textfiles/sex/EROTICA/B/bkml_1-5.txt

                   I-I  Blackmailing the Queen  I-I



[Chapter 1 - Ann Ascends the Mountain]

Ann Macafee was one of those girls you dream about but never get.  

She hung around with the "in" crowd, which was a mixture of atheletes,
college-preps, and the stars of the drama club.  You could see them at every
lunch hour, all clustered around the big live-oak in the central quad, an
invisible barrier of distain for all non-members seperating them from the
general rabble.  We all hated them.  We all wanted to be them.  They were
the elite that just naturally floats to the top of every high school.

Ann Macafee was their Queen.  She was the female lead of nearly every play
the school put on.  She dated the star of the football team (I know, that
sounds corny, but it was true) and hung around with the
kids-who-are-rich-and-will-be-richer.  Her family lived in the foothills in
a house that was just this side of an estate.  She had it all, and she was
beautiful.

Her beauty had that casual, effortless look.  Her short brown hair, fine and
fresh, framed a face that was almost a perfect match to that girl whose
father owns the hotel in Twin Peaks (I say that now, though of course back
then there was no Twin Peaks).  Her body, always clothed in expensive wools
and tweeds, was perfectly proportioned.  Her firm high breasts looked like
the models by which all other breasts are designed.  Her round, tight ass
gave only slightly when she perched on a chair.  She had straight, dainty
posture, and perfectly manicured hands.  She was, in every sense, a perfect
little doll.  And she knew it.

Some people can put you down without saying a word - by the way they look at
you, or avoid looking at you; or simply by the way they carry themselves.
Ann was a perfect example.  She was better than us, she seemed to say.  She
would glide through the halls, aloof and apart, her face a mask of calm
seperateness, until she would spy another of the elite circle and her
expression would break into a smile of pure warmth.

For most of my junior year I had suffered a devastating and quite secret
crush on Ann.  I was not a part of her life, of course.  I was no nerd, but
my friends were as I was, a part of the masses.  I was a fairly good-looking
young man, well built and handsome, or so I was told by the girls I dated,
but I did not posess that magic glamour that permitted access to the higher
circle.  Ann never looked at me, never met my eyes.  We were lab partners in
chemistry, and somehow she still managed to avoid any kind of interaction.
The few times I tried to make a joke or start a conversation, she withered
me with total disinterest.  It was horrible.

By my senior year I was pretty much over it, though.  I had enjoyed a pretty
successfull summer, sexually speaking, and this had boosted my confidence to
the point that I no longer needed an Ann Macafee.  Oh, I still appreciated
her lovely long legs on those days she wore a skirt, and I still let my eyes
roam her breasts when the weather was warm and she wore thin silk blouses.
But my obsession was over.

I thought that she would never enter my world.  But everything changed when
I discovered that Ann led a secret life.

It was early in my senior year.  I had driven up to the top of Mt. Ervin,
which is a popular make-out spot for the highschoolers.  I was working on a
project for my photography class, and had gone up to Ervin Park to take some
long-exposure shots, showing the stars streaking across the sky over time; a
very common thing for amature photographers to do.  I did not want to be
seen near the parking lot with a camera, since that was where the kids
parked, and no one would be too happy if they saw me bopping around with my
Nikon.  I had taken a few girls there myself, and I know I would have been
pissed.

So I had hiked down the hillside and was approaching a small clearing I knew
of, where I planned to set up the tripod and start the timed exposures.  The
spot was quite sheltered from the parking lot and the road, which was
important to me since a passing headlight would ruin my shot.  As I got
within earshot of the clearing, I heard voices talking low.

"Shit" I whispered to myself.  Someone was using my spot - I didn't know
anyone else knew about it.  I had taken Linda Short there to fuck her, and
had not been worried since I was sure it was a private spot.  Now I knew
differently.  I crept up quietly and peered from behind a bushy tree.

It was Ann Macafee, there with Bill Arnold.  I was totally shocked; Bill was
known as sort of the school hoodlum.  He wore heavy metal T-shirts, engineer
boots, and torn levis pretty much all the time.  He was just the sort the
Ann would avoid like disease, yet here she was with him, at night, and in a
very intimate spot.

They were kneeling over something and talking in hushed tones.  I could not
tell what they were doing at first, then Bill lit a small candle.  I saw the
mirror on the grass, and the razor blade glinting on its surface.  Aha, I
thought:  Cocaine.  Now everything made sense; Ann liked coke (okey, that
was suprising, but not insane) and Bill was certainly the most likely source
for drugs on campus.

I could not make out what they were saying, but Bill's face was full of
mischief.  Ann looked very anxious as she stared at the coke he was forming
into a line on the mirror.  He did the line, then sat back, his vial of coke
in his hand, and stared at her.  Finally, probably out of frustration, her
voice rose to where I could hear it.

"Come on Bob.  Lay out a line for me.  You said you would."  She still held
her usual expression of superiority, but there was a quivver of desperation
in her voice that told me coke was not a casual thing for her.

"Maybe I will.  Wha'cha gonna do for me, Annie?" Bill said, leering at her.

"Fuck you!" Ann said and looked away.

Bill chuckled.  "Yeah, that's pretty much what I had in mind.  Pussy for
coke.  Not a bad deal, when you consider how much this shit costs.  I'll bet
you've got a tight cunt..."

