Making A Devil Out Of Me

Making A Devil Out Of Me Making A Devil Out Of Me

Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica

Details

Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica

Summary

Hot cheerleading-type teenage waitress seduces and black mails a family guy.

Summary

Hot cheerleading-type teenage waitress seduces and black mails a family guy.

Content

Submitted: July 17, 2011

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Content

Submitted: July 17, 2011

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“It’s not that glorious,” I explained to my girlfriend opposite to the restaurant table. “Being an architect makes people think of a master, who creates magazine ready buildings. In reality, only very few select architects get to create a great high rise in the Middle East. To get there, one has to be lucky by birth to have the right family connections.”
 
“Normal architects get to work on a detail of the building, like the stairs or the sewage pipes. Last week, I got the honor of designing the entrance door. The principal architect didn’t like my first design, because it didn’t catch enough attention. So, I had to redo all the tensile strength calculation, go down to city hall to get the change approved. Two days later, he thought the door didn’t blend in enough with the existing façade. That’s another two days of redoing calculations and getting permits. That’s actually been going on for a whole month. And, it’s just a damn door.”
 
“Why don’t you call him on his bullshit,” asked my girlfriend?
 
“He has to give me an eval at the end of the quarter. He must already think poorly of me to not get it right. Rent went up again. I need a good raise. He has got me by the balls. All, I can do is tough it out.”
 
I sadly starred down my water glass. My girlfriend Candice shuffled receipts on the white cloth table. She had a big pile of receipts, spread sheets, and the check book. She was reconciling our expenses and checkbook. We had recently moved in together after we had gotten a foothold in our entry level jobs after an average college that normal people could afford. She wore plain Banana Republic khakis and a white t-shirt. And, we had our weekly routine down including the Sunday visit to our favorite burger place.
 
Near the kitchen entrance stood our waitress. She had trim and fit legs and belly. She wore two pig tails on the side, a tight t-shirt that pressed her boobs into round ball shapes, a skimpy pleated skirt, sneakers, and knee high, ribbed socks. Her cheerleader look was completed by her bouncy steps. She must have been fresh out of high school.
 
“Go ahead, you can catch an eye full. We are a pretty open minded couple, aren’t we? As long as you only eat at home, you can window shop,” said my girlfriend with a smile, a pencil in her mouth and another one stuck behind her ear.
 
I looked again. Something about watching attractive women makes my mind go happy. This invigorating smile comes on my face. My mouth gets wet like in anticipation of a good meal. Somehow just the right kind of curvature of a chest makes my limbs feel strong and invigorated. It’s like an internal fountain of youth turned on.
 
And, I love watching her skirt from behind. It is so short that one can almost see the undercarriage, if it would sway just right. And, with every step forward, the back of her skirt leaps forward. It’s like the skirt back is lapping at her butt. Each time, the fabric melts around her butt to give me the full details on her exercised butt. My eyes squint to search for the faint outline of her G-string. This is happiness.
 
The waitress stops, looks at her shoes, and bends over with her legs straight. Her butt is facing us directly. My heart pounds. My minds slows time down. Her hemline slowly rises bit by bit. I can almost see her butt exposed. Her private regions of her hamstrings begin showing. There! Her pink G-string is exposed. The pink mound of fabric is so small and so curved. I can barely make out the double mound of her labia.
 
“Stevie, that’s too much. Look at me,” my girlfriend demanded with panic on her face. I looked Candice in the face. She had a haircut from the $19.99 barber that evenly stepped the length around her face. Like me, she had put on a bit wait from all the studying at high school and 40+ hour weeks. Because we had become familiar with each other, her only makeup was a cheap red lipstick from CVS.
 
I couldn’t help to steal a quick glance back at the waitress. I pretended to clean my eye and looked sharp left for a split second. I thought that the waitress had paused tying her second shoe and was starring right at me with a devious smile. Though, I am not sure, because Candice hit her flat hand on the table to force my eyes back on her.
 
“You are the most beautiful woman in my book,” I told Candice.
 
She went back to her home accounting work. My thoughts drifted back to work and the endless hours that went into designing that stupid entrance door. My glance drifted through the restaurant. It was one of those dark affairs to make it more elegant. Heavy dark wooden beams gave the room a closed in feeling. The room was surrounded by old, worn leather booths. Somehow the round shapes in the upholstery cushion that the nails driven into it stuck in my memory. The rough feel of dried leather patches always brought back the memories of this place: The food, the feeling of a break, the excitement of dining.
 
Sharp tock-tock-tock noises ripped me out of my day dream. The waitress was behind the counter. On a wooden board, she had laid out a couple apples. In her hand was a giant, shiny, sharp chef’s knife. She insecurely held the knife at the far point of the handle. The knife was raised over her head and chopped down onto an apple half hard. The apple pieces were dancing on the counter kicked to life by the chef’s knife. Tock – down came the knife again aiming at a wiggling apple piece.
 
My heart froze terrified about the poor knife handling skills. My veins were curdling with pain of anticipation that the knife would go flying out of her little fingers, miss the wood board, or worse the handle of a cheap knife may break loose sending the sharp blade flying uncontrollably until it would dive into tender flesh. I could barely breathe and had to look away.
 
Candice, luckily, distracted me, “What do you think of getting a cat or a dog? It would be good practice for starting a family later. A pet needs the same consistency of daily car like a baby. It could be a practice and stepping stone to get it right with the baby. A dog needs a daily walk, food, training, and affection. And, later the dog can help us raise our child.”
 
