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                 K R I S T E N' S    C O L L E C T I O N
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Ron: Just a Growing Boy 4
by Heatheranne (hthranne@aol.com)

***

The continuing story of a boy coming to grips – so to 
speak, with his considerable assets. (Fm, voy, inc, 
size, huml)

***

Nancy Webster opened the door to the office of her 
boss, Eugene Pearson. On a tray, she was carrying two 
mugs and a note pad. She put the tray on a table, and 
handed one of the mugs – it contained decaffeinated 
coffee with cream and sugar – to Eugene. She was 
wearing a tight knee-length skirt, and when she took 
her seat she showed off her slim legs up to the mid 
thigh. Nancy sipped from her mug, she preferred green 
tea, and waited on her boss.

Gene looked up from his computer screen. "Oh, great," 
he said, spying the coffee. He took a loud slurp and 
saluted Nancy with the mug. "Thanks, I needed that," he 
told her. His eyes lingered on her legs, not to mention 
her breasts, silky blonde hair and beautiful face. 

"You're welcome," said Nancy. She sat poised with pen 
in hand and the notebook on her lap. They talked 
business for several minutes. Nancy brought him up to 
date on her various projects. Without realizing it, 
Gene had been using her more and more to delegate 
responsibilities throughout his company. She loved it. 

Gene sat back in his chair and took another loud slurp 
of his coffee. "One more thing, I want you to find that 
young man we were observing the other day."

Nancy knew by the look on his face that he was talking 
about the boy in the e-mail - the one with the unusual 
cock. "Did you discuss that e-mail with your wife?" she 
asked. 

"Yes, loudly and at length," he said sheepishly.

"And?"

"And we have agreed to disagree for the time being. 
Neither of us wants a divorce," said Gene. 

"I see."

"We have separated, of a sort," he said. "I've moved 
into one of the guest apartments at the pool." He 
sniffed. "It's larger than the home I grew up in, so 
it's not much of a hardship." He gave Nancy a 
lascivious smile. "As I recall, you expressed an 
interest in that young man"

Nancy said, "Well, in the heat of the moment..."

"And we'll recapture that heat," Gene said. "Look, I 
bet that boy wasn't as young as he looked. He's 
probably some gigolo my wife hired. He shouldn't be too 
hard to find."

Nancy decided that if they had stopped discussing 
business, then she was going to stop her dutiful 
assistant's act. She stood and went to Gene's side. She 
steadied herself with one hand on the back of his 
executive's chair and bent over. Her heavy blonde hair 
brushed his face and her breast rested on his shoulder. 
With her free hand she cupped his crotch and gave it an 
affectionate squeeze. "And what happens when I find 
him?" she breathed in his ear. 

Gene glanced to the side. He could see the curve of her 
ample breast above her bra cup through the gap in her 
blouse. "You... you could have your fun with him of 
course, and I-I..."

Nancy let her lips brush the shell of his ear. "You 
want to watch, don't you?"

"No... I-I..." he stuttered even as he tried to capture 
her hand between his legs.

Nancy suddenly straightened, pleased that she'd reduced 
her boss to the level of a schoolboy trying for a 
grope. She brushed her hair over her shoulders and 
said, "I'll attend to that matter, right away." And 
with that, she left his office. 

A few minutes later, Nancy sat at her desk. Eyes 
closed, she slowly swiveled her office chair from one 
side to the other in contemplation mode. She'd been 
concerned that Gene would reconcile completely with his 
wife, because you never knew which way love would take 
someone. They had been very close early in their 
marriage – the amalgamation of their names, Ka-Gen, was 
the name of Gene's company. But in the matter of sex, 
which woman in his life held sway? Was it the nice 
looking wife who barely noticed his sexuality, or the 
busty blonde assistant who seemed to crave his cock? 

Of course 'seemed to' were the operative words there. 
Eugene knew what she was doing in fucking her way into 
a position of power. Somehow though, he seemed to be 
putting the situation in denial. Of course, now it 
looked as if he wanted to heat up their relationship by 
asking her to put together some sort of threesome. 
Nancy picked up a Montblanc pen and twirled it through 
her fingers. She wondered how she could bend this 
situation to her advantage.

First things first though, after passing three levels 
of computer security she brought up the video of the 
mystery male and Karen Pearson getting it on. It wasn't 
hard to isolate a good picture of the boy before he 
disrobed. She put that picture in an e-mail and sent it 
off. Picking up her phone, she tapped out an extension 
number using the end of her pen. 

"How can I help you, Ms. Webster," said a thin, male 
voice a few seconds later. 

"Good morning, Herb," Nancy said to Herb Bush, the head 
of security for her company. Herb Bush had done 
something in the federal government – something he 
couldn't talk about – before coming to Ka-Gen. He was 
very good at his job and you needed someone very good 
to keep out the foreign and domestic spies in the 
software business. 

"I just sent you an e-mail," she continued. She waited, 
knowing that he would be bringing up the picture. 

"And who's this strapping lad?" he asked a few seconds 
later. 

"That's what I'm hoping you can find out for me," Nancy 
said. "I suggest that you start with the students at 
the school where Ms. Pearson works." 

"Is he some sort of hacker?" Bush asked. There were 
numerous attempts every day to break into the company's 
servers. 

"No, I just need an ID for now. I'll let you know if 
it's something important."

Bush harrumphed into the phone, but he and Nancy worked 
well together so he didn't push the matter. "I'll see 
what I can find out," he said. They said their 
goodbyes. 

Nancy went to work on another project. Only thirty 
minutes had passed when her phone chirped and she saw 
Bush's name on the screen. "Yes, Herb?" she said when 
she answered. 

"I've found your boy," said Bush. "His name is Ron 
Fuller, and you were right about him being a student at 
Ms. Pearson's school." He went on to give Nancy his 
address and phone number. 

"That was quick," Nancy said.

"The marvels of modern computers," Bush said. "Anything 
else I can help you with?"

"Actually, there is," she said. "Can you get someone 
off company to follow this...uh...Ron Fuller? I need to 
know when's out somewhere in public, besides school."

She could hear Bush rearranging himself in his chair. 
"That can be expensive. I'll need an OK." 

"Route the voucher directly to Mr. Pearson, he'll sign 
off on it," Karen said. 

"Alright," Bush said in a resigned tone. "How do you 
want to handle the information?"

Karen hesitated. She hadn't considered that detail. 
When she didn't speak, Bush said, "Tell you what. The 
operative can contact me and I'll send you a priority 
text message."

Damn he's good, thought Karen. He realizes I'm trying 
to keep this at arm's length. "That'll be fine," she 
told him. 

*

Slap, slap, slap, slap... the steady tattoo of thighs 
hitting on thighs and ass filled the room. Ginny Fuller 
was on her hands and knees in the center of her queen-
sized bed. Her lover was behind her, giving it to her 
good – doggie style. "That's it, baby," she moaned, "no 
one's ever filled me like you do." Slap, slap, 
slap...she concentrated on keeping up her side of the 
rhythmic pounding by thrusting her ass back and forth. 
The sexual tension made her crumple the bed sheets in 
her fingers. It wouldn't be long now. 

She could feel her orgasm building. Her lover clasped 
her heaving hips with both hands and threw their hot 
fuck into high gear. His massive cock ravaged her 
dripping cunt. He'd screwed her through two cums 
already and now he was moving twice as fast. He was a 
tireless fuck machine. A slick, delicious feeling 
flooded her whole body. 

She felt her pussy spasm around the big fuck-stick. 
"Oooooh, yeahhhhh!" Ginny sobbed. Thrilling ripples of 
pleasure shot through her. Her hot cunt milked the 
oversized dick that continued to pile drive. She heard 
a grunt and suddenly a hot flood of cum stretched and 
filled her cunt. She could feel the lava hot surges of 
cream flow from her pussy lips and sheet down her legs. 

She felt the log of a dick withdraw from her soaked 
cunt. The bed bounced as her lover moved, and she fell 
over onto her side sated and exhausted. She watched as 
the smoothly muscled body of her lover, his only 
slightly drooping cock arching obscenely large from his 
crotch, turned in her direction. 