She whirled on him, but her anger caused her to drop her voice into a hiss
and I could not hear what she said.  They spoke in low tones for a while,
and it seemed to me that some sort of negotiation was going on.

They came to an agreement, and Ann said "God, you're a shit.  Alright, fine,
let's get it over with."

Bill sat back on his elbows and smiled again.  "But you have to take it
out."  When it looked like she was about to protest, he added "or no deal,
Annie."

"Stop calling me that," she said, trying to remain the Queen.  But she
reached out, lowered his zipper, and took out his cock, which was stiff as a
pole.

I could not believe this, even though it was pretty obvious that he wanted
some kind of sex from her.  His cock was average in length, but fat, with a
slight bend near the had.  It had the vaguely bruised look that comes from
frequent use.  She gripped it lightly with her right hand and began to jerk
him off.

Bill moaned, then began to sprinkle some coke on the mirror with one hand
while propping himself with the other.  When she leaned forward to take the
mirror, he stopped her.

"This is the worst handjob I've even had, Annie.  Either you'd better get
into it, babe, or no snow."

She looked pained and embarrased, but she leaned into her work on his dick
and began stroking with both hands.  Bill was obviously enjoying her
attentions, but I could tell by the look on his face that he was not going
to settle for this.

I was incredibly turned on, watching this pristine queen jacking off the
school hood.  There she was, expensive knit skirt and cardigan sweater, on
her knees with a bent dick in her hand, stroking it.  She'd obviously given
hand before, which did not suprise me - that's probably all girls like her
did.

I smiled to myself when I rememberd my Nikon was hanging around my neck.
Thanking my lucky stars for putting me here with a camera, and without my
noisy autowinder, I began to slowly click off pictures, pacing myself so as
not to run out of film.  The candlelight was more than adequate, since I had
brought fast film.

Click - Ann giving Bill a handjob.

Bill stopped her again, and she obviously thought she was going to get her
coke because she looked relieved.  But he whispered something and she stood
up, turned her back on him, and angrily stomped away a few strides.

"Come on, Annie," Bill said, teasing her.  "It's fair.  Blow for blow. Coke
for cock.  Besides, your handjob sucks."  He laughed, obviously amused by
his choice of words.  "I mean, it doesn't suck.  Hey, that's the problem!"

His glee was disgusting, but I was loving this.  

Click  - Bill standing with his dick sticking out, Ann turning to look.

"If you think I'm taking that... thing in my mouth, you're crazy."  Her eyes
were darting between his hard dick and the coked mirror on the grass behind
him.

Bill's face suddenly dropped into a serious expression.  "Wise up Annie.
Nobody has the coke connections I do, and you're in need.  Besides, " he
said, narrowing his gaze, "we're alone here.  I could lay you down and fuck
your brains out if I wanted to.  A little head won't kill you, and I promise
to give you the coke afterwards.  I'll leave your pussy alone." He was
stroking his cock with one hand as he spoke, keeping it hard.

Her voice was very shakey now.  "Oh, come on Bill..."

"I want to," he interrupted her.  "I want to come on.  I want to come on
you.  Now you can open those sweet lips of yours or we can wrestle and see
who is stronger.  I don't mind.  Either way, you get your coke and I get my
nut."

His look was deadly and serious.  Ann obviously knew she was cornered. I
briefly considered stepping out of the shadows to save her - Bill was a
hood, but I was quite a bit bigger than him.  Maybe she'd reward me for my
gallantry.  Then I remembered all the withering looks she had given me over
the years...

Click - Ann kneels before Bill.

Click - Ann takes Bill's dick into her mouth.

Bill began to pump his skinny hips almost immediately as Ann took his
obscene dick in and out of her little mouth.  She gave the impression of
some experience, though not a lot.  She let him slide the bent thing in and
out, covering her teeth with her lips, but I did not see any tongue action,
nor did she move her head laterally at all - these would have been signs of
a good cocksucker.  Like Linda Short.

Bill did not seem to care.  I clicked off a series of five shots showing Ann
with varying amounts of Bill's dick in her mouth, then he grunted and
hissed.  He obviously began to come, for Ann violently pulled his cock from
her mouth and tried to lunge away.  Bill grabbed her hair and held her in
place, so that his long streams of sperm landed on her face, hair, and
sweater.

After he had finished coming - which was a subject of two particularly good
photos in my series; Ann with come flying toward her face, Ann with come
hanging off her chin - he chuckled and ler her go.  She grabbed her purse,
and stepped off into the bushes, spitting and dabbing her face with a
kleenex.

While she was gone, Bill began to chop up the coke with the razor blade and
draw it into a line.  He added a second line, and then a third. When she
returned, he smiled and handed the mirror to her with one hand and offered
his straw with the other.

"Here you go, Annie.  Nice job - I gave you some extra lines, you're such a
good little cocksucker."

She glared at him, refusing his straw.  She had her own - a sign of a true
cokehead - and she turned her back on him, sat down, and did the lines.

Click - Ann snorts cocaine while Bill stands behind, shrinking, wet dick in
        his hand.

Click - Ann smiles at the mirror, Bill milks his dick behind her head.

Click - Ann snorts another line while Bill drips his last dribbles of sperm
        on her hair, she oblivious through her haze of coke.

The deal done, Ann was in a real hurry to get out of there.  She was
probably afraid that he'd try to rape her anyway, but Bill was obviously
spent to the point of disinterest.  He had retrieved a beer from his
shoulder bag and was taking long pulls at it while he played with himself.
He paid her no attention as she gathered up her stuff.

