

                   I-I  Blackmailing the Queen  I-I



[Chapter 1 - Ann Ascends the Mountain]

Ann Macafee was one of those girls you dream about but never get.  

She hung around with the "in" crowd, which was a mixture of atheletes, 
college-preps, and the stars of the drama club.  You could see them at 
every lunch hour, all clustered around the big live-oak in the central 
quad, an invisible barrier of distain for all non-members seperating 
them from the general rabble.  We all hated them.  We all wanted to be 
them.  They were the elite that just naturally floats to the top of 
every high school.

Ann Macafee was their Queen.  She was the female lead of nearly every
play the school put on.  She dated the star of the football team (I
know, that sounds corny, but it was true) and hung around with the
kids-who-are-rich-and-will-be-richer.  Her family lived in the
foothills in a house that was just this side of an estate.  She had it
all, and she was beautiful.

Her beauty had that casual, effortless look.  Her short brown hair,
fine and fresh, framed a face that was almost a perfect match to that
girl whose father owns the hotel in Twin Peaks (I say that now, though
of course back then there was no Twin Peaks).  Her body, always clothed
in expensive wools and tweeds, was perfectly proportioned.  Her firm
high breasts looked like the models by which all other breasts are
designed.  Her round, tight ass gave only slightly when she perched on
a chair.  She had straight, dainty posture, and perfectly manicured
hands.  She was, in every sense, a perfect little doll.  And she knew
it.

Some people can put you down without saying a word - by the way they 
look at you, or avoid looking at you; or simply by the way they carry 
themselves.  Ann was a perfect example.  She was better than us, she 
seemed to say.  She would glide through the halls, aloof and apart, her
face a mask of calm seperateness, until she would spy another of the
elite circle and her expression would break into a smile of pure
warmth.

For most of my junior year I had suffered a devastating and quite
secret crush on Ann.  I was not a part of her life, of course.  I was
no nerd, but my friends were as I was, a part of the masses.  I was a
fairly good-looking young man, well built and handsome, or so I was
told by the girls I dated, but I did not posess that magic glamour that
permitted access to the higher circle.  Ann never looked at me, never
met my eyes.  We were lab partners in chemistry, and somehow she still
managed to avoid any kind of interaction.  The few times I tried to
make a joke or start a conversation, she withered me with total
disinterest.  It was horrible.

By my senior year I was pretty much over it, though.  I had enjoyed a 
pretty successfull summer, sexually speaking, and this had boosted my 
confidence to the point that I no longer needed an Ann Macafee.  Oh, I 
still appreciated her lovely long legs on those days she wore a skirt, 
and I still let my eyes roam her breasts when the weather was warm and 
she wore thin silk blouses.  But my obsession was over.

I thought that she would never enter my world.  But everything changed 
when I discovered that Ann led a secret life.

It was early in my senior year.  I had driven up to the top of Mt. 
Ervin, which is a popular make-out spot for the highschoolers.  I was 
working on a project for my photography class, and had gone up to Ervin 
Park to take some long-exposure shots, showing the stars streaking 
across the sky over time; a very common thing for amature photographers 
to do.  I did not want to be seen near the parking lot with a camera, 
since that was where the kids parked, and no one would be too happy if 
they saw me bopping around with my Nikon.  I had taken a few girls there 
myself, and I know I would have been pissed.

So I had hiked down the hillside and was approaching a small clearing I 
knew of, where I planned to set up the tripod and start the timed 
exposures.  The spot was quite sheltered from the parking lot and the 
road, which was important to me since a passing headlight would ruin my 
shot.  As I got within earshot of the clearing, I heard voices talking 
low.

"Shit" I whispered to myself.  Someone was using my spot - I didn't know 
anyone else knew about it.  I had taken Linda Short there to fuck her,
and had not been worried since I was sure it was a private spot.  Now I
knew differently.  I crept up quietly and peered from behind a bushy 
tree.

It was Ann Macafee, there with Bill Arnold.  I was totally shocked; Bill 
was known as sort of the school hoodlum.  He wore heavy metal T-shirts, 
engineer boots, and torn levis pretty much all the time.  He was just 
the sort the Ann would avoid like disease, yet here she was with him, at 
night, and in a very intimate spot.

They were kneeling over something and talking in hushed tones.  I could 
not tell what they were doing at first, then Bill lit a small candle.  I 
saw the mirror on the grass, and the razor blade glinting on its 
surface.  Aha, I thought:  Cocaine.  Now everything made sense; Ann 
liked coke (okey, that was suprising, but not insane) and Bill was 
certainly the most likely source for drugs on campus.

I could not make out what they were saying, but Bill's face was full of 
mischief.  Ann looked very anxious as she stared at the coke he was 
forming into a line on the mirror.  He did the line, then sat back, his 
vial of coke in his hand, and stared at her.  Finally, probably out of 
frustration, her voice rose to where I could hear it.

"Come on Bob.  Lay out a line for me.  You said you would."  She still 
held her usual expression of superiority, but there was a quivver of 
desperation in her voice that told me coke was not a casual thing for 
her.

"Maybe I will.  Wha'cha gonna do for me, Annie?" Bill said, leering at 
her.

"Fuck you!" Ann said and looked away.

Bill chuckled.  "Yeah, that's pretty much what I had in mind.  Pussy for 
coke.  Not a bad deal, when you consider how much this shit costs.  I'll
bet you've got a tight cunt..."