“That’s a good strategy,” I replied. “It would be good for us to get a little more exercise and go on a daily walk. I kind of like those hunting type dogs like the pointers. They seem so sleek. They are smart. And, we could take the dog on our hikes.”
 
“I am more of a small dog person. They are easier to handle. Though, we can shop around and explore our options.”
 
That’s how we usually plan our life: Objective, short discussion and get it done. I kind of started warming up to the idea of having a dog around us soon. Rough housing a little ball of fur seemed like a fun thing. Watching that little wet, red tongue hang out of its mouth would be so cute, while it would try to keep up with me.
 
Just then, I noticed the teenage cheerleader waitress again. The big boss had come out. He was a big round man with a suit. He wobbled left and right as he walked. He had a little goatee to appear cooler. However, he had the goatee for so long that he had grown careless about styling it. Now, it looked like a derelict of a time, when he looked cool. He reached his arm out straight to stop the waitress.
 
“You can’t leave middle in your shift. Plates and customers are waiting.”
 
The waitress stepped forward and smashed her foot so hard on the ground that a deep thud echoed back from the restaurant walls. Her face distorted into a flash of anger. The sheer ugliness of it was terrifying.
 
“You slave driver have to give workers a five minute break every hour. I needed a smoke,” yelled the waitress for everyone to hear.
 
The owners face became expressionless, like he didn’t know what to do. Then, he had this little smile that turned into a warm giggle. It was like he had given up on his cold putting down the rules attitude. I seemed that the waitress had tickled a warm place inside of him. He seemed to actually enjoy being put in the place. He seemed to have this secret sexual desire for the hot waitress that he knew would never go anywhere, yet he loved just about any chance to experience her.
 
The waitress steamed away from the owner. She got the waiting plates from the metal kitchen counter. Life was back to normal in the restaurant. We got our burgers. They were delicious as always. I could have given each piece of the plate a name, because I was so familiar with them. There was exactly one crunch, sour pickle spear. The tomatoes had a combination of redness, mushiness, and flavor that was so well memorized that I could pick out these restaurants tomatoes in a blind tasting competition. Food always brings such good feelings into us. And, when we know the food, we can look forward to those feelings. My girlfriend was equally quiet and focused on her burger – quiet companionship.
 
When our plates were empty, we leaned back in our booth, gazed at each other, and let the food coma arrive. The waitress came. She swung right next to me on the booth bench. Because there was only a small space between the edge of the bench and me, she pressed her side against me. I could feel her hips, thighs, and torso. The body warmth immediately radiated onto my skin. The sensation of her smaller and compact body immediately triggered a primal feeling in me. Women still grow after they are eighteen. Feeling her smaller, younger body was so sexy compared to the older, more grown body of my girlfriend.
 
“Move over. I want to get to know my loyal customers. My name is Cat. Who are you?”
 
I slid deeper into the booth. Cat’s body followed mine right away. She kept her side fully touching mine. Only now, she laid down her right hand to rest on my thigh – very high on my thigh. Her hand was right beneath the hip crease. My heart pounded with embarrassment. My head blushed red. My mouth started quivering, and I had to keep it shut. Her finger tips were almost touching my junk. Her hand rested over the car keys in my pocket. Her touch was so intimate. And, it was completely hidden under the long white table cloth.
 
Candice was eager to be metropolitan and impress that she could talk with wait staff: “Hi, I am Candice. This is Stevie. We really love coming here. And, we appreciate your service.”
 
“That’s wonderful. Actually, I am being bad. I have a very selfish reason for visiting. Your handbag looks so wonderful. Could I have a look at it?”
 
Candice was very proud to show off her purse. She bought pretty bland clothing usually. So, it was rare to get female appreciation. Cat lifted the brown leather purse high into the air. She turned it all over and pointed at the gold buckle. “I love that gold buckle. It’s so Princess Diane.” She snapped the gold buckle open. Candice lips pulled down. Yet, she didn’t say anything. Cat fingered through the inside of the purse. “I like the zipper for the coins. Oh, and there is hook for the keys. Very nifty!” Candice stammered a thank you.
 
Cat lifted a hygiene pad out of the bag, waved it in the air, and smirked at Candice before putting it back a second later. Candice shifted in her seat and raised her hand like she wanted to say something. Cat pulled out a blue condom and cut off Candice: “Oh, you guys still use condoms. I would have thought that you are on the pill by now. You guys have been coming here together for so long.”
 
“Hm, the pill has side effects.”
 
“But, it feels so much better naked,” gushed Cat and leaned forward like she was sharing a conspiracy.
 
“It feels good enough with a rubber,” replied Candice breathless. “What made you become a waitress,” asked Candice to change the subject.
 
Cat completely snapped out of the intensity of discussion. She leaned back and handed the purse back. “I never finished high school. I am pretty bad.”
 
“No, you aren’t. You got a pretty good job here. The tips must add up nicely,” said Candice trying to say the right thing.
 
“I used to steal cars after school. With my friends, we’d just pop a window and drive off.”
 
“But, the cops must have gotten you after a while,” I asked with intense curiosity at a different kind of life that was full of thrill.
 
“Yeah, when the cops come, you just ditch the car and run. Sometimes you get away. Sometimes you get caught. The first time is the hardest, because you don’t know what to expect. After a few times, the cops know you. They let you off easier as you become a regular. The judge can’t do much, because we were underage. Now, that I am over eighteen, I can’t get caught anymore or it’s real prison time.”
 