"We're still going to the mall, aren't we?" he asked. 

"Yes, honey," she told her thirteen year old son, "as 
soon as we get ready." 

"Cool," Ron said. "I get the bathroom first." 

*


Nancy looked up into the face of Daniel Price. His eyes 
were closed in concentration, or passion or maybe they 
were closed simply to keep out the sweat that was 
flowing from his brow. He was a good looking guy with a 
square jaw and unkempt dirty blonde hair. His skinny, 
yet muscular body, and scruffy beard completed his bad 
boy look. That look was at odds with his job as a 
nerdish programmer at Ka-Gen. 

At present, Daniel was doing his best to absolutely 
fuck the shit out of Nancy's slippery pussy. They were 
both working on their fourth orgasm of the morning and 
it wasn't happening fast enough for her. She stretched 
out an already wide spread, and very agile leg, and 
kicked him in the ass with her heel. "Come on, you son 
of a bitch, FUCK ME!" she demanded. 

Daniel bit his lower lip and whined, but he managed to 
increase the tempo of his plunging hips. Unlike their 
mutual boss, Gene Pearson, Daniel had a thick eight 
hard inches between his legs. She loved the way it 
stretched her cunt lips, and the way it sawed in and 
out of her hole. The erotic waves of sex washed through 
her. "That's it fucker, that's it, that's it," she 
cried. They were on a king-sized bed in a two bedroom 
condominium in an exclusive gated community. The condo 
was on the books at Ka-Gen as a combination corporate 
retreat and guest house, but it was actually Nancy's 
residence. Daniel Price was pretty much Nancy's too; he 
was merely an adequate programmer, and he knew that 
keeping his job meant keeping Nancy happy. 

"AH FUCK, FUCK, FUCK," she yelled as she wrapped her 
legs around Daniel's waist and ground out her cum 
against his hard body. 

He shuddered in her arms as her clutching pussy milked 
another orgasm out of his body, not that there was much 
evidence of it; she'd pretty much drained him dry. 
Daniel collapsed half his body weight on her.

On the nightstand next to her bed, Nancy's cell played 
a jaunty tune. She stretched out an arm and checked the 
display; it was Herb Bush. "Hello," she said after 
taking the call.

"Thought I'd give you a call instead of a text, the 
Fuller kid is at the North Clift Mall," Bush said.

"Good, thanks," said Nancy. "I'll check back with you 
in less than an hour." She cut off the call. "Danny, 
get off," she told the hot body lying on top of her. 

"Mmmph," was his only response. 

His hand was draped across her shoulder. She grasped 
his palm, bending it to a right angle and then she 
pushed and twisted at the same time.

"Ow,  ow, OW..." he cried in increasing volume as he 
rolled away in pain. "You don't have dislocate 
anything." Daniel flexed his aching wrist a few times 
and threw his arm over his eyes. His shriveled dick 
looked red and sore. 

Nancy stood from the bed and said, "Duty calls, hop 
up." 

"It's Saturday," Daniel said in mumbled protest. 

"Go," said Nancy. "I'm out of here in fifteen minutes."

It was actually twenty minutes later when Nancy checked 
her look in the full length mirror of her bedroom. 
Daniel had disappeared. She had showered just long 
enough to erase the smells of sex and sweat. She'd 
dressed in slacks and a belted jacket by Donna Karan. 
The dark slacks showed off her ass nicely, and the 
beige cashmere v-neck accented her prominent tits with 
a bit of cleavage. Makeup, a hint of gold jewelry and 
sensible pumps completed the outfit of a young business 
woman who intended to be noticed. 

Putting her bag over her shoulder, Nancy took the 
elevator to the ground floor parking garage where her 
car, a nearly new, metallic blue Corvette Z06 was 
parked. It was a sexy looking car for a sexy looking 
owner. She entered the car, started the five hundred 
plus horsepower engine, and with a chirp of the wide 
rear tires she was off to the mall. 

She got on the cross town expressway; it was two lanes 
going either way. There wasn't much traffic and she was 
content to follow a delivery van that was doing 
slightly over the speed limit. A pickup in the left 
lane slowly came abreast of her car and then began to 
creep past. The driver had a cell phone to his ear. His 
right wrist was flopped over the steering wheel and he 
was making all sorts of gestures as he spoke. It was 
obvious that his mind was more on his conversation than 
his driving. That was when Nancy heard the unmistakable 
flat staccato sound of a barely muffled four cylinder 
engine. She checked her side mirror and saw that a 
street racer type – it was a Honda or maybe a Mazda – 
had run up behind the pickup.

The pickup finally managed to pass Nancy and now the 
loud streeter was even with her car. There were two 
teenage boys in the car and they openly ogled Nancy and 
her Corvette by turns. She shifted her gaze to give the 
boys a cool once over and then she grinned evilly. 

*

It was hardly the first time she'd grinned at other 
drivers. It had begun when she was five. Her father 
bought her a five horsepower go-cart for Christmas. He 
took her to their back yard where he'd laid out a 
figure eight track with some old boxes. He made sure 
that she was strapped in and that her helmet fit just 
right and then he yanked on the rope starter a couple 
of times to get the motor running. Once the little 
engine sputtered to life, Nancy pushed her right foot 
down as far as it would go, and she didn't let up until 
the little single cylinder engine ran out of gas. 

That had been only the beginning of her karting career. 
Her father owned a power equipment business that sold 
and serviced lawn mowers and other lawn equipment. Most 
of his advertising budget went into the karts that 
Nancy drove in competition. She developed the habit of 
giving a nasty smile to the boys as she out braked them 
or stole their line into a corner just as she zoomed 
past. 

That didn't make her popular and she had to absorb some 
hard looks and angry words. Those looks from the boys 
took a turn when she began to develop. By age sixteen 
she had a body that even the most unrevealing race wear 
couldn't hide. 

Her team, made up of her father and a couple of guys 
from the shop, were preparing for the upcoming season. 
Dad had applied for support from their engine supplier, 
Maxkartpower. Their previous season had gone so well, 
he had thought that with more money they could contend 
for a national championship. A representative of 
Maxkartpower was coming by to look at their operation.

But things took an odd turn that day. With a sickening 
feeling in her stomach, Nancy watched as the paramedics 
loaded her mother into the back of an ambulance. Good 
ol' Mom had stood on the top rung of a step ladder 
while cleaning, and then she had stretched out just a 
hair too far. The ladder had tipped over, trapping her 
foot. In the twisting fall, Nancy's mother had broken 
both bones in her right calf. 

Nancy's father walked up beside her. He put his arm 
around Nancy's shoulder and said, "She's in no danger, 
she'll be fine. She'll ache and be a pain in the ass, 
but she'll be fine." The emotion in his voice belied 
his attempt at a light tone. "Now, I'm going to the 
hospital with her. You'll have to meet the guy from 
Max."

"No, Dad," Nancy protested. "Can't we put that off?"

"I know how you feel, baby, but I got the application 
in late. This guy is seeing us only because we're on 
his way to some convention."

"Sam or Jackson can talk to him," Nancy protested, 
naming her father's two employees who made up her 
karting crew.

Her dad shook his head. "Those guys volunteer too many 
hours as it is. Besides, you'll make a much better 
impression than those two grease stained monkeys."

Nancy sighed a long sigh of teen angst. 

"Good," said her father, knowing that was all the 
acquiescence he was going to get. From his back pocket, 
he pulled a wallet the size of a paperback book. It was 
his personal data storage. He thumbed through a thick 
wad of notes and business cards, finally picking out a 
shred torn from notebook paper. He handed it to Nancy. 
"Here's his name, Bret Harrington, and his flight 
number and well, you can see the rest." 

"Okay, Dad," she said with resignation as she took the 
paper. 

He gave her a hug. "I'll tell your mother where you 
are," he said. "Although, I might wait until she's 
sedated," he muttered. "Anyway, come by the hospital 
when you can."

Nancy nodded. "Tell her I love her," she said to her 
father's back as he hustled toward his truck. 

