Date: Tue, 25 May 2021 10:21:38 +0300
From: MultyAmory <multyamory@gmail.com>
Subject: Teen Whore part 12

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at https://donate.nifty.org/; also feel free to write to me with your
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John knows sometimes you're the top dog, and sometimes you're the
bitch. You can be the top dog and the bitch, to the same person, at
different times. One of his guiding principles in life was: never be
afraid to be the bitch. Being the bitch had its purpose. Right now he was
being the bitch, realizing one of Coach's fantasies.

Coach was sitting in his chair, naked from the wait down; he only wore
his coaching jersey, which was almost thoroughly wet with sweat; Coach's
thick, muscular legs were spread wide, his big balls hanging low; his
hard, thick, throbbing black cock was hard as a steel rod; John,
completely naked, was on his knees, kneeling between Coach's legs; he
gave Coach long, wet licks, sucking one tentacle completely into his
mouth, thoroughly sucking it, before licking, up, running over the
scrotum, he licked the scrotum like it was an old stamp, letting his
saliva spill out of his mouth, coating the scrotum, making it all wet,
and then at the base of the shaft, John's tongue curled around the
shaft; Coach's breath caught in his throat, but John couldn't hear it
over the moaning emanating from the laptop's speakers. Coach's eyes
were glued to the screen. On the screen was a top down view of John
fucking one of the cheerleaders; Coash couldn't remember her name, and
didn't much care; John was mostly dressed, cream colored slack pushed
back over his pale bare ass, that was moving hard up and down as he was
drilling into the young girl; her exposed legs were wrapped around him,
she was still wearing her school shirt and sweater, but Coach knew that
John's cock was entering the young sweet girl, her young pussy tight
around his dick; Coach didn't fuck the cheerleaders himself; he
preferred men to boys and girls; but he loved that John performed for
him. Coach was watching John fucking this cheerleader in the video, while
in his office, naked John took Coach's entire shaft in his mouth; he
just held the penis in his mouth, and Coach could feel his penis
throbbing, could feel the cum churning in his balls. Then John slowly
lifted his head, the thick wet shaft exposed slowly inch by inch, until
only the head was in his mouth; he created a vacuum, sucking hard, while
his right hand wrapped around the shaft; Coach groaned again; John's
left hand grabbed the scrotum, the wet slick scrotum, and he wrapped it
and rubbed it, the right hand slowly going up the shaft a little bit and
then down to the base, and again up a few inches, then down to the base,
Coach groaned again, more urgently, taking more of Coach's dick in his
mouth John leaned in, he could feel Coach's cockhead touching the back
of his throat, he moved his head up, and then down, his right hand
jerking off the shaft, the left roughly caressing the balls -- and then
-- Coach grabbed John by the shoulders, "Stop! Get up. I'm gonna cum. I
wanna cum in yer ass." John got up; he was shaking with pent up sexual
energy; John slowly lifted one leg, and put it next to Coach's hip, over
one sweaty muscular leg, then the other leg, on Coach's other side, over
his other leg, and holding the back of Coach's chair John stood on his
toes, his ass right over Coach's cock; "would you do me a favor,
sugarbear?" John asked, sweetly, looking deep in Coach's eyes and
slowly, his legs shaking with the effort, bent his knees just enough for
his butt cheeks to touch the head of Coach's penis; "yes, anything,
just let me fuck you already, John" John put himself down another few
inches; Coach's cock, slick and wet and hard and throbbing rubbed
between his ass cheeks, pressed against his asshole; but he held himself
there; "will you fuck Alvin and cum in his ass? And then make him cum?"
Coach momentarily lost his concentration; John and Mindy's moans from
the laptop filled the silence of the room; "wait, really? But he's just
a skinny thing..." John bent his knees more, and Coach moaned as his dick
just slid into John, so wet it met no resistance, just immediately buried
in dark velvety hotness; "OK, OK, sure, whatever" then John partially
straightened his legs, Coach's cock almost out of him but not all, the
cockhead still inside, and then slammed down, and now Coach grabbed his
waist, and John could see over Coach's shoulder, he could see himself,
on the little screen, fucking Mindy, as Coach was fucking his ass, harder
and harder

