She let the garment slip down
her arms and placed it with her jeans. As she reached for a bikini top,
Margaret glimpsed perfect orbs hard as apples, tipped with sharp, excited
nipples. The white soon whispered down Sandy's long legs to reveal
a sprinkling of neatly trimmed pubes covering her full mount leaving
the girlish line of her sex clearly defined. She quickly replaced them
with a string bikini bottom that could hardly be called decent; a fact
Sandy was quick to point out. "This thing is far too small. It barely
covers me, Margaret. It's awful." Sandy, red-faced, nervously fidgeted and
tugged the clinging material into place around the bulge of her prominent
crotch. "It's fine, Sandy, you look absolutely stunning," Margaret said,
unashamedly eyeing her friend's natural assets. "I've told you before, you
worry too much." Sandy frantically adjusted the miniscule bra to cover as
much of her delightful as possible. She was fighting a losing
battle. The small, v-shape scraps of cloth only just hid her nipples
leaving much of the creamy globes exposed. "Worry too much? God, that will be able to see practically everything I've got." "He sees a lot more
than that every day, dear," Margaret admonished lightly. "He'll be looking
at the whole picture, not focusing on any particular part of you. Just
relax, think of the money, and try to enjoy the experience. It's really
easy once you get in to it." Turning to face Margaret, a blushing Sandy
touched at her tumbling curls and said, "Okay, I'm as ready as I'll
ever be. Let's go before I lose my nerve altogether." After a rather
tense, slow start, the next hour passed reasonably quickly with Sandy
posing more easily, changing effortlessly into different brief costumes,
and gaining in confidence with each passing minute. It wasn't long before
she lost her initial apprehension, felt quite at ease and actually began to
enjoy playing up to the camera. Even when Paul Stoat adjusted her poses,
placing his hands briefly on her bare arm, bottom, belly or thigh, Sandy
hardly noticed the man's close proximity or almost uncommon familiarity
with her body. It was smiles all round when he eventually turned to
Margaret and said, "I like her. She's beautiful and a natural." They had a
fifteen-minute break. Sandy and Margaret had a cup of coffee and chatted
enthusiastically about the session. "I found the lights a bit bothersome,
at first," Sandy said. "Made me all hot and sweaty." "Oh, you were hot all
right and it had nothing to do with the lights." Margaret said, teasingly.
"I think you were turned on especially when Paul touched your bum a couple
of times." Sandy reddened. "Really, Margaret. That's a horrible thing to
say." She glanced over her shoulder, lowered her voice almost to a whisper.
"I don't find him in the least bit attractive." "You were definitely turned
on, dear. Maybe it was just being near naked in front of us and the
camera," Margaret suggested. "It's happened to me before." "I wasn't
turned on." "Not even a little bit?" "N-No." Sandy's face was positively
incandescent. "Well, it certainly looked like it to me - especially when
you were stretched out on that sun lounge," Margaret was grinning wickedly.
"Arms over your head, legs spread indecently wide. That costume didn't
hide much at all. Paul and I could see most of your delicious little
pussy." "Margaret! Really! Stop it!" "You were turned on. Admit it." "I
wasn't." Looking utterly embarrassed, Sandy covered her blushing cheeks
with her hands. Enjoying the teasing, Margaret continued to push her
friend. "Come on, Sandy. You can tell me. Didn't you feel just a tiny
bit sexy? Just a teeny weenie bit itchy down there?" Sandy groaned. "Oh,
all right," she said, resignedly. "If you must know, yes. I was turned
on. But only a bit." "I knew it." Margaret, pleased with winning her case,
couldn't resist remarking on how much fun Sandy was having. "You're a
latent exhibitionist. I told you it would be the easiest money you'd ever
earn didn't I?" "Yes, okay." Sandy said, still blushing, her eyes demurely
lowered. "You were right again, as usual. No need to rub it in." Both
girls laughed. Paul Stoat came over and interrupted, reminding them it was
time for the underwear session. He turned to Margaret. "Have you told
her?" Margaret looked unusually coy. "Eh, no, Paul. Not yet." "Well,
might be good if you tell her now and get yourself changed." Frowning,
Sandy fixed a slightly bewildered gaze on Margaret. "Told me what?" Paul
Stoat turned and went back to his cameras immediately making himself busy.
