Kaileen Withers knelt on the man’s bed; shoulders pressed to the mattress. Her small hands gripped her full buttocks, pulling them open.
She felt the mattress shifting, sinking under his weight as he walked on his knees behind her. She shivered with anticipation.
Kaileen knew what an erotic sight she was presenting; her hands firmly pulling on her round buttocks, her light brown anus greasy, wet looking with lubrication, her strip of blonde curls and light pink pussy lips puffy and wet with her excitement as she waited for that first moment of penetration.
That was always the best; that first painful jab of a blunt cock or strap-on dildo pressing against her rapidly constricting anus, the sudden sharp jolt as her lover pushed into her resisting rectum. Kaileen didn’t know why her body betrayed her and fought against the intrusion when she loved it so much, craved it so much.
She could taste her lover’s sperm; Kaileen had sucked him off. She always got the first one out of the way, so that her lover could last longer. There was nothing worse than getting herself ready for anal play, only to have her partner grunt, groan, then collapse as they pumped their spunk into her bowels almost immediately after penetrating her.
His semen was bitter, salty, cloying. Kaileen enjoyed the act of sucking cock, the taste and texture of a man’s flesh. The velvet softness of his skin, the heat of his excitement, the hard flesh underneath that soft covering. The taste of his sweat and soap, even a tinge of his urine as she bobbed her head up and down the length of his manhood.
Kaileen liked playing with their heavy balls while her lips, tongue, and throat toyed with their cocks. She loved the soft pouch, the bristles of their stiff pubic hair, the sponginess of the two egg shaped testicles in her small hand.
Kaileen wasn’t too crazy about the taste of semen, though. Swallowing was a lot less messy than trying to hold it in her mouth and looking for somewhere to spit it out.
Truthfully, when it came to ejaculations, Kaileen preferred the taste of a woman. She also preferred the act of pleasuring a woman, the rubbery texture of their pussy lips, the bristle of her pubic hair against her lips and tongue, the smell and taste of her lover’s excitement.
However, when it came to ass fucking, men just had a natural advantage. And, that advantage came about because of a man’s natural selfishness. Most men would jam their cocks in, and pound, desperate for their relief. Even the most considerate of lovers would quickly give in to their own desires as they felt Kaileen’s muscles trying to expel their hard cocks, feel Kaileen’s flesh gripping, pulsing around their hard cocks.
A woman tried too damned hard to be gentle. A woman tried too damned hard to make sure they didn’t hurt Kaileen. None of them ever seemed to understand; she wanted it to hurt. Not hurt as in searing, mind-numbing pain, but that sweet electric jab of pain.
Kaileen knew what an erotic sight she was presenting; she had knelt in this exact position in front of the mirror on the back of her bedroom door and had glanced over her shoulder. Just like now, her denim cut-offs had been bunched around her knees, plain white cotton panties sodden with her excitement halfway down her thighs.
Kaileen shivered and sucked in a breath when she felt his hand on her hip. She shivered as she felt the head of his cock bounce blindly against her left thigh.
“Uh!” Kaileen grunted as the man’s cock pressed against her clenched anus.
“Ugh!” her lover agreed.
“Fuck yes,” Kaileen groaned through gritted teeth as he pushed, forcing himself into her resisting bowels.
She could feel the plum shaped head of the man’s cock pushing, stretching her open. She could feel the flared ridge of his foreskin curling back as her treacherous sphincter struggled to deny him entry.
She shook with strain as she pulled on her buttocks. She shook, trying to hold herself stock still, to make his progress as easy as possible.
This had been the second uncircumcised cock Kaileen had ever seen. Performing oral sex on an uncircumcised cock was different; she had to use her tongue more, use her lips more on an uncut cock.
She did enjoy how the foreskin curled, flared out, created that thick ridge. She could now feel that thick ridge pushing into her anal sheath as her lover pushed forward.
“Ugh, God damn, that ass is tight,” the man wheezed, but continued to force himself into her.
“Uh huh,” Kaileen grunted as he had almost half of his six inches inside of her now.
He had both hands on her hips now. He used her hips to hold her still. He used her hips to pull her back, to meet his forward progress.
“Uh, oh yes,” Kaileen hissed as that familiar warmth began to churn inside of her guts.
She shook as she could feel the flared ridge of his thick foreskin rasping along her rectal walls. She could feel the blunt head pushing into her. She could feel his thick shaft as he thrust deeply into her.
“Ugh, oh God,” the man wheezed as his stiff pubic hair rested against Kaileen’s stretched anus.