She whirled on him, but her anger caused her to drop her voice into a 
hiss and I could not hear what she said.  They spoke in low tones for a 
while, and it seemed to me that some sort of negotiation was going on.

They came to an agreement, and Ann said "God, you're a shit.  Alright, 
fine, let's get it over with."

Bill sat back on his elbows and smiled again.  "But you have to take it 
out."  When it looked like she was about to protest, he added "or no 
deal, Annie."

"Stop calling me that," she said, trying to remain the Queen.  But she 
reached out, lowered his zipper, and took out his cock, which was stiff 
as a pole.

I could not believe this, even though it was pretty obvious that he
wanted some kind of sex from her.  His cock was average in length, but
fat, with a slight bend near the had.  It had the vaguely bruised look
that comes from frequent use.  She gripped it lightly with her right
hand and began to jerk him off.

Bill moaned, then began to sprinkle some coke on the mirror with one 
hand while propping himself with the other.  When she leaned forward to 
take the mirror, he stopped her.

"This is the worst handjob I've even had, Annie.  Either you'd better 
get into it, babe, or no snow."

She looked pained and embarrased, but she leaned into her work on his 
dick and began stroking with both hands.  Bill was obviously enjoying 
her attentions, but I could tell by the look on his face that he was not 
going to settle for this.

I was incredibly turned on, watching this pristine queen jacking off
the school hood.  There she was, expensive knit skirt and cardigan
sweater, on her knees with a bent dick in her hand, stroking it.  She'd
obviously given hand before, which did not suprise me - that's probably
all girls like her did.  

I smiled to myself when I rememberd my Nikon was hanging around my
neck.  Thanking my lucky stars for putting me here with a camera, and
without my noisy autowinder, I began to slowly click off pictures,
pacing myself so as not to run out of film.  The candlelight was more
than adequate, since I had brought fast film.

Click - Ann giving Bill a handjob.

Bill stopped her again, and she obviously thought she was going to get 
her coke because she looked relieved.  But he whispered something and 
she stood up, turned her back on him, and angrily stomped away a few 
strides.

"Come on, Annie," Bill said, teasing her.  "It's fair.  Blow for blow.  
Coke for cock.  Besides, your handjob sucks."  He laughed, obviously 
amused by his choice of words.  "I mean, it doesn't suck.  Hey, that's 
the problem!"

His glee was disgusting, but I was loving this.  

Click  - Bill standing with his dick sticking out, Ann turning to look.

"If you think I'm taking that... thing in my mouth, you're crazy."  Her 
eyes were darting between his hard dick and the coked mirror on the 
grass behind him.

Bill's face suddenly dropped into a serious expression.  "Wise up Annie.  
Nobody has the coke connections I do, and you're in need.  Besides, " he 
said, narrowing his gaze, "we're alone here.  I could lay you down and 
fuck your brains out if I wanted to.  A little head won't kill you, and 
I promise to give you the coke afterwards.  I'll leave your pussy alone."
He was stroking his cock with one hand as he spoke, keeping it hard.

Her voice was very shakey now.  "Oh, come on Bill..."

"I want to," he interrupted her.  "I want to come on.  I want to come
on you.  Now you can open those sweet lips of yours or we can wrestle
and see who is stronger.  I don't mind.  Either way, you get your coke
and I get my nut."

His look was deadly and serious.  Ann obviously knew she was cornered.  
I briefly considered stepping out of the shadows to save her - Bill was 
a hood, but I was quite a bit bigger than him.  Maybe she'd reward me 
for my gallantry.  Then I remembered all the withering looks she had
given me over the years...

Click - Ann kneels before Bill.

Click - Ann takes Bill's dick into her mouth.

Bill began to pump his skinny hips almost immediately as Ann took his 
obscene dick in and out of her little mouth.  She gave the impression of 
some experience, though not a lot.  She let him slide the bent thing in 
and out, covering her teeth with her lips, but I did not see any tongue 
action, nor did she move her head laterally at all - these would have 
been signs of a good cocksucker.  Like Linda Short.

Bill did not seem to care.  I clicked off a series of five shots showing 
Ann with varying amounts of Bill's dick in her mouth, then he grunted 
and hissed.  He obviously began to come, for Ann violently pulled his 
cock from her mouth and tried to lunge away.  Bill grabbed her hair and 
held her in place, so that his long streams of sperm landed on her face, 
hair, and sweater.

After he had finished coming - which was a subject of two particularly 
good photos in my series; Ann with come flying toward her face, Ann with 
come hanging off her chin - he chuckled and ler her go.  She grabbed 
her purse, and stepped off into the bushes, spitting and dabbing her 
face with a kleenex.

While she was gone, Bill began to chop up the coke with the razor blade 
and draw it into a line.  He added a second line, and then a third.  
When she returned, he smiled and handed the mirror to her with one hand 
and offered his straw with the other.

"Here you go, Annie.  Nice job - I gave you some extra lines, you're 
such a good little cocksucker."

She glared at him, refusing his straw.  She had her own - a sign of a 
true cokehead - and she turned her back on him, sat down, and did the 
lines.

Click - Ann snorts cocaine while Bill stands behind, shrinking, wet 
        dick in his hand.

Click - Ann smiles at the mirror, Bill milks his dick behind her head.

Click - Ann snorts another line while Bill drips his last dribbles of 
        sperm on her hair, she oblivious through her haze of coke.

The deal done, Ann was in a real hurry to get out of there.  She was 
probably afraid that he'd try to rape her anyway, but Bill was obviously 
spent to the point of disinterest.  He had retrieved a beer from his 
shoulder bag and was taking long pulls at it while he played with 
himself.  He paid her no attention as she gathered up her stuff.

