Warning:
This story is a work of fiction and contains descriptions of explicit sexual acts between women. If this type of content offends you or you are under the age of 18 do not read it.
Author's Note:
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Copyright 2009 Jan, All rights reserved
Please mail to janmay696@yahoo.com if you have suggestions for future stories.
Small Town Domination
By
Jan
One night I was working late along with another woman. Hazel had excused herself to go to the ladies room. After a long time I became concerned that something was wrong with her. I eventually followed her into the bathroom and upon opening the second door I called out, "Hazel! Is everything alright?"
When I entered the bathroom I saw her feet under the partition of one of the cubicles. The door to the stall was slightly open. I saw that her skirt was pulled up around her waist, and her hand was between her legs. There was no doubt that she was stabbing her fingers into her cunt fast and furiously. When she saw me she used her foot to kick the door shut.
I felt foolish when I asked, "What are you doing?"
Her response was just as foolish, "Oh Nothing!" But she did put her foot back on the floor and let the door swing open. That allowed me to get a full frontal view of her pussy. She had either removed her panties or didn't have any on in the first place. She still had her hand resting on her cunt. "WELL I WAS MASTURBATING!" then she giggled.
I rested my butt against the man made marble vanity as I said, "I do that a lot myself. Are you near cumming, if you are, go ahead and do it!" I told her.
I did the same thing at least once a week myself. No matter how many times I told myself that it was too risky, I could not resist doing it.
Hazel said, "WELL I WAS about to cum, but since you're here, I've kind of lost the mood."
"Will this help you get back in the mood?" I asked while lifting my skirt up, giving her a great view of my lace panties, as I stepped closer. I knew that my dark pubic hair was visible through the lace of the panties.
"Yes!" she said as she reached for the waistband in order to pull the garment down.
"Not yet," I said, "We are almost finished here, so how about we go to a motel and make a night of it?"
(It was a Friday night, so there was no work the following day.)
"GAWD Yes" she readily agreed.
We straightened up our clothes and the office before she followed me to an inexpensive motel just off the interstate. It was the kind of place where the clerks rent out the same room more than once a night.
We even took advantage of the closed circuit TV to watch a porn movie of women eating pussy to get in the mood for the real thing. I do love the smell and taste of a ripe pussy. While she had her head buried between my legs I had plenty of time to remember my past.
I grew up in a small town located in the central valley of California on the old Highway 99. The town all but blew away when the new 5 Freeway bypassed the town several miles west of 99. My family belonged to one of those fundamental rightwing churches that preach that all sex is a sin and only the righteous will be saved when Armageddon comes. You can't help but wonder why they have so many children.
I was a 14-year old, with brown eyes and long dark hair. I was barely 85 pounds, a petite girl, and thought I would never develop. I was just rebellious enough to defy the dress code at church.
I was always being admonished by a self- righteous woman called Sister Karen. She was married, medium length dirty blond hair, and the most crystal blue eyes I have ever seen. She had a slender body from years of hard work. All of her dresses looked alike, simple cotton prints that ended well below her knees. I was sure she wore pantyhose with her simple practical shoes. Even in those sack dresses her breasts were impressive. I was too young to know for sure but I'm sure she must have been a 36-C, or better. I might have been deliberately pushing her just because her body was too good to be wasting it on the rubes in this town.
One day she pulled me aside, because my skirt was well above my knees, showing off my bare thighs. She pulled me out of the classroom, and pulled me into an empty room. She made me sit down. I made sure I sat down very unladylike, while she gave me a lecture about the proper way for righteous women to dress. I caught her eyes returning to the center of my body several times.
When she paused for a second to catch her breath, I asked, "Do you like what you see?"
Her face turned red and she was standing over me when she slapped my face hard enough to almost knock me off the chair. We wound up on the floor. She was stronger than me and I fought back as much as I could but at some point I found myself pinned to the floor and she was kissing me on the mouth. She was also rubbing her body between my legs. We were both sweating by the time she recovered her composure. She threated to never come to church dressed like a whore again.
She made me go home with her. I expected that her husband would be there, but she told me that her husband was in San Francisco. She called my mother to tell her that I would be spending the night for attitude adjustment.
When it was bedtime she surprised me by insisting that we were not going to put on any nightgowns. I got a good look at her breasts as they sagged on her chest a little. When she lifted them I saw that there was a heat rash under the tits where her bra rested on her ribs. I lowered my eyes down to check out what her cunt looked like. Her pubic hair was the same dishwater blond as the hair on her head, if not lighter. It was not all that thick and her labia were clearly visible sticking well below her crack.
She didn't even turn out the light when we went to bed. She drew me close to her and felt me up, like boys did in the back seat of their cars. She encouraged me to feel her up too. I was fascinated with her breasts. They felt so soft under my hands. She did caution me not to squeeze so hard. It was thrilling to bury my face between her tits. I could smell her natural body odor because she didn't use perfumes. The only fragrance I could smell was Irish Spring soap. In the heat of the moment I placed my hand between her legs and felt her pussy.