****

It was Friday. Earlier this week Emma decided she was going to talk with
Lucy, but she postponed it, again and again. And now it was Friday and
she was out of time. Emma texted Lucy to meet her in the supply closet,
and to come alone. When Lucy came in, her smile widened when she saw
Emma; Emma looked over Lucy, her thin frame, small breasts; Lucy's face,
even when smiling, had something mysterious about it, like a drawing of a
young fairy. Suddenly, Emma had a vision; she saw Lucy, in a dark alley,
shirt around her waist, her exposed breasts grabbed harshly by very large
hands, her face contorted in pain as a large man pounded her from behind,
almost lifting her off the ground with every forward thrust; Emma
blinked; it wasn't a vision; it was a memory; suddenly, powerfully, Emma
remembered; her name was Jessica, but everyone called her Candy, she was
so sweet; her frame was thin, just like Lucy, she had young small breasts
and a wild mane of hair; for a few weeks, she and Emma were an item, as
much as two young whores who live on the street can be together; they
"dated", getting food in the soup kitchen together, finding a safe spot
to sleep together; then one day, a car pulled up; Emma said no, but the
promise of $1,000 enticed Candy; Emma told her not to go, not to get in
the car, but Candy wouldn't listen. They hurt her; and when she came
back, she was different. She was not sweet anymore. Emma kept her
distance; and after a few months, Jessica was gone. Emma never knew what
happened to her. Emma remembered they kissed, and there was always
something a bit off, Jessica's breath sour with hunger; and she never
knew what Jessica's pussy tasted like. She didn't want to go down on
her, after the johns came in her. But She knew what Lucy's pussy tasted
like. Lucy wasn't Jessica, and Brentwood wasn't Nashville. Emma took a
deep, long breath, banishing her sad memories to the back of her mind,
and smiled at Lucy; "I have an idea." She said.

****

It was Friday afternoon, and Emma let herself and Lucy in Vice Principle
Snooke's office. His assistant wasn't there, though she was already
familiar with Friday's routine, and if she heard the grunts and moans
coming from the office a short while after a young female student went
in, she indicated nothing. Snooke looked up from his desk. Emma noticed
he wasn't really working, just pretending to work, as part of their
game; the role reversal of predator and prey, the helpless older man,
caught in the thrall of the young seductress' power. But when he saw
Lucy, his eyes became hard; he pursed his lips; but before he could say
anything, Emma gave Lucy a little push, and Lucy blurted out "Vice
Principle, I have a problem!"

"What?" Snooke was confused. Emma chuckled; she put her head on Lucy's
shoulder, next to her ear; Emma's hand wrapped around Lucy's waist, and
she whispered in her ear

"Vice Principle" Lucy tried again, this time, her voice lower, lowering
her eyes, then looking up at him, wetting her lips, "Could you help
me?" she walked a few steps towards his deck, "Please?" one of Lucy's
hands was travelling up her shirt, drawing Snooke's attention to her
breasts, and the fact she wasn't wearing a bra

"Uh," Snooke started saying, Lucy walked closer to the desk

"Please, Vice Principle, you have to help me" Lucy's lips parted, and
she was now three or four steps from the desk

"What, uh, what's the problem, young gi- ah, young woman?"

Lucy smiled, "I have an itch. An itch..." she looked down, and breathed
out the word "inside" with half a moan; Vice Principle shuddered; Emma
chuckled to herself, softly, at the back of the room, removed from the
scene between Lucy and Snooke;

Now Lucy was standing in front of Snooke; he turned his chair to face
her, and Emma could see the tent in his pant, "Please, Vice Principle,
can you help me?"