I suddenly realized that I was standing on the path she was about to
take back.  I crouched down quickly in the darkness - she passed by
within two feet of me without noticeing.  Her perfume was almost strong
enough to cover the smell of Bill's crotch, though not quite.  The
whole scene had given me a raging boner and it was a little
uncomfortable squatting in my tight jeans.  As soon as she was out of
sight, I rushed back to my car and headed home.


[Chapter 2 - Seeing What Develops]

No darkroom at home, and the school closed until monday, I put my
precious roll of black and white film in a safe place and tried to make
the time pass quickly.  I'd taken the photos on friday night, and
saturday I had a date with Theresa Mills.  I thought about cancelling
it, since my mind was filled with distractions, but then I remembered
how nice a distraction Theresa could be, and I took her to the Lake.

Theresa was catholic, so her limits were pretty firm, but she had nice
tits and let me fondle and suck them while she jacked me off.  All I
could think of as she stroked my cock was Bill Arnold's dong in Ann
Macafee's hand, and later in her mouth.  I'd asked Theresa for a
blowjob before and been turned down, but I asked again.  Her refusal,
the sweet lie that it was ("I'd love to suck this nice dick for you,
but it's just too big for my little mouth"), was all the more
frustrating.  I wanted to imagine it was Ann sucking me.  Oh well.  I
told her I was going to come and she increased her tempo and brought a
wad of kleenex to the tip to catch the flow.  Such a well-prepared
girl.

I rubbed her tits and french kissed her, two things she never seemed to 
get enough of, and she jacked me off again about a hour later.  It was a 
nice date, but it did little to relieve my delicious tension.  All I 
wanted to do was develop that roll of film.

Sunday crawled by, and I hardly slept that night.  I went in to school
as early as I could, waited for the darkroom to open, and cut my
morning classes.  I was aware that my haste could ruin this priceless
piece of film, so I deliberately made myself slow down.  I went into
the blackout booth and loaded the reel with the film.  Twice my fingers
slipped - loading a reel by hand is no easy trick under the best of
circumstances - but I finally got the strip into the can and delevoped
it with painstaking attention to time and temperature.

The negatives were perfect.  They were so crisp, so defined.  I could 
not believe my luck.  I was aware of how dangerous it was to print 
anything when at any moment an instructor or a student might glance over 
to see what I was doing, but the darkroom was pretty empty and I just 
had to make a contact sheet at least.

I let the negs dry, then cut them into strips of six.  I laid them onto 
some glossy stock and made a contact print.  I developed the thing face 
down, maddening though that was, and squeegied and dried it that way.  I 
did not look at it until I was alone in a stall in the boys room.

What a treasure.  Ann's look of concentration as she stroked that cock. 
Ann's pretty lips stretched around that thick, bent cockhead.  Ann's
averted eyes and submissive posture as the come dripped off her chin. 
I drew out my hard dick and came in four slow strokes, my come pouring
into the toilet bowl.  If only that could be my dick, I thought.  If
only he had convinced her to fuck him, or even just to strip - I'd love
to have photos of those tits and that pussy...

In the calmness that follows a good orgasm, I reflected that I could get 
in real trouble if anyone saw these photos.  Of course, there was no way 
to link them to me unless they were found on my person, still...

Then I grinned.  I grinned probably the biggest grin of my life.  Me
get in trouble?  Not anything like the trouble Ann could get into.  I
had her.  Boy, did I ever.  A vast and limitless universe of
possibility opened before me.  I had her taking coke and giving head to
a sleazebag.  "Ah, sweet mystery of life, at last I've found you," I
said quietly to myself.  Such a warm feeling to anticipate the future,
when such vistas of pleasures lie ahead.

I quickly returned to the darkroom and made a second contact sheet, 
dangerous though that was, then put the negatives and one sheet into an 
envelope and went home at lunch to hide the package inside the air vent 
grille in my room.  I did not hide the second contact sheet, though.  I 
had big plans for that one.

I wrote on the back of the sheet:

"Dear Ann.  These photos will enjoy a wide distribution to the police,
your parents, and the shool population at large unless we can reach an
agreement.  Imagine hundreds of copies of the picture with Bill
Arnold's dick in your mouth or Bill Arnold coming on your face, dist-
ributed all over campus.  Imagine pictures of you snorting coke being
sent to the cops.  Imagine a copy of this contact sheet finding its way
to your father's office, or to your home and your mother.  If you wish
to avoid all these things, meet me at the Fish and Chips shop in the
Sanderson Mall today after school.  We can discuss my terms.  Don't
worry, I can be reasonable, but don't imagine I am bluffing.  I have 
nothing to lose by publishing these as 8 x 10 glossies."

I folded the sheet into four and put it in an envelope marked "Open in 
Private!".  I went back to school, cut another class, and, when I was 
sure I was not being observed, slipped the envelope into her locker 
through the vent.  At first it stuck, and I paniced a little, but a 
little back-and-forth action made it slip right through.

I waited until the next bell rang, then stood across the quad looking
through a telephoto lens at Ann's locker.  The hubub of the between-
class activity hid me perfectly, and after two minutes or so I spied
her heading toward her locker.  She looked just as she always did,
aloof and superior.  I could not believe that such a debasing scene did
nothing to change her attitude, but she clearly still held herself
"above it all."

Just for a few moments longer, Ann, I thought.

