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|Rental Agreement (RATED FOR MATURE READERS)
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|Author:||Brother Grimace [ Wed Nov 23, 2016 9:58 pm ]|
|Post subject:||Rental Agreement (RATED FOR MATURE READERS)|
This is part of a series of Dariarotica pieces that I'm working on that includes a little 'sex club' in town that includes the thirty/forty-something plus women in town, who call themselves the Lawndale MILF Society.
The first in the Behind Lawndale's Closed Doors series involves - well, why spoil the surprise? Let's just say that Helen, Amanda, Claire, Ashley-Amber and the rest will be, er, coming later on in the series.
Behind Lawndale's Closed Doors
by Brother Grimace
Quinn's eyes were especially wide. "Are you sure that Daria and Jane won't catch us here?"
"I'm sure," Sandi nodded. "We can use the connected bathroom, the room's soundproofed, and Trent mentioned that this room's for their parents... whenever they bother to show up. They always keep it locked - well, Jane does."
The other three Fashion Club girls turned to the video screen (attached to a hidden camera in Jane's bedroom) at Tiffany's prompting, and watched as Daria and Jane picked up their coats before heading to the bedroom door.
"They're leaving?" Stacy's tone warbled a touch. "But I thought that they'd be up here an hour or two, so we can see if they do anything kinky!"
"No worries." Sandi yawned. "They're away from their friends as school. They'll have plenty of time to... be alone here. I've seen how they look at each other... and this is just the first week of summer vacation."
The four teens turned to see Trent enter the room, being sure to close and lock it securely behind him.
"Janey and Daria are going to get some pizza with Tom, and then hit the mall. They'll be gone until six."
"That gives us two hours!" Stacy's voice wavered slightly more than before "We can't wait around until then and do nothing… can we?"
Tiffany walked over, and started to undo the zipper on Trent's jeans. "We... should... keep... bu-urrkkklllll-ugggguuullppp... mmmmmmmmmm..."
"Well, that's another way to keep busy," Sandi said, casually flicking one of her sandals into an empty clothes basket seated next to the closet.
"Make sure you cover your clothes up this time," Quinn said, neatly folding her pink smiley-face sweater before reaching back to unfasten her lacy, powder-blue brassiere. "Really, I can't see why you don't just swallow. The last time you spat it out, I spent an hour trying to clean the stains off my baby-T! I had to throw it out!"
"You should use white vinegar," Sandi said, her tone the Voice of God as she dropped the other sandal in the basket, and pulled at the fasteners on her slacks. "Oh, and do not use bleach. It's too corrosive - and you can't use it on colors, anyway."
"My cousin uses 20-Mule-Team Borax, Quinn!" the ever-too-chipper Stacy piped up. "She said to take a tablespoon of it with warm water to make a thin paste, put it on the stain and let it sit for a half-hour, and then use one of those soft dish sponges with the soft scraper side to gently brush the stain away!"
Sandi watched Quinn's rose-pink nipples became cute little points as Stacy puller her sweater off to reveal her soft, pert breasts, held aloft by the exact same type of brassiere that Quinn wore.
'Oh, go ahead," she said, a Daria-like smirk on her face as she watched how Stacy's excitement at Quinn's reaction was instantly noticeable. "Tiffany and I still have to pay the remainder of the rent. Just stop that all that crying after you come. It's not dignified, and it's not fashionable. Grunts and curses are understandable when you're busting a nut, ladies - weeping and farts are not."
"I think it's cute," Stacy cut in; Quinn let out a gasp as Stacy's fingers traced up from her midsection to slowly twirl like icicles around her left nipple. "Tiny, tasty little nips... like my Uncle Nik would tell my cousins, 'if it's more than a mouthful, it's a waste."
"OH-! Gawd, Stacy - did you stick your fingers in that ice water again?"
"It's not as if you don't approve," Stacy replied as she lifted her head with an audible sucking sound, a small half-crescent of ice passing between her lips before she put her mouth back to Quinn's right breast.
Quinn's instant squeal blended with the low, sustained grunting that came from Trent, who leaned back against the wall as Tiffany serviced him with a luxuriously slow, gently serpentine motion, her deep, guttural groans still audible as her lips connected with the base of Trent's hardness.
"Remember, Trent - if you can't last twenty minutes with any of us, then you have to put ten bucks in our pizza kitty," Sandi said, aping Stacy as she let her hand slip underneath Trent's T-shirt to stroke the tip of his right nipple. "Ten for each of us. Each time."
"I haven't forgotten."
To date, Trent had managed to contain himself each time Quinn and Tiffany had gone down on him - although there were two occasions where Stacy almost caught him under the wire. Thank God for The Itsy-Bitsy Spider. If I hadn't been able to imagine Mozart and Prince doing a duet of that song, I'd have blown like one of those wells down on the Gulf Coast.
The way she looks you right in the eye when she gets busy, like a cat with a mouse in its mouth... Jesus, she's going to make guys fight and kill each other someday.
"You need to be worried about me, guitar man."
Trent's eyes immediately snapped away from the image of Quinn, eyes already rolled back and seeing beyond, all but dissolving into spasms on the bed beneath Stacy (and an adept tongue that could sculpt diamonds into perfect cuts) and back to the imperious forest-green eyes that he first paid attention to a year ago, at the beginning of the summer just after Daria and Jane graduated and were getting ready for school in Boston…
No shit, be worried. They must have around four or five hundred in that jar, thanks to her. She sucks you off like she's Hendrix doing the National Anthem at Woodstock... love the vacuum trick, though.
When you get blown like that straight out of nowhere by a chick like Sandi Griffin - for a solid fucking hour and your cock barely touches room air the whole time... you take the deal.
Trent watched the eyes begin their descent below his line of vision. "Tiffany. Tag off."
|Author:||ashk09 [ Sat Dec 03, 2016 5:21 pm ]|
|Post subject:||Re: Rental Agreement (RATED FOR MATURE READERS)|
The descriptions in this are absolutely fantastic. Good job, sir!
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