I-I Blackmailing the Queen I-I
[Chapter 7 -- Sir Richard and Miss Kitty Hit the Road]
Ann owned a nice little red convertible VW Bug, which was, of course,
parked conveniently in the garage below our trysting spot. Our deal had been
that although within the walls of that garage apartment Ann would treat me like
the most intimate lover and sexual master, once outside in the world we would
behave as we always had -- as strangers. I decided to change that, at least
partly.
I was taking the pictures she had promised to pose for:
Click -- Ann standing at the window, demure, pretty, and completely nude. A
profile shot, accentuating her perfect breasts and the downy quality of her
pubic hair.
Click -- Ann reclining on the sofa, pinup style, a smile on her face.
Click -- Ann on her knees on the bed, her index finger perched in her
mouth, a teasing, questioning look on her face.
"Ann," I said, thinking about what shot I wanted to take next. "What would
you say to a little drive around town?"
"I'd prefer to put my clothes back on first," she said, wryly. She was
still kneeling on the bed, waiting for me to give her another pose suggestion.
"Of course, of course. I just feel like getting out of here for a while
once we use up this roll." I looked her straight in the eye, but she seemed to
have no reaction to this obvious breach of contract.
After a moment she sat back on her haunches and said, "We'd have to be a
little careful, or course."
Here it was. "Careful about what?"
"Careful my parents don't see us coming out of the garage. We don't want to
ruin our setup here, do we?"
Again I was mildly shocked to hear how totally Ann had come over to the
side of keeping-this-going. Where I had expected her to insist that none of her
friends see her with me, as we had agreed, she had instead been thinking only
of the danger to our privacy.
I must have communicated my pleasure and surprise with the expression on my
face because she laid back, spread her lovely legs, and said: "Here's a shot
for you. Miss Kitty waiting for her gallant knight to..." she smiled
mischievously, "drop in."
We both laughed at that, and:
Click -- Ann on her back, legs spread wide, a broad smile on her face as
she shows her pussy to the camera.
Click -- Ann fingers herself lightly, face more serious.
Click -- Timer shot, Ann with my dick in her mouth, me standing frame
right, she rolled on her side to take me.
Click -- Timer shot, Ann straddles my cock, facing away from me as I lie on
my back, her face to the camera. Her hand is guiding me into her pussy.
Needless to say, I had no opportunity to set the timer again after that.
She rode my dick like it was a wild horse, turning in mid- fuck to face me,
amazingly without letting my dick slide out of her cunt.
She came in short order, and I soon after that, responding as usual to the
flood of pussy juice that flowed from her and made her cunt even more slippery.
Ah, the wonders of the pill. Back then it was not as easy to get, of course,
but little rich girls like Ann Macafee could always get what they wanted.
We got dressed about fifteen minutes later and stole down to the lower part
of the building, which was the garage proper. Ann peeked out the lintel window
to see if her parents were on the porch, but they were not. She got into the
rabbit on the driver's side and motioned for me to get in the passenger's seat.
"I think I'd rather drive," I said, being a typical 16 year old male.
"Once we get going that's fine, but I think you should sort of slump down
in the passenger's seat until we get out of this neighborhood -- my parents
have friends all around here, and we don't want a nosy neighbor to blow the
whistle, do we?"
"No, Ann. I much prefer the way you blow the whistle..." I smiled.
She giggled and patted the seat next to her. I got in, and we put the
convertible top up. I hunched down as she had suggested, amazed again at how
truly dedicated she had become to keeping our affair alive, and we sped off
into the afternoon.
As it was I was pretty content to let her drive. I was not all that good
with a stick shift yet, but she was quite comfortable with it, so it was easier
to let her continue. Besides, I wanted to look at her while we talked. In the
sun, her hair filled with the wind (we had taken the top back down again), she
was more beautiful than ever. As I had dozens of times over the past weeks, I
thanked whatever stars I had for the incredibly good fortune that had given me
access to her.
"So where to?" she asked, putting her sunglasses on with one hand.
"I don't know," I said, and I really did not. I had expected this trip to
be a problem, an opportunity to assert my authority over her again, yet here
she was perfectly willing, and I had nothing planned. "Why don't we get some
ice cream or something?"
"If you want, but I don't like to eat stuff like that."
"Oh?"
"I don't want to get fat. My mom and my sister are. It must be in my genes
somewhere. Mind if I make an alternate suggestion?"
"Sure. Shoot."
"There are some nice nature trails near Lake Fornier, on the slope of
Freedom Peaks. We could go for a walk there."
I agreed immediately. I had hiked those trails as a little kid, but it had
been years. I must admit, the thought of walking with her and simply holding
hands was strangely exciting to me -- which was odd when you considered all the
fucking and sucking we had done. In some way a walk sounded even more intimate,
though.
We arrived at the trailhead with at least three hours of daylight left,
which was plenty considering the entire loop was less than two miles long. Ann
grabbed a blanket from the trunk of her car -- a rough looking thing that
looked like it was used mostly as a car cover. "In case we want to sit," she
said, then added as she closed the trunk door, "or something."
Or something did not take long. Ann started like a bat our of hell down the
trail, slightly ahead of me, and I got to watch her fine ass move under the
folds of her green corduroy skirt for several strides before she stopped,
turned, and her out her hand for me to take. We walked down the nature trail
hand in hand.
We had walked perhaps a half mile when she led me off the trail. I had
noticed that she was gazing at me with a strange look on her face for most of
the walk, and now she led me up a grassy slope to a stand of trees that crested
the hill we had been circling. The trees were growing in a circle, which is
common for spruces, and there was a flat spot in the middle. She spread the
blanket out there and sat down, folding her legs gracefully beneath her.