She opened her locker and the envelop fell to the ground.  I must have 
gasped a little when another girl picked it up, looked at it, and handed 
it to her.  She said something, probably intended to be witty, but Ann 
frosted her with a snooty look and the girl walked away.  Ann read the 
envelope, closed her locker, and walked over to sit on the planter that 
surrounded the flagpole.  Checking to see that no one was near, she 
opened the envelope and unfolded the sheet.  

She must have opened it to the photo side first, because her face went 
white, her eyes grew large as saucers, and she clasped the sheet 
immediately to her chest to hide the side where the photos where. She 
looked around again, frantic, then noticed the writing on the reverse 
side.  She stuffed the sheet back into the envelope without reading it, 
then ran off to the girls room, looking a little ill.

I chuckled to myself.  Ann looked about as un-superior as a person 
could, stumbling frantically off to the bathroom clutching sex photos of 
herself.  I knew she was going there to read the note, to scan the 
photos again in disbelief.  I knew she was scared and suffering, and in 
the darkest reaches of my heart I felt great.  She was, I guess, a 
symbol for all the elite people of the world, to me.  She was the 
embodiment of all the things a normal person never gets to have.

Well, this time it was going to be different.  Very, very different.


[Chapter 3 - Modus Vivendi]

I sat down in a back booth and ordered a bowl of red chowder.  I was a 
bit nervous - confrontation has never been my strong suit - but 
something about the quality of this event had brought out my ruthless 
side.  Under normal circumstances I would have been tongue tied around a 
girl like her.  Now I was in charge, and there was nothing that could 
change that.

She entered the shop about 5 minutes after the final bell would have
rung - I had cut all my afternoon classes too.  I was amused to think
that she must have hurried indeed to get here so soon after school had
let out.

She looked around the shop, but most of the tables were empty.  It was 
primarily a lunch and dinner place, and I knew it would be pretty empty 
for at least two hours.

She finally spotted me, and I held my camera up and winked.  I could not 
tell if she recognized me, but I doubt it.  She'd done such a good job 
of ignoring me, I doubted she was even sure that I went to her school.  
She strode up purposefully and sat down angrily in my booth, facing me.

"Are you the guy who left those pictures?" Her voice was a furious
whipser, but there was a lot of fear there.  The anger was clearly
intended to give her courage and perhaps bully me into giving in.  No
chance...

I smiled.  "Photography is my life, 'Annie.'  Of course, I don't usually 
take those kinds of pictures..."

"Sure!" she spat.  "I'll bet you creep all night long spying on people 
like that, you pervert!"

"I'm a pervert?  Maybe you better look at those snapshots again."

"Oh, fuck off!"  Her voice was a high, nervous squeak.

"Take care, now, Annie.  You don't want to get on my bad side, now DO 
YOU?"  I pointed my finger at her and stared her down.

She looked at me with a stunned horror.  Our voices were low, but I
imagine no one (except maybe Bill Arnold) had ever talked to her in
such a tone, especially no one from the great unwashed masses, like me.  
She was beginning to realize that I had her and I knew it.

She looked down at her expensive leather shoes.  "Um, no.  I guess I
don't.  OK, OK, I'm sorry."  She was silent for a moment.  "What is this
all about?"

"That's better.  Now, I have the negatives to those photos and I can
make all the prints I want.  What can you offer me to make it worth my
while not to do that? I mean, imagine how fun it would be to see a
fucking little princess like you get dragged through the shit." She
looked up at this, her eyes sad and shocked, but her face as lovely as
always.  "If I'm going to deny myself that pleasure, I have to have
something to replace it."

"What kind of something?"  Her voice was a whisper, her eyes locked onto 
mine.

"A better something.  Something very, very pleasant.  Something like you 
gave Bill Arnold."

She bit her lip and shook her head.

"Something even better, perhaps."  I smiled the smile of the cat who ate 
the canary.

She closed her eyes for a moment, then suddenly opened them and smiled.  
The smile was the sort of familar, cosy smile she usually reserved for 
her fellow elite, and she beamed it at me with all the energy she could 
muster.  "Oh, come on, be a sweetheart.  You saw what that slime made me 
do.  Haven't I been through enough?  Besides, you look like a nice guy - 
you don't want it like that, you know, forcing me to, do you?"

She batted her eyes and tilted her head.  A curl of honey brown hair 
drifted over one eye and her face assumed a look that was at once 
innocent, friendly, sexy, and strong.  Looking back, it is of course 
obvious that she was trying to manipulate me through those same charms 
that had kept her on top of the pyramid for four years.  But at the time 
I was only 16, and very suceptible.

She saw the hesistation in my face, and tried to press the advantage.

"There's no reason we can't be friends, is there?  I mean, do a girl  
one little favor.... uh..... um....."

Her smile faded a bit, and I realized that she was trying to remember
my name.  We'd been in school together since the second grade, had even
been lab partners, and she had never taken even enough interest to
remember my name.  The spell broke.

"Forget it, Annie," my voice was strong and I could see that she knew I 
was not going to play.  "No, this is going to be business."  Her 
espression fell into one of complete despair.

I recognized the look - it was very much like the one she had given Bill 
Arnold when he threatened to rape her if she did not come across with a 
blowjob - but there was a difference.  Though she was defeated, she was 
not disgusted, or at least not as disgusted as she had been then.  

I spread my hands out on the table and sat back in my seat.  "Now," 
began, businesslike and firm, "you're a rich kid.  Your parents probably 
own a summerhouse or some rental properties or something, right?"