“Wow,” said Candice and I in unison.
 
“It was nice meeting you folks. I have to get back.”
 
“So, your name was Cat,” asked Candice. “Is that Cat as in Kathryn or Katarina.”
 
Cat was already moving around. She had this bouncy step like her sneakers had spring coils inside them. It makes her butt bounce. She turned around, so that her pig tails were flying through the air. “No, that’s cat as in pussy.”
 
Candice calmed down after the whirlwind visit. I was still enjoying the imprint of her hand on my thigh. Now, that the unpredictable girl was gone, I could fully enjoy the feeling. Candice calmed herself down by organizing the receipts and paper back into the shoe box. I still had extra blood in my penis. My penis wasn’t hard by any means. It was flaccid, yet engorged into a big lump that felt nice in the hand. It reminded me to go to the bathroom.
 
“Honey, I will be right back.”
 
The guy’s bathroom was one of those all-in-one deals of small restaurants. It was large enough for wheel chair people. It had the urinal right next to the toilet for quick pit stops. The light was stark bright compared to the dim restaurant. A few hand papers had fallen on the floor. The toilet seat had a bit of pee crust. The urinal had the reflective shimmer of pee on the floor beneath it. The hygiene covers for the toilet seat were gone, like always. I checked the toilet paper out of habit, because it is so embarrassing to take a dump and encounter a brown skinny roll with the last white tissue pulled off. Though, I had to only go for number one this time.
 
While I had taken a minute with the door in my hand to survey the bathroom before committing to it, Cat had slipped in. She had taken the door handle out of my hand and closed the door. She swiftly took up the space in front of the mirror to touch up her lip stick.
 
“Cat, this is the guy’s bathroom.”
“Don’t be so uptight Stevie. The women’s bathroom is occupied and I have only a moment to touch up my make-up. Go ahead. I won’t look.”
 
Cat seemed really focused on her make-up. So, I kind of chanced it by silently standing next to her at the urinal. I only slipped open the zipper instead of opening the pant. I fingered for my penis in the depth of my pants and pulled it out. While I starred at the urinal and where the stream hit a painted-on fly to stay in my own private space, I stole a few glances on the floor to see her sneakers and calves. I have a secret foot fetish thing. Cat’s rapid noises suggested that I was getting away with my glances, because she was rushing to get her make-up done before the boss noticed.
 
Then, there was a pause in her movements. I got the sickening feeling of being starred up. I didn’t dare looking, because looking at someone else, let alone a hot cheerleader waitress, while holding a peeing cock in your hand, was so uncomfortable. Yet, the pregnant silence worried me more. And, I looked. To my shock, Cat’s eyes were full on staring over her side and onto my wiener. Her face was flushed with curiosity and excitement. She seemed to have fun at being daring. I was midstream. I could not stop. And, putting a peeing penis back in my pants would be pretty stupid. I was helplessly caught.
 
“Oh, that’s what your penis looks like. It’s no big deal,” and Cat laughed out loud. “You men look so manly, when you hold your junk. Here, watch this.”
 
Cat pulled down her t-shirt and bra to expose her juicy, ball like, big breast. They were so perky, in shape, and in complete defiance of gravity. I gazed at her pink areola. I took in the details of her soft round nipples. My heart sunk down in shock. My mind was feverishly trying to capture every moment of this lucky event. My conscience worried about my girlfriend. I was only looking.
 
“Haha, it’s not like I haven’t seen a cock before. It’s not like you haven’t seen boobs before. Although, this set is a designer set. It cost ten thousand dollars. You gotta feel ‘em. Don’t be shy.”
 
My mind was playing catch up. Earlier this week, I had been in the dullest mind space of pushing through the day. All I had told me was ‘showing up is 90% of success.’ And, once I was at work, I kind of had to move the project forward. And, now I was in this high octane situation that required quick response and offered unreal benefits.
 
Her hand had already grabbed mine and placed it on her boob. The skin felt so tender, delicate, and young. I knew that what I was doing was wrong. Though, I tried to rationalize, that nowadays everyone has a boob job. And, comparing them has become a normal thing. I knew, it was wrong, because Candice didn’t have one.
 
I was still holding my penis with one hand. The other hand was on Cat’s boob. It just felt wrong to be that intimate. My mind felt like a panther galloping over the prairie with an intense drive to catch the jackpot o the month. My conscience felt like a donkey that didn’t want to move with carrots or sticks. Somewhere, I was stuck between the two. And, a boner grew silently in my hand. Even without her exposed boobs, just her juicy body would have raised a boner.
 
“You touched mine. Now, I get to touch yours.”
 
Her hands reached for my erect penis. Ever since elementary school, I had the fasted raising penis. I had won every bathroom contest in high school about who can get fully erect the fastest. It was something like 30 seconds from limp to rock hard. Her hands did a trick on my mind. My mind was fully sexualized and only thinking about getting more sexual touches. Her small fingers explored my penis. Her investigative fondling was more arousing than outright rubbing. It was so ticklish and sensitive.
 
“Okay, come on now,” slipped out of my mouth to make her stop.
 
“Oh, wow, you are really encouraging.”
 
“No, I don’t mean it like that, more like stop.”
 