She went into the house and checked on Harrington's 
flight. It was on time, even so, she decided that she 
had enough time to shower. Thirty minutes later, she 
was dressed in fashionably faded jeans, navy v-neck tee 
shirt and a pair of pink Keds. She took the family 
Explorer; it was like driving a battleship in 
comparison to her kart, but she arrived at the airport 
in good order. 

Nancy held up the sheet of paper with 'Harrington' she 
had printed on it with a magic marker. She joined a 
line of people with similar signs, along with people 
who obviously knew who they were looking for. She 
watched the flyers come in from the plane, trying to 
guess which man he might be. She imagined someone like 
her father – middle age, thinning hair and a paunch. 
Indeed, there was more than one man like that. Some of 
them were peering at the signs, looking for their 
names. One man in a wrinkled suit squinted at her sign. 
She was about to speak to him when a voice said, "You 
must be Nancy Webster."

Nancy shifted her gaze into a wonderfully blue pair of 
eyes. "Yes...yes that's me," she said. She took in the 
rest of the man who had just spoken. Good Lord, she 
thought, he looks like a soap opera star. Bret 
Harrington was tall, thirtyish and gorgeous. He had 
full, dark hair, a square jaw and dimples. His lean 
frame was dressed in khakis, a denim shirt, navy blazer 
and a pair of expensive looking loafers. As they shook 
hands, his eyes wandered down to her chest. 

Caught you looking, thought Nancy. "My dad couldn't 
make it," she said as they walked their way out of the 
terminal. She explained about her mother's accident. 

"I'm so sorry, that's awful," Bret said. 

"I guess you're stuck with me for a tour of the shop," 
Nancy said. 

"I don't think 'stuck with you' is the appropriate 
phrase," he said with a warm smile.

They went to the lot and retrieved the Explorer. Nancy 
negotiated the highway toward the city. As they neared 
the exit for Bret's hotel, she asked, "Would you like 
to go straight to the shop? Your hotel is the next 
exit." 

"Please, let's stop at the hotel first," Bret said. 

When she pulled to a stop outside the lobby, he checked 
his watch. He rubbed at his chin in thought for a 
couple of seconds and said, "I'll tell you what. I 
really need to make some phone calls. Why don't you 
join me here for dinner, in say two hours? Then we can 
talk business."

Nancy hesitated for only a second. Her father had 
insisted that she take care of this guy so she couldn't 
honestly complain about any time restraint. Besides, 
dinner with Bret was an attractive proposition. "I can 
do that," she told him.

She drove home and immediately called the hospital. She 
was put through to her mother's room. "Hey, Dad," she 
said once he had answered the phone. "How's Mom doing?"

"They put her on some heavy duty pain killers. She's 
been dozing on and off. The orthopedist said that he'd 
have to put a rod in her tibia. They're going to 
operate tomorrow sometime." They speculated for several 
minutes about how they were going to care for her 
mother once she was home. Then Nancy filled him in on 
Bret Harrington.

"He's not some lecherous old coot?" her father asked.

Nancy laughed. "No, as a matter of fact, he's thirty 
something and very handsome," she said.

"Damn, I think I'd like a dirty old man better than a 
young one. But I know you can handle him."

*

They said their goodbyes. Nancy took a quick shower and 
then began the task of deciding what to wear. Bret's 
hotel catered to business men and tourists, so she 
wanted to wear something nice, but casual. The dining 
room was likely to be filled with people in t-shirts, 
shorts and flip-flops. She settled on a pair of forest 
green shorts that were of a decent length – as her 
mother would have said – and a gold, sleeveless top. It 
was gathered at the waist so as to hint at the style of 
a bustier. She put on eye liner, lip gloss and just 
enough powder to smooth her face. She slipped into a 
pair of sandals with a low wedge. She'd be eye to eye 
with Bret now. 

She drove back to the hotel and arrived a few minutes 
early. Bret was seated in the lobby, tapping at his 
Blackberry. He stood as she entered and gave her an 
appreciative look. The dining room was nice, if a 
little noisy. They both had steak, potato and salad 
bar. Bret had a couple of glasses of wine, while Nancy 
had to stick to iced tea. 

After the meal Nancy drove them to her father's 
business. She parked next to the repair shop, and they 
entered through a side door. Nancy very carefully cut 
off the burglar alarm and flipped on the lights. They 
had to walk through a maze of mowers that were waiting 
for repair in order to reach the corner that was 
devoted to her kart. 

"Here we are," announced Nancy as she gestured with a 
wave of her hand. Her kart was on a waist high stand. 
One of the rear wheels was off where one of the crew 
had been working on the brake. On the wall was hung an 
extra chassis and other major components sat on a 
nearby shelf. Everything was spotless. Her father 
insisted that his crew spend the last twenty minutes of 
the work day in cleaning the shop and returning every 
tool to its storage area.  

"Very nice," said Bret. He looked everything over; he 
even opened drawers and eyed the racked tools. "Do you 
have your budget and race schedule handy?" he asked. 

"Oh, yeah," said Nancy. She had forgotten about that. 
"It's in the office." She picked her was back across 
the repair area, walked down a hallway and entered the 
shop's office. This was the domain of Florence, an 
elderly lady who kept the books and acted as cashier 
for the business. A folder sat squared up evenly on the 
blotter of her immaculate desk, right where Nancy's 
father had said it would be. 

She turned to leave the office, but Bret had trailed 
her and was standing in the doorway. She handed the 
file to him. He glanced over the papers, nodding his 
head as he read. When he closed the file, Nancy asked, 
"So, how did we do?" 

"Well," said Bret, "there are three levels of aid from 
Max: A, B and C. We give C-level to pretty much anyone 
who buys our engine. It's just some advanced technical 
support. B-level teams get free hats and jackets and 
some travel money when they show the Max advertising. 
A-level teams get all that plus engines that have been 
breathed upon, as the saying goes, by our racing 
experts."

"Oh, I see," said Nancy. "So where do we stand?"

Locking his eyes on hers, Bret stepped near and leaned 
past Nancy in order to put the file back on the desk. 
His chest was almost brushing her tits when he said, 
"Your team is a solid B, but very near to qualifying 
for A."

Nancy didn't back away. She didn't even glance away 
from Bret's steady gaze. "What puts us up to an A-
level?" she asked softly. 

"It depends on my judgment of the team, and of the 
driver's commitment. How committed are you, Nancy?" he 
said just as softly. 

Nancy wasn't sure who kissed who first, but their lips 
met. Oh my God, he can really kiss, she thought. He 
tasted of wine and the mints they'd had after dinner. 
His lips were firm and moist and his tongue was very 
playful. Not like the high school boys she was use to. 
They tended to go for her tonsils immediately. 

Bret couldn't believe this was happening. He was 
happily married and had a child. He didn't need to 
insinuate a bribe to get sex. But this girl was 
unbelievably hot. She wasn't shy, and she didn't act 
coy. He bet that a boy who made at pass at Nancy either 
got laid fast and hard, or got kicked in the balls. Her 
tongue was fluttering around in his mouth, and those 
two glorious mounds of her breasts, the ones he'd been 
trying hard not to stare at all evening, were pressed 
firmly against his chest. Damn, he was hard. His dick 
was a steel rod in his slacks and he knew she could 
feel it.

Nancy reached between their bodies and squeezed Bret's 
hard-on. He shuddered and moaned into her mouth. Even 
as she played with his tongue, she began to calculate 
just how far to take this. She ran her palm up and down 
the bulge of his rigid shaft. His hips pulsed back and 
forth, dry fucking her hand. That gave her an idea. 

Bret felt abandoned when Nancy broke their kiss. Was 
she going to leave him with a case of blue balls? He 
hadn't put her down as some sort of cock tease, but you 
never could tell. 

Nancy sat at the desk chair and said, "Pull down your 
pants; I think Flo has just what we need here 
somewhere." 

He had no idea who Flo was, although he assumed she was 
whoever worked at that desk. His hands flew as he undid 
his belt, unbuttoned and unzipped his pants and pushed 
them to his knees. His cock was clearly outlined 
against his underwear. There was a wet stain where the 
tip pressed against the white material. The hot teen 
had him leaking pre-cum already. 