"What?"  She was visibly shaken.  Shocked at her failure to charm me,
she was beginning to see the reality of the situation.

"There must be some place where you can go when you want to party - a 
boathouse or a cabin or something..."

"No, I..."

"Don't lie to me, Annie.  That would be a truly major mistake."

She was quiet for a moment, and a tear leaked out of her left eye and 
ran down her face.  "Uh, well... our carriage hou... our garage... is 
seperate from the house and has a... a furnished attic."

"Where the chauffeur lives?"

"We're not that rich.  It's for that, though, I guess.  There's a 
kitchen and a little living room..."  She paused for a moment, then 
looked at her shoes again.  "And a bed... room."

"Perfect.  You have a key?"

"No, but I know where it is.  My dad used to use the rooms as a den, 
kind of, but my mom thought he was taking girls there and she put the 
key away in her jewelry box."

"Good.  Get it tonight and make two copies tomorrow at lunch.  Meet me 
here after school and give me one of them.  I'll give you further 
instructions then."

She looked devastated.  "You want a _key_of_your_own_!?  How long is this 
supposed to go on?"  Her voice was choked.

I smiled and looked her straight in the eye.  "As long as I say, Annie.  
Now be a good girl and do what I said.  Or else."

She muttered a very childlike, pouty "OK" then got up and practically
ran away, her arms crossed over her chest as she ran...

I sat there for minutes afterward, basking in glorious delight and hard
as a post in anticipation.


[Chapter 4 - Afternoon delight]

I arrived at the Garage apartment at 4:00, expecting to find her there.  
I checked to make sure I was not seen, then entered through the side 
door and up the plain wood staircase to the rooms above.  The same key 
that had opened the side door opened the door to the main room, and the 
musty smell of the place told me how long it had been unused.  But it 
was basically clean.

Ann was not there.  At lunch I had told her to be there by 3:45 and to 
wait for me.  She had seemed totally cowed and I was disturbed to find 
that she had disobeyed.  Had she decided not to show?  I could make good 
on the threats, of course, but the truth was that though she may have 
believed me, I looked forward to having her as my playmate far more than 
the prospect of ruining her by distributing the photos.  I was not even 
sure I would actually do it.  She was so pretty, so doll-like and cute, 
I'm not sure I could bring myself to shit on her like that, bitch though 
she certainly was.

But the point was rendered moot when she appeared in the doorway.

"You're late," I said.

"Sorry, I'm really sorry.  My mom saw me coming up the walk and wanted 
to talk to me about some stuff.  Then I had to wait until I could sneak 
away..."

"Fine, fine," I interrupted her.  She was really apologizing to me!  
This was delightful - she was actually accepting the idea that I was in 
charge here, and she had a responsibility to obey me.  She must really 
be afraid of those pictures, I thought.

"Now, to the matter at hand," I said, closing and locking the door 
behind us.  "Stand there in the middle of the room and take off all your 
clothes."

She bit her lip and winced a little, but moved to the center of the
living room and began to strip.  First came the shoes and stockings - I
was suprised to see she did not wear pantyhone, but old fashioned
stockings and lacy garters.  Rich girls, I guessed.  Next she took off
her sweater and blouse, then stepped out of her skirt.  She did this
all very slowly, obviously trying to keep the ultimate moment away, but
I did not mind.  It made her look so gracefull and lithe, and I wanted
to bask in the moment anyway.  Finally, she stood there in her lacy
white bra and plain cotton panties, the latter with little pink bows at
the sides that matched the pink ribbon in her hair.  She stood for a
moment, her hands trying to cover herself without appearing to do so,
and seemed to be unable to continue.

"Everything Annie.  Take it all off now."  My voice was even and calm, 
but definite.

"One favor, please?"  She was actually begging, something I imagine 
she'd never done before.

"Maybe."

"Don't call me Annie.  That's what that slime Bill Arnold called me.  
Call me Ann."

"We'll see.  If you do a good job and you earn it - but for now you're 
Annie.  Now get naked."

She held her breath for a second, then let it out and undid the front 
clasp on her bra, sweeping it away with one hand and laying it on the 
little sofa with the rest of her clothes.  I cannot tell you how I felt, 
seeing those breasts that I had fantasized about for so long.  They were 
so perfect, so round and high, and with large nipples that looked so 
completetly suckable.  I nearly came just looking at them.  When she 
bent over to remove her panties, they hung taut below her, then did not 
sag one iota when she stood again, panties in hand.

And then she was naked before me.  Her pussy hair was a neat, perfectly
trimmed little triangle of light brown - even more lovely and delicate
than I had expected.  She had an ideal figure, her smooth tummy and
slim waist, her flawless creamy skin, her dancers legs.  Nude, she was
still a perfect doll, an ideal girl.

She was shaking a bit, but I could tell that she was resigned to this.  
"All right," I said, "Now undress me."

She stepped immediately forward and began to unbutton my shirt.  "No," I 
said, "on your knees, Annie."  She dropped to her knees, and had to 
reach up straining to take off my shirt.  Then off came my shoes and 
socks, again piled neatly next to hers on the sofa, then she undid my 
pants and stuggled to get them off (levis are hand to remove from a 
standing person), but finally succeeded.  All through this her face was 
calm and businesslike, but her breathing was becoming rapid, and there 
was a flush creeping over her chest and upper arms.