Her lips were already on my penis. Those wet and full lips were touching around my penis opening. They glided over my penis head and down the shaft. Her hot, wet mouth felt so delicious. However, the intense sensual reaction inside of my body was even stronger. I sucked in the air deeply. My mind went completely blank, then black, and finally filled with warm colors and shapes. My conscience was very clear that I had to stop her forcefully, because I was cheating on my girlfriend. However, the lusty panther in me wanted one more stroke. What’s the difference between one more stroke and ahh… it felt so good. It felt so happy. Would it be worth it to break up with Candice for this little bit of heaven?
 
Cat slurped on my penis, when she pulled back. Her eyes looked up big at me and deeply into mine. Her lips were pulled around my cock. Her mouth looked round and pulled forward as if she was wearing one of those gas masks that dangle a long snout down the chest. Her boobs were still dangling outside. The whole mental turn on of cheerleader and that cock sucking face had me on explosive sexual edge. Any second, I could blow a load in her. I hate to be that fast. That’s why I usually take things really slow with Candice. Though, I never get to experience this raw high throttle passion.
 
The door handle clicked down. I panicked. Cat had not locked the bathroom. After all, she had only planned on putting on makeup Candice yell-mumbled with my cock deep in her mouth. She had not need for properness. “Maintenance – bathroom is closed.” The slightly ajar door withdrew again.
 
The distraction had given me enough pause to pull away, rip my penis out of her surprised mouth, pack the penis away, and rush out of the bathroom. I would still feel her mouth on my penis for hours later. The longing for sexual release went only away, when later that day at home, I would wipe one out, while intensely fantasizing about Cat. I had found some of her fresh lipstick on my dick.
 
Later, when it was time to pay the check, I feared the worst: “Hey, I sucked your boyfriend. How do you put up with his boring, average dick?” Though, she was her usual bubbly self, when she threw the plastic plate with the bill on the table. She had left a note on the bill: “It was a pleasure to serve you.” I silently thought, “what an evil double speak.” Candice said out loud, “oh, just a nice waitress.”
 
In the car, Candice was sitting next to me. We had our rule out of habit that the driver seat was mine. The passenger seat and all surrounding places to stash things was hers. So, I always carried around a collection of home burned CDs, notes, a plush toy, sun screen, and scarf.
 
“We are a pretty progressive couple, aren’t we?” asked Candice. Her tone of voice betrayed her intention that she wanted confirmation.
 
“Of course, we are, honey.”
 
“Like last Christmas, we had oral sex. That was pretty kinky.” I remembered that attempt. Candice was under a big pile of blankets, because she was too embarrassed to be seen giving a blow job. I was straining to moan, because she only nibbled on the tip of my penis head. And, she had this serious voice that reminded me of a bank teller being bored counting money. After a couple minutes of it, I told her, how crazy she drove me and I needed to finish in her pussy. She was so relieved about that.
 
“Yep, we are a kinky couple.”
 
“But, we are not freakishly like a weird foot fetish.” My heart sunk, because if I could just feel her feet rubbing on my cock for once, that would be so wonderful.
 
“Ugh, that is so disgusting. What is wrong with those people,” I concluded.
 
Candice looked ahead. I had passed her test. I was glad to mentally escape the car by focusing on the traffic on the outside.
 
 
The story could end here. It’s a neat story about how I got lucky with a teenage cheerleader waitress in a restroom. However, a few days later, I was walking down a busy commercial street to run errands. “Stevie,” a familiar voice called.
 
I couldn’t quite place the voice. I couldn’t quite recognize the face. After the cheap ‘how are you’ exchange, it dawned on me. It was that waitress. Only her whole persona had changed. Her tone was deeper. She looked like a boring tailor’s wife with her hair blond hair straight down and the tiny spectacles on her nose.
 
“I have a secret to tell you. And, please don’t share it with anybody. I feel that I owe you as much.”
 
We were both standing in a little cocoon with earnest faces pedestrians swooshing past us. I felt awkward. I wanted to get away. At the same time, I didn’t want to be rude and lose favor with her. After all, I’d see her again every Sunday until she’d quite after a few months like all the other waitresses. So, I was going to make polite conversation. After a few sentences, I’d cut her off for being late to go somewhere.
 
“I have a mood disorder. It’s actually pretty severe. The doctors give me a heavy cocktail of uppers. And, when I take those, everything just happens. I think of it and next I do it. It’s like I don’t have a filter at all. My friends seem to love me for all the spontaneous fun that I bring to their lives. However, I also end up doing really stupid things. I want you to know that.”
 
“Oh, wow, I don’t quite know what to say. I am so sorry to hear that. Are you taking them right now?”
 
“I haven’t been taking them all week. I get so depressed without them. It’s like I can barely lift my limbs. And, all the things that I did, when I was high, come to my mind. It makes me feel so sorry.”
 
She was ghostly pale. Her slender, sexy limbs seemed frail, weak today. Her shoulders were shifting in a circle, as she was trying to maintain her balance. She seemed weak in her stance. Without makeup, she seemed like any other girl. I felt very touched by the challenges that she must face. I wanted to reach out and help her.
 
“Are you feeling alright? You look a little pale.”
 
“I feel bad. I feel really bad.” Her voice was very heavy. She couldn’t focus her gaze on me. I feared the worst.
 
“Do you need me to call an ambulance?”
 
“No, no, ambulance. I can’t pay for it. I just need sugar. That’ll stabilize whatever is left in my blood of the meds.”
 
I took her arm over my shoulder. She slumped onto me letting go of her last effort to remain standing. I had to lift her up with my hand around her back. Her feet did a lazy walk along her body that I carried. All the sexuality that I had felt then in her body contact wasn’t there. She was a limp sack that needed to be carried through the door of the little café behind us.
 