He watched as Nancy pulled open and shut a couple of 
drawers, evidently searching for something. "Here we 
go," she said as she pulled a tube of aloe cream out of 
the desk. She looked at his lumpy underwear and smiled 
indulgently at Bret. "These go too," she said and 
pulled down his skivvies to release seven inches of 
slender man-meat. The twitching cock had a slight curve 
to the left. She took the cap off the tube and squirted 
a generous helping of skin cream into her palm. 

Bret pulled his shirttail out of the way. He was pretty 
sure he knew what was coming next. Nancy rubbed her 
palms together and then reached for his straining cock. 
He expected her to simply grab his dick and pound away, 
but to his surprise, her touch was much gentler. 

She began by simply running her fingertips back and 
forth along the length of his pulsing dick. She tickled 
his balls as she let them fall across her fingers. A 
stream of clear pre-cum leaked from his distended slit. 
Nancy caught it on the tip of her finger and massaged 
the hot liquid into the head of his dick. 

She began to stroke him lightly massaging the length of 
his cock with first one hand and then the other. She 
stroked downward with both hands for a few seconds and 
then upwards. Then she held the base of his cock with 
one hand, and with the other she worked her fingers in 
a corkscrew motion around the flared head. 

"Oh, Nancy, that's unbelievable," he said with a gasp. 
He was in heaven, but it wasn't going to last. He'd 
been on the road for over a week with no sex, no wet 
dreams; he hadn't even masturbated. The pressure was 
too much. But she must have sensed his eminent orgasm 
because suddenly she stopped and went back to the light 
caresses of her fingertips. 

She brought him to the peak once more, and once more 
she stopped short of bringing him off. Bret's hands 
fluttered at his sides. She had him dying to cum and he 
loved it, but it was all he could do not to grab his 
dick and pound away like a horny kid. 

"You're killing me," he moaned. 

Nancy simply smiled at the look of sexual agony on 
Bret's face. "Okay," she said with a wink. She formed a 
circle just under his cock-head with her forefinger and 
thumb. Then she began to rub that sensitive area with 
the lightest of touches. 

Bret thought his cock was going to explode from the 
pressure brought about by her teasing touch. His cock-
head was swollen and turning purple. It was only a 
couple of minutes but it seemed as if an age had passed 
before he was able to moan, "Oh, shit... I'm going to 
cum... oh, Nancyyyyy!"

A shot of cock-cream leapt from the end of his dick and 
fell on Nancy's hand. She felt his cock pulse time and 
again. She twisted her hand on his dick-head as more 
hot, thick cream flowed over her fingers. She was 
impressed by amount of spunk. She laughed and said, 
"You were saving up, weren't you?"

"Oh, shit, baby... yeah, it's been a while," he said as 
his breathing returned to normal. He felt as if he'd 
run a marathon. 

Fortunately, Flo's desk yielded up a box of tissues. In 
a few minutes, they were cleaned up and Bret was zipped 
up. The evidence was flushed away. 

"So, do we rate the A-level funding?" Nancy asked as 
they walked out of the building. 

"Oh, yeah, no problem there," Bart said. 

"Cool," said Nancy. So do you sign the papers now or 
what?"

"Well, it doesn't quite work like that," Bret said. 
"Your father will have to fill out requests for 
different types of funding, and..." He stopped when he 
saw Nancy's face begin to cloud up in anger. He held up 
his hands to forestall the storm. "Hey, I can prepare a 
letter of agreement the second I can get to my 
briefcase."

They drove back to his hotel. Nancy parked the Explorer 
and got out at the same time as Bret. She took his arm 
as they walked to the door. "You don't trust me about 
that letter?" he asked in amusement as they crossed the 
lobby and waited for the elevator. 

The elevator arrived, and they stepped in followed by 
an elderly couple. As the elevator rose, Nancy put her 
lips next to his ear and said softly, "I trust you 
about the letter all right." She reached down and 
cupped his cock and balls. "I just thought that you 
might be in shape by now to fuck my brains out."

The old man, who was standing in front of them, turned 
his head to look at Nancy. His wife cleared her throat 
in a no nonsense manner, and he jerked his eyes back to 
the front of the elevator cab. 

The elevator stopped and the couple left the cab. Just 
before they passed out of sight, the man craned his 
head back and gave Nancy a broad wink. She laughed as 
the door closed.

* 

Nancy grinned evilly at the boys in the Honda – she'd 
decided that the coupe, tricked out in hideous green 
with black accent stripes, had begun life as a stock 
Honda. She downshifted from sixth to fifth to fourth to 
third, double-clutching with each gear change. 

The Honda driver inched closer to the pickup. He 
glanced back and forth between it and Nancy's Corvette, 
obviously waiting for the first instant where he could 
swerve in front of her. 

Nancy watched that gap too, and just before it opened 
she smoothly pushed her right foot to the floor. The 
monster v-eight roared and the 'Vette shot forward. For 
an instant, she thought she'd misjudged the distance 
between the van to her front and the pickup to her 
left, but the gap was there and she shot through it. 
She checked her rearview mirror. The Honda swerved 
right in an attempt to follow, but now the pickup and 
van blocked its way. 

Nancy lifted her foot off the throttle; she was already 
doing eighty-five. She shifted into sixth gear and let 
the car's speed drift down to the speed limit. There 
was no need for her to have to talk her way out of a 
speeding ticket. The traffic thickened as she drove 
through downtown and then thinned once more on the 
other side. She kept an eye on the traffic to her rear 
and sure enough, she soon saw the Honda quickly eating 
up the distance between them. 

She didn't have time to play with these yahoos. There 
was an exit ahead; it wasn't the one she wanted, but 
she could use it. A glance in the mirror told her that 
the Honda was going recklessly fast. The exit lane 
began and curved away to her right as it widened, 
leaving an unused strip of asphalt, full of dust, 
gravel and bits of tire, between the lanes. 

Just as the Honda would have to brake to match her 
speed, Nancy jerked the Corvette onto the dirty 
divider. The car began to slide; she had expected that 
and she corrected her steering for it, trying not to 
look at the blunt, collapsible abutment growing ever 
larger in her side window. She heard the scream of 
locked tires behind her as the Honda tried to slow for 
the exit, but she knew they wouldn't make it. Finally, 
the sticky Goodyears on her Corvette caught traction 
and she went cruising down the exit road. She looked to 
her left and saw the Honda vanishing down the 
expressway. "Ta-ta, guys," she said as she pulled up to 
a red light. 

"Call Bush," Nancy said distinctly to her car phone as 
she neared the North Clift Mall. When he answered, she 
asked, "Where's our subject?"

Bush chuckled at her nomenclature and said, "Wait one." 
Less than a minute later he was back. "Like a good boy, 
he's at The VideoGamester," he said, mentioning a shop 
that, as one would expect, specialized in video and 
computer games.

"Thanks, Herb, I know where that is. You can pull your 
guy off now," Nancy said. 

"No problem, just remember me when the Christmas 
bonuses come out."

"You know I will," said Nancy. "See you." She broke the 
connection. 

Nancy parked the 'Vette and hustled inside the mall 
entrance nearest VideoGamester. She hurried down a 
short hallway and came to a sitting area situated under 
a skylight. On the other side of the sitting area was 
the entrance to VideoGamester. She took a seat on a 
bench and pulled out her cell phone. She feigned a call 
while she peered into the small store. It wasn't hard 
to spot Ron Fuller. He was playing one of the game 
systems the store had on display. 

He'd let his hair grow out mop top style in the latest 
trend for boys. He was wearing lose fitting jeans and 
shirt. He was taller than she thought he would be. Of 
course she hadn't been studying his height in the video 
where she'd first seen him. Thinking of that video, her 
eyes drifted to his crotch. Well, he was wearing loose 
cargo pants and an oversized polo shirt that came 
nearly to his knees. If he had a noticeable cock bulge 
through all that, he'd be grotesque. 

Nancy put up her phone and took a notepad and a pen 
from her bag. Ron had stopped playing and now he was 
ambling out of the store. Nancy intercepted him within 
a few steps and said, "Hi, I noticed you coming out of 
the game store, do you have a few minutes to answer 
some questions?"