I suddenly realized that I was standing on the path she was about to take
back.  I crouched down quickly in the darkness - she passed by within two
feet of me without noticeing.  Her perfume was almost strong enough to cover
the smell of Bill's crotch, though not quite.  The whole scene had given me
a raging boner and it was a little uncomfortable squatting in my tight
jeans.  As soon as she was out of sight, I rushed back to my car and headed
home.


[Chapter 2 - Seeing What Develops]

No darkroom at home, and the school closed until monday, I put my precious
roll of black and white film in a safe place and tried to make the time pass
quickly.  I'd taken the photos on friday night, and saturday I had a date
with Theresa Mills.  I thought about cancelling it, since my mind was filled
with distractions, but then I remembered how nice a distraction Theresa
could be, and I took her to the Lake.

Theresa was catholic, so her limits were pretty firm, but she had nice tits
and let me fondle and suck them while she jacked me off.  All I could think
of as she stroked my cock was Bill Arnold's dong in Ann Macafee's hand, and
later in her mouth.  I'd asked Theresa for a blowjob before and been turned
down, but I asked again.  Her refusal, the sweet lie that it was ("I'd love
to suck this nice dick for you, but it's just too big for my little mouth"),
was all the more frustrating.  I wanted to imagine it was Ann sucking me.
Oh well.  I told her I was going to come and she increased her tempo and
brought a wad of kleenex to the tip to catch the flow.  Such a well-prepared
girl.

I rubbed her tits and french kissed her, two things she never seemed to get
enough of, and she jacked me off again about a hour later.  It was a nice
date, but it did little to relieve my delicious tension.  All I wanted to do
was develop that roll of film.

Sunday crawled by, and I hardly slept that night.  I went in to school as
early as I could, waited for the darkroom to open, and cut my morning
classes.  I was aware that my haste could ruin this priceless piece of film,
so I deliberately made myself slow down.  I went into the blackout booth and
loaded the reel with the film.  Twice my fingers slipped - loading a reel by
hand is no easy trick under the best of circumstances - but I finally got
the strip into the can and delevoped it with painstaking attention to time
and temperature.

The negatives were perfect.  They were so crisp, so defined.  I could not
believe my luck.  I was aware of how dangerous it was to print anything when
at any moment an instructor or a student might glance over to see what I was
doing, but the darkroom was pretty empty and I just had to make a contact
sheet at least.

I let the negs dry, then cut them into strips of six.  I laid them onto some
glossy stock and made a contact print.  I developed the thing face down,
maddening though that was, and squeegied and dried it that way.  I did not
look at it until I was alone in a stall in the boys room.

What a treasure.  Ann's look of concentration as she stroked that cock.
Ann's pretty lips stretched around that thick, bent cockhead.  Ann's averted
eyes and submissive posture as the come dripped off her chin. I drew out my
hard dick and came in four slow strokes, my come pouring into the toilet
bowl.  If only that could be my dick, I thought.  If only he had convinced
her to fuck him, or even just to strip - I'd love to have photos of those
tits and that pussy...

In the calmness that follows a good orgasm, I reflected that I could get in
real trouble if anyone saw these photos.  Of course, there was no way to
link them to me unless they were found on my person, still...

Then I grinned.  I grinned probably the biggest grin of my life.  Me get in
trouble?  Not anything like the trouble Ann could get into.  I had her.
Boy, did I ever.  A vast and limitless universe of possibility opened before
me.  I had her taking coke and giving head to a sleazebag.  "Ah, sweet
mystery of life, at last I've found you," I said quietly to myself.  Such a
warm feeling to anticipate the future, when such vistas of pleasures lie
ahead.

I quickly returned to the darkroom and made a second contact sheet,
dangerous though that was, then put the negatives and one sheet into an
envelope and went home at lunch to hide the package inside the air vent
grille in my room.  I did not hide the second contact sheet, though.  I had
big plans for that one.

I wrote on the back of the sheet:

"Dear Ann.  These photos will enjoy a wide distribution to the police, your
parents, and the school population at large unless we can reach an
agreement. Imagine hundreds of copies of the picture with Bill Arnold's dick
in your mouth or Bill Arnold coming on your face, distributed all over
campus. Imagine pictures of you snorting coke being sent to the cops.
Imagine a copy of this contact sheet finding its way to your father's
office, or to your home and your mother.  If you wish to avoid all these
things, meet me at the Fish and Chips shop in the Sanderson Mall today after
school.  We can discuss my terms.  Don't worry, I can be reasonable, but
don't imagine I am bluffing.  I have nothing to lose by publishing these as
8 x 10 glossies."

I folded the sheet into four and put it in an envelope marked "Open in
Private!".  I went back to school, cut another class, and, when I was sure I
was not being observed, slipped the envelope into her locker through the
vent.  At first it stuck, and I paniced a little, but a little
back-and-forth action made it slip right through.

I waited until the next bell rang, then stood across the quad looking
through a telephoto lens at Ann's locker.  The hubub of the between- class
activity hid me perfectly, and after two minutes or so I spied her heading
toward her locker.  She looked just as she always did, aloof and superior.
I could not believe that such a debasing scene did nothing to change her
attitude, but she clearly still held herself "above it all."

Just for a few moments longer, Ann, I thought.