"But, uh, if you have, a, a problem, maybe you should go to Ms. Harper
-- "

"No" Lucy said; now she was almost up to him; Snooke could look a bit
up, at her breasts; her nipples hard and obvious through her thin shirt;
"She doesn't have the right tool to scratch me where it hurts; do you,
Vice Principle, do you have the right tool, for me?" Snooke fumbled with
his belt and button and zipper and quickly opened his pants and lowered
them over his flabby ass; his cock was raging hard, and Emma smiled. Now
comes step two. Can Lucy do it?

She could. Lucy lifted her skirt. She wasn't wearing any underwear.
Snooke could see Lucy's pussy, her light brown fuzz, some moisture
glistening on her thin curls; Lucy put two fingers inside herself; deep;
she moaned hard, closing her eyes, and Snooke gurgled; Lucy then put the
two fingers in her mouth, tasting herself "oh, I'm so hot, Vice
Principle, so hot and aching" she licked her hand, and then grabbed his
cock with it; he whimpered. Lucy slid her hand up and down the shaft, she
got his cock good and wet; then Lucy carefully negotiated up his chair,
putting her knees on both sides of Snooke's ass and, still holding his
wet cock, lowered herself to him; when his cockhead touched the opening
of her wet, slick pussy (Emma lubed it herself before they came here)
Snooke gasped again; "oh, Vice Principle" Lucy smiled, "you DO have
the tool for me!" Then she slowly, inch by inch, lowered herself on his
cock, "oh, god, sweet child" Snooke murmured, "fuck me, Vice
Principle" Lucy breathed at him; no kissing, Emma told her; no hugging;
just put his dick inside you, and then make him cum, the faster the
better; Lucy moved up and down Snooke's shaft; she wasn't in a hurry;
Vice Principle closed his eyes; he seemed lost in ecstasy; Lucy increased
her tempo, the cock was so wet, her pussy so slick, she could barely feel
him; but Snooke felt her pussy; Lucy clamped her pussy muscles, and
Snooke gasped; smiling to herself, Lucy increased the tempo again, and
when he was fully in her, she clamped her muscles while lifting herself
up, milking his cock; "oh god, oh god!" Snooke couldn't hold himself
any longer; Lucy felt his cock start to pulsate, and she increased her
tempo even more, up and down, up and down, furiously fucking herself on
her cock; Snooke exploded in her without warning; one moment she was
fucking him, and in the next moment, he was cuming, spurt after spurt
after spurt, breathing short hard grunts with each spurt, "ugh, ugh,
ugh, ugh, ugh" -- and then it was down. Lucy slowly extracted herself
from Snooke, lowering her skirt back. "Thank you," she told him; Snooke
was in a daze; he was breathing hard, like he just ran four miles, and he
was looking down, his cock slowly deflating, a long, thin strand of cum
descending from it to the chair. Emma whispered to Lucy, "come on" and
Lucy hurried up to her, and they left the room.

****

On Friday afternoon, Karen visited Mr. Maison again, in John's house.
This time, however, Karen didn't know John and Nora were watching her
and Mr. Maison fucking.

Last time, John set up the cameras in the living room, because he assumed
Mr. Maison would be so excited he would want to fuck Karen as soon as
possible. But this time, John was worried that Mr. Maison might want to
make things more comfortable for Karen and himself, so he preemptively
told Mr. Maison he and Nora would be in the bedroom, so they'd have to
stay downstairs. This time, John set up the cameras to record and stream.
Nora and he were lying in bed, watching Karen and Mr. Maison kiss on the
sofa, passionately, exploring each other's bodies with their hands,
taking all their clothes off, and then Karen spread her legs again, and
Mr. Maison fucked her again.

While John was fucking Nora doggy style, both facing the huge screen, he
told Nora, "I wish he would have fucked her doggy style; we could see
more; like this, the view is mostly his ass; he covers most of her
body."

"We should do it closer to the action; that way, we could see
everything"

"oh." Grunted John, as his tempo increased, his sperm churning in his
balls, "that's a great idea!"