Ron looked startled as the beautiful blonde spoke to 
him. It was all he could do not to speak directly into 
her bosom when he said, "Uhhh... yeah, I guess so." 

"Great, if you don't mind we'll sit over here," Nancy 
said, gesturing to one of the empty benches. "My 
company is taking a survey on what the average video 
game player likes." 

Nancy had taken classes at MIT that related directly to 
game design. It wasn't hard to dazzle Ron with some 
tech-speak. They talked for several minutes as Nancy 
made unnecessary notes, purely for Ron's benefit. When 
it looked as if his attention was about to wander, she 
said, "We have some openings for young people like 
yourself to come by our offices and give us your 
opinion on some cutting edge consumer technology. How 
would you like to be one?"

Ron hesitated. 

Nancy gave him her warmest smile. "It's not a test or 
anything, and I'll be with you the whole time."

That reassured Ron. He said, "I'll have to tell my mom, 
but that sounds cool."

At that moment his pants began to play the Darth Vader 
theme from 'Star Wars.' Ron pulled out his cell phone. 
"Hey, Mom," he said as he answered. "Yeah, I'll be 
there in just a minute, bye." He slid the phone back in 
his pants. "That's her now; I'm supposed to join her in 
the food court." 

"Oh," said Nancy, "why don't I come along and meet 
her?"

"Okay, sure," said Ron. 

They made their way the food court. Ron led the way 
through the rows of bolted down, plastic coated tables 
to where an attractive brunette was sipping at a soda. 
There were several shopping bags on and beneath her 
table. 

As they approached, Ron said, "Mom, this is...uh,"

"Nancy, Nancy Webster," she said, coming to Ron's 
Rescue. She stuck out her hand.

"Nice to meet you. I'm Ginny," she said, taking Nancy's 
hand. The look on her face made it clear that she was 
wondering why some stranger was walking around with her 
son. Between Ron and Nancy, they filled her in on the 
invitation.

"Well, that sound interesting," she said, looking at 
Ron. "Would you like to do it?"

Ron nodded. 

"Well, that's great," said Nancy before there could be 
any more discussion. She took a business card from her 
bag and wrote on its back. She handed the card to 
Ginny. "If you could bring Ron to this address on 
Saturday – say about two o'clock?"

Once everything was settled, Nancy took the opportunity 
to do some shopping. She wandered through a few stores 
and then headed back to her car. The mall's parking 
garage had two levels. Nancy had backed her Corvette 
into a spot that abutted one of the ramps to the upper 
level. The spot was out of way and she had used it in 
an effort to avoid parking lot dings and scratches. She 
had to walk farther to get into the mall of course, but 
she didn't mind. 

When Nancy came into sight of her car she saw that 
someone had parked next to her Corvette despite its out 
of the way status. "Aw shit," she muttered. The car 
next to hers was the ugly green Honda. The two guys 
were leaning against its fender. A loud bass line was 
thudding from the car's speakers. She might have 
expected this. It wouldn't have been a huge leap of 
logic for them to search the local mall parking for her 
fairly unique car. 

Nancy made sure that her car keys were set firmly in 
her fingers just in case she had to gouge out an eye. 
She studied the two young men as she walked closer. One 
was a little over six feet with blonde, surfer-boy 
hair. The other guy was darker, shorter and stockier 
with dark, also shaggy hair. They were both dressed in 
jeans and tees. The blonde was wearing sandals, and his 
friend was shod with some sort of boots. She guessed 
that they were around twenty years old, maybe college 
students; maybe slackers with nothing better to do than 
stalk women. 

When she got nearer, the blonde said, "Hey, what's up?"

At least she thought that's what he said. The music was 
echoing off the cement walls of the garage and it was 
obviously going to make conversation impossible. She 
smiled and held up her forefinger to signal them to 
wait. She went to the door of the Honda, opened it and 
switched the car's ignition from the accessory position 
to off. 

"That's better," she said. "Nice sound system, nice 
car," she added, lying through her teeth. 

"Thanks," said the blonde. "You know, we almost wrecked 
trying to catch you."

Nancy shrugged. "I didn't ask for you to chase me."

"Oh yes you did. A hot blonde babe in a Corvette like 
that, who runs off like you did is just begging to be 
followed," said the blonde with what looked like an 
attempt at a charming grin. 

"Well, now you've caught me," she said coolly. "What do 
you want?"

"How about a date?" the blonde said. "We can talk 
cars." 

"I don't think so," Nancy said. "I don't think you can 
afford it." She stepped toward her car, but the blonde 
stepped in her way, and the other guy moved a step and 
looked as if was ready to block her from the other 
side. 

"Don't worry about an expensive meal," the blonde guy 
said. "It's what will come afterwards that you'll 
really like." 

"Oh?" said Nancy. She pointedly looked down at his 
crotch. "Do you have anything worth my time?"

"We both do." This came from the dark haired guy. He 
reached to his groin and adjusted himself. The blonde 
didn't seem very pleased that his buddy had intruded.

Nancy pursed her lips and looked the twosome over as if 
she was considering their offer. She said, "Okay, why 
don't we cut to the chase. Tell you what; I'll let the 
guy fuck me who has the biggest dick. The other one 
gets a blow job – just so he won't feel left out. In 
fact, I'll do him first."

That got the guys' attention. The blonde one looked at 
his friend and said, "Hey, At least you get sucked 
off."

"I've seen your dick. I wasn't too impressed," the 
darker one said. He looked at Nancy. "Where and when?"

"Right here, and right now," said Nancy. "Otherwise, 
forget it."

"In a fucking parking garage?" said the blonde, 
sounding incredulous as he looked around. 

"That's right," she said. "What's the matter? We'll do 
it between the cars. Being outside - the danger that we 
might get caught - that just spices things up."

Now it was the blonde's turn to purse his lips in 
thought. On the other side of the ramp, he could hear 
the sounds of car doors being opened and closed. A 
hundred feet away, on the access road, the occasional 
car drove by. There didn't seem to be a high likelihood 
that they would be caught. Not that it mattered. The 
curvaceous woman before him had a real smirk on her 
face. She was just daring him. 

"Alright," the blonde said. He pulled down his zipper, 
and a second later he heard his friend do the same. 

The blonde was already half hard. This was going down 
like a letter in a man's magazine. Maybe those 
vignettes weren't all lies. Maybe ordinary guys did get 
laid by strangers in strange places. He stroked his 
dick up to a full hard-on. A few feet away his buddy 
was actually pulling on his dick, stretching it from 
his pant's fly. 

Nancy couldn't believe they were going along with this. 
Well, that wasn't quite true. She was used to guys 
doing pretty much whatever she wanted once she'd gotten 
their blood flowing out of their brains and into their 
cocks. She examined the two dicks before her. They were 
both perfectly ordinary. 

"Hmmm...it's close, but I think you get the blow job," 
she told the dark haired guy. 

The dark haired guy looked at his friend's dick and 
then said to Nancy, "I could argue the point, but I 
don't think I'm really losing out."

Nancy hit the remote on her key fob and door to her 
Corvette unlocked with a solid clunk. 

"Hey, where're you going?" 

"Don't worry," said Nancy. "I'm just going to sit here. 
You can stick that nice, fat hunk of meat in the 
window." 

"Oh, yeah, I see," said the dark haired guy. 

Nancy was a little surprised that they were going to 
let her get in her car – these guys were really 
thinking with their hard-ons. She got into the Corvette 
and put the key in the ignition. She put down the 
driver's side window. The young man came close and put 
his hard-on close enough for her to get to. She licked 
the end of her forefinger, and then she swirled it 
around the red head of his dick. While she did that she 
checked for traffic, put in the 'Vette's clutch, made 
sure the transmission was in reverse gear, started the 
engine and let the car leap backward twenty feet. 

Nancy turned the wheel and squirted the car down to the 
access road where she turned hard left and stopped so 
that she could see what her two erstwhile lovers were 
doing. She knew the dark haired guy probably had a 
bruised cock. It had dragged across the edge of the 
window as she had pulled out. 

The twosome had already jumped into the Honda. Seconds 
passed, and then the driver's door opened and the 
blonde jumped out. He gave her the finger with both 
hands, pumping them up and down for emphasis as he 
screamed, "Fuck you, bitch."