She opened her locker and the envelop fell to the ground.  I must have
gasped a little when another girl picked it up, looked at it, and handed it
to her.  She said something, probably intended to be witty, but Ann frosted
her with a snooty look and the girl walked away.  Ann read the envelope,
closed her locker, and walked over to sit on the planter that surrounded the
flagpole.  Checking to see that no one was near, she opened the envelope and
unfolded the sheet.

She must have opened it to the photo side first, because her face went
white, her eyes grew large as saucers, and she clasped the sheet immediately
to her chest to hide the side where the photos where. She looked around
again, frantic, then noticed the writing on the reverse side.  She stuffed
the sheet back into the envelope without reading it, then ran off to the
girls room, looking a little ill.

I chuckled to myself.  Ann looked about as un-superior as a person could,
stumbling frantically off to the bathroom clutching sex photos of herself.
I knew she was going there to read the note, to scan the photos again in
disbelief.  I knew she was scared and suffering, and in the darkest reaches
of my heart I felt great.  She was, I guess, a symbol for all the elite
people of the world, to me.  She was the embodiment of all the things a
normal person never gets to have.

Well, this time it was going to be different.  Very, very different.


[Chapter 3 - Modus Vivendi]

I sat down in a back booth and ordered a bowl of red chowder.  I was a bit
nervous - confrontation has never been my strong suit - but something about
the quality of this event had brought out my ruthless side.  Under normal
circumstances I would have been tongue tied around a girl like her.  Now I
was in charge, and there was nothing that could change that.

She entered the shop about 5 minutes after the final bell would have rung -
I had cut all my afternoon classes too.  I was amused to think that she must
have hurried indeed to get here so soon after school had let out.

She looked around the shop, but most of the tables were empty.  It was
primarily a lunch and dinner place, and I knew it would be pretty empty for
at least two hours.

She finally spotted me, and I held my camera up and winked.  I could not
tell if she recognized me, but I doubt it.  She'd done such a good job of
ignoring me, I doubted she was even sure that I went to her school. She
strode up purposefully and sat down angrily in my booth, facing me.

"Are you the guy who left those pictures?" Her voice was a furious whipser,
but there was a lot of fear there.  The anger was clearly intended to give
her courage and perhaps bully me into giving in.  No chance...

I smiled.  "Photography is my life, 'Annie.'  Of course, I don't usually
take those kinds of pictures..."

"Sure!" she spat.  "I'll bet you creep all night long spying on people like
that, you pervert!"

"I'm a pervert?  Maybe you better look at those snapshots again."

"Oh, fuck off!"  Her voice was a high, nervous squeak.

"Take care, now, Annie.  You don't want to get on my bad side, now DO YOU?"
I pointed my finger at her and stared her down.

She looked at me with a stunned horror.  Our voices were low, but I imagine
no one (except maybe Bill Arnold) had ever talked to her in such a tone,
especially no one from the great unwashed masses, like me. She was beginning
to realize that I had her and I knew it.

She looked down at her expensive leather shoes.  "Um, no.  I guess I don't.
OK, OK, I'm sorry."  She was silent for a moment.  "What is this all about?"

"That's better.  Now, I have the negatives to those photos and I can make
all the prints I want.  What can you offer me to make it worth my while not
to do that? I mean, imagine how fun it would be to see a fucking little
princess like you get dragged through the shit." She looked up at this, her
eyes sad and shocked, but her face as lovely as always.  "If I'm going to
deny myself that pleasure, I have to have something to replace it."

"What kind of something?"  Her voice was a whisper, her eyes locked onto
mine.

"A better something.  Something very, very pleasant.  Something like you
gave Bill Arnold."

She bit her lip and shook her head.

"Something even better, perhaps."  I smiled the smile of the cat who ate the
canary.

She closed her eyes for a moment, then suddenly opened them and smiled. The
smile was the sort of familar, cosy smile she usually reserved for her
fellow elite, and she beamed it at me with all the energy she could muster.
"Oh, come on, be a sweetheart.  You saw what that slime made me do.  Haven't
I been through enough?  Besides, you look like a nice guy - you don't want
it like that, you know, forcing me to, do you?"

She batted her eyes and tilted her head.  A curl of honey brown hair drifted
over one eye and her face assumed a look that was at once innocent,
friendly, sexy, and strong.  Looking back, it is of course obvious that she
was trying to manipulate me through those same charms that had kept her on
top of the pyramid for four years.  But at the time I was only 16, and very
suceptible.

She saw the hesistation in my face, and tried to press the advantage.

"There's no reason we can't be friends, is there?  I mean, do a girl one
little favor.... uh..... um....."

Her smile faded a bit, and I realized that she was trying to remember my
name.  We'd been in school together since the second grade, had even been
lab partners, and she had never taken even enough interest to remember my
name.  The spell broke.

"Forget it, Annie," my voice was strong and I could see that she knew I was
not going to play.  "No, this is going to be business."  Her espression fell
into one of complete despair.

I recognized the look - it was very much like the one she had given Bill
Arnold when he threatened to rape her if she did not come across with a
blowjob - but there was a difference.  Though she was defeated, she was not
disgusted, or at least not as disgusted as she had been then.

I spread my hands out on the table and sat back in my seat.  "Now," began,
businesslike and firm, "you're a rich kid.  Your parents probably own a
summerhouse or some rental properties or something, right?"