Finally she took off my briefs.  My dick, hard and straight as a post, 
sprang out and hit her on the cheek, and she stared at it as she lowered 
the underwear to my feet and I stepped out of them.  My dick is a bit on 
the large side, especially compared to Bill Arnold's, being very close 
to nine inches long (and I was so hot that day I would not be suprised 
if it were ten) and very thick.  I am uncircumsized, though that was 
hard to see with the foreskin retracted so completely.  I could not 
remember ever feeling so hard in my life.  My dick stuck straight out in 
front of me, like a baseball bat at the ready.

"Jesus, you're huge..." she whispered, and I could see fear in her eyes.

I just smiled and dropped to my knees, my dick bopping her right breast
on the way down, then brushed her hair away from her face and placed my
hands on her wonderful breasts.  She hissed in her breath a little as I
massaged her nipples, then I released them.  "Go get the sofa pillows,
Annie.  On your knees."

She walked on her knees the two steps to the sofa, and pulled the 
pillows off.  I had her place them on the floor, then I laid back and 
got comfortable.  She knelt motionless at my feet.

"Lay beside me, and let me feel those titties," I said, "and you can get 
the feel of my cock while I do.

She walked on her knees to my side, then laid down on her side next to 
me, while I was on my back.  This gave me access to her left breast 
only, so I made her turn slightly to expose them both.

As we lay there on the old green carpet, I squeezed and stroked those
magnificent breasts, thumbing the nipples and pinching them lightly
until they were fully erect.  She took my cock in her left hand and
began to stroke it, her fingers not quite touching her thumb as she
grasped it with her small hand.  Her touch was warm and exciting, but
she did not really know how to give a proper handjob, and I had no
desire to teach her.  I pushed her onto her back and began to suck her
nipples, first one, then the other, while my hand slipped between her
thighs.  She gasped as my fingers probed her pussy, but she was very
wet, and her clit was engorged.

I stroked and sucked her for perhaps five minutes, revelling in her 
body, then sat back on the pillows and guided her face to my cock.

"Now, let's see if you really are a `good little cocksucker' Annie," I 
said, still tweaking her nipples.

She flashed me a look, but then opened her mouth and took the head of
my cock between her lips.  She began sliding it in and out, perhaps two
inches of length total, covering her teeth with her lips.  It felt very
nice, but it was not a good blowjob.

I pushed her face off my dick.  "No, that won't do,' I said.  "You've
got lousy technique.  You're too mechanical.  You've got to make love to
my cock, really go at it."

"Look," she began, "I'm taking this thing in my mouth, so don't..."

"Shut up!" I snapped, and she fell silent.  "It's not `this thing,' it
is MY cock.  This kind of blowjob I can get from my hand.  Now, cover
your upper teeth with your lips, your lower teeth with your tongue, and
let that tongue swirl the underside of my cock as you suck.  And let my
dick get plenty wet.  Use some suction, and move your head from side to
side as you go, with some passion.  Now and then take it out and lick
it.  And I expect you to suck me a lot deeper."

"Deeper?  How can I?  My mouth was full as it was.  You're too big."

"I guess you'll have to work something out.  Oh, and use your hands to 
jack the shaft and fondle my balls while you suck."  I leveled my gaze 
at her, "Now.  Get back to work."

She took my cock in her mouth again, and this time was much better.  I
could feel her tongue playing along my glans and she applied a good
amount of suction as her head bobbed up and down.  She still was
takeing only two or perhaps three inches, but the feeling was wet, warm. 
and wonderful.

I put her left hand on my dick and her right on my balls, and she drew 
her knees up to support herself.  Her left hand began to jack my shaft, 
with just the same rhythm as her mouth sucked me.  With her right hand 
she stroked my hairy balls; a ticklish feeling, but it always adds 
something to the experience.  All in all, a good start.

After a few minutes of this I felt her saliva running down my shaft and
onto my balls, and her mouth was getting smoother and looser.  I put my
hand on the back of her head, my palm covering the pink ribbon she had
there, and pushed her down farther, so she was talking half my length
with each downstroke.  This increased her suction as she tried to take
more and more of me into her mouth.

I could tell she was getting turned on - she increased her tempo and 
began taking me deeper and deeper without my urging, and soon I felt 
that I was very close to coming. 

She pulled my dick from her mouth and licked it, eyes closed and an
expression on her face that was almost loving.  She flicked her tongue
delicately over the glans, to which I said "Oh, yeah," and then she
took my cock back into her mouth and began to suck it hard, deeper and
deeper.  She was emitting a little whimper in the back of her throat,
and her nipples, brushing my thighs, were hand as raisins.

"I'm.....gonna come.....so get ready.....to swallow....." I said
between strokes.  I felt her begin to humm some kind of protest (a
princess doesn't usually swallow come, I guess), but the vibrations
only made the sensation of her sucking more exquisite, and I exploded
into her mouth.


[Chapter 5 - Consummation of the Deal]

I held her head in place as I came.  At the first mightly spurt, I felt 
the head of my cock slip into her throat.

She swallowed hard once, twice, a third time, then pressed her face
hard into my groin.  She made a sound like a quivvery whine, and I
thought she was choking, but I looked down and saw her hips churning. 
She was coming! She pulled my dick halfway out and began bobbing her
head again, wildly.  The come was still pouring out of me, and I felt
deliriously blissfull.  Her orgasm lasted almost a full minute, her
knees and thighs clamped tightly together, her ass bucking and
churning, and though my cock had gone soft she kept it in her mouth
until she was done.  She had come without touching herself, just by
sucking me off.