"Now that wasn't very nice," Nancy said. She stuck her 
hand out the window and jangled the keys to the Honda. 
She had palmed them when she had turned off the Honda's 
sound system. She flipped the keys over the top of the 
Corvette, and then turned her head to see them fly over 
a guard rail and down an embankment. She imagined that 
it would take at least a few minutes of looking before 
they could be found. 

*

The following Saturday, Nancy was in the guard house at 
the main gate of Ka-Gen. She chatted with the guard – 
another of Herb Bush's retired policeman named Phil. 

A Toyota Avalon pulled up to the gate. Nancy could see 
that it was Ron and his mother. As she watched, Ron 
gave his mother a goodbye kiss on the lips that had 
Nancy lifting an eyebrow in surprise. Well, different 
strokes for different folks, she thought. She and her 
mother usually exchanged air kisses, and her father was 
into rib-cracking bear hugs. 

Nancy picked a visitor's pass from a box. "Okay to use 
this one?" she asked Phil. 

"That's fine, Ms. Webster," the guard said, making a 
notation of the pass' number on a clipboard. 

Nancy met Ron as he stepped out of the car. "Hi, Ron," 
she said, shaking his hand. 

The Ka-Gen company occupied several buildings. The 
administration building, where Nancy and Ron were 
headed, was practically deserted on weekends. Nancy had 
to swipe her employee pass through a card reader and 
then enter a code into a keypad in order to get through 
the front door. She had to use her pass again to use 
the elevator, and then once more to enter a room 
designated 'Conference – A' by a small bronze plaque. 

"You guys don't trust anybody," Ron said as Nancy they 
entered the room. 

Nancy laughed. "You're right. It's a cutthroat 
business; we can't afford to take chances." Once they 
entered the room, she tapped in a code on the inner 
lock. Now no one could get in the room unless she let 
them in. That wasn't quite true. In case of an 
emergency, security could open the room and of course, 
Gene Pearson, the head of the company had access. 

Conference-A looked like a small theatre. At the end of 
the room was a screen about eight feet high and twelve 
feet wide. There were a dozen plush, leather seats for 
viewers. Behind those seats were two more, but these 
had a console between them. The console sported a 
keyboard and monitor on a swing arm. Nearest the door 
was a conference table of polished wood and matching 
chairs. A thick rug carpeted the floor. Muted lighting 
gave the room an intimate atmosphere. 

The room was used for presentations to prospective 
clients. It had one big wow factor. The screen wasn't 
used to reflect projected images. It was one huge, 
seamless high definition monitor. The power of the 
multi-processor computer used to run the screen was 
just as impressive. The setup was for sale. The 
government had purchased a few, and it was disinclined 
to see the technology leave the country, so that made 
the pool of potential buyers very small. An individual 
needed to have the word billionaire appended to his 
name in order to even think about buying one. 

"Have a seat over there," Nancy told Ron. She pointed 
to the seat to the right of the console. She sat in the 
other leather upholstered seat and adjusted the 
keyboard until it hung just above her lap. She tapped 
on the keys. The dusty street of an old west town 
appeared on the screen. A second later, the barrel of a 
pistol and a crosshair came up. Nancy opened a drawer 
in the console and withdrew a game controller. "Give it 
a try," she said, handing the controller to Ron. 

"Oh cool," said Ron. "This is an awesome set up." He 
set out to track down the bad guys. He entered a 
building and walked to the center of a room. They could 
hear footsteps and the creak of a wooden floor from 
speakers placed low in the conference room. Ron 
actually turned his head to see if there was someone to 
his right. The sound system was just as impressive as 
the visuals. 

As Ron blasted away at an armed intruder, Nancy heard a 
soft chirp from the keyboard and monitor. She looked 
down to see a message. It was from her boss, Gene. It 
said: 'How's it going?'

She looked up to a point just above the big screen. 
There was a concealed camera there. It was used to 
gauge the viewers' reactions to whatever was being 
shown on the big screen. She lifted one eyebrow and 
tilted her head just enough to imply that she was the 
one doing all the heavy lifting here and she didn't 
need his interference. 

'Just wondering,' popped up on her screen. Nancy 
suppressed a smile. She could imagine Gene sitting in 
his big executive chair, casually groping at his crotch 
in anticipation of what he hoped was coming soon. 

Nancy let Ron play for several minutes and then she 
judged it was time to move on. She said to him, "Okay, 
let's try something different." She tapped at her 
keyboard and the scene of battle on the big screen 
faded away to be replaced by a view of sand, surf, palm 
trees and, off to the left, a volleyball net. On the 
far side of the net were two life size Asian beauties 
clad in bikinis. 

Both women had dark hair. although one had shoulder 
length tresses and the other wore hers very short. The 
girl with the short hair had a tattoo of a dragon above 
her left breast. And there was a lot of breast flesh to 
be seen as her bikini, as well as the one her partner 
wore, was on the skimpy side. The women seemed to be 
waiting on something or someone. The one with the long 
hair casually tossed a volleyball up and down as she 
talked quietly to her partner. Occasionally, one of 
them would look through the net and giggle.

"Move the left joystick until you can see me," said a 
familiar voice to the left of Ron and Nancy. 

"Hmmm?" said Ron, looking confused.

"It's the tutorial part of the game," said Nancy.

"Oh, yeah," said Ron. He move the joystick and the view 
on the screen swung around. Now the background was a 
set of bleachers fronted by colorful flags waving in 
the sea breeze. But in front of that, on the volleyball 
court, was a gorgeous, busty young woman. Her thick, 
long blonde hair swayed in the light wind. Her bikini 
was little more than thick ribbons that hid her areolas 
and vulva. 

"It's you," said Ron.

"Yes, it is," Nancy said. The programming team for this 
game had come to her and asked her, pleaded actually, 
if she would be their primary model. She had spent 
hours in a black body suit studded with white balls 
while a computer mapped out her contortions as she 
spiked, served and set balls thrown over a net. Once 
inside the computer, the programmers had smoothed out 
some of her more awkward moves so that her near photo-
realistic volleyball avatar looked like a real pro. 

"How do you like the suit?" Nancy asked with a grin. No 
girl would wear such a skimpy bikini to play in. She'd 
be naked about twenty seconds into the game. Computer 
magic let her tits sway and bobble about all they 
wanted without fear of being exposed. 

"It's...uh... cool," Ron said, not meeting her eye. He 
was dying here. He was so freaking horny that it wasn't 
funny. 

*

It had begun last night. Ordinarily, he would have 
screwed his mother once or twice – okay, it was a 
Friday night, so maybe four or five times. Anyway, she 
was in charge of a dinner; some big shot at her work 
was retiring. She'd left the house in the late 
afternoon and he'd decided that he wouldn't beat off or 
anything; he'd just wait for her juicy pussy. But then 
there'd been an impromptu meeting after the dinner, and 
his mom had had to stay for that. So he'd been asleep 
when she returned, and she'd been too tired to wake 
him. 

Since Ron had stayed up late waiting for Ginny to come 
home, he had slept late on Saturday morning, and he'd 
awakened with a fierce morning hard-on. He'd heard his 
mom puttering around in the kitchen; no doubt getting 
ready for their usual Saturday morning breakfast of 
waffles. He'd jumped out of bed and given his cock a 
couple of strokes. Instantly, he was ready for sex. He 
wasn't even going to take a piss. He didn't care what 
she was doing in the kitchen; his mother was going to 
get drilled, or give him a blow-job, or something. He 
strode into the kitchen with his dick swing from side 
to side as if it were a meaty club clearing the way. 
That was when Jenny's laptop - she always left it open 
on the counter, began to chirp. Jenny glanced at the 
screen and then turned to Ron and his rampant cock. 

"It's that appointment we made for you with that woman 
at Ka-Gen," she said, inclining her head at the 
computer display. 

"Oh, come on, something quick," Ron had said. 

The more they screwed, the more pliant his mother 
became. But this time she had shaken her head, saying, 
"We made an agreement, honey, and we've just got time 
for you to shower and get there. Besides, we'll have 
the rest of the day together." She bent over and kissed 
the head of his throbbing erection. "Save it for later, 
for me."