"What?"  She was visibly shaken.  Shocked at her failure to charm me, she
was beginning to see the reality of the situation.

"There must be some place where you can go when you want to party - a
boathouse or a cabin or something..."

"No, I..."

"Don't lie to me, Annie.  That would be a truly major mistake."

She was quiet for a moment, and a tear leaked out of her left eye and ran
down her face.  "Uh, well... our carriage hou... our garage... is seperate
from the house and has a... a furnished attic."

"Where the chauffeur lives?"

"We're not that rich.  It's for that, though, I guess.  There's a kitchen
and a little living room..."  She paused for a moment, then looked at her
shoes again.  "And a bed... room."

"Perfect.  You have a key?"

"No, but I know where it is.  My dad used to use the rooms as a den, kind
of, but my mom thought he was taking girls there and she put the key away in
her jewelry box."

"Good.  Get it tonight and make two copies tomorrow at lunch.  Meet me here
after school and give me one of them.  I'll give you further instructions
then."

She looked devastated.  "You want a _key_of_your_own_!?  How long is this
supposed to go on?"  Her voice was choked.

I smiled and looked her straight in the eye.  "As long as I say, Annie. Now
be a good girl and do what I said.  Or else."

She muttered a very childlike, pouty "OK" then got up and practically ran
away, her arms crossed over her chest as she ran...

I sat there for minutes afterward, basking in glorious delight and hard as a
post in anticipation.


[Chapter 4 - Afternoon delight]

I arrived at the Garage apartment at 4:00, expecting to find her there. I
checked to make sure I was not seen, then entered through the side door and
up the plain wood staircase to the rooms above.  The same key that had
opened the side door opened the door to the main room, and the musty smell
of the place told me how long it had been unused.  But it was basically
clean.

Ann was not there.  At lunch I had told her to be there by 3:45 and to wait
for me.  She had seemed totally cowed and I was disturbed to find that she
had disobeyed.  Had she decided not to show?  I could make good on the
threats, of course, but the truth was that though she may have believed me,
I looked forward to having her as my playmate far more than the prospect of
ruining her by distributing the photos.  I was not even sure I would
actually do it.  She was so pretty, so doll-like and cute, I'm not sure I
could bring myself to shit on her like that, bitch though she certainly was.

But the point was rendered moot when she appeared in the doorway.

"You're late," I said.

"Sorry, I'm really sorry.  My mom saw me coming up the walk and wanted to
talk to me about some stuff.  Then I had to wait until I could sneak
away..."

"Fine, fine," I interrupted her.  She was really apologizing to me! This was
delightful - she was actually accepting the idea that I was in charge here,
and she had a responsibility to obey me.  She must really be afraid of those
pictures, I thought.

"Now, to the matter at hand," I said, closing and locking the door behind
us.  "Stand there in the middle of the room and take off all your clothes."

She bit her lip and winced a little, but moved to the center of the living
room and began to strip.  First came the shoes and stockings - I was
suprised to see she did not wear pantyhone, but old fashioned stockings and
lacy garters.  Rich girls, I guessed.  Next she took off her sweater and
blouse, then stepped out of her skirt.  She did this all very slowly,
obviously trying to keep the ultimate moment away, but I did not mind.  It
made her look so gracefull and lithe, and I wanted to bask in the moment
anyway.  Finally, she stood there in her lacy white bra and plain cotton
panties, the latter with little pink bows at the sides that matched the pink
ribbon in her hair.  She stood for a moment, her hands trying to cover
herself without appearing to do so, and seemed to be unable to continue.

"Everything Annie.  Take it all off now."  My voice was even and calm, but
definite.

"One favor, please?"  She was actually begging, something I imagine she'd
never done before.

"Maybe."

"Don't call me Annie.  That's what that slime Bill Arnold called me. Call me
Ann."

"We'll see.  If you do a good job and you earn it - but for now you're
Annie.  Now get naked."

She held her breath for a second, then let it out and undid the front clasp
on her bra, sweeping it away with one hand and laying it on the little sofa
with the rest of her clothes.  I cannot tell you how I felt, seeing those
breasts that I had fantasized about for so long.  They were so perfect, so
round and high, and with large nipples that looked so completetly suckable.
I nearly came just looking at them.  When she bent over to remove her
panties, they hung taut below her, then did not sag one iota when she stood
again, panties in hand.

And then she was naked before me.  Her pussy hair was a neat, perfectly
trimmed little triangle of light brown - even more lovely and delicate than
I had expected.  She had an ideal figure, her smooth tummy and slim waist,
her flawless creamy skin, her dancers legs.  Nude, she was still a perfect
doll, an ideal girl.

She was shaking a bit, but I could tell that she was resigned to this. "All
right," I said, "Now undress me."

She stepped immediately forward and began to unbutton my shirt.  "No," I
said, "on your knees, Annie."  She dropped to her knees, and had to reach up
straining to take off my shirt.  Then off came my shoes and socks, again
piled neatly next to hers on the sofa, then she undid my pants and stuggled
to get them off (levis are hand to remove from a standing person), but
finally succeeded.  All through this her face was calm and businesslike, but
her breathing was becoming rapid, and there was a flush creeping over her
chest and upper arms.