She was lying face down on the coffee table, while I got her orange juice and an extra sweet puffy pastry item with a big peach half in it. I had to life the orange juice to her lips. Gently, like a baby, I cooed her to open her lips. Some of the juice went in and some of it went down her cheek. I used a gray, recycled napkin to wipe down her chin. I broke the pastry item into small pieces and feed her piece by piece, as she became more responsive.
 
It was kind of cute to watch her chew on the pastry piece. Her mouth was half open. She would struggle with her drool. Then, she sighed deeply. She would open her mouth a little more to indicate that she wanted to be feed again. I’d carefully place a torn pastry piece on her lips. Her lips would gently glide down my fingers to pull the piece with every last crumb of my fingers.
 
I cherished the opportunity to help someone. It made me feel need. Finally, I had a purpose in life that did something good, rather than re-arranging an entrance door for a month. In a way, my soul had really needed this – to be good.
 
After half hour, she was more animated. I’d call her state lucid, yet very weak. She started making rational decisions. She called herself to leave a voice mail to remind her to take the meds again.
 
“Stevie, I am sorry for sucking your cock in the restroom right near your girlfriend. I almost tried to kill myself thinking about how bad I was. Did you at least enjoy it? That way, I am not all bad and evil.”
 
“Cat, we can’t do this again. However, it felt really good. It was like a Hollywood dream come true.”
 
“That’s good.
 
I relished the tender silence on my end. Her thoughts were racing to process the situation.
 
“Oh, gosh, I had a total drug crash. The doctor said that it would be dangerous to get off the meds cold turkey. I need to get home. I need to get back on my meds. I have a waitress shift tomorrow. Oh, my god, I can’t be in this state.”
 
Cat got up, grabbed her belongings and ran out of the café. I followed her closely. In her state, she might run into traffic. Or, people changing meds are at the risk for suicide. I have a serious liability problem for not letting her leave alone, even if it means calling the cops to take her into protective custody.
 
“Cat, hold on. You are very impulsive. It’s dangerous.”
 
Cat had already stopped a cabbie by stepping right into traffic. The cabbie came to a screeching halt. All I could do was to throw my business card into the cab before the door closed on me. I yelled through the window glass: “Call me, if you need anything.” While the cab disappeared, I added, “any time, even at night.”
 
At home, when I told Candice about the chance encounter, my adrenaline was pumping again. I got that shaky feeling in my guts that made me stop talking.
 
“What is it about that waitress that turns you on so much? You want to fuck her, don’t you? What does she have that I don’t?”
 
“No, honey, I only care about you. You are my everything.”
 
“I see how you look at her. I hear how excited your voice is talking about her.”
 
“Baby, my voice is excited, because the situation of mental disease and a drug crash is so exciting. I would never have an interest at her. She is a walking catastrophe of bad decisions. You are so much more mature and make responsible decisions. You know about getting the best CD rate, planning our weekly grocery shopping. Those things are important for a long term relationship.”
 
“Ha, you think of me as your accountant! You are not getting any more sex for the rest of the week.”
 
We usually only had sex on Saturday, because our week is so busy. Though, it would be a bummer to miss out on that. It was best to leave it with that conclusion. Candice would only work herself into an even more disagreeable mood.
 
 
The next day in the office was the usual doldrums. I’d re-ran calculations, wait in a stupor for the computer to finish, hit enter for the next step, wait in a deeper stupor. In between, I’d check my e-mail. The e-mail check was the only way to escape the boring job for a few seconds. Even spam was a welcome diversion at work. When an e-mail from Cat arrived, I sat up straight in my chair. This was a big catch. I’d be curious to hear, how she was doing.
 
“Hey Stevie, thank you for being there for me yesterday. I got your e-mail off your business card. Attached is a little thank you.”
 
Attached was a slideshow presentation. I stupidly clicked on it. It was a photo of Cat in her bathroom. There were dirty finger prints on the mirror. The flash was caught in the mirror as well. A million plastic bathroom bottles filled her sink top and the floor. The shower curtain behind her was half torn and unrepaired. Her cheery face smiled at him.
 
I looked over my shoulder to see, if anyone was close. I have a double predicament at work. My office software got corrupted during the last upgrade. When the slide show program goes full screen, it not only disables the operating system buttons and the screen saver, it disables everything. The only way to get out of it is to click through the whole darn slide. The other problem is related to my office nick name ‘printern.’ Since being an intern, I sit right next to the printer. The office space is sparse and all the junior associates sit in the hallway. Personal photos at work are a big no-no at this serious architecture firm.
 
So, I had to click to the next photo. Cat was lying with her back on the bathroom commode. Her arm must have reached far out to take the photo from the side. Her silhouette was clear. Her boobs were a towering mountain. Her belly was so fit that it caved lower than the rib cage. Her eyes looked dreamy. Her makeup was perfect to make her look perky and sultry: Those big dark eye liners and the shiny moistened lips.
 
The third photo showed her with a towel in a turban over her head. Her top had come off to show a black lace bra. She was pretending to be a show girl that stepped out of the shower. Her boobs were so round and full that anyone passing his desk would have that she was a stripper, not a real word acquaintance.
 
I clicked faster. Yet, my mind was lightning fast to memorize the photos. The fourth photo showed her shaving her legs. The razor blade made a straight line into the white foam on her silky legs. Her pants had come off. She was wearing that tight pink G-string. I had an involuntary boner by now.
 