Margaret crossed her arms, grabbed the hem of her loose top and pulled it
up over her head. She wasn't wearing a bra. Her were magnificent.
"Margaret - what are you doing?" "Paul needs both of us for this session,"
Margaret said, quite unabashed by her semi-nudity. "It's a special shoot for a big customer of his; a home shopping catalogue. We're required
to look sexy and be photographed holding various sex toys. It's easy.
Come on, let's get changed." Sandy looked appalled. "Sex toys! "Yes, you
know, rubber cocks, vibrators, and so on." "God, why...why didn't you tell
me? What if...?" "I didn't want to scare you off, sweetie," Margaret
interrupted, entering the changing room, casually slipping out of her
bikini pants. Sandy couldn't help staring at her friend's bald pubic
mound. God, it looked like a girl's, the slit a smooth indentation,
the skin pale and clean. Margaret noticed her friend looking at her sex
and smiled. "As a rule, Paul likes his models shaved," she said. "If you
do more stuff for him, he'll want you to shave, too. Stockings,
suspenders, bra and knickers first, okay?" "Margaret, I'm not sure I want
to do this," Sandy said, sounding none too pleased. "You should have told
me. I don't want to play with rubber things and...and whatever." "Oh, come
on, Sandy," Margaret said. "Okay, I'm sorry I sort of sprang it on you,
but don't let me down now. It'll be fun. Really. You'll soon relax just
like you did for the bikini stuff. It's all very tame. Think of the
money, dear. Here, put this on." Margaret passed Sandy something small,
unrecognizable, made of stretchy black netting. Sandy couldn't help
staring at her friend's naked body, taut and curvaceous. "Supposing I
refuse," she said, defiantly. Margaret was rolling a black nylon up her shapely, tanned calves. She paused, looked up at Sandy, a serious
expression on her face. "Then," she said, slowly, "you won't get paid for
what you've already done and that would be a complete waste of time
wouldn't it. Now put the undies on and let's get on with it. No more
moans and groans, okay?" Sulking, Sandy began to remove the bikini she was
still wearing. "Okay, you win. I will do it, but under protest. Next
time, just don't spring any more surprises on me." "Good girl," Margaret
smiled, adjusting the second around the top of a round, firm
thigh. "I knew you'd be up for it."
The set was laid out to represent the interior of an exotic bedroom.
There was a large bed covered with a white counterpane, an ornate, matching
bedside chair had been placed on a white fur rug on the floor. The whole
scene was shrouded in a lot of hanging white lace. The lights were tinted
giving the scene a warm, pink look. Several of the "toys" were already on
display on the bed. Paul Stoat was in his usual place behind a on a tripod. Margaret seemed to know the score. "Right, Sandy, you
stretch out on the bed. Make yourself comfortable." She held a hand over
her eyes to shade the glare from the lights. "What do you want first,
Paul?" She called into the darkness beyond the lights. "Or do you want me
to play it by ear?" Stoat's voice came from somewhere amid the deep
shadows, cool and to the point. "Just do what you've got to do." Margaret,
looking every inch a sex goddess in a black two-piece bra and g-string set,
and black stretched out on the bed beside Sandy. Propped on one
elbow, she smiled down into the beautiful face of her nervous friend.
"We'll start with these," she said, magically producing a pair of fur-lined
handcuffs. "Stretch your arms above your head." Sandy hesitantly did as
Margaret told her, watching curiously her friend secured her wrists,
snapping the handcuffs closed around each of her wrists. "Not too tight
are they?" Margaret asked. "N-no," Sandy said. "They're okay." "Good.
Now up, push your out. Close your eyes and relax, sweetie,"
she said. "All we've got to do is act the part for half an hour and we'll
be done." Sandy was taken completely by surprise when Margaret quickly
slipped the miniscule triangle of material of her bra aside, and gently
cupped a warm hand over her bared left breast, pinching the nipple to an
immediate erection of tight, excited flesh. She gasped with shock.