Finally she took off my briefs.  My dick, hard and straight as a post,
sprang out and hit her on the cheek, and she stared at it as she lowered the
underwear to my feet and I stepped out of them.  My dick is a bit on the
large side, especially compared to Bill Arnold's, being very close to nine
inches long (and I was so hot that day I would not be suprised if it were
ten) and very thick.  I am uncircumsized, though that was hard to see with
the foreskin retracted so completely.  I could not remember ever feeling so
hard in my life.  My dick stuck straight out in front of me, like a baseball
bat at the ready.

"Jesus, you're huge..." she whispered, and I could see fear in her eyes.

I just smiled and dropped to my knees, my dick bopping her right breast on
the way down, then brushed her hair away from her face and placed my hands
on her wonderful breasts.  She hissed in her breath a little as I massaged
her nipples, then I released them.  "Go get the sofa pillows, Annie.  On
your knees."

She walked on her knees the two steps to the sofa, and pulled the pillows
off.  I had her place them on the floor, then I laid back and got
comfortable.  She knelt motionless at my feet.

"Lay beside me, and let me feel those titties," I said, "and you can get the
feel of my cock while I do.

She walked on her knees to my side, then laid down on her side next to me,
while I was on my back.  This gave me access to her left breast only, so I
made her turn slightly to expose them both.

As we lay there on the old green carpet, I squeezed and stroked those
magnificent breasts, thumbing the nipples and pinching them lightly until
they were fully erect.  She took my cock in her left hand and began to
stroke it, her fingers not quite touching her thumb as she grasped it with
her small hand.  Her touch was warm and exciting, but she did not really
know how to give a proper handjob, and I had no desire to teach her.  I
pushed her onto her back and began to suck her nipples, first one, then the
other, while my hand slipped between her thighs.  She gasped as my fingers
probed her pussy, but she was very wet, and her clit was engorged.

I stroked and sucked her for perhaps five minutes, revelling in her body,
then sat back on the pillows and guided her face to my cock.

"Now, let's see if you really are a `good little cocksucker' Annie," I said,
still tweaking her nipples.

She flashed me a look, but then opened her mouth and took the head of my
cock between her lips.  She began sliding it in and out, perhaps two inches
of length total, covering her teeth with her lips.  It felt very nice, but
it was not a good blowjob.

I pushed her face off my dick.  "No, that won't do,' I said.  "You've got
lousy technique.  You're too mechanical.  You've got to make love to my
cock, really go at it."

"Look," she began, "I'm taking this thing in my mouth, so don't..."

"Shut up!" I snapped, and she fell silent.  "It's not `this thing,' it is MY
cock.  This kind of blowjob I can get from my hand.  Now, cover your upper
teeth with your lips, your lower teeth with your tongue, and let that tongue
swirl the underside of my cock as you suck.  And let my dick get plenty wet.
Use some suction, and move your head from side to side as you go, with some
passion.  Now and then take it out and lick it.  And I expect you to suck me
a lot deeper."

"Deeper?  How can I?  My mouth was full as it was.  You're too big."

"I guess you'll have to work something out.  Oh, and use your hands to jack
the shaft and fondle my balls while you suck."  I leveled my gaze at her,
"Now.  Get back to work."

She took my cock in her mouth again, and this time was much better.  I could
feel her tongue playing along my glans and she applied a good amount of
suction as her head bobbed up and down.  She still was takeing only two or
perhaps three inches, but the feeling was wet, warm. and wonderful.

I put her left hand on my dick and her right on my balls, and she drew her
knees up to support herself.  Her left hand began to jack my shaft, with
just the same rhythm as her mouth sucked me.  With her right hand she
stroked my hairy balls; a ticklish feeling, but it always adds something to
the experience.  All in all, a good start.

After a few minutes of this I felt her saliva running down my shaft and onto
my balls, and her mouth was getting smoother and looser.  I put my hand on
the back of her head, my palm covering the pink ribbon she had there, and
pushed her down farther, so she was talking half my length with each
downstroke.  This increased her suction as she tried to take more and more
of me into her mouth.

I could tell she was getting turned on - she increased her tempo and began
taking me deeper and deeper without my urging, and soon I felt that I was
very close to coming.

She pulled my dick from her mouth and licked it, eyes closed and an
expression on her face that was almost loving.  She flicked her tongue
delicately over the glans, to which I said "Oh, yeah," and then she took my
cock back into her mouth and began to suck it hard, deeper and deeper.  She
was emitting a little whimper in the back of her throat, and her nipples,
brushing my thighs, were hand as raisins.

"I'm.....gonna come.....so get ready.....to swallow....." I said between
strokes.  I felt her begin to humm some kind of protest (a princess doesn't
usually swallow come, I guess), but the vibrations only made the sensation
of her sucking more exquisite, and I exploded into her mouth.


[Chapter 5 - Consummation of the Deal]

I held her head in place as I came.  At the first mightly spurt, I felt the
head of my cock slip into her throat.

She swallowed hard once, twice, a third time, then pressed her face hard
into my groin.  She made a sound like a quivvery whine, and I thought she
was choking, but I looked down and saw her hips churning. She was coming!
She pulled my dick halfway out and began bobbing her head again, wildly.
The come was still pouring out of me, and I felt deliriously blissfull.  Her
orgasm lasted almost a full minute, her knees and thighs clamped tightly
together, her ass bucking and churning, and though my cock had gone soft she
kept it in her mouth until she was done.  She had come without touching
herself, just by sucking me off.