"Oh, alright," he'd grumbled as he stomped out of the 
kitchen. 

*

Now, on the screen, a life size Nancy was telling him 
how to use the controller in order to play the game. He 
was having trouble following her instructions because 
every little move she made had her tits swaying 
provocatively. He cut his eyes to the left and stole a 
peek at the very real mounds that the true Nancy had in 
her t-shirt. She looked hot. The silky looking top 
hugged and defined her big boobs. And the short shorts 
she had on really showed off her long, smooth legs. Ron 
kind of doubted that she wore stuff like this to work 
every day, but it was a Saturday. 

He shifted in his seat, causing his dick to ache even 
more. His balls felt like two swollen and inflamed 
rocks between his legs. His dick was crammed into his 
shorts, else it would be practically poking through the 
front of his pants about now. 

Ron finally managed to get his head back in the game. 
He learned to move around the court, spiking, setting 
and digging shots with demonstrations from the on 
screen Nancy. 

After several minutes of play, Nancy asked, "So, how do 
you like that one?"

"Cool, the players look really great," Ron said.

Nancy smiled. "I meant the game play." 

"Oh, yeah," said Ron, "it's cool too." They talked 
about the game for a few minutes.

Nancy entered a series of commands on her keyboard. "I 
have one more thing for you to look at," she said.

Ron watched the screen expectantly as the game faded 
away to be replaced by what looked like a bedroom, or 
maybe a hotel room. Across the room a door opened and 
he saw himself enter the room, followed closely by 
Karen Pearson. 

"Whaaa....uhhh..." he said in wonderment, gesturing at 
the screen.

"You didn't know that you were being videoed?" Nancy 
asked.

"No...no I didn't," Ron said. He squirmed in 
embarrassment, knowing what would be happening on the 
screen in a few minutes. In fact it was happening now. 
The video had been edited. There he was, practically 
life sized, getting his dick licked and sucked by Ms. 
Pearson. 

"Ron, do you know who runs Ka-Gen?" Nancy asked. 

Ron was glad to be able to pull his eyes away from the 
screened fellatio. Nancy had a playful look in her 
eyes. He shook his head no in answer to her question. 

"His name is Eugene Pearson and..." she gestured to the 
woman on the screen with a mouth full of oversized boy-
cock. 

"He's Ms. Pearson's husband?" Ron asked, a definite 
hint of 'oh shit' in his voice. 

"Don't worry," she said. "You're not in trouble. Please 
come here." She motioned for him to stand before her. 

Ron put down the game controller and arose stiffly, in 
both senses of the word, from his seat. The shock of 
the last few moments hadn't affected his hard-on. 

Nancy swung the keyboard aside and scooted forward 
until she was practically knee to knee with Ron. "I'm 
sure you know just how special you are," she said as 
she ran her hands up his thighs. 

Ron quivered in anticipation. He'd been fucking grown 
women for weeks now, and they were all nice looking. 
But Nancy was like...like a model or a Playboy bunny 
with her angelic face, and her great hair, and her tits 
out to here, and she even smelled great. And now she 
was unbuttoning his pants. 

Nancy unbuttoned and unzipped the pair of jeans that 
hung loosely from Ron's slender hips. She hooked her 
fingers inside his under shorts and then pulled down 
both pants and shorts in one long swoop. Ron's cock 
swung outward and upward, barely missing Nancy's face 
as it ran free. 

"Oh My God," she exclaimed as the amazing hunk of male 
sex waved in her face. She'd seen every second of Ron 
and Karen's video so she knew very well what his cock 
looked like. But to have it throbbing in her face made 
her pussy sweat. 

Ron grinned at the expression on Nancy's face. He'd 
seen that look on other women of course. It was a 
mixture of awe and anticipation. Nancy grasped his cock 
with both hands and pulled it downwards. 

Nancy tugged at his cock. It was unbelievably thick and 
hot. As the cum-slit at the tip of the wide head came 
into view, a clear drop of pre-cum formed and began to 
drool. Her tongue licked out and caught the droplet. 
She used her tongue to swirl the syrupy thick liquid 
around his cock-head. 

"Mmmm...sweet," she said with a smile, looking up at 
Ron. 

"Yeah," he said thickly. He pulsed his hips forward 
urging the beautiful blonde to get on with it. 

Nancy kissed and licked at the turgid cock-head. She 
opened her lips wide and tried to engulf its width. Her 
tongue frenched the slit as a steady stream of pre-cum 
began to leak. She started to stroke him off, using 
both hands. The skin of his rigid cock-shaft was 
incredibly smooth and soft. 

Nancy took his balls in hand. They were huge and his 
sac was already tight against his teen crotch. His dick 
was jerking in her mouth regularly and she felt his 
fingers in her hair. She didn't have to be a cock-
sucking slut to recognize the signs of a guy about to 
blow his wad. 

Ron very nearly whined in frustration when Nancy pulled 
away and pushed back his cock. His hands fell back to 
his sides. She clamped her hand around the end of his 
cock as if she was trying to stop a hose from 
squirting. She shook her hair back into place and 
smiled at him. "Not yet, big boy," she said. "How would 
you like some nice, tight pussy?"

"Ohhh...yeah...please," said Ron, trying to sound as if 
the idea hadn't been burning in his mind. 

"Why don't you get a little less entangled," she said, 
gesturing to the clothing that lay around his ankles. 
She released his cock and a couple of ounces of pent up 
boy juice arced through the air and landed with a soft 
splat on the rug. Ron eagerly did a heel and toe job to 
doff his shoes. He stepped out of his pants and shorts. 
Wearing nothing but his shirt and socks he turned in 
time to see Nancy pull off her tee-shirt. Her bra was 
nothing like the ones his mother wore. It was the color 
of Nancy's creamy skin and her tits swelled above the 
inner sides of the cups. The cups were connected by the 
thinnest of straps at the bottom. 

Next she removed her shorts. She had to tug on the 
legs, shifting her weight from one foot to the other in 
order to skin them off. She laid the clothes neatly 
across one of the seatbacks. Sweeping her hair back 
over her shoulders, Nancy thrust her tits out as she 
unclasped her bra and shrugged it off. She saw that Ron 
was getting an eyeful so she twirled the flimsy garment 
around her finger a couple of times with a laugh before 
she let it fall onto her shorts and top. A few seconds 
later her matching bikini panties followed. 

Ron looked both adorable and sinfully sexy at the same 
time. His slightly oversized blue and red striped knit 
shirt would have hung to mid-thigh if it hadn't been 
draped over his outsized cock. It was pointed very 
nearly at the ceiling, and it twitched with Ron's every 
heartbeat. 

Nancy put her forefinger into her mouth to the middle 
knuckle. When she withdrew the slickened digit, she 
reached between her legs and rubbed it in circles over 
her clit. "Do you know how to eat a pussy?" she asked 
Ron. Somehow, she wasn't surprised when the boy 
enthusiastically nodded yes. 

Nancy sat herself down once more. She scooted her ass 
across the butter smooth leather to the edge of the 
seat, and then she lifted her legs and spread them wide 
across the seat's arms as athletically as any gymnast. 

Ron didn't need any further encouragement. He went to 
his knees between Nancy's silky thighs. He didn't just 
immediately swoop in on her pussy lips. He kissed and 
licked his way along her creamy skin that lead to the 
prize of her pink pussy lips. Laying his thumb on the 
hood of her clit, he lightly swept it back and forth. 

Nancy moaned softly. The boy was amazing. Had Karen 
Pearson taught this boy so much? She must have been 
fucking him for weeks. Or was Karen not his only 
partner? Nancy shuddered as she imagined the sweet 
looking Ron screwing his way through a harem, leaving 
numerous women sated with sex. Damn, despite her busy 
sex life, she couldn't remember the last time she'd 
been this turned on. At last, when she was about to 
demand that he stop teasing, Ron parted her pussy lips 
with his thumbs and licked his tongue up its length. 

"Oh yessss...that's it, baby," she cooed. 