I knew the final photo would be naked. It was not only naked. She had a red vibrator inside of herself. Her butt was on the edge of the sink. Her back leaned against the mirror. An aura of fog was around her body. Apparently, she had worked herself up pretty hot. Her knees were bent. And, her feet were with yoga like bendiness right next to her butt. Written across the photo was ‘Love, Cat. Call me right now. All I need is the aphrodisiac of your voice.’
 
“End of slideshow” appeared on the screen. I closed the slideshow and deleted the e-mail instantly. I cleared my recycle bin. I was sitting so close to the desk that my boner was pressing against the table edge. It wanted me to rub the penis against the table. However, I had to pull myself together. I was at work. And, I didn’t suck up to that asshole principal architect to get fired before my raise.
 
Of course, I did not call her. At the end of the day, I walked out of the lobby. I waved the security officer in the parking lot good bye. I liked the touch of being friendly to the small people and not take them for granted. I opened my car, sat down like usual, closed the door. The red door sign on the dash board remained lit. I opened the door, closed it. The red light still indicated that the door wasn’t closed. I carefully pulled the seat belt away from the door and slammed the door really hard. Still the light was on. I was confused.
 
“You do live in a bubble of everyday the same. You don’t even see the world around you anymore.”
 
Cat was sitting in the passenger seat. I had totally not noticed her there. I often get lost in my thoughts and miss things around me.
 
“How did you get in here?”
 
“Remember, I’m a car thief.”
 
“You gotta leave.”
 
“Don’t worry, I only want to show you one thing.”
 
“Like you have anything left to show after those photos! My company reads all my e-mail. I could get in trouble for that.”
 
“Oh, that’s good to know how I can get you in trouble. Though, I only want to show you one thing.”
 
“Okay, let’s get it over already, if that’s what gets you to leave.”
 
Cat pulled out her phone. She pressed a few buttons. Static sounded. Then, I heard my own voice talking about our restroom BJ. “Stevie, I forgot to hang up after I had left my voice mail in the café. It’s all recorded and pretty juicy. I think that I get a free wish for deleting it. Or, I could send it to your girlie-girl at home.” Cat snickered.
 
I was willing to restrain myself long enough to at least hear the wish. Maybe, it was something easy.
 
“I got so horny listening to your voice talking about my lips around your dick. When I took those photos, I worked myself up even more. Now, I am crazy to actually feel that dick of yours inside of me. You said that it was your hot dream come true. Let’s just have one crazy fuck on the side. And, nobody has to know about it.”
 
“That’s it.”
 
She was half my weight. I was sick and tired of her games. I reached for the phone in her hand. She pulled it away from me. I turned over in my driver seat to get on top of her. She pulled her knees up to her chest. She was wearing cowboy boots with pointy toe boxes. Her knees pushed against my chest to push me away. The best thing that I could hold onto was her top. The top shredded with a loud sound as I yanked it hard. I didn’t pay attention to her exposed bra. I adjusted my hand to hold onto her upper arm.
 
My manly hands got a good grip on her upper arm. When she felt herself apprehended, she stuck out her chest in a way that said ‘take me.’ Something instinctively inside of me reacted to that by just shaking her. There was no point in shaking her to get the phone. It was simply her pose unleashed an instinctive trigger. It seemed to do the same for her. Her body went languid. Her head slapped back and force. On a primal sense, she seemed to like it. I had the urge to kiss her. I realized that impulse as nonsense. I reached for the phone, got the memory card, and crushed it.
 
We were silently sitting in the car together. I was trying to cool down the anger inside of me. My mind was trying to make sense of those physically violent impulses that I had. I had never experienced those before. Cat was sitting silently with her torn top. She tried to reconcile her lost black mail item. A blue bruise started forming on her upper arm, where my hand had laid.
 
“That’s assault. You assaulted me. Look at my tits hanging out. That arm is going to be black and yellow by tomorrow. I could call that parking lot security officer and have you arrested. The evidence is pretty clear.”
 
I grumpily said, “Okay, I’ll drive you home.”
 
While we were driving her home, I gave her a few sideways glances to seize her up. She looked like a fluffy dog that had a bath. She seemed skinny, small. Her finger tips were tenderly tracing around the dashboard.
 
“I don’t know what we had back there. However, you shoving me around, turned me on in a very strange way. It doesn’t make sense. However, I saw it in your eyes as well. You didn’t care about the phone anymore. You just wanted to throw me around like a rag doll. In your eyes, I could see something very ancient awakening. It was a very touching moment. It’s weird. I’m not a girl that asks for abuse.”
 
I didn’t say anything. I turned on the indicator for the next turn.
 
Cat rubbed herself in the seat and looked around very proud. “So, this is what it feels like to be your girlfriend.”
 
“Well, don’t get used to it. Your stop is five minutes ahead.”
 
I stopped the car. I started unbuttoning my shirt. “Here, you can have this shirt to cover up, when you go in.”
 
“Oh, you are so coming with me. I didn’t want to tell you earlier to make it easier for you to come here. Though, I have a copy of the recording upstairs.”
 
“You are just saying that to get me in. It took you all this time to think it up.”
 
“Your choice how you want to find out, if I spoke the truth or not.”
 
In the lobby of her building was an old male receptionist. His chin was on his fists. He was dozing. Cat sheepishly told him that I was her new boyfriend, and he should let me in any time. He just nodded disinterested. There was a hint of her bringing a lot of guys up there in his nod.
 