She spread her legs to give me full access to her cunt. I finger fucked her until she climaxed. I could feel how slippery the walls of her pussy got. When she finished I withdrew my hand and could not resist smelling my fingers. It was so exciting to be doing something so forbidden. I didn't even have to ask her to suck my pussy.
She got down between my legs and sucked my pussy like a sex starved whore. She didn't resist when I placed my hands on her head and directed the action. She didn't even flinch when I rolled my body up and pushed her head down so that she could lick my asshole.
After that I made a point to be alone with her several times a week. If her husband was home I would confront her at church after the congregation made their exit. During the day when there was no one around but the two of us. I would confront her with my desire for sex.
It would embarrass her when I would pull up my skirt and show her that I didn't even have panties on. She would practically be crying as she would go to her knees in front of me and suck my pussy. I became aware that I could make her do anything I wanted. Any time she hesitated to do as I wanted, I simply would walk away leaving her begging me not to leave.
While I was turning Sister Karen into my personal sex slave I was gathering five girls at school around me. We would remain after our softball practice or games until the other girls had dressed and gone before we would take our shower together. Every team has a few girls so religious that they would not even dish the dirt with the rest of the team. The rest of us would have a great time peeing on each other before we would shower. You know that we could not keep that up for long before the coach caught us.
She was one of the girls that had grown up in the valley herself but had gone to college in Oregon just to find out what it was like to live in a community where it actually rained regularly. She went to college as a Biology Major with a full scholarship to play softball for U of O. She was still under thirty and had an athletic build with a blond ponytail under her baseball cap.
She knew right away that I was the instigator of the games. She singled me out when the rest of my gang had hastily made their departure. Rather than admonish me with threats of expulsion, she drove me home. Only she pulled her Ford pickup off the rural road behind a wind row of trees and started kissing me. There was no argument from me. I was happy to remove my panties and fling my left leg over the back of the bench seat. The coach sure knew what to do with her mouth. I did not need to be told what to do to her afterwards.
When Sister Karen and her husband moved to San Francisco, there were the tearful goodbyes, but I was already spending most of my time with the coach. The only problem was I could not control her. I had developed a taste for dominating older women.
It was only natural that I looked for another Sister Karen in the church. After all, what better place to find a woman that would be completely submissive? It didn't take long to find her replacement. The church had a sweet, slender woman, very tall that played the Yamaha electric organ for church services. She dressed just as conservatively as Sister Karen. Her hair was a chestnut brown. She was not a vain woman so she never let her hair reach the back of her neck. One look at her and you knew she could not look another person directly in the eye when talking to them. It was a simple matter to befriend her.
I asked her if she could teach me to play the organ. She was flattered to be asked and offered to teach me for free. We would meet in the library of the church because it was the coolest room in the building. While she was standing behind me placing my hands on the keyboard I deliberately rested my head between her small breasts. I could tell by her breathing that she was excited, even if she could not bring herself to admit it.
One day when she was sitting in a wooden chair next to me I placed my hand on top of her thigh. The thin cotton summer dress allowed me to feel her muscles in her legs. I could tell that she was very nervous but could not bring herself to admit that I was touching her inappropriately. She was trying to make believe that nothing was going on. When my hand slipped into her lap and pressed the material of her dress against her crotch, her hands froze on the keyboard. She turned her head towards me and was about to say something, when I kissed her on the mouth. She was too shocked to respond. She sat there dumbfounded by my actions. The kiss disturbed her so much she forgot all about my hands resting on her pussy until I stuffed her dress and panties into her crack with my finger. That caused her to grab my wrist and she protested, "You shouldn't be doing things like that."
She was not strong enough to pull my hand away from her pussy. I masturbated her until she actually climaxed. At that point she surrendered to me completely. She kissed me on the mouth as passionately as any woman had ever kissed me before. It was my turn to be shocked.
She pushed the keyboard away and knelt in front of me. I was still in the habit of wearing short skirts. She pulled my tight panties aside to expose my pussy. When she saw my damp pubic hair she kissed my vulva as passionately as she had my mouth. I knew I had my replacement slave as I rubbed my pussy all over her face. At the moment I was brought back to the present when my coworker pulled my pubic hair.
Hazel had pulled some of my pubic hairs with her teeth. I could not let her get away with that unpunished, because I would lose control of our relationship. I grabbed a handful of hair and rolled over on top of her. I sat on her lovely breasts and ground my pussy into her mouth before I pissed into her mouth. She surrendered completely to me at that point, and swallowed my pee as fast as she could. We were a couple of sweaty whores by morning. We didn't bother showering in that place. We went directly to her home to gather up her things and headed to my home. There would be plenty of time to move her belongings into my home later.
I hope you enjoyed the story, and if you have a story you would like told, please send your mail to janmay696@yahoo.com