Some guys are simply born squat and butt ugly. No point lamenting the fact either. It’s God’s little joke and no Saville-Row tailor, academic prowess or designer high-heeled shoes, can address so unfortunate a shortcoming.
Patrick Carter was the epitome of unattractive youth. Wasn’t much better when he hit thirty! The nearest he had gotten to seeing a girl naked was Playboy’s Miss October 2006 centerfold. Why her? Simply because she hung on the back of his bedroom door – a nightly reminder of what he was missing in his life.
Contributing to his lack of popularity – with pretty much either sex – was an unusually pronounced birthmark that stretched from just below his left temple to his jaw-line. At first glance one might have taken it to be a facial burn of some sort. There had been the offers of plastic surgery but a combination of insufficient finance and doubts as to its ultimate effectiveness dissuaded him from this option. Add to this, an overweight body, peaking at five-eight, premature baldness (a genetic family trait), poor motor-sensory co-ordination and below-average communicative skills….and you have a template for social isolation. Patrick had never dated let’s say!
Fate however dealt Patrick a way better hand just three days short of his thirty-second birthday when he pulled down second prize in Powerball…a creditable three-eighty thousand dollars. Didn’t make him any taller or better looking but the Mercedes Avantgarde Coupe sitting in the company parking lot did not pass un-noticed.
“That’s your car Patrick??” cooed petite Michelle Huxtable, the bimboesque air-head in charge of copying and fax-outs. It was an office tradition amongst the male contingent trying to decide which was the greater numerically – her upper torso or IQ.
“Sure” he replied, “Come to dinner with me Friday night and I’ll give you a ride in it.” Chuckling at his double entendre it was even funnier that she didn’t notice.
By whatever yard-stick one were to use, Michelle was a ditzy teenager. But hey, who needs intellectual extravagance when you’re thirty-two years old and in desperate need to catch up on a decade’s lost fumblings.
Throughout the main course at Cardinals on Eighth, Patrick was mesmerized by his young companion’s heaving cleavage, aided and abetted one must admit, by Michelle’s underwired support team that transformed the girl’s, in actuality modest curves into a pair of dynamically rounded orbs that even had the waiter fluffing his ‘special of the day’ lines. Admittedly he was ideally positioned to take full advantage of the Grand Canyonesque view on offer.
At the point she said “OK” when he asked later if she might like to accompany him home “for a nightcap,” he was temporarily shocked insensible, having drawn a rain-check the few times previously he had asked any girl the same question after a group night out.
Patrick’s apartment reflected its owner’s mind-set….desperate for some female touch and just this side of chaotic.
“Whoa!” Michelle tried unsuccessfully to repress, as she entered the small lounge-room. Patrick scurried ahead of her, clearing newspapers, business folders and two recent editions of “Penthouse” from the sofa. He wasn’t quick enough with the latter.
“You like girlie mags then Patrick?” she giggled. He mumbled some incomprehensible reply, avoiding all eye-contact with her.
“S’pose you visit porn-sites too?” she asked, glancing at his computer on the desk by the far wall. He looked up at her with an expression midway along the behavioral chart - somewhere between guilty and cornered.
“It’s OK,” she added, sensing his discomfort, “I look at them too – most girls do you know!”
Right then, he had the strongest conviction that she would probably permit him open-ended license to indulge his wildest fantasies with her…and in that regard, he knew he was walking a remarkably fine line.
“That so?” he muttered. “So would you look at a few with me after I get the coffee Michelle?”
“Sure,” she replied, hardly missing a beat. ‘The guy is obviously loaded’ she figured, ‘what difference I hafta look at a porn-site or two?’ She sat down on the sofa neatly, ensuring nevertheless that just the slightest hint of her lilac colored panties were visible.
Quite obviously she got the angle right as Patrick almost up-ended the tray, tripping against the corner of the coffee table as he tried his best to ignore the girl’s up-skirt attractions. He sat in the chair opposite, pushing the coffee cup across the glass surface towards her.
“Thanks,” she whispered, heralding a momentary period of disquiet when neither quite knew how to introduce some neutral conversational topic.
“So Michelle, how do you like working at Bowman, Link and Grantham?” he asked finally.
“It’s OK,” she answered. “Gets a bit boring in the copy room after a few hours, but it’s better than not having a job I guess.”
Further inanities flowed either way for a while, in dispersed with the occasional gulp of coffee. When nothing more progressive appeared to be happening, the girl placed her mug back on the table and semi giggled, “You still want to look at the computer Patrick?”
“Oh, s-sure,” he replied, fully grateful for her intercession right that moment.
Seating herself alongside her host, she waited patiently for the thing to boot up. He seemed embarrassed to proceed. “You sure you’re OK with this?” he asked nervously.