"Marg-!" "Shush, now. Paul likes us to have hard nipples for these types
of shots," Margaret said, smiling as she gently palmed the firm round
globe, working the nipple between thumb and forefinger. "He also," she
said, "wants a bit of playacting - like we're actually using these gadgets.
Forget he's there and just have fun, okay? Remember, you're being well
paid." "You never said ... anything about t-that! Stop it!
P-please...S-stop!" Sandy blushed hotly as her nipple responded instantly
to Margaret's deft manipulation. Dan had been away in Germany for five
weeks with his job and she was missing the physical side of their
relationship badly. He was a very switched on lover and it wasn't easy for
a newlywed to return to enforced celibacy after regular nightly sex.
Apart from a couple of fumbling lads at school (on the outside of her
clothes) and her husband, nobody had ever touched her like this,
especially not another woman and certainly not a woman who could press all
the right buttons. "I-I just can't allow you to - oomph!" Sandy's protests
were rudely interrupted as Margaret leaned heavily into her, effectively
holding her down, and fastened soft wet lips over her own. Her mind reeled
in confusion as Margaret's tongue slipped expertly into her mouth. "Mmm!"
Sandy squealed. Struggling with her own inhibitions and her friend's
persistent demands, she placed her secured hands on Margaret's shoulders
and shoved, trying to push her off. Margaret held on to Sandy, working her
tongue deep into her friend's mouth. She made to improve her
advantage by tugging the skimpy bra free from both Sandy's delicious
springy breasts. She cupped a pliant orb, thumbing the turgid pink nipple
After what seemed like an age, Margaret breathlessly broke the kiss. "Wow!
I enjoyed that didn't you, Sandy? You taste like fresh peaches." Sandy
exhaled a gasping breath. "God..." she uttered, struggling still against
Margaret's intimate embrace. "W-what's going on? What do you think you're
doing?" "What d'you think I'm doing, Sandy? I'm kissing your lovely lips
and playing with your gorgeous tits. We have to look as if we're enjoying
it. Paul insists. I'm going to put these little sucker things on your
nipples. Don't worry; they won't hurt. Just pretend you're really loving
it." "I don't want ...Ah-Oh! S-stop!" Margaret had no intention of
stopping. She'd been dying to get the lovely Sandy into a sexy clinch like
this for a long time and aimed to take the fullest advantage of it. Eyes
bright with desire, she pinched each of her friend's nipples hard, exciting
the tight buds into stalks a half-inch in length. Almost without pause in
her attack, she fixed a small glass suction cup onto both teats. Each cup
had a tiny rubber bulb attached that, when pumped, exerted any amount of
pressure. Margaret worked the bulbs and watched as Sandy's nipples
extended impossibly longer, up into the cups. Margaret said, "These
suckers are supposed to feel very stimulating." She robustly worked each of
Sandra's nipples, smiling with undisguised glee as her friend wriggled and
squirmed, sexily rolling her smooth creamy-skinned belly, enticingly
opening and closing her long stocking-sheathed legs. "Can you imagine?"
Margaret went on, ignoring Sandy's gasps and struggles. "Women actually
purchase these things to excite themselves. Poor dears. Having said that,
though, judging by how excited your nipples are I'd say they're doing a
rather superb job. You can put some on my next, Sandy." Listening to
Margaret being so crude, so sexual, was having quite an effect on Sandy.