I stood for a moment, watching her face, then said "What's the plan, Ann?
You have something in mind, do you?" I was still taking that sort of masterful,
I-am-in-control-here tone with her, but in point of fact I was delighted.
"Oh, of course," she said, smiling prettily, "but first I wanted to explain
something to you, and to ask a favor. Please, sit." She patted the blanket with
her open hand.
Intrigued, I sat. I could not think of a thing to say, so I waited until
she was ready to talk -- she was obviously nervous, but there was also a nice
sort of ease between us that I wanted to bask in. After a while, she began to
speak.
"You think of me the way most people do, as a real bitchy princess, a
pristine queen. I know that. But I have never known any other way to be. All my
life I have been surrounded by `the best things', and expected to live up to
them. To be worthy; to be better than other people, I guess." She looked at me,
as if to gauge my reaction, but I was interested in what she had to say, and
motioned for her to go on. "Well," she continued, "most of my life has been
pretty, um, controlled. I told you about Stuart..."
"Yes. He was your first."
"My only until you, and that was pretty disappointing. I let him fuck me,
if you could call it that, because I was mad at my parents and was trying to
rebel. They were threatening to put me in private school, and I was furious.
Stuart was a kind of revenge, though I couldn't tell them about it, so it
didn't help. When they changed their minds on their own, I felt really stupid.
Stuart kept calling, wanting to `see me again,' which I knew meant he wanted to
put his little prick in me again, but I was bored and disgusted by him, and it
sort of faded away."
"He bragged about it, but we didn't believe him. He made it sound like a
major event, though."
She laughed. "Yes, well, if 20 seconds of frenzy and two quick humps is
major. I don't know if her even broke my cherry."
"He did."
"Oh, of course. You'd know, wouldn't you? Anyway, I found it all pretty
unimpressive and I guess that sort of made me act even more superior. Maybe
that was my way of regaining my self respect. I don't know. Whatever. Anyway,
that was what I thought sex was, to be honest. Nothing to write home about."
"What about Randy?"
"Well, jocks like to talk a lot about all the girls they get, but if Randy
is any indication, it is a bunch of bullshit. When we first parked together, he
was so scared I thought his heart would leap out of his chest. When I told him
that a handjob was as far as I would go, he made some faint protest, but I
could tell he was relieved. After a few dates, we didn't even do that much. He
just liked to suck my breasts a lot. Almost like he didn't get enough as a
baby. He's also the one that got me started on coke, and I guess I got pretty
hooked."
"I'd say so, considering what you were willing to do for it."
"God," she said, and blushed a deep crimson, "don't remind me. That was one
big favor you did me. I'm off that shit forever."
"You'd never taken a boy in your mouth before that?"
"No. I'd seen some X-rated 8 millimeter movies my Dad had hidden in the
garage with Susie Krantz and Mattie Haines once, and I sort of fantasized about
it some times."
"Fantasized about sucking who?"
"Oh, Movie stars, or the guy in the porno movie, I guess. I mean, his cock
was big and looked like a nice one..." she paused for a moment, then looked my
in the eye, "but not as nice as yours."
`Mine' was becoming uncomfortably hard at just her look, but I wanted to
finish the conversation first.
"You see, everything has changed," she said. "I mean, it's weird, but I
seem to have discovered a whole other part of myself that I never knew about
before. And I can't really control it."
"Your sexual side?" All of a sudden I felt like her therapist or something.
"Yes. Sexual. Frankly, having sex with you is what I think about most of
the day. My friends know something is up, but they'd never in a million years
guess..." She was really red now, her face and shoulders and even her hands.
"Every night I dream we're doing it, and every morning I have to..."
"Masturbate."
"Yes. Sometimes I have come already when I wake up. Sometimes during the
day I have to go to the girls room because I have been thinking about you too
much."
"About my cock."
"Sucking it, usually. But I have another fantasy too." She stopped, looked
away, somehow unable to go on.
"Go ahead, tell me," I said, trying to sound gentle. "I mean, we've done a
lot. I guess you can tell me anything."
All at once she said, in a rush, "I'm afraid you'll be disgusted and you
won't want to sleep with me anymore and I think I'll die if you don't I..."
Tears were forming in the corner of her eyes, and I held her in my arms,
for the first time with real tenderness. "It's OK, Ann. I am easily as obsessed
with you as you are with me."
"You are?" she sniffed. "But you've had other girls, haven't you?"
"Yes, you were not the first. But you are undoubtedly the best." She looked
up at me and smiled, still sniffing slightly.. "Now, tell me what this fantasy
is. Don't be afraid. I promise I won't stop fucking you -- in fact, I plan to
do that as soon as we're done talking, right here and now."
She gasped, but her face was delighted. "Here? Oh, god, what if, what
if..."
"It's a chance we'll take. Now, the fantasy." I held her chin in my hands.
"Or I might just make you wait until tomorrow."
It was a lie, but it worked. I had discovered a side to her too; she liked
to be submissive to authority. She bit her lip, obviously screwing up her
courage, and:
"Well, I told you we watched that 8 millimeter movie. In the movie, before
they fucked, even before she took him in her mouth, he did something to her
with his mouth. He like, licked her pussy with his tongue and then sucked her,
sort of."
I smiled. "You want me to do that to you?"
"Well, yes. I mean, if you want to."
I smiled, and let my hand slide up her leg, beneath her skirt, and onto her
panties. "No problem at all," I said, and she sighed and let her head drop onto
my shoulder.