Her apartment was a studio. It had a pullout couch with messy bed sheets. Clothing was lying all over the floor. It was hard to tell, which was fresh or dirty. I sat down on the edge of her pullout couch. I could immediately smell her scent coming from the bed sheets.
 
Cat peeled the torn top of her body and inspected her bruise. I tried to project anger to deny the fact that a hot girl in a bra was standing in front of me. She kicked her cowboy boots off. I immediately smelled her sweaty feet. It turned me on like it always does without fail. She rolled the boot socks down her calves. The feet that popped out had shiny red nail gloss. Her feet had the right nobby curves in all the right places. In the depth of me something registered that I actually liked hanging out in those sweaty messy places with girls. It’s so intimate.
 
She wiggled her jeans over her hips and down her legs. “I am just getting into something comfortable.” She bounced around the room adjusting little things in her underwear. I had been patiently sitting through the whole thing and barked at her: “Stop the antics. Give me the copy.”
 
“Oh, I’m not turning you on? I thought after seeing me for a while half naked, you couldn’t resist.”
 
“I have a girlfriend. That’s like a long term investment. I have put so much effort into that relationship that I am not going to risk it by screwing around.”
 
“I imagined it so hot to seduce a random guy.”
 
Cat started crying. It wasn’t the silent sobbing kind. She was wailing like a siren. The guttural screams resonated so much inside of me that I felt like my veins were being shredded to pieces. “I’m going to kill myself.” I told her to hush. The neighbors would call 911. She wailed only louder and stomped. I put my arms around her and said, “hush, hush, hush, baby.” Her body wrapped itself around mine with the fervor of a death grip. There was a deep, unguarded emotional feel to her holding onto me.
 
I didn’t move afraid to trigger her again. She was happily snuggling into my body. She knew that was as much as she could get. My back started hurting. I leaned back on the pull out couch. Her body rested on top of mine. Her face was so close to mine that the vision was slightly blurry. It puts one into such a different, tender state to be at such intimate distance.
 
“You really need to care for somebody. Psychologically, you are incomplete like a fish out of water, when you don’t have someone to take care of. You need to be needed. That’s what your girlfriend isn’t giving you. You need that emotional closeness of being in somebody’s broken space.”
 
Her words touched my inside with her tenderness. Out of some illogical reaction, I started kissing her on the neck. I placed lots of tender full lipped kisses on her neck. It made no sense. She started kissing me back on my neck. My memory took me back to my first girlfriend and how we were fooling around in her room. The same feelings like in that place came back to me. Cat’s boobs and belly were pressed against me. Her body raked and pushed against mine.
 
I long ago had gotten one of my instant reactions. Cat tilted her pelvis in G-strings against my pant covered erection. It was like reality had shattered. All the rules that held my universe sane and safe were thrown out. What was right in front of me was so tasty and seductive. I freed one boob out the bra and placed it in my mouth. Cat was flush with heat from the wet slobber on her sensitive nipple. She pulled the shirt off my body. I let her pull it.
 
“I have been so ready for you all this time. I am so slick wet.”
 
“Let me put on a condom.”
 
“I’m allergic to latex.”
 
“Do you have any condoms?”
 
“No. It’s okay. I take the pill and am clean. I got a gyno last week.”
 
Our bodies were stark naked. The incinerating feeling of naked skin touching each other had set me on fire to let out any reason. We were past the point of no return. She put her vagina over my penis. My penis felt her wet pussy like the slickest surface in the world.
 
“Are you sure that it’s okay without a condom?”
 
“Yes.” It was too late anyway.
 
Feeling her wet pussy for the first time was so delicious. All my life, I had only felt rubber or more accurately nothing. It felt so connected to feel her torrent on the inside. And, Cat kept moaning in my ear over and over “I can feel you.” Fucking a hot teenage cheerleader waitress, feeling this hot horny body devouring me, all that was worth the possible price of dying, dying from HIV. To experience this precious gift was worth giving up decades of a long life without it. I felt so close to Cat. I felt so surrendered to her. I felt so broken out of my rules and to experience passion, real life.
 
My groin was soaked in Cat’s wet juices. I erupted an orgasm inside of her. The mental visual of shooting my load directly inside of the depth of her belly aroused me even more. There was the moment of orgasm, when I lose all control. I can’t hold back the semen. I can’t hold back my private thoughts. I can hold up my physical shield. I just surrendered to Cat. Orgasms override my ability to self-control in my body. My body draped over hers.
 
“Stay inside me,” whispered Cat into my ear.
 
We drifted into a post-coital snooze. My penis slowly turned flaccid in her cave. It became this small, flaccid thing that could barely plug her and threatened to fall out. About the time that Cat got up to wipe her pussy, where my cum oozed out, and she was licking her hand like delicious ice cream, around that time, the horniness left me with broken guilt behind. I was torn with guilt.
 
“Where is that recording?”
 
“It’s alright. You don’t have to be nice. I knew that the moment you stopped thinking with your pistol, you’d turn back into a jerk. There is no copy. It was just a ruse to get you in here. You can leave now, before you smash anything.”
 
And, that I did. I left.
 
Candice didn’t notice my mood at all. She was too busy clipping coupons out of the paper. Out of nowhere, she quipped, “I think you take me for granted. You don’t even notice me. I was so upset today, because someone stole a parking spot at the grocery store right in front of me. And, you don’t even notice. I was watching Dr. Phil on afternoon TV today. He talked about men needing to work on their listening skills. And, I totally thought about you. And, I made this list of things.” I spare you the long talk of me being delegated to say ‘you are so right’, ‘that is great’, and ‘that must be so hard for you.’
 