She let my cock slide from he mouth and rested her head on my thigh,
the rest of her body collapsed between my legs.  After a moment, I said
"Did you like that?" She did not answer, did not look at me.  "You came
too.  You must have liked it."

She turned away and hugged her knees, her back to me, and still did not 
say anything for several minutes.  Then finally she said "I've never, 
um, done that before" in a soft, high voice.

"You forget I have pictures of you doing it to Bill Arnold," I said, 
standing.

"No, I mean...." she turned her head and looked up at me, "I never 
swallowed... it.  I thought..."  She drifted off.

"I felt my cock go into your throat when I came.  I think that's what 
you felt.  And my come going down your throat."  Talking like this was 
making my cock stir again.  Good, I thought, soon we go on to the next 
step.

"Yes," she said.  After a moment she added "Your thing is so much bigger 
than Randy's - my boyfriend's - or Bill's.  It was.... different."

"You liked it, Annie."

"Ann."

"Yes.  You did a good job, so it's Ann.  I can see this is going to be
a nice afternoon." I smiled at her reaction, which was mild shock.

"You mean we're not done?"

"Done?"  I laughed.  "We're about as far from done as you can imagine.  
And this is just today.  I like this, Ann.  I like this a lot.  And in a 
way, I think you do to."

She would not answer, but instead rose and went to the sink, to get a 
drink of water.  After she finished her drink she turned to look at me.  
Standing there at the sink, bathed in the sunlight coming through the 
tattered curtains, she was lovier than ever.  I could see the moisture 
still glistening on her chin and the insides of her thighs.  "I'm doing 
this because I have to.  Don't get the idea that I want this."

"I really don't care.  You're been getting your way all your life.  Now
it's your turn to do what someone else wants, " I replied, and she
turned angrily away.  "Besides, you didn't `have to' come like a damned
flood.  Maybe you don't like me, but you like this," I said, lifting my
half-hard cock into my palm.

She turned back to face me, and stared at my cock, her lips parting 
involuntarily and the tip of her tongue just touching her upper lip.
She turned away and was silent.

I came up behind her and wrapped my arms around her from behind, my 
hands cupping her breasts, my cock sliding across her ass.  She wriggled 
a bit, trying to get free, but I held her tight, feeling her nipples and 
noticing how erect they were.  Although she was certainly trying not to, 
her hips were rotating ever so slightly, and I could feel her heart 
pounding through her breasts.

I bent down and whispered in her ear, "You want in Ann, don't you?  You 
want my cock..."

"No...no..." her voice weak and uncertain.

"Yes you do, I can feel your nipples, your heartbeat.  I'll bet your 
pussy is getting wet."  I reached down with my right hand, and she tried 
to fend me off, but it was obviously a half-hearted attempt.  My hand 
stole between her legs, and I felt them part slightly.  Her pussy lips 
were puffy and her hole was soaking wet.

"Unnnnnnngh," she murmured, and her head twisted from side to side.

"Tell me you want it, Ann.  Tell me you want me to fuck you."  I was 
really enjoying this, though from time to time it seemed rather like a 
dream, and I was afraid I might wake up.

"No...let me go..." she whispered, but her legs parted farther, and I 
felt her reach around to touch my cock with her fingertips.  When she 
found it, she emitted a little gasp and wrapped her hand around it, 
jarking the shaft slowly.

"Tell me.  Tell me you want me to fuck you."

"Ummmm.  Yes, OK, I want it."  Her voice cracked, and she began 
breathing very hard.

"Want what?"

"Want your... cock."

"Want it where?  Want me to do what with my cock?"  I began to stroke 
her clit against her pubic bone, and her hips bucked.

"Ohhhhhhhhh.  Oh, fuck me with your cock, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me..."
She turned and wrapped her arms around my neck, and I felt her tongue
probe my ear.

I picked her up in my arms and carried her to the small bedroom, which 
was right off the living room.  I laid her down on the bare mattress, 
her ass just on the edge, and spread her legs wide.  Her pussy, such a 
small, cute little rosebud, stretched and parted, the lips glistening in 
the afternoon light.  I rubbed the tip of my cock against those lips and 
up onto her clit and she went wild, her shoulders and head thrashing 
back and forth, her back arching.

I gently pushed her tummy back down onto the bed, placed one hand on a
tit and held my cock with the other, and slid into her.  She was
incredibly tight, and I could only get about half of my cock in her at
first, though she was very wet.  Even so, her eyes popped open and her
mouth formed an "o" of suprise.

"Slow, slow, oh god, take it slow...."  She was pushing at my chest with 
her hands, trying to get me to back out.

"What's wrong, Ann.  You're not a virgin are you?"  I was teasing her, 
but I also wanted to know.

"No," she said, talking between her panting breaths, "but I only did it 
once, a long time ago, and I'm not use to this."

"Randy?"  I asked, and gave her two short strokes.

"Ahhhhhhhhng,  um, no, it was back in junior high.  You don't..... 
ummmmmm.... know him."

"Gotta know, Ann.  Who got your cherry?"  I stroked her again, each time 
going fractionally deeper, and for several moments she did not reply, 
her eyes closed, her teeth chewing her lower lip.

"Uh, Stuart Dawes.  Jesus, oh, ummmmmmmmmmm.  But his dick was ha-half
the size of yours, and...  ohhhhhhhhhhh....  it lasted about 20
seconds..."

I laughed a little, which made her look at my face.  Stuart Dawes had 
been an aquaintance of mine in junior high, though I guess he had moved 
away since I had not seen him in high school.  He had claimed to have 
fucked Ann Macafee after the CIF basketball finals, but no one had 
believed him.