She let my cock slide from he mouth and rested her head on my thigh, the
rest of her body collapsed between my legs.  After a moment, I said "Did you
like that?" She did not answer, did not look at me.  "You came too.  You
must have liked it."

She turned away and hugged her knees, her back to me, and still did not say
anything for several minutes.  Then finally she said "I've never, um, done
that before" in a soft, high voice.

"You forget I have pictures of you doing it to Bill Arnold," I said,
standing.

"No, I mean...." she turned her head and looked up at me, "I never
swallowed... it.  I thought..."  She drifted off.

"I felt my cock go into your throat when I came.  I think that's what you
felt.  And my come going down your throat."  Talking like this was making my
cock stir again.  Good, I thought, soon we go on to the next step.

"Yes," she said.  After a moment she added "Your thing is so much bigger
than Randy's - my boyfriend's - or Bill's.  It was.... different."

"You liked it, Annie."

"Ann."

"Yes.  You did a good job, so it's Ann.  I can see this is going to be a
nice afternoon." I smiled at her reaction, which was mild shock.

"You mean we're not done?"

"Done?"  I laughed.  "We're about as far from done as you can imagine. And
this is just today.  I like this, Ann.  I like this a lot.  And in a way, I
think you do to."

She would not answer, but instead rose and went to the sink, to get a drink
of water.  After she finished her drink she turned to look at me. Standing
there at the sink, bathed in the sunlight coming through the tattered
curtains, she was lovier than ever.  I could see the moisture still
glistening on her chin and the insides of her thighs.  "I'm doing this
because I have to.  Don't get the idea that I want this."

"I really don't care.  You're been getting your way all your life.  Now it's
your turn to do what someone else wants, " I replied, and she turned angrily
away.  "Besides, you didn't `have to' come like a damned flood.  Maybe you
don't like me, but you like this," I said, lifting my half-hard cock into my
palm.

She turned back to face me, and stared at my cock, her lips parting
involuntarily and the tip of her tongue just touching her upper lip. She
turned away and was silent.

I came up behind her and wrapped my arms around her from behind, my hands
cupping her breasts, my cock sliding across her ass.  She wriggled a bit,
trying to get free, but I held her tight, feeling her nipples and noticing
how erect they were.  Although she was certainly trying not to, her hips
were rotating ever so slightly, and I could feel her heart pounding through
her breasts.

I bent down and whispered in her ear, "You want in Ann, don't you?  You want
my cock..."

"No...no..." her voice weak and uncertain.

"Yes you do, I can feel your nipples, your heartbeat.  I'll bet your pussy
is getting wet."  I reached down with my right hand, and she tried to fend
me off, but it was obviously a half-hearted attempt.  My hand stole between
her legs, and I felt them part slightly.  Her pussy lips were puffy and her
hole was soaking wet.

"Unnnnnnngh," she murmured, and her head twisted from side to side.

"Tell me you want it, Ann.  Tell me you want me to fuck you."  I was really
enjoying this, though from time to time it seemed rather like a dream, and I
was afraid I might wake up.

"No...let me go..." she whispered, but her legs parted farther, and I felt
her reach around to touch my cock with her fingertips.  When she found it,
she emitted a little gasp and wrapped her hand around it, jarking the shaft
slowly.

"Tell me.  Tell me you want me to fuck you."

"Ummmm.  Yes, OK, I want it."  Her voice cracked, and she began breathing
very hard.

"Want what?"

"Want your... cock."

"Want it where?  Want me to do what with my cock?"  I began to stroke her
clit against her pubic bone, and her hips bucked.

"Ohhhhhhhhh.  Oh, fuck me with your cock, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me..." She
turned and wrapped her arms around my neck, and I felt her tongue probe my
ear.

I picked her up in my arms and carried her to the small bedroom, which was
right off the living room.  I laid her down on the bare mattress, her ass
just on the edge, and spread her legs wide.  Her pussy, such a small, cute
little rosebud, stretched and parted, the lips glistening in the afternoon
light.  I rubbed the tip of my cock against those lips and up onto her clit
and she went wild, her shoulders and head thrashing back and forth, her back
arching.

I gently pushed her tummy back down onto the bed, placed one hand on a tit
and held my cock with the other, and slid into her.  She was incredibly
tight, and I could only get about half of my cock in her at first, though
she was very wet.  Even so, her eyes popped open and her mouth formed an "o"
of suprise.

"Slow, slow, oh god, take it slow...."  She was pushing at my chest with her
hands, trying to get me to back out.

"What's wrong, Ann.  You're not a virgin are you?"  I was teasing her, but I
also wanted to know.

"No," she said, talking between her panting breaths, "but I only did it
once, a long time ago, and I'm not use to this."

"Randy?"  I asked, and gave her two short strokes.

"Ahhhhhhhhng,  um, no, it was back in junior high.  You don't.....
ummmmmm.... know him."

"Gotta know, Ann.  Who got your cherry?"  I stroked her again, each time
going fractionally deeper, and for several moments she did not reply, her
eyes closed, her teeth chewing her lower lip.

"Uh, Stuart Dawes.  Jesus, oh, ummmmmmmmmmm.  But his dick was ha-half the
size of yours, and...  ohhhhhhhhhhh....  it lasted about 20 seconds..."

I laughed a little, which made her look at my face.  Stuart Dawes had been
an aquaintance of mine in junior high, though I guess he had moved away
since I had not seen him in high school.  He had claimed to have fucked Ann
Macafee after the CIF basketball finals, but no one had believed him.