“Fuck me,” Kaileen ordered, voice hoarse with the strain.
The man reached underneath her tee shirt and began to play with her 32D breasts. Kaileen gasped out when he gave a cruel pinch to her hard nipples.
She let go of her right buttock and began to play with her drooling pussy. Her hand rubbed up and down her splayed pussy lips while the man began to pull his cock out.
“Uh, uh, uh,” Kaileen began to grunt as her orgasm approached.
“Fuck, I can’t, aw fuck,” her lover complained and Kaileen felt that first white-hot blast of his semen jetting into her bowels.
“Fuck, uh, oh God,” Kaileen cried out as her own orgasm crested.
A moment later, still gasping and wheezing, the man pulled his shriveled cock from Kaileen’s slimy rectum. Kaileen held panties and shorts at mid-thigh as she waddled to his bathroom.
She did not bother turning on the light. Her lover did not make his bed; Kaileen shuddered to think what his bathroom must look like. She put down the seat and flopped down, guts already cramping slightly.
While in his bathroom, Kaileen felt along her pubic mound. Waxing was definitely better than shaving; it was over a week since she had given herself a trim and she still couldn’t feel any stubble.
Annie Trujillio, her first anal lover had a bald pussy. Kaileen had thought the beautiful Latin girl’s pussy had looked cute, but for herself, she preferred the sight of a little hair. This way, her lover could look at Kaileen’s crotch and tell that Kaileen was indeed a natural blonde.
“You uh, man! Sure you won’t stay a bit longer?” the man asked when Kaileen left his bathroom.
“Sorry, sugar,” Kaileen lied. “My turn do the cooking.”
“Fuck, we’ll order them a pizza,” the man suggested. “Shit, I’ll even pay for it.”
Kaileen could have stayed a little longer. It was her night to cook; every night was her night to cook. Her grandmother was less than skilled in the kitchen and had tired of four children that whined about her cooking.
“Fine! Y’all don’t like what I fix y’all? Then y’all do it,” the woman had snapped.
Jayanne wasn’t much better than Grandmother. Kaileen, however, read the instructions, deduced what the recipes called for, and added her own flair to the meals. Now, cooking was her chore.
Kaileen had no desire to stay with the man any longer though. She’d fucked, she’d had an orgasm, and now it was time to go. She didn’t even know the man’s name.
His motorcycle had been parked next to her car on the university campus. They’d both arrived at their vehicles at the same time and Kaileen had asked, chest thrust forward, for a ride.
She’d had her ride, and more. And now, she was ready to go.
“Come on, good looking,” Kaileen smiled, grabbing her purse from the floor. “Need give me a ride back to my car, okay?”
“Uh huh, going bend over like that in front of me and I’m going be able think?” the man chuckled.
Riding on his modified Harley-Davidson, Kaileen shivered. The powerful engine rumbled and thrummed, sending delicious vibrations deep within her still quite sore rectum. The vibrations and slight bumps and jolts send pleasure throughout her pussy; she should have put a panty liner in the crotch. Her nipples rasped deliciously against the rough texture of her tee shirt as she leaned heavily against his muscled back.
“Thanks, Sugar,” Kaileen smiled when he pulled up next to her twenty-year-old Toyota Camry.
“See you around, okay?” the man said and smiled when Kaileen gave him a quick kiss.
“Don’t think so, but thanks,” Kaileen said as he roared away. “Didn’t even clean your dick after I got my shit all over it? Nasty bastard.”
Kaileen gave a little tremor when her buttocks came in contact with the sun-warmed fabric of her seat.
Starting the car, she looked at her gas gauge and frowned. Her wallet had a few wadded bills, just enough for a gallon of gas.
“Woo-hoo!” Kaileen let out a whoop as she discovered a twenty-dollar bill folded over neatly in the second flap of the bulky wallet.
At the convenience store, Kaileen waited behind three Latin women that jabbered back and forth in their native tongue. Even though she did not speak Spanish, Kaileen deduced that the women were buying numerous lottery tickets for that night’s drawing.
“Ten for pump three,” Kaileen said when she reached the thick plate glass window.
“Getting a ticket?” the man asked. “Jackpot’s supposed hit eighty million.”
“Sure; what the hell,” Kaileen shrugged.
“Numbers? Or you want a quick pick?” the man asked.
Kaileen calculated her grandmother’s age, added two, divided by six, her older sister’s age, added three, then divided by five, her own age, added four and divided by four, her brother’s age, added five and divided by three, her baby sister’s age, added six and divided by two. Then, since there were five of them living in the single wide trailer, five was her last number.