“Who doesn’t look at porn these days?’ she grinned. I’ve even caught my fifteen-year old sister reading sex stories on-line.”
“Really?” he said, wishing he could have been visiting the family at the time. “She’s a naughty little schoolgirl huh?”
“Yep, daddy’s really had his hands full with us,” she answered, before blushing at her unintentional blooper.
“I see,” he laughed, “Like that is it?” She dug him in the ribs.
“Well here goes nothing,” he announced, clicking on a website midway down his ‘favorites’ list. Running hi-speed cable as he was, the site opened up almost instantly.
“Kewt Kitties” was aptly named. From what Michelle could see at first glance, the majority of girls on display must have been signed-up the day after they turned eighteen. Some she figured, had to be using fake ID, they looked so young. The site appeared to offer multiple free galleries of the teens behaving for the most part – very badly.
‘Misty’ for example, a small brunette posed indecently on her bed, seemed more than willing in the first frame, to share her up-skirt treasures with the viewer. Not just a glimpse either, the majority of her lacey white panties were displayed with provocative intent, courtesy of those generously parted legs and absurdly brief skirt that might have had trouble fitting a Cabbage Patch doll.
Frame two and Misty was laying even less claim to modesty. Draped anything but innocently face-down across the edge of her bed, she was looking back at the camera, her bottom revealed in all its shapely contours – skirt up around her waist and with the elastic pulled down just sufficiently that the viewer might determine the vaguest on-set of her rear crevice. A pose one could argue, to test the resolve of the most God-fearing father on the planet.
Michelle glanced across at Patrick. His eyes were riveted on the image. For some reason she found this highly arousing and in other circumstances, might have slipped a hand into her own panties. She had recognized for years now that she was attracted to females as well as men and pictures depicting other teenage girls either being spanked, stripped or otherwise manhandled, turned her on big time. Like many of her sex, she fantasized about being raped as well as watching it happen to other girls.
“She’s real pretty isn’t she?’ Patrick half-mumbled, staring now at the third picture which showed Misty kneeling on the bed in just her panties, leaning towards the camera to display the contents of her skimpy bra somewhat lewdly.
Michelle was feeling almost light-headed. Her companion was no oil-painting to be sure but she was beginning to see the relevance of the old saying “A port in any storm” and hell, there was the Mercedes Avantgarde out front!
Viewing the fourth picture on full-screen lowered everyone’s inhibitions. Misty, having given up all pretence at innocence was now propped up against the bed-head fully topless and with her legs not only apart but holding her panties far to one side, so that her lightly furred and evidently moist vaginal lips were clearly on view to all and sundry. Patrick’s mouth was dry – Michelle’s panties at quite the other end of the scale.
Patrick turned to his visitor. “W-what would you say if I asked you maybe to let me see your panties Michelle?” he asked with less than no hope of anything positive coming from the question.
For a moment, the girl wasn’t sure how she felt about so indecent a suggestion.
“You mean just my panties?” she almost whispered, still staring at Misty’s uncovered splendor.
“Er, well yeah of course,” he stammered, “I’m not expecting you to strip or anything ….”
“So what are you saying Patrick?” she teased. “You just want to see up my skirt? That’s soo gross!” In truth though, the idea was already somewhat appealing to her and the thought of acting slutty like that with a much older man, even one offering something less than hulk status, raised her body temperature marginally.
“You’re right, it is naughty Michelle,” he wriggled like a fish on a hook. “Just that looking at that girl’s pussy makes me really horny. Not much of an excuse I guess.”
Misty’s pose however was having no less powerful an effect on Michelle’s emotions. Even if she had been considering her options, the fifth picture in the gallery lowered any inhibitions that may still have been on site. Having shed her panties entirely, the girl was now splayed fully naked across the edge of the bed once more, but on her back this time and by virtue of the newly come by, yet rather cute little blonde fingering her now, whilst her other hand was performing unsighted excesses between her own slim legs, the general demeanor in Patrick’s room was one of ‘rampant expectancy’ you might say.
“How do you want me then?” the girl asked of her host softly.
Looking away from the screen he studied her momentarily. Damn if she wasn’t just as sexy as the little tease on-line.
“Could you just sit on the chair over there,” he pointed to a sturdy-looking recliner near the window, “And, well I guess, just spread your legs a bit?”
She was fully aware that his eyes would be glued to her shapely little rear end as she sauntered in the chair’s direction. Seating herself comfortably, she ensured full eye-contact before parting her legs slowly.
This was more than he could believe – a girl willingly letting him see up her skirt.
“You like?” she teased, parting them fractionally more. It was making her so hot!
