Tales of Debauchery and Lust

Poker Night

Thursday nights had become a routine after my mom married Mr. Collins. She worked nights, leaving before dinnertime, and not getting home until the sun was coming up. My step-dad would invite his buddies over for a game of poker, order pizzas for dinner, and I would spend the evening up in my room, reading or working on homework. It was an easy, quiet night that I could count on.

My boyfriend constantly asked if he could sneak in while the men downstairs were engrossed in their game. I usually said no, but sometimes, when I didn't have much homework to distract me, I'd let him in. He'd use his fingers on me, but eventually, I'd get bored with it and give him a blow job just so he'd stop pawing at me. I knew I was supposed to feel different about it, my friends were all jealous, but it just never felt... amazing. It was ok, at best. Maybe there was something wrong with me.

Anyway, that week I had several tests coming up the following day, so I told my boyfriend I had to study. It wasn't completely a lie. Sure, I knew I could pass the tests without much effort, but a little extra review was never a bad thing. Right?

“Jill!” Mr. Collins, my step-dad, called up the stairs at half past six. “The pizzas are here!”

It was still a little strange to have him around the house. He and my mom had gotten married the previous summer after a whirlwind romance. I was happy for her, even if it meant living with the principal of the elite private school I attended. It also meant that my teachers were in the house on Thursday evenings playing poker and drinking beer.

Life was surreal sometimes.

I wandered down the stairs to load up a few slices of pizza and snag a soda before taking my dinner back to my room to keep studying.

“Good evening, Jill,” my history professor greeted me with a warm smile. “Ready for tomorrow's test?”

“Hello, Mr. Lyons,” I smiled back, a little shyly. “I think so. I'm just going to study a bit more tonight.”

“I think we need to coordinate our test days a bit better, Sam,” my math teacher, Mr. Garrison, laughed. “It's not really fair to Jill here to have two tests on the same day!”

“That's ok, Mr. G,” I said as I added a second slice of pizza to my plate. “I'm feeling good about your 'pop quiz' tomorrow.” Mr. Garrison winked at me like we shared a secret joke. He would never fully admit when we were going to have a test, but if you paid attention, like I did, it was pretty obvious.

I turned and headed out of the kitchen, but as soon as my foot hit the first stair, I realized I'd forgotten my soda on the counter, so I turned back around.

“I don't know how you concentrate on anything with that girl walking around here in those tiny shorts.”

I froze at the sound of Mr. Lyons' voice, unable to keep walking forwards or even retreat to my room where I could pretend I hadn't heard anything.

“Tell me about it,” I recognized the voice of my English professor, Mr. James. “I can barely keep my mind on the lessons I'm supposed to be teaching with her sitting in the front row in that damned plaid skirt.”

“I never really understood the allure of the whole school girl fantasy until she ended up in my class,” Mr. Garrison agreed.

“You all should count yourselves lucky,” my PE teacher, Mr. Holloway, spoke up. “Last week, we started the swim portion of the semester. Her registration might say she's seventeen, but that girl is one hundred percent woman.”

The men all groaned. I could hear the blood pulsating in my ears, my cheeks were burning, and a strange new sensation filled my belly. I was getting turned on listening to them talk about me.

“You think that's bad,” my step-dad's voice was deep and gravelly. It scraped over me like a cat's tongue, sending a shiver racing down my spine. “At least in class she wears a one piece. Last August we went to the beach. I swear, the bikini she wore was little more than a couple of strings. I had to spend most of the time in the water so she wouldn't get spooked.”

“You don't really think she's a virgin, do you?” Mr. Holloway asked. “You know she's been dating that punk, Rick, for a while now.”

“Don't remind me,” my step-dad groaned. “And I know she's probably not, especially after dating him. Her mom put her on the pill last spring, so you know what that means. Still, there's a big difference between seeing her teenage boyfriend and her full-grown step-father who should not be staring at her t**s as much as I do.”

“I know you and Monica have an open marriage,” Mr. Garrison laughed, “but I'm not sure that includes her daughter.”

“No sh*t,” my step-dad laughed back. “I know that, but there are times I'd love to spread her-”

He suddenly stopped and for a moment I was worried he had heard my heart racing at the words I wasn't supposed to hear.

My step-dad appeared in the doorway, my forgotten soda in his hand and his eyes wide as he stared at me. The heat in my cheeks felt like I might suddenly combust and I could tell he knew I'd heard. Maybe he didn't know how much I'd heard, but I wasn't doing a good job at pretending to not have heard anything.

“Jill, I...”

I quickly shook my head, not wanting to hear an excuse or for him to deny it. I snatched the soda out of his hand, and quickly ran up the stairs and into my room. As soon as I was safely inside, I dropped the plate of pizza on my desk and collapsed on my bed, panting for air. There was moisture between my legs, a throbbing that I'd never felt before, and I wanted desperately to touch myself, to try to ease some of the pressure building in me, but I wasn't sure how.