There were actually six of them, but Kaileen did not like George Peters, her grandmother’s boyfriend. So, she didn’t count the man when she did her mental tally.
Kaileen managed the calculations in her head in under one second and rattled off the numbers to the man that sat behind the pane of glass. He entered the numbers into his machine, then slid the ticket to her.
Kaileen verified the numbers, then nodded her thanks.
Outside, Kaileen knew her cutoffs were giving tantalizing glimpses of her plain white cotton panties, tantalizing glimpses of her pale buttocks as she bent to insert the nozzle into the Toyota. She was sure she could feel the old proprietor’s beady eyes on her bottom. Again, she felt a tremor of excitement. Giving tantalizing glimpses, advertising her wares was why she wore the nearly obscene shorts.
After completing the chore of pumping gas, Kaileen got into her car. She reached into the pouch on the back of the passenger seat and retrieved her bra. A young lady filling up her car at pump number 6 smiled as she watched Kaileen wiggle herself into her bra. Kaileen gave the woman a little nod and drove away.
Arriving home at the trailer, Kaileen sighed. J.J., her younger brother had tried, again, to use the metal steps in front of the trailer, instead of the ramp that had been built specifically for him to use. As a result, one of his crutches was stuck, the rubber stopper slipping through a space in the corrugated metal step.
Kaileen understood that J.J. hated having to use the ramp, hated to admit that he needed to use the ramp. He had been born with Spina Bifida and needed leg braces and crutches to walk. But he tried desperately to be normal.
“Hey, hold on, here,” Kaileen said, bending to help pull the stopper free.
“Go away, fat ass whore,” J.J. snarled, tears of frustration pouring down his face.
“Uh huh; how long you been stuck out here?” Kaileen asked, not upset at his hurtful words.
“I ain’t stuck,” J.J. shrilled. “I just need get…”
“J.J., you ’bout pull this off,” Kaileen pointed out. “Hold still; let me get it before you break it.”
She managed to twist the crutch free, without toppling the seventeen-year-old over. Then she stood and slapped him on the back of his head, hard.
“That’s for calling me fat ass,” she said, and gave him a second slap. “And that one’s for calling me a whore. Now, go use the ramp, ‘less you want another one, huh?”
She turned and dashed up the steps before J.J. could lash out with his crutch. Jerking the door open, she saw Jayanne and Layla standing in the living room. Both sisters smirked at her.
“How long he been out there?” Kaileen asked.
“‘Bout ten minutes,” Layla said.
“And y’all didn’t…” Kaileen asked.
“Called me a stupid bitch,” Layla said.
“Told me get my knocked-up fat ass away from him,” Jayanne smirked.
“You pull them leg quarters out like I asked you?” Kaileen asked, going to the kitchen.
“Shit,” Jayanne said.
“Uh huh,” Kaileen said, grabbing the package of leg quarters.
A few minutes later, J.J. staggered into the trailer. Kaileen didn’t turn from her task of cutting onions.
“You hit me, I’m knock the shit out of you,” Kaileen said.
“Hate you,” J.J. snarled.
At the dinner table, Kaileen couldn’t help but think that Jason Withers, their father was a very pretty man. Anne Morrison, their grandmother, was a plain looking woman, with mousy brown hair, flat brown eyes, and premature wrinkles. Stephanie Morrison, their mother, looked exactly like her mother. Both Grandmother and Momma, however, did have quite large breasts, narrow waists, and rounded backsides.
Both Momma and Grandmother liked to fuck. If the noises coming from their grandmother’s room were any indication, fucking was something they were good at and that talent did not diminish with age.
Jayanne Stephanie Putnam had their father’s blonde hair, light blue eyes, pouting lips, and their mother’s body. Jayanne’s breasts were growing even larger and her buttocks were spreading due to being six months pregnant.
Larry Putnam, Jayanne’s husband had seemed like a good guy, even if he was fourteen years older than the twenty-year-old Jayanne. When Jayanne told him she was preggers, Larry Putnam agreed to a quick marriage and Jayanne and Larry moved into his mother’s trailer.
Isolating the beautiful young woman from her friends and family began quietly, subtly. Then the verbal and emotional abuse followed.
Then the slaps followed the isolation, the verbal and emotional abuse. Slaps were followed by punches. Larry’s mother did nothing to stop her son’s abuse of Jayanne, did nothing to help her daughter-in-law. After all, the little blonde hussy had got herself pregnant in order to trap her precious little man, trick him into a loveless marriage.