He could but stare at the sight before him. The front of her panties were completely visible now and even as he gazed upon that frivolous indecency, she widened her legs further still allowing him to see as far as the waistband of her panties. Nor could he resist staring at that noticeable indentation all the way between her legs. He became aware suddenly of the size of the erection beneath his zipper.
“C-could I see you in just your bra and panties?” he all but whimpered.
“Posing like Misty I suppose you mean?” she teased. Not waiting for his reply, she stood up, unzipping her skirt at the side, letting it fall to the ground. The blouse she unbuttoned slowly before discarding it also.
“This what you want?” she giggled, standing with her hands on her hips, watching his reaction closely.
“You are so pretty Michelle,” he stammered, “Could you maybe lean forward a little?”
“So you can see my tits better? You’re a really naughty boy Patrick!” So saying she leaned forward sufficient that her cleavage was accentuated to the point he could see a hint of either nipple. The erection between his legs was almost painful. Only the fact he was still seated allowed him to conceal the truth of the matter.
“Turn around sweetie…please,” he asked.
Knowing full well what he wanted to see, she did so. Without further prompting she then bent over, resting her arms on the table which quite obviously yielded up to her host an insufferably hot view of her teenage bottom – quite as arousing as Misty’s cute derriere. Only this one was there in his room, not an arm’s length away.
“Can I pull your panties down a bit?” He sounded like a ten year old asking for some chocolate cake.
Instead of answering, she leaned over further and simply wriggled her hips invitingly.
Seizing the waistband, he peeled the cotton material fractionally lower. He was unable to stifle sounds of approval as her upper rear-end complete with sexy little chasm, was exposed to his understandably lustful vision.
“Don’t pull them right down…please?” she cried out, some might say at this stage – hopefully.
Acceding to her request, he left them at half mast and fully ignorant of his obviously aroused condition, walked around the table where the view down her push-up at that angle was nothing short of awesome!
Patrick’s expression right that moment touched the girl. Far from a virgin herself and despite the fact she was basically acting like a hoe to further her own financial gain, just the sight of that livid birthmark and his now quite obvious state of arousal, tripped her compassion meter.
“Do you want to take me to the bedroom?” she asked quietly.
Patrick looked around, half expecting that she must be talking to someone else.
“Me…you’re asking if I’d like to take you to my bedroom?”
“Don’t see anyone else here Patrick,” she sighed. “So, you want to or not?”
He didn’t need further urging and taking her hand, he led her to the bedroom which led off the small hallway. It displayed no greater a degree of tidiness than had the lounge-room. The bed-sheets looked like they had been slept in since Ronald Reagan came to office. Clothes both clean and crumpled, were strewn across two chairs not including the small pile the far side of the bed. Empty glasses sat on the small bedside table – the general impression was that of a confirmed if not hopelessly undisciplined bachelor. Realizing the room’s shortcomings so far as the immediate presentation stakes were concerned, Patrick hurriedly pulled the coverlet straight, hiding the chaos beneath.
The girl sat down on the quilt, arms at her side, looking up at him. She caught his furtive glances down her bra but if anything found them arousing rather than demeaning. After all she knew she had sexy breasts – no point thinking otherwise. She wasn’t however expecting his next sentence.
“I want to spank you Michelle,” he evoked the courage to announce. “Just like I see happening to some of the girls on that site….always wanted to do it to a girl.”
“I didn’t say anything about getting spanked,” she replied nervously.
“I won’t hurt you,” he added hastily.... “Not real hard Michelle…just a few light spanks on your bottom is all.”
“Just a couple then,” she giggled. “and not with my panties down either….OK?”
“Sure, not on your bare bum,” he promised. “Just one more thing though,” he averted his eyes momentarily as if scared of rejection.
“What now?” she asked. “You want me over your knee?”
“No,” he replied uneasily, “I actually want to spank you….er, standing up in front of me?”
“That’s so weird,” she giggled afresh. “You want to spank a girl while she stands up? Not even over a chair or something?”
“I know it’s strange,” he semi-apologized. “I just find the idea of spanking a girl while she’s on her feet really hot. It’s a fantasy I’ve always had.”
“O..kay,” she answered, getting to her feet. “This alright?” she asked, standing now no more than a foot in front of him. “With my bottom to you like this I presume?’ she wriggled her hips pretty much in his face. Staring at that curvy little butt, he knew then the meaning of true happiness.
The first smack was gentle enough. The feel of those firm cheeks beneath his palm transported him to a localized Utopia. The second was measurably harder but raised nothing more than a soft whimper from the girl. She could feel the effect it was having on her already….a moistening of her labia and a distinct tingling in her nipples. Wanting both to please and titillate her partner even further, she bent over fractionally which had of course the effect of making her panties cling even tighter to her slightly elevated bottom as well as highlighting her sexy rear crevice even more.
