("`-''-/").___..--''"`-._ `6_ 6 ) `-. ( ).`-.__.`) (_Y_.)' ._ ) `._ `. ``-..-' _..`--'_..-_/ /--'_.' ,' (((' (((-((('' (((( K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N _________________________________________ WARNING! This text file contains sexually explicit material. If you do not wish to read this type of literature, or you are under age, PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!! _________________________________________ Scroll down to view text -------------------------------------------------------- This work is copyrighted to the author © 2011. Please don't remove the author information or make any changes to this story. All rights reserved. Thank you for your consideration. -------------------------------------------------------- Twenty-One Today by Entusko (entusko@gmail.com) *** Chris is now legal to buy alcohol but his friends are not. Trying to celebrate with them puts him between the law and the manipulation of a convenience store owner. (MF, reluc, anal, voy) *** Chris rarely liked to think about it, but having been left back a year in middle-school did wasn't all bad. He was the first to get a driver's permit and then a driver's license. And he was the first to be legally allowed to buy alcohol. Of course this meant that his friends could not take him out for drinks. Instead, on Chris' birthday, five of them drove to a neighboring town to buy booze and celebrate in the woods. That, at least, was the plan. They stood in the parking lot and pooled their money and then Chris went inside by himself and chose the biggest bottle of the cheapest liquor he could afford and took the bottle up to the counter. Standing there, a cigarette burning between her fingers, stood the owner. She looked to be in her forties with poorly bleached hair and deeply red lipstick. She had clearly been a very good looking girl earlier on but a hard life had extinguished the brightness in her eyes. Her figure was still good, if a touch heavier, and her face still pretty if run a bit ragged. Mostly it was the absence of a smile that colored her. As Chris approached he put his warmest smile on but she gave him nothing back but a long drag on her cigarette and a longer exhale. "Those your friends out there?" she said, cocking her head at the gaggle of younger guys leaning against his car. "That's right." She leaned over and extinguished her cigarette and pushed a button by the cash register. A moment later a man about her age, bigger and broader and roughly bearded, emerged from the office door beyond the soda dispenser. He strode over slowly, the scent of gasoline and hard work proceeding him. "Yeah?" said the man, clearly frustrated that he had to leave what he was working on. Again she only indicated with a cock of her head, not even looking at the man. Her eyes narrowed on Chris. "He's buying booze for those boys out there." She said. "That ain't legal," said the man, annoyed. "I'm twenty-one today," said Chris pushing his driver's license over to the woman. "Don't matter. Ain't legal," said the man again. "Gotta call the police on this." The man pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped at his hands. He was more annoyed now to have to deal with the situation. "Look, forget it," said Chris reaching for his license. The woman's hand came down on it swiftly and grabbed it up. "We're going to need to talk about this," she said. Now she looked at the man. They had a momentary silent exchange. "Come into the office and we can talk about it. No need for the law coming by today I don't think but I have to make sure I'm not getting in trouble." She grabbed up the bottle with his license and headed off to the office. The man walked past Chris and locked the door and turned the sign to proclaim the store closed for the time being and then headed back to the office himself, hooking an arm around Chris on his return. The office was small. A desk with an assortment of papers and a large wooden cigar box, a few chairs, and some pictures taped to the walls. It smelled of stale smoke and sweat. She plunked the bottle down on the desk and sat down, indicating a seat on the other side of the desk. The man closed the door and pulled a chair from the wall and sat. Chris noticed that his legs extended past the closed door, positioning him like a sentry. Chris sat, nervous and confused. "Here's the thing, sweety," she said coldly, reaching into the deep cigar box for a fresh cigarette and lighting it, "what you did there was a crime. By law I gotta call the cops and have them deal with it. Probably just a fine of a few hundred dollars, maybe a few days in jail or community service." "Is that really necessary?" asked Chris with a hard swallow. Such a thing would be a humiliation to his parents and could be the final mark against holding a job in the bad economy. "'Course it is!" barked the man. He pulled out his cell phone and started looking for the number. "Put that away, Tyne," said the woman, and he did. Turning back to Chris she said "see, if I don't call and this gets out... well, I could lose the shop you see." "And you will!" said the man, Tyne. "I don't think we can afford not to call, Dizz," he said. She only gave him a weak smile. "Look, I don't know -- I'll just..." Chris looked from one to the other. "I won't tell anyone. Let's just forget it. I'll just... I have some money." "Ha!" barked Tyne. "Fucking kid. Snot-nosed piece of shit. This is our business!" he shouted. He was clearly agitated and starting to seem like a potentially dangerous man. "Tyne!" she shouted, putting him in his place. "Tyne, honey, why don't you step out to the front and let me deal with this boy here?" Throwing Chris a last, dirty look he got to his feet. "If it were me, son," he said, spittle on his thick lower lip, "I'd teach you a nice lesson. And then call the cops." With that he opened the door. "I'll be right there," he said to them both, and closed it behind himself. After a moment of silence the woman, Dizz, smiled at Chris. For the first time she seemed attractive to him. He was still used to the smooth, rosy flesh of the girls in his school. "Let's do this," she said finally, "stand up for me." Chris hesitated, fairly confused, and then stood. "You must be six feet tall, are you son?" "Not quite," he said, "five eleven." "Go ahead and turn around and face the wall there and just keep looking at that wall." He had never felt objectified like this and wasn't sure how to feel other than small. He turned to face the wall. A few old, yellow newspaper cartoons had been