When Jayanne fought back, using Mildred’s largest cast iron skillet, Mildred called the police. But seeing Jayanne’s black eye and bloody lip, the police arrested Larry. While Larry was being arraigned, Jayanne moved out of the Putnam trailer and back into Grandmother’s trailer.
J.J., Jason Paul Withers, Junior was a pretty boy. He had blond hair, blue eyes, and pouting lips. Because of his spinal deformity, he had poor bladder and bowel control and wore diapers. As a result of his handicap, no girls ever accepted J.J.’s overtures. And no boys befriended J.J., even at school.
Kaileen did muse, as desperate as J.J. was to be normal, as desperate as he was to have a friend, he would be easy pickings for anyone despicable enough to take advantage of him.
At nineteen, Kaileen Paula Withers had blonde hair, light blue eyes, pouting lips, heart shaped face and ripe body. She also had her father’s superior intellect. Unlike Jason Withers, though, Kaileen actually put that intellect to use. She didn’t fall trap to the constant ‘get-rich-quick’ schemes that her father constantly chased after, dragging their mother with him.
“Damn, Kaileen, going make someone a fine wife someday, I tell you that,” George complimented. “Damn; these biscuits alone, I’d marry you if I wasn’t so crazy ’bout your grandma, I swear.”
“Thanks,” Kaileen said in a flat tone of voice.
“Yeah,” Layla agreed, sopping up the last of her gravy with her biscuit.
Layla Janice Withers was the spitting image of Anne and Stephanie Morrison, without the wrinkles. She was not a cute kid, nor was she particularly bright. She also had no ambitions; she resisted Kaileen’s efforts to teach her how to cook.
“So, how was school?” Grandmother asked after lightly slapping George for ‘flirting’ with her granddaughter.
“Good,” Kaileen agreed. “Got my research paper back; one hundred.”
“Now, what they do with that?” George asked, trying to ingratiate himself to the girl.
“Nothing really,” Kaileen shrugged. “Everything I put down’s already out there. Marketing’s marketing. It don’t change much.”
“And you,” Grandmother asked J.J.
“Me what?” J.J. asked.
“School. How was school,” Grandmother repeated.
“Fine,” was J.J.’s reply.
“Layla?” Grandmother asked.
“Monique fell off the rope in gym class and broke her arm,” Layla said.
“Uh huh; and what’d you do?” Grandmother asked.
“Nothing; I’m done,” Layla announced, pushing away from the table.
“Uh huh; and it’s your turn do the dishes,” Kaileen reminded the girl.
“Thought, Kaileen Paula Withers, I know I told you throw them shorts out,” Grandmother fussed when Kaileen rose from the table.
“No ma’am, that was them other ones,” Kaileen lied.
“Need throw them out too,” Grandmother demanded.
The following day, after her last class of the day, Kaileen went to the library to use their computers. They did have a computer at home; an antique model that was actually George’s computer. As outdated as the computers in the Myndee University library might be, they were still faster than George’s old model.
The twenty computers were arranged in a square and the seven printers were arranged on a smaller table, in a square.
Kaileen completed her project and saw that printers one, two and three were in use so selected printer #4. With a groan, she heard that printer kick into life right after she sent the print request.
Long ago, when the IT specialists had set up the computers and printers, they discovered that students were selecting printer #1, and if that printer was in use, then they would jump to the next printer, then the next one, until they found one not in use.
That would be fine, except now printers 1, and 2, or 3 and 4 and 5 also had that student’s print requests in their queue and would jam up the network until all print requests were completed.
So, now, when a print request was made of a particular printer, the user was locked in that printer’s queue. They remained locked in that printer’s queue, even if they attempted to shut down their computer.
On a laminated 3 by 5 index card next to each computer, as well as next to each printer was a notice to all students; no print request could exceed ten pages at any time. There were others waiting to use the printer.
(If a print request was eleven or twelve pages, no one really counted the pages. One or two extra sheets were hardly noticeable.)
After five minutes, it became obvious that the request for printer number four had exceeded the allotted limit. When the printer jammed, three students let out a groan.
“Well, it’s not my fault,” Lisa Knight shrilled as the IT specialist left his station.
“Yes, Lisa, yes, it is your fault,” Kaileen spat.
“Knight, what the hell, huh?” the IT specialist said, gathering the thirty-six pages from the printer. “This is way more than ten pages.”