She was utterly shocked at how quickly her body was becoming aroused. The
tingling in her clamped nipples and the queasy feeling in her belly had
stepped up a notch and, worse, she could feel a warm dampness between her
thighs. She groaned loudly, splayed her legs in an effort to rise, get up
off the bed and away from Margaret who, it seemed, had completely lost her
mind. "Margaret - please!" Sandy pleaded. "This has to stop. I-I...I'm
not sure I like this. That is watching us. He...he's gloating. Let
me up, please. For God's sake!" "Now you just stay put, sweetie," Margaret
said, her right hand slithering over the concave smoothness of Sandy's
belly then under the thin band of knicker elastic, finally coming to rest
fully over her prominently bulging mound. Sandy squealed, clamped her
thighs tightly together over the probing fingers and tried to wriggle free
from Margaret's embrace, but her efforts were thwarted by Margaret's
surprisingly heavy frame pinning her down. Sandy squeezed her thighs
tighter together and drew her knees up, "Margaret! No! Take your hand
away!" But Margaret's hand was not to be denied. Quickly a deft finger
sought the moist divide of Sandy's soft, pouting sex lips. "My, my! Are
we excited or what? You're is soaking, darling. I think maybe now's
the time to demonstrate another of these exotic sex toys don't you?" "Oh,
s-stop...STOP! P-PLEASE! MARGARET!" Sandy cheeks flushed. She groaned,
squeezing her thighs together, her hips instinctively rising as Margaret's
finger slipped back and forth along the soft, slippery in-rolling cleft of
her sex-lips, exerting just enough pressure to spread them easily apart.
In the next instant, Margaret was diddling the rising bud of Sandy's oily
clit, her finger moving over the hard little nub like a demented eel.
"There," Margaret whispered, "does that feel nice? Your clit seems to like
a tickle. I think you're getting hot again, Sandy. Very hot." Sandy's
belly trembled as a wave of sensual excitement flowed like an electric
current from her clit to her and back again. She couldn't believe
Margaret was saying the things she was saying, actually touching
her...right there! Or how responsive her body was despite her reluctance.
She gasped for breath, thought for one awful minute she was going to faint.
How could this friend she loved and trusted almost as much as her own
husband behave in this fashion? And in front of a man! A complete
stranger! "Let's get these knickers off. You won't be needing those for a
while." "NO! MARGARET - NO PLEASE! DON'T! DON'T TAKE THEM OFF!" Margaret
wasn't listening. She tugged Sandy's down her thighs, then down to
her ankles and off. Sandy sat up, but Margaret pushed her gently back down
again, held her manacled hands above her head out of the way leaving the
gorgeous girl's exquisite body naked and defenseless. "Don't be silly,
Sandy," Margaret whispered, her tongue flicking into the girl's ear, while
her hand played freely over her exposed and spiked nipples, giving
the bulbs on the suckers another squeeze. "Just lie back. Relax and
enjoy. Leave everything to me." Sandy gave up her pointless struggling,
laid still and let Margaret do virtually whatever she liked to her. She
felt as though both her nipples were being constantly and vigorously upon. Her and nipples tingled under Margaret's expert hands, and
she felt a wondrous churning sensation deep in the pit of her writhing
belly much as Dan made her feel when he made love to her. This can't be
happening to me, she thought feeling her cheeks burning. It just can't be
happening. Margaret was whispering in her ear again: "Open your legs,
Sandy dear. Come on. Don't fight it. We have to demonstrate these sex
toys. Open your legs darling." Sandy felt Margaret cup a palm over her
mound again, her long fingers prying, snaking between her tightly clasped
thighs, seeking out her sex, her traitorous clit, making her feel things no
one but her husband should make her feel. "Open your legs, Sandy. Come
on. Don't make me force you. Do as your told." "No - please... Don't do
this..." "Don't be silly," Margaret said, licking wetly along Sandy's jaw
line, up to her ear, back again to her sweet mouth, her tongue probing,
seeking weaknesses. "Let yourself go. Relax. Enjoy. There's only the
two of us here. Let me play with your lovely cunt. Let me make you like you've never before. You need it. You know you do." With a small
whimper, Sandy trembled, closed her eyes and relaxed her thigh muscles,
allowing Margaret to separate her legs, push them wide apart. "Good,"
Margaret said, her lips close to Sandy's, her breath warm on her face and
the curve of her neck. "That's much better isn't it? Let me give you
pleasure, lot's of pleasure." Sandy flinched, then groaned as Margaret's
finger traced a fiery path along her slit down to her anus and back again,
back and forth, slowly. Then the finger sought her secret entrance, her
honey pot, her hot slick interior. Sandy's full lips parted, she gasped
and groaned again as the digit easily slipped up her, burrowing deep into
her cunt. She couldn't believe how wet and open she felt. Another finger
joined the first and Sandy's hips and belly began to move involuntarily
with the slow in out, in out motion. Oh God, she thought, I'm letting
Margaret do me in front of that horrible Paul Stoat. He's filming
everything! He can see every bit of me! Everything! How utterly
disgusting but, disgusting or not, the more she thought about it, the more
excited it seemed to make her feel. She was panting now. She couldn't
help it. The sensations flowing through her body were incredible.