 
Dear reader, as you can expect by now, the tale only got more afflicted. A few days later, I came home early. I found Cat posing naked on our central kitchen counter, an imported piece from Italy. She reclined on her elbows. One knee was bent. Her toes were pointed. The afternoon light just hit her right through the window. Her boobs were juicy, awesome, and round. It was surreal, the dream of every bachelor.
 
“Cat, it was a one-time thing. You have to get out before Candice comes home,” I spoke with a sad, bored tone.
 
“Don’t you wanna play?” Cat lifted a pair of metal handcuffs out of her purse. She dangled them from one finger, “You have been a bad boy. I have to arrest you,” she said with a stern stripper voice.
 
“No, I don’t want to play.” I drew out every syllable to send a clear message.
 
“Okay, I’ll play by myself,” said Cat sheepishly. She strutted butt naked into the living room. I followed her.
 
“Where are your clothes?”
 
Cat stopped in front of the exposed water pipe in the living room. She faced me. I drew a face to indicate that I was waiting for a response. She was silent. She reached her hands behind her back. I heard the ratchet of the cuffs clicking in place. I heard the second ratchet clicking in place. What a brat she was. How would I get her to stop stalling for time? Then, it hit me. She had handcuffed herself to the water pipe. It was a thick five inch water pipe, the pride of my exposed rustic living room.
 
Cat opened, “the way I see it, you have two options. You can play find-the-key, which is very well hidden in your apartment. Or, you can fuck the living daylight out of me. And, when I am 110% pleased, I’ll tell you were the damn key is. Your little girlie girl is coming home in twenty minutes or so. I’ll just hang out here, while you make up your mind.”
 
I looked over her body. Every bit of it was taut. Her pussy was clean shaven with a little landing strip. The labia hang out a little bit like a tongue teasingly poised between the lips. Out of her purse, I could see a toy whip hanging out. It was a leather whip that had so many strands that it didn’t seriously hurt. It was only for the erotic mind game of making believe of whipping somebody.
 
I turned over her purse. The rest of her knickknacks spilled out. None of them was a key. I slipped my hand under the couch upholstery. I opened the fridge. I looked under every coffee cup. Out of an insane impulse, I checked the toilet bowl.
 
Standing in front of Cat: “Give me a tip at least.”
 
Cat didn’t speak. She tried to reach my crotch with her mouth. She was bending and pulling on her hand cuffs with the single mindedness of a zombie trying to eat brain. Seeing her frustration from being unable to reach me, a smile of superiority slipped out from me. Changing her plan, she tried to reach me with her foot. She tenaciously balanced hopping on one foot, while the other struggled to reach my crotch. Her calves swelled up from her pointed toes. And, she managed to press the balls of her feet against my crotch.
 
Wow, that was the first time that my foot fetish received some kind of expression. She caught my face. “Wow, you are into feet. I’ll rub you off with my feet. You know you want it.” I did with guilt. I wanted to get a glimpse just for a little touch. I opened my pants. I couldn’t believe. She had no judgment or hesitation about rubbing her feet on my flaccid penis. She tried to grab my penis with her curled toes. She tried to perch my penis between her big toes and the next like a cigarette.
 
“Come on, kiss them.”
 
“Just once, you gotta go right after that.”
 
I kissed her feet. She told me to lick them. It was like Christmas. It was surreal. I hadn’t imagined that a regular person would let me enjoy this. Everyone that I knew always frowned about any kind of fetishes. She shoved her little foot into my face. I was amazed that my lips stretched all the way around it. It was such a turn on.
 
“Come here. Put your butt against the pipe. I can fuck you and you can lick my feet at the same time.”
 
In a cow girl variation, she bumped up and down my shaft using the water pipe to pull herself up. Her legs were stretched over my torso. I worshipped her feet. I took in the scent and every little curve and cranny. Worked up and out of control, I moved to fuck her. There was no way of undoing this situation. There was only pushing on and rushing through before Candice would come home. We stood up and I fucked Cat standing. Our mouths devoured each other. We were lost in passion.
 
Keys clicked in the door. The door scratched over the floor. Candice started yelling in a high pitched tone. She hit her purse on me. I was as busted as could be. But, Cat’s pussy felt too good. I was bewitched. I kept fucking on. I rationalized that I was caught already. Another thrust wouldn’t make it worth – just one. Yet, it would feel so good. Cat exploded like a randy dog. The situation charged her up even more.
 
When I turned on the stereo with the remote, I must have crossed a line. It’s a little hard to backwards rationalize what happened. However, I turned on the stereo to blast the one heavy metal CD that I loved so dearly. Yet, Candice never let me listen to it in her presence. The drumming and singer blasting, “I come alive in a place where I once died” drowned out Candice quips behind my naked shoulders. That’s why I only noticed that she left, when Cat yelled into my eye.
 
“You did it, boss. She’s gone. I’ll let you fuck me in my ass, as a treat.”
 
Without a second thought, I pushed my bare penis into her dark pooper hole.
 
 
-------------
This story is a re-write of ‘Making A Devil Out of Me’ by en_extase. When I read his story, I didn’t like it. It was too plain, straightforward for my test. The main actor was a retarded pushover. However, the theme of his story stayed with me. One of my writing teachers said, all we can expect of a story is to get a lasting image from it. So, his story worked. It didn’t give me peace, until I wrote my own version. There we are.
 


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