Patrick’s third was a spank to rate with the greats. Besides crying out in shocked discomfort, she straightened up and clutched her reddening backside with both hands.
“That hurt” she wailed, even as he reached around her, both hands cupping her breasts while he nuzzled her neck with unpracticed affection. Fully off-balance, she was easily directed to fall on to the coverlet where Patrick continued to grope her needfully. The sensation of her hot young bottom pressing into his abdomen was definitely something he could get used to.
Semi stifled by the bedclothes, she realized soon enough that the pain of her smarting rear-end was rapidly being replaced by the pleasure inherent in having her breasts fondled. His hands were now inside both cups and squeezing her nipples rather roughly. It was such fun being a girl!
Patrick was having fun too – perhaps the time of his life. Even the girl’s scent was vaguely intoxicating. He rubbed his face in her hair as he groped her even harder. His erection was pressing up against her rear cheeks now and it was hardly likely she hadn’t noticed. Unhooking the clasp just below her shoulder-blades, he began to slip both bra straps down her arms while she wriggled and teased him unmercifully.
“I didn’t say you can get me topless,” she giggled, even as he eased both arms free, tossing her bra on to the bedside table. He rolled her over on to her back so that she was forced to cover herself in the time-honored crossed-arms position.
“That’s really naughty,” she gasped,
He sensed exactly how to address that situation and seizing the waistband of her panties made as if to tug them down.
“Noo not my panties, leave them on please!” she wailed, making a grab for them. This of course presented Patrick with an unobstructed view of the teenager’s pert breasts, smaller than he had believed them to be but still, enticingly hot. Inclining his head, he indulged his long standing fantasy of sucking a girl’s nipple. Michelle squealed momentarily as he drew down on her breast, the suckling sensation causing her to become even more highly aroused.
Unable to control himself now, Patrick thrust his right hand between her legs and began rubbing the girl’s vaginal area through her panties. So hot did it feel, he was unaware that he had begun whimpering in pleasure himself. Far from objecting, Michelle spread her legs wider, happy to allow him access to the general area. Beginning now to kiss her on the lips, though with little mastery of the craft, he took that last assertive step and slipped his hand inside her panties.
Whatever he had been expecting this to be like, its reality was far greater. He couldn’t believe how inviting her soft pubic hair felt, how moist her pussy seemed, but a few inches further south. The girl yelped as he slipped a finger deep inside, her breathing now as irregular as that of her molestor.
Needing to see her naked became his primary focus and with the image still of Misty sprawled so indecently on her bed, he used both hands to literally wrench the young girl’s panties off. No longer concerned with any false modesty and cognizant of her likely immediate future, Michelle just lay there, hands over her head, allowing him to ogle her total nudity.
“Are you going to fuck me Patrick?” she giggled, quite deliberately spreading her legs enough that her moist slit took center-stage in the viewing options.
For a moment he didn’t know what the hell he wanted to do first. Finger her again, kiss her hard, play with her breasts or a combination of all three. Then of course there was the matter of the uncoiled serpent between his own legs.
Michelle watched as he knelt alongside her, beginning now to unzip his pants, his eyes fixed upon that provocative triangle of light-brown hair that she was more than happy to leave exposed to his lustful vision. It was only when he finally pulled from the confines of his boxers, that which she had only previously felt up against her bottom, she let out a genuine cry of surprise.
Patrick was big…anyway you cut it. The evening most certainly had possibilities.
Kneeling there, his swollen erection eyeing off its opposite number, he realized he had no knowledge of how to proceed. The jigsaw puzzle itself was simple enough – only two pieces to fit together…just the mechanics of the thing!
“I think you need to come over here,” she smiled, opening up even more. “Here, let me,” she added, taking a hold of his thick shaft and guiding it in between her well lubricated opening, as he lowered himself to the task at hand.
Unable to continue thinking rationally as his manhood acquainted itself with its new surroundings, all he felt was a compulsion to thrust in deeper. He became unaware of the girl’s sexual plight, needing simply to fuck his hitherto underprivileged way to Nirvana. Virgins do have fun indeed!
Filled to capacity and finding herself being used as a whore more or less, Michelle tried to get her breath as wave upon wave of unimagined pleasure took her to realms she had never visited. His methods might lack a certain finesse, but there was no doubting his commitment. If this wasn’t in the upshot, the fuck of the century it was a close runner-up.
Unable to prolong the outcome further, he expelled maybe fifteen years of enforced celibacy into that sexy little receptacle. Even as he cried out with the release, the girl responded by raising her knees and widening to her theoretical limit. Her eyes closed in ecstasy she simply lay there murmuring, “Keep fucking me Patrick, keep fucking me……”
It was barely ten o’clock!
© Peter_Pan 2008
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