Margaret smiled as she watched the little beauty writhe to her fingering.
"Oh yes. You like that don't you, sweetie? A nice deep, slow finger fuck.
Feels good, huh? Really get's the juices flowing doesn't it?" Margaret
tugged up her own bra. Her full, round spilled free, the nipples
large and spiked. She cupped a fleshy orb with her free hand and pressed
the erect nipple to Sandy's lips. "Suck my tit, sweetie. Suck on it for
me." Without realizing precisely what she was doing, panting through her
nose, Sandy opened her moist lips and fastened on the offered nipple,
nipping it with her teeth before it deep into her mouth and
flicking her tongue around the fat nub. "Oh God, yes! That's it. Suck on
it for me, baby. Suck that tit." Sandy's rounded buttocks flexed, her
belly and mound moving in perfect rhythm against the hand, the probing
fingers. Her nipples felt huge, the suckers seemingly trying to suck her
entire up into their tiny nozzles. She was floating on a tide of
carnal lust, sensations sparking all through her body. She groaned as
Margaret removed her fingers from her inflamed quim. Somewhere close by
Sandy became aware of a high-pitched buzzing noise, but didn't make a
connection as to what it might be at first, then she felt something
quivering, something fat and round parting her slippery lips. "Oh,
Jesus!" She gasped, as Margaret eased the huge vibrating cock into her
cunt, in and in, deeper and deeper, stretching her wide, filling her like
she'd never been filled before. "OOH MY GOD!" "That's it," Margaret
panted, her own excitement mounting. "Take the cock up your cunt. Fuck
that thing, baby, get yourself off. Show the people how these toys really
work. Fuck it! Come on. Fuck it!" Margaret slid the huge cock almost all
the way out of Sandy's tight sheath then fucked it back into her again and
again and again. Sandy, quivering, thighs spread wide and tense,
belly heaving, bucked and writhed as the huge cock pumped in and out of her
fiery flesh. She was nearly there, nearly at her peak. Margaret slid the
dildo out for the last time, leaned her weight over Sandy and pressed her
lips hotly over the girl's mouth. Sandy was still writhing, squirming;
seeking the ultimate release. The kiss was long and deep, tongues battling
tongues, both breathing in pants and gasps. Margaret raised herself and
looked down at the incredibly turned on, the passionately gorgeous redhead.
She fondled the tight again, fluttered her hand down over her
moist, gaping cunt, darted a finger into her, then another and viciously
finger fucked her again. "Tell me what you want, baby. Tell me what you
want!" Sandy groaned, her head rolled lazily from side to side as she
raised her hips and mound up to the probing fingers again. "Yes, come on,
tell me what you want!" Sandy's eyes half-opened, were glazed and distant.
She looked into Margaret's leering face. "Please..." she said. "Oh,
please..." "What? What is it, sweetie? What can I do for you?"
"Please..." Sandy whimpered breathlessly, rolling her smooth belly.