After a few minutes, my heart rate began to slow down, and I stared at my ceiling, feeling a little foolish. I know I'd heard what I'd heard, but it didn't really mean anything. It was just men talking. For all I knew, all guys talked like that. I knew most of my boyfriend's friends all thought we were having s*x, even though I'd never even been completely naked with him before. Sure, he pressured me sometimes, but I just wasn't ready to go all the way with him yet.

Sighing, I tried to put the conversation I'd overheard out of my mind. I had studying to do. At least it would keep me busy.

A few hours later, I heard the front door close as my teachers left for the night. At first, I thought they'd stopped early, but I was surprised to see it was already after ten.

There was a soft knock on my door. “Come in,” I said quietly, once again feeling an echo of the shyness I couldn't quite explain.

My step-dad stuck his head inside and gave me a lopsided grin. “Can I come inside for a minute?” he asked. I could already tell he'd had a few more drinks than he normally did, but he didn't really sound drunk.

“Ok,” I squeaked, shutting my book and putting it on the desk.

I expected him to sit on my desk chair, but instead, he sat next to me on the bed, our knees nearly touching.

“I feel like I need to apologize,” he started. “And to try to explain.”

“That's really not necessary,” I shook my head quickly. I'd managed to not think about all the things I'd heard, and ignore the feelings it had woken up in me. I really didn't want to talk about it. Especially not with him!

“It is, Jill,” he insisted. “I'm your step-father and your principal. I don't want you to ever think you're not safe with me. I would never do anything to hurt you or put you at risk. As for what you heard,” he paused to run his hand through his short brown hair as he let out a soft sigh. He was an attractive older man, and I took a moment to see him as a man instead of my principal or my mother's husband.

He kept himself looking impeccably groomed with his short hair, clean shaven jaw, and the tailored suits he wore to school. But I liked him more like this, the way he sat facing me in a pair of jeans and a faded t-shirt. There was a faint shadow of stubble on his chin, and his hair was messy from him running his hand through it too many times. His deep green eyes shone in the low light of my single lamp as he looked at me, trying to find the words he thought I needed to hear.

“I know you're sexually active,” my cheeks heated with his words and I had to look away. “So, maybe you can understand that desire doesn't always make sense.”

I was shaking my head in denial. “I'm not,” I whimpered, not sure why it mattered that he knew.

“You're not... what?” he asked, clearly confused.

My cheeks heated even more until I was sure I was going to light on fire. “I'm not active,” I whispered so quietly, I barely even heard myself.

“But you...” this time he shook his head in denial. “Look, you don't need to be embarrassed, Jill. I know you sneak Rick in here sometimes.”

“You knew about that?” I exclaimed, feeling a rush of shame.

“I was seventeen once, too, you know,” he grinned. “I know how exciting it is at first. As long as he treats you right, I won't say anything to your mom.”

“We haven't... done that,” I murmured. “I've given him a blow job, but that's about it.”

“Has he... reciprocated at least?”

“Not... exactly,” I shook my head, not entirely believing that I was saying the words. Suddenly, I wanted him to know, though. I needed to confide in someone and he was looking at me with so much concern. “He's tried, but I think there's something wrong with me. I can't... get off. I've never even been as turned on as I was listening to you downstairs before. I'm a freak.”

There was a long pause and I was afraid to look at him, afraid to see the truth that I really was a freak reflected in his eyes.

“Baby, there's nothing wrong with you,” he finally said gently. My eyes snapped to his at the way he said the words. The green had seemed to darken and he was looking at me like he was seeing me for the first time.

Maybe it was the alcohol in his system that made him lean forward, but I didn't have anything to blame for the way I let him kiss me. Let him press me back onto the bed. My fingers gripped his shoulders as his tongue slid into my mouth. I could taste the pungent flavor of the whiskey he'd had, and I sucked his tongue gently, causing him to moan.

His hands ran up my sides, dragging my thin tank top over my head. His t-shirt was slightly rough on my sensitive n*****s, and I arched my back as they pebbled, wanting to feel more.

My eyes opened as he broke the kiss to look down at me. I searched his gaze for any sign that he was regretting what was happening between us, but all I could find was a hunger that I felt deep in my gut. The knowledge that he wanted me as much as I wanted him was heavy.

No words were needed between us. He lowered his head, this time to trail kisses down my throat, over my collarbone, and down until he captured one firm n****e in his hot mouth and suckled gently. I cried out at the new sensation, overcome with wanton lust. Every pull of his mouth sent a spear of need through me. He bit down, not hard, just enough for a tiny sliver of pain that had my hips rolling against him, before gently licking and sucking again.

And then I felt his lips on my belly, going lower and lower as his fingers dragged my shorts over my hips, down my thighs, past my ankles to land on the floor with a soft thud.

His hands were warm on my inner thighs as he spread me wide. My breath hitched when I felt the first swipe of his tongue, gentle, teasing, but holding a promise of more than I'd ever imagined. I felt his warm breath fan against my heated skin as his fingers spread me open and his tongue took another lazy tour of my flower. This time, there was more pressure and he circled around my bundle of nerves until I was writhing against him.

One of his fingers began pushing into me as I cried out, my fingers digging into the sheets and my toes curling. His tongue kept the slow torture on my clit even as his finger began moving in and out in an erotic rhythm as primal and feral as time immortal.