pinned up. He was too distracted to even be able to process their simple captions. "Go ahead and lower your pants and your underwear." Here the alarm bells went off in Chris' head and he began to turn toward her. She slammed her hand on the table-top with a loud bang that scared him. "I SAID DO NOT TURN AROUND." Chris froze. Tyne poked his head in all of a sudden and asked if things were OK and if he should call the cops afterward. She let the question hang in the air. Finally Chris responded that he shouldn't and Tyne once again left them alone. "Slowly, then," she said. Chris fumbled at the buckle of his belt. The room was still and quiet and the jagged sound of the metal zipper of his jeans being pulled down seemed loud and very personal to his ears. He was thankful that he could not see her. He tucked his thumbs into his pants and his underwear and slowly pushed them down toward his knees. "Slower," she said. He could hear her shifting in her seat. The clothing bunched around his shins and Chris stood back up. He was well made for a young man, with a light fuzz of chestnut hair on his legs and a little on his lower back. He could feel the cool air on his exposed skin, the cleft of his ass. His mouth was dry and he could feel his pulse in his temples. She shifted again and he could hear her undoing her own pants. She exhaled and he could feel her breath drift over his flesh. "Open your legs a bit," she said. Her voice was quiet now, intimate. Chris closed his eyes and opened his stance as much as his pants would allow. He was aware of his balls hanging down, that she would be able to see this from her vantage point and the thought brought a twinge to his cock. And he could hear her shift again. "Put your hands on the wall, son, and bend out to me." "I don't... bend?" Chris put his hands on the wall but wasn't sure what she expected beyond that. "I want to see your ass open up, son." She wants to see my asshole, he thought. A cold chill rocketed through him and he couldn't bring himself to move. He heard her clothing rustle again and then she got up and came around and behind him. He felt her hands grab at his hips and pull his but out. Her hands were warm, perhaps damp. His torso lowered so that he was nearly bent over. He was properly scared now. He felt her place a hand gently on his lower back. She ran it down, over the cheeks of his ass and then between them. Her touch was sensitive and caring. He could hear her breathing and what he assumed was her other hand rubbing between her legs. When her hand sunk between his legs and cupped his balls he felt a jet of power surge to his cock. He realized he was erect. He was humiliated, but erect. She moved up closer to his naked behind. He could feel her warm belly pressed against the side of his ass and she began to grind her pelvis there. He could feel the bristly hair of her cunt. She continued to fondle him, occasionally reaching forward to squeeze his cock. He was breathing heavy, eyes tightly shut. "Now," she said, almost in a whisper, "we have a choice to make." Here, her finger tips traced back to his asshole and ran around it in a tight, gentle circle. "Either I'm going to put my fingers here..." she pushed against him, trying to enter, but he was too tight, "or Tyne can come back and put his cock there instead." Chris let out a brief whimper. "I thought so," she said. "Let's try this," she said. She brought a finger to his mouth and had him suck at it. It was a bit salty and already wet. He knew it had been in her cunt but the thought did little except excite him. She withdrew the wet finger and placed it at his asshole. This time she pushed with determination until it worked it's way up, into his ass. She purred with satisfaction at the accomplishment. Now she got down on the floor and positioned herself between his legs. His stomach lay on the top of her head and he could feel her deep breathing against his erect cock. "You have a very nice cock, son." She said. Never pulling her finger out of his ass, she placed her other hand around the base of his cock and squeezed. "My step- son has a nice cock like this, too." Here she placed her lips at its head. "He once fucked me in the store with it. Yanked up my dress, pulled down my panties and fucked me so fucking hard." She began to stroke him now, slowly back and forth while her one finger pushed occasionally deeper. Chris had never felt anything so intense. "He fucked me so hard that when he pulled out I fell on the floor and saw stars." She wrapped her lips around the head of his cock for a bit. "God I love a young cock. I bet your cum is good, too. Are you going to cum for me?" He moaned. It was all he wanted. "You going to be good and come? You have some nice, warm cum in there for me?" She began to suck him in earnest. When her hand became aware that his balls were growing tight, that he was coming close to orgasm, she would slap them. The sting of pain brought him back from the edge and he would shout out. "You have to want it, son." "I want it," he said breathlessly. "I want to come. God, I'm close..." While her finger dug inside him, her other hand left his cock. The wet noises that filled the room came from her mouth sucking at him and, he assumed, her fingers engaged between her legs. It was a beautiful feeling. His skin was on fire with pleasure and his hips started to buck, trying to fuck into her throat. He could feel the orgasm approaching like a train rushing from the distance. He began to shake, his mouth hung open, his jaw tightened. And then it was there. A bolt of electricity tore through him. Cum surged through his cock and explosions flooded his mind. He shouted out loud but stopped hearing anything at all. He literally collapsed to the floor. As he lay there he heard her stand up and return to her chair. He heard her redress. He heard her light another cigarette. Still, he did not move. He heard her sit again. "Get dressed and get out of here." She flicked the license down to him and Chris began to grapple with drawing his pants on. She went to the door and cracked it open. "Get out of here you little slut," she said almost passionless. "And don't ever come here again or I'll call the cops. You got that?" END ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author does not condone the described behavior in real life in anyway shape or form. Anyone tempted to act out any of the scenarios in this story; should seriously consider seeking professional help. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Kristen's collection - Directory 71