Thanks for priming her, Stuart, I thought, and began to fuck her in earnest.

All protest from her ended as her pussy spread itself wide for me.  She was
holding onto her knees, spreading them as far as she could, and in ten
smooth strokes I was buried in her cunt up to my balls.  This was te best
fuck of my life - she was so tight, so smooth, the internal contours of her
pussy forming a perfect sheath for my hard dick, and we pumped like a german
machine.

She began to come, her orgasm reaching an intensity that was almost scary.
Her face and breasts went bright pink, her face grimaced, and her hands
gripped her knees so hard that the knuckles went white.  I was loving the
feeling, but since I had just come I had no problem holding back,
maintaining myself on that delicious plateau a man reaches just before his
orgasm begins.  As her orgasm peaked, she began to talk again, breathy, in a
high, childish voice:

"Owwwwwwww, yeah, yeah, ummmmmmmmmmm, fuck it, fuck it, god, I love it,
ooooooooooo... do me, do me, god, your dick..."

Fianlly she subsided, her hips lowering back onto the mattress, her hands
relaxing and letting her knees slip away.  She smiled the smile of the
satisfied and wrapped her legs around my back, linking her ankles.

"You close?" she said, her eyes twinkling.

"Um, yeah.  Pretty close."  I was damn close, in fact.

"Come in my mouth again."

I was a little suprised at that, and my face must have shown it.

"I'm not on the pill," she explained, then after a moment added, "and yeah,
I liked the feeling of your come in my throat."

That did it.  She was begging to drink my come.  I could hold back no
further, and I pulled out and slid my groin up her chest, over her tits, and
let her take me deeply into her throat.  In three hard sucks I was coming,
the feel of her firm tits against my ass accentuating the experience.  I
must have come more the second time than the first, because quite a bit
leaked out the corners of her mouth.

After I pulled out, she scooped up the come from her cheeks and sucked it
off her fingers.  Her espression was one of wild lust combined with serene
satisfaction.  We laid on the bed together for at least an hour, dozing in
each other's arms.  Finally, I glanced at my watch and saw that it was
nearly 6:00.  I had to get home.

She got up when I did, and we stepped into the living room and dressed in
silence.  Once we were dressed, I gently took her by the shoulders and sat
her on the couch, then sat next to her.

"Well now," I said, "that was a very nice beginning, don't you think?"

She nodded, her face very thoughtful as she stared at the window.

"I think we could use some sheets on that bed, since I noticed you got
mattress-button marks on your back, and maybe next time we should bring some
refreshments.  Think you can handle that, Ann?"

She was quiet for several moments, clearly thinking things out, then stood
and began to pace around the room as she spoke.

"OK, look, I'm going to be honest here.  I could try and tell you I hated
this, but it would be a lie.  I liked it."

"You loved it," I corrected her.

"Yes, alright, I loved it.  And I want it to continue.  But we have to have
some ground rules."  She looked at me to gauge my reaction, but I held my
face passive.  "OK, first, nobody finds out.  Nobody at school knows
anything different is happening between you and me.  Second, I do you, but
not your friends - you can't even tell them.  Third, you bring rubbers so I
don't get pregnant.  Fourth, We don't do anything strange.  You know, like
tieing up or whipping or anything like that."

"What makes you think you're in a position to make conditions?" I asked
calmly.

"Come on.  You've been playing this tough-guy thing all afternoon, but you'd
much rather go on fucking me than show those photos.  We can reach an
agreement here, can't we?"

"Perhaps.  I'll address your points one by one.  First, I don't have any
intention of telling anyone anything - but one thing has to change."

"Which is?"

"Which is that you have to stop treating me like a fucking piece of
furniture at school.  When I say 'hi', you say 'hi' back, you know, just
like I was a person."

She sniffed derisively, but did not argue.

"Second, my friends can find their own pussy.  Third, rubbers will not be
acceptable for either of us, believe me, so you go on the pill or continue
to take me in your mouth.  Lastly, 'strange' is in the eye of the beholder,
but I'm not a kinky person.  You will continue to do what I say, however."

"Pulling out and coming in my mouth is not foolproof."

"Then get the pill."

"OK.  But I don't take it... in the ass."

"We'll see.  What about Randy?"

"He's a hood ornament.  I don't need him."

"What about Bill Arnold?"

She looked at me, and for a moment I pitied her.  "He's my only coke
connection.  What can I do?"

"You're off coke, that's what.  Look what it made you do...  Besides, I'm
gonna be taking up your free time with other pursuits."

She stood at the sink again, the light coming through the curtains now
coming from a floodlight outside, and I flashed back to when she was
standing there naked, my come on her chin and her come on her thighs.
Incredibly, I began to get hard again.  Ah, 16.

"Okay," she finally said.  "It's a deal."

She turned back to face me, and saw that I had drawn my cock from my pants
and watched it standing erect.  A clear lust appreared in her eyes.

"God, again?" she said, and smiled slightly despite herself.

"You have a noticeable effect on me when you stand at that window. Let's see
how your cocksucking technique is coming along."

One of the highlights of my life was when Ann Macafee, queen goddess of the
school, unparalleled beauty, without hesitation and with the ease and
obediance that comes from repeating a familiar duty, gracefully knelt down
before me to take my cock into her pretty mouth.


                       <to be continued...>