After Mr. Maison had Friday night dinner with his family, John summoned
him back to his house; Nora wasn't there and Emma was sleeping over at
her girlfriend's (John didn't even notice he instinctively started
thinking about Rebecca Stein as Emma's girlfriend; Emma certainly never
called her that, but still, it was clear to him they in love and
obviously they had some sort of romantic relationship, even if they
didn't define it; he didn't articulate it to himself, or explained
Nick's place in all this to himself; that's just how he thought about
Rebecca now).

It was important to John to remind Mr. Maison who was holding all the
cards. He wanted Mr. Maison to remember John owned him; there were
benefits to this relationship, obviously Mr. Maison enjoyed fucking
Karen, and only John made it happen for him; but happiness could lead to
thoughts of independence. John had to remind him he was still John's
property. So even though he knew it would make Mrs. Maison suspicious, he
forced Mr. Maison to come.

At first Mr. Maison seemed agitated, maybe even building himself up to be
angry; then John turned on the TV. There it was, Mr. Maison's ass, clear
as day, center frame, pumping up and down, in and out; the woman under
him, though you could mostly see her legs and arms, was clearly not his
wife. It was clear, though you couldn't see them, his cock was
penetrating her vagina. "Oh, Dave, oh Dave, oh Dave!" Karen was moaning
Mr. Maison's name again and again and again as he was pounding her; this
was after his first orgasm, when, after about ten minutes of rest, Karen
went down on his sweat and pussyjuice and cum covered penis, and somehow
coerced a second erection out of it; which he promptly used to fuck her.

Mr. Maison's face was white as a sheet. "Take your clothes off, Dave"
John said, partly in a mocking tone, but with enough steel in his voice
Mr. Maison would know he's not joking. He watched Mr. Maison slowly
taking his clothes off, like in a daze; at the same time, John opened his
pants, taking out his hard cock, and rubbing it, watching the naked
humiliated man.

John knew what Mr. Maison was experiencing; it was an adventure; he was
having an exciting affair with a lovely woman he obviously cared about
deeply. John needed to remind him what was really happening

"Go down on all fours, facing the TV." John ordered, and Mr. Maison
complied. John took out some lube, scooped a generous portion, and slowly
worked his finger into Mr. Maison's ass; Mr. Maison made quiet subdued
grunts as John invaded him. On the TV, the tempo increased; John held his
cockhead at Mr. Maison's anus, and then slowly, deliberately, pushed in;
Mr. Maison grunted again, with a deep dejected sound

"Your ass is mine, Mr. Maison" John said, slowly fucking Mr. Maison,
pushing all the way in, then slowly extracting himself, almost all the
way, stopping at his cockhead, the shaft wet and slick with lube, "I own
your ass", pushing in, another slow thrust, then out again, "you belong
to me, and every time I want, I'm going to take you, and fuck you, do
you understand?" in and out, in and out, the tempo increasing, Mr.
Maison's bowls tight around his cock

"Yes" Mr. Maison replied, his voice choked

"Say "Yes, sir!" Say "Yes, Sir, you won my ass and please fuck me."
Say it!"

"Yes" in and out, Mr. Maison started swaying with John's movements,
pushing back every time John pushed in, "Yes, S-s-sir, Yes, oh god, Yes,
you own my ass, oh, god, my ass, pound me, pound me, pound me in the
ass!" Mr. Maison's cock was hard as well now, and John grabbed it with
his right hand full of lube, jerking the cock

"oh, fuck me, god, yes, yes!"

Now he was furiously fucking Mr. Maison, and Mr. Maison was furiously
fucking his hand, he could feel his cock swelling up, the heat in his
balls,

"Now! Mr. Maison! I'm going to fill your insides with my cum, cum on,
cum for me, cum, ass, oh shit, oh shit, so tight, fuck, fuck, fuck, I'm
cu-u-u-ming!"

And John pounded Mr. Maison's ass, shooting spurt after spurt after
spurt, as Mr. Maison started cumming all over his living room carpet.


POLYAMORY IS WRONG!
It is either Multiamory or Polyphilia, but mixing Greek and Latin Roots?
WRONG!