Ron licked across the stiff nub of her clit, and then 
thrust his tongue into her weeping cunt and kissed her 
swollen labia. And then he did it all over again, and 
again, and again. This was better, but it was still 
just a big tease. And Nancy was past the point of 
teasing. For his age, Ron was a master of foreplay. He 
could probably make the driest old crone in the world 
wet with desire. But Nancy was more than ready to get 
her cum. She was seconds from grabbing two hands full 
of hair and smashing his face against her puss, when 
Ron snaked a finger into her dripping sex canal and 
immediately found her g-spot. 

"Awww, fuck!" she cried out as the pad of his finger 
locked onto the sensitive bump and began to shake. At 
the same time, his mouth surrounded her clit and he 
sucked it between his lips. His tongue began to flick 
across her swollen mini-cock. With her knees drawn up 
and her cute ass in the air waving erotically, Nancy 
groaned as Ron finger fucked her and made her quiver as 
if she were electrified.

"Eat me, shit, yeah, EAT ME!" Nancy demanded. She flung 
her legs into the air, wrapping them hotly around Ron's 
shoulders. She humped her cunt up and down, smacking 
into his sucking mouth with wet sounds. Her pussy 
shuddered and it milked at Ron's finger as she came. 

Ron wasn't about to wait to let Nancy recover from her 
shattering orgasm. He arose and steadied himself with 
one hand on the back of the seat. His other hand 
wrapped around the steely shaft of his cock and 
painfully bent it down to her glistening pussy lips. He 
yearned to shove his thick meat in there until the 
sparse hair around his cock tickled her clit. Instead 
he very delicately used the tip of his bulbous cock-
head to part her passion swollen lips. 

"Ahhhhhhhhhh!" Ron gasped as he sank his cock into the 
heavenly grasp of Nancy's cunt. "Damn, but you're 
tight," he muttered. 

Nancy ran her fingers along his arms. She laughed deep 
in her throat. "Shit, it feels like you shoved a sexy 
hot baseball bat into my puss. You're going to have to 
stop fucking those old cunts like Karen Pearson." 

Ron realized that he hadn't thought about that. Nancy 
looked as if she was ten or fifteen years younger than 
the other women he'd had so far, and her pussy was 
wonderfully tight. He wondered just how much tighter a 
girl his own age would be. Would he be able to even 
fit? Of course that hardly mattered right now. He sunk 
two more rigid inches into Nancy's hot pink, rich cunt 
and began to surge back and forth. He thought he'd cum 
instantly, but his dick had been so hard for so long it 
was practically numb. 

Ron began to fuck with a steady rhythm. It was great 
for Nancy; she shuddered with ecstasy as the broad back 
of his cock slid over her erect clitoris. She was 
shaking her way through another orgasm when the door at 
the rear of the room opened. A man wearing a dark suit 
with an open collar slipped in quietly and carefully 
closed the door once more. His eyes met Ron's for a 
fraction of a second, and then he looked away as he 
took a seat in one of the upright chairs at the 
conference table. Ron didn't miss a stroke in his 
delectable fucking, after all the man didn't seem to be 
upset or anything. 

Ron leaned forward until his lips brushed Nancy's 
blonde hair and whispered, "Some guy just came in."

Nancy's eyes had had the thousand-yard stare of a woman 
absorbed entirely in the thrilling waves of ecstasy 
rushing through her cunt. But now those eyes came to 
life in a hard, calculating look. 

"Don't worry about it, sweetie," she whispered back. 
Then loudly she said, "Come on, you big stud... you're 
fucking cock is so fucking huge!"

Spurred on, Ron doubled the speed of his strokes. 
Nancy's pussy sucked audibly on his prick shaft as he 
upped the pace of his furious fucking. At last Ron 
could feel the cum boiling in his balls. He was going 
to blow soon and he was going to blow big. 

The slap-slap of balls against her upturned ass mixed 
with their groans and gasps of pleasure and exertion. 
Nancy felt Ron's dick swelling inside her. She knew he 
was going to cum soon, and she ached to feel his hot 
cum fill her to overflowing, but she had other plans – 
ones just as satisfying. 

Ron felt his dick swell; he was just seconds away when 
he heard Nancy say, "Stop!" so forcefully and keenly 
that he halted in mid-stroke. 

"Whaaa..?" he said in confusion as Nancy shoved him 
away until is dick popped free and swung up to slap 
against his tummy. She got to her feet and grasped the 
end of his cock and began to pull. 

"Over here," she said, leading him toward the man 
seated at the rear of the room. 

The man had a look of awe on his face as the 
magnificent blonde with her spectacular figure, and the 
impossibly well hung young man approached. They stopped 
about three feet from where he sat. 

Ron saw that the man had pulled open his fly. He was 
using his thumb and forefinger to jerk at his dick. For 
a second, Ron thought that the man was having trouble 
getting it up. But then he realized that his dick was 
hard, but it was just a tiny little thing. The man wet 
his lips nervously and looked plaintively - first at 
Nancy's mocking face and then at Ron's jutting cock. 

Nancy used one hand to press down on Ron's steely cock 
and her other hand went to the sensitive underside of 
its head. She began to rub furiously and said, "Come 
on, baby. Come on and show him what a real cock can 
do."

Ron didn't know what was going on here, but he didn't 
care. A beautiful woman was jerking him off and he 
needed to lose his load in the worst way. And so he 
did. It felt like a rod of hot metal went rocketing 
through his cock. The pencil thick shot of viscous cum 
shot across the space between Ron's bulging cock-head 
and the seated stranger. It hit with a splat and 
exploded across the chest of the man's immaculate suit 
jacket. 

Nancy aimed Ron's cock like some sort of cum-gun. She 
covered Gene's jacket in cum as the man recoiled and 
stretched his neck in an effort to keep his face away 
from the splatter. But Nancy wasn't about to let him 
get off that easy. She aimed higher and was thrilled to 
see ropes of cum land across Gene's face. He spluttered 
in protest, but never raised a hand. He was too busy 
jerking his fingers along the short, narrow shaft of 
his puny cock. 

Ignoring Ron's grunt of pain, she bent his cock until 
it was firing volleys of boy-cream into Gene's lap. She 
laughed when she saw Gene's cock add its few drops of 
cum to Ron's deluge. 

An hour later, Nancy walked Ron back to the security 
entrance of the Ka-Gen campus. His mother's car was 
already waiting there. "I'm sure that I can rely on 
your discretion, can't I?" she asked Ron while they 
were still out of earshot of anyone. 

Ron squinted at her. "If you mean that I won't tell 
anyone about today, then sure, no problem. These sex 
things just seem to happen to me," he said. 

Nancy glanced at his crotch and said dryly, "I don't 
doubt it." She slipped her hand into one of the pockets 
of her shorts and withdrew a plastic card. She handed 
it to Ron. "That's a gift card," she said. "You can get 
a nice game system, HD display, sound system and even 
several games for the amount on this card." 

"Oh, wow, thanks," Ron said as he took the card and 
flipped it over and over in his hand. 

"Don't mention it. Ever," Nancy said. 

Two months later, Nancy leaned back in her overstuffed 
leather office chair. She'd taken over Gene's spacious 
office as she now ran the company. On paper, he was 
still in charge, but he simply signed off on anything 
she wanted, and that had included the quantum leap in 
her compensation. Gene was now concentrating on the 
software division. That had always been his strength 
and his first love - and he'd already moved several 
projects ahead of schedule. At night, he happily went 
home to his wife. 

Nancy twirled her favorite pen through her fingers. It 
was noon and she was both hungry and horny. She picked 
up her phone and dialed an extension. "Daniel," she 
said when the programmer she used as a sex toy 
answered, "why don't you pick up a salad for me at the 
executive dining room and bring it to my office?" She 
barely heard his reply as she hung up the phone. 

She sighed. A light lunch and then a quick ride on 
Daniel's thick eight inches was just the way to start 
the afternoon. 

End

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It's okay to *READ* stories about unprotected sex with
others outside a monogamous relationship. But it isn't
okay to *HAVE* unprotected sex with people other than
a trusted partner. 4-million people around the world 
contract HIV every year. You only have one body per 
lifetime, so take good care of it!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Kristen's collection - Directory 59