Thanks for priming her, Stuart, I thought, and began to fuck her in 
earnest.

All protest from her ended as her pussy spread itself wide for me.  She
was holding onto her knees, spreading them as far as she could, and in
ten smooth strokes I was buried in her cunt up to my balls.  This was
te best fuck of my life - she was so tight, so smooth, the internal
contours of her pussy forming a perfect sheath for my hard dick, and we
pumped like a german machine.

She began to come, her orgasm reaching an intensity that was almost 
scary.  Her face and breasts went bright pink, her face grimaced, and 
her hands gripped her knees so hard that the knuckles went white.  I was 
loving the feeling, but since I had just come I had no problem holding 
back, maintaining myself on that delicious plateau a man reaches just 
before his orgasm begins.  As her orgasm peaked, she began to talk 
again, breathy, in a high, childish voice:

"Owwwwwwww, yeah, yeah, ummmmmmmmmmm, fuck it, fuck it, god, I love it, 
ooooooooooo... do me, do me, god, your dick..."

Fianlly she subsided, her hips lowering back onto the mattress, her 
hands relaxing and letting her knees slip away.  She smiled the smile of 
the satisfied and wrapped her legs around my back, linking her ankles.

"You close?" she said, her eyes twinkling.

"Um, yeah.  Pretty close."  I was damn close, in fact.

"Come in my mouth again."

I was a little suprised at that, and my face must have shown it.

"I'm not on the pill," she explained, then after a moment added, "and 
yeah, I liked the feeling of your come in my throat."

That did it.  She was begging to drink my come.  I could hold back no 
further, and I pulled out and slid my groin up her chest, over her tits, 
and let her take me deeply into her throat.  In three hard sucks I was 
coming, the feel of her firm tits against my ass accentuating the 
experience.  I must have come more the second time than the first, 
because quite a bit leaked out the corners of her mouth.

After I pulled out, she scooped up the come from her cheeks and sucked 
it off her fingers.  Her espression was one of wild lust combined with 
serene satisfaction.  We laid on the bed together for at least an hour, 
dozing in each other's arms.  Finally, I glanced at my watch and saw 
that it was nearly 6:00.  I had to get home.

She got up when I did, and we stepped into the living room and dressed 
in silence.  Once we were dressed, I gently took her by the shoulders 
and sat her on the couch, then sat next to her.

"Well now," I said, "that was a very nice beginning, don't you think?"

She nodded, her face very thoughtful as she stared at the window.

"I think we could use some sheets on that bed, since I noticed you got
mattress-button marks on your back, and maybe next time we should bring 
some refreshments.  Think you can handle that, Ann?"

She was quiet for several moments, clearly thinking things out, then 
stood and began to pace around the room as she spoke.

"OK, look, I'm going to be honest here.  I could try and tell you I 
hated this, but it would be a lie.  I liked it."

"You loved it," I corrected her.

"Yes, alright, I loved it.  And I want it to continue.  But we have to 
have some ground rules."  She looked at me to gauge my reaction, but I 
held my face passive.  "OK, first, nobody finds out.  Nobody at school 
knows anything different is happening between you and me.  Second, I 
do you, but not your friends - you can't even tell them.  Third, you 
bring rubbers so I don't get pregnant.  Fourth, We don't do anything 
strange.  You know, like tieing up or whipping or anything like that."

"What makes you think you're in a position to make conditions?" I asked
calmly.

"Come on.  You've been playing this tough-guy thing all afternoon, but
you'd much rather go on fucking me than show those photos.  We can reach
an agreement here, can't we?"

"Perhaps.  I'll address your points one by one.  First, I don't have any 
intention of telling anyone anything - but one thing has to change."

"Which is?"

"Which is that you have to stop treating me like a fucking piece of 
furniture at school.  When I say 'hi', you say 'hi' back, you know, just 
like I was a person."

She sniffed derisively, but did not argue.

"Second, my friends can find their own pussy.  Third, rubbers will not 
be acceptable for either of us, believe me, so you go on the pill or 
continue to take me in your mouth.  Lastly, 'strange' is in the eye of 
the beholder, but I'm not a kinky person.  You will continue to do what 
I say, however."

"Pulling out and coming in my mouth is not foolproof."

"Then get the pill."

"OK.  But I don't take it... in the ass."

"We'll see.  What about Randy?"

"He's a hood ornament.  I don't need him."

"What about Bill Arnold?"

She looked at me, and for a moment I pitied her.  "He's my only coke 
connection.  What can I do?"

"You're off coke, that's what.  Look what it made you do...  Besides, 
I'm gonna be taking up your free time with other pursuits."

She stood at the sink again, the light coming through the curtains now 
coming from a floodlight outside, and I flashed back to when she was 
standing there naked, my come on her chin and her come on her thighs.  
Incredibly, I began to get hard again.  Ah, 16.

"Okay," she finally said.  "It's a deal."

She turned back to face me, and saw that I had drawn my cock from my
pants and watched it standing erect.  A clear lust appreared in her 
eyes.

"God, again?" she said, and smiled slightly despite herself.

"You have a noticeable effect on me when you stand at that window.  
Let's see how your cocksucking technique is coming along."

One of the highlights of my life was when Ann Macafee, queen goddess of
the school, unparalleled beauty, without hesitation and with the ease
and obediance that comes from repeating a familiar duty, gracefully
knelt down before me to take my cock into her pretty mouth.  


                       <to be continued...>