Smiling, Margaret worked her fingers gently and deeply up Sandy's hot,
tight cunt, stirring her juices and her lust, stoking the fires ever
higher. "Tell me what you want, darling. You can do it. Tell me and I'll
give you heaven." "Oh, Mar-Margaret," Sandy whispered, "please... Ooh,
make me c-cum. MAKE ME CUM!" Margaret pumped her fingers as Sandy closed
her eyes and threw her head back, stretching, poking her to the
ceiling, spreading her thighs ever wider. Once again, Margaret removed her
fingers from the hot, slick flesh and pressed her weight over Sandra,
gluing her lips to the redhead's. Sandy on Margaret's tongue, was
dimly aware of hands on the backs of her quivering thighs, big, rough hands
raising her legs, bending her knees up to her breasts, raising her arse,
spreading her ever wider. She felt the bed dip, a warm presence of warm,
hard and hairy flesh brush against her bent thighs. Again a fat, smooth
thickness pressed against her hot, moist labia. It skimmed lightly back
and forth, up and down her slit; setting off starbursts of sensation in the
pit of her stomach each time it nudged her swollen clit. The plump
tumescent helmet lodged at the rim of her gaping entrance a second before
spreading wide her lips and sliding smoothly, very deeply, into her
clasping wet sheath. Sandy moaned, gasped against Margaret's lips and,
pinned and helpless as she was, could only give herself up to the surging
inrush. She felt her vaginal canal stretching, filling up with the full
throbbing length of turgid meat. "Ooh God!" "There you are sweetie,"
Margaret whispered, her breath hot on Sandy's grimacing face." That's what
you've been missing, a nice fat cock fucking you blind. Does it feel good?
Does it?" Even as Sandy realized it wasn't Margaret's dildo, that this time
it was a warm, living, flesh and blood cock (and that it could only belong
to the revolting Paul Stoat!) that was plugging her to the full, she had
time only to groan a feeble, ineffective protest before raising her mound
against the wicked inward thrust and quivering to an explosive orgasm. "Go
on, Paul. I delivered what you wanted now fuck her and fuck her hard,"
Margaret encouraged, eyes glued to the hot action. She reached a hand into
her own knickers, worked her fingers into her swollen, wet cunt. Paul
Stoat pounded his throbbing cock into Sandy's tight, slick sheath
relentlessly. "Jesus! She's superb," he groaned. "What a fuck! What a
fuck!" "Yes! Yes! Give it to her, Paul," Margaret goaded, her hips
bucking, fingers wanking herself to a swift thigh-quivering orgasm. "God,
I love it! I love it!" "Stop!" Sandy gasped. "Please...I'm a woman. Stop!" "Shut up, you stupid bitch," Stoat gasped, his long cock
plundering the woman's tender, clasping insides, his balls slapping against
the curve of her bouncing arse. "You want this as much as I do. Why deny
your gorgeous body what it needs? Enjoy, baby. There's plenty more where
this came from. Agh! Jesus, that's good! Yes! YE-ES!" Stoat came,
pumping hot spurts of viscose deep into Sandy's pouting sex just
as a second orgasm exploded through her writhing frame. She screamed out
her involuntary pleasure. "Ooh GOD!" Later, as Margaret smilingly gave
Sandy her money, she said, "Paul wants you back here tomorrow, sweetie. A
client wants some anal stuff." "No fucking way, Margaret," Sandy snapped,
glowering with anger. "You tricked me into on my husband,
adultery. There's no way I'm ever coming back here and you can consider
our friendship over with. I don't want to see you again." "Not so fast,
Sandy. Everything that went down here this afternoon is all on video.
Every frame of living color shows you fucking your little heart out and
having a real good time. You might want to think about that before you
make any firm decision about not coming back." Margaret smiled, a
meaningful look in her cruel eyes. "Are you threatening me?" "Not at all,"
Margaret said, shaking her head. "All I'm saying is Dan could get to see
the results of your wonderfully enthusiastic work today. What would happen
then, sweetie? Think he'd forgive your indiscretion? Think you'd just
kiss and make up and it'd all be forgotten? I don't think so." "You
wouldn't show Dan that tape." "Try me." "You bitch!" Sandy's eyes filled
with tears of frustration and anger. She was beaten and knew it. "Call me
all the names you want, baby, but you will be back here tomorrow for your
second session." Margaret turned away and began dressing. After a while,
she turned one more time to Sandy and said, "There is one consolation:
Because you'll have to work for your money, Paul pays double for anal.
Don't worry. It's sounds worse than it is. Once you get used to being
reamed in the arse, you'll love it."
***
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