I was panting for breath, mewling like a wild animal, trying to hang on to my sanity by my fingertips. There was a heat burning in my belly, twisting and spreading out to my limbs. He added a second finger, stretching my body, keeping the maddeningly slow pace, his tongue lapping up my juices and driving me to the brink.

“Come for me, baby.”

I barely registered his words, I was beyond spoken communication. I now only knew the language of my body, but something in me snapped at the quiet command. Searing heat burned through me as pleasure, more intense than anything I'd ever felt before, crashed into me and dragged me off the edge. I cried out as my body quivered, feeling like my bones had all melted or turned to jelly.

Blinking up at him through my lashes, I bit my lip at the self-satisfied grin on his face.

He crawled back up my body until he was once again pressing me into the mattress, lowering his mouth to kiss my lips greedily. I could taste myself on his tongue now, mingling with the whiskey. The fire that he had ignited was kindling back to life. I was aware of every cell of my body. The way his t-shirt rubbed my chest, the feeling of his hard-on encased in denim pressing against my thigh, his silky hair gripped between my fingers.

“I should let you get some sleep,” his voice rumbled against my ear as he pulled away. “It's a school night, and it's late.”

Wait. What?

I blinked at him, praying I hadn't heard him correctly. He wasn't really going to leave me like this, was he?

He started to stand up, and I let out a pathetic whimper, still a slave to my body's demands.

Guilt drew his eyebrows together as he looked into my eyes. “Jill, I shouldn't have let it get that far,” he whispered.

“Then why not finish it?” I asked, silently appalled that it only took one orgasm to turn me into a slut.

“Jill,” he let out a soft sigh, but he wasn't making any move to get up, to move away from me.

“Mr. Collins,” I said, but after having his tongue tasting the most intimate parts of me, it sounded foreign and strange. “Nick,” I tested his first name, deciding it felt better, even if it still made me squirm a little. “Please.”

“Do you have any idea what you're asking me for?” his voice was strained, his eyes pleading with me.

“Make me feel,” I whispered, closing my eyes and arching into him. “Fill me up and make me yours.”

“F*ck.” The curse was barely audible, but I hoped it meant he was going to give me what I so desperately needed.

He stood up, and for a horrible fleeting moment, I thought he was going to leave. Instead, He reached up to pull his shirt over his head, and quickly undid his pants, pushing them down until he could kick them off. I didn't have much time to look, but I could already tell he was much bigger than my boyfriend. Was I really sure I could do this?

His shaft rubbed through my moist folds as he settled on top of me again, the curly hair on his chest tickling my n*****s as I wrapped my arms around him and smiled.

“Are you sure?” he asked me.

Was I? There was no turning back after this. No taking it back. But I'd already come this far, there was already no turning back. His c**k was pressed against me, my hips flexing, straining, demanding.

“Yes,” I nodded. “I'm sure.”

His lips were on mine in an instant, his tongue plunging into my mouth, building the heat back to a crescendo. My legs wrapped around his waist as his hips flexed against mine, letting his rod slide over me, notching against my clit with every gentle thrust until once again, I was writhing and moaning, so far into my pleasure that I was barely aware of the words coming from my lips.

I felt his tip pressed against me, and then he was pushing into me, stretching me more than I knew was possible. It wasn't painful, but it was strange.

“F*ck you're tight,” he grunted as he stilled. “Breathe, baby. Just breathe, ok?”

I wasn't sure what he meant. I was already panting, my lungs struggling to draw enough oxygen from the air. But then he pushed harder and a stab of pain made me freeze.

“Breathe, baby,” he said again, and I realized I'd held my breath at the feeling of him pushing all the way in.

I took a shaky breath, and then another, feeling the pain beginning to ebb. I still felt like I was stretched beyond what was strictly comfortable, but the new sensation of pleasure was starting to come back. I moved my hips experimentally, whimpering at how good it felt.

“Are you ok?” I blinked up at his concerned face, and nodded. Words escaped me, so I moved my hips again, hoping he'd understand and start to move again.

Slowly, he pulled out before pressing forward again. I groaned at the feeling and closed my eyes, gripping his shoulders tightly. He built me up with his slow pace again until my hips were thrashing against him. His breath was warm on my neck as he began thrusting into me, no longer trying to be gentle as his own pleasure took over.

His grunts were low and almost animalistic as his c**k slammed into me. I cried out, feeling like my body was about to burst. The twisting sensation inside was back, but this time I didn't need him to tell me to come. I couldn't have stopped it even if I'd wanted to. I leaped off the precipice willingly, letting my body feel everything.

As my muscles clenched and I screamed my release, Nick thrust deep inside and stilled, letting out a primal growl as he spilled into me. I could feel the searing warmth of his seed splashing against my internal walls, filling every part of me until I was overflowing.

Breathing hard, he collapsed on the bed beside me. His arm hugged me close, and I rested my head on his chest, listening to the wild beat of his heart.

I knew the morning would bring awkwardness to our house, but for the time being, I was content to lay in my lover's arms. The consequences of our actions could wait until the sun came up on a new day.