#rubber search results

You finally had your chance. The cool girls had invited you to their house party this weekend, but you had to bring booze. Normally this wouldn't be a problem, you weren't 21 yet so you'd just have your brother buy it. Problem was he was out of town with some friends for the next week and so you asked around to see if anyone had a hookup.

You heard of this guy named Jones that was willing to make a deal. A few of the girls said that he would deliver the goods, but they got a little red in the face and changed the subject when you asked for specifics. They just said that if you had cash, everything would be fine. If you didn't have cash, well, you'd still get your booze, but the price would be higher. They gave you a phone number to text and told you to ask for the 'student discount.'

You agonized over it and finally, late at night, you texted the number. You got a response a few minutes later. It gave an address a few blocks away from your high school and said that there would be a blue car with tinted windows parked on the street at that address. Get in the backseat, have your order written down on a piece of paper. Cost to be discussed at that time.

You felt butterflies in your stomach. You felt the thrill of adrenaline. You were doing something incredibly risky and crazy, but it was your ticket to the in-crowd and you couldn't let it pass by. Your senior year of high school was going to be special and awesome and this was the key.

You went to that address the next day after school and there was the blue car. Your heart started racing. You walked up and after a brief hesitation opened the door and got in the backseat. The driver was non-descript and from what you could see in the rearview mirror, looked a bit bored. Like an Uber driver or something. Would this really be this easy? Uber Booze?

He looked back at you, making eye contact through the mirror. "Have your list?" he asked.

You nodded and handed it to him between the seats. He took it and gave it a quick look, nodding. He started the car and pulled out into the street. He drove for several miles, not making any conversation, the radio on a top 40 channel, playing at low volume. Eventually he pulled into an almost-deserted parking lot and you could see the liquor store. It was an iffy part of town, but no one else was around. He rifled around in the center console, grabbing something, got out of the car, and hopped into the backseat.

"Now, about my payment, honey. Do you have the cash to cover this much booze? This is probably going to be about $200 for your list." He set a condom down on the seat between you.

You nodded. Your parents gave you a credit card instead of a cash allowance, which you handed over to him.

Seeing the credit card he began shaking his head. "Sorry, cash only. I can't sign on a girl's credit card. Do you have cash on hand?" You shook your head.

"Well, can't be helped." He started unzipping his pants and you felt the first few moments of panic as his cock popped out. This was what all the other girls had gotten embarrassed about.

"Normally, girls have the cash, they do me a little favor and take a ride with this condom and Mr. Meat right here, they get their booze and everyone is happy." He started stroking his cock as he explained this. "Not having cash isn't a problem, so long as you're willing to do a little extra..." He took the condom and tossed it out of reach in the front seat. "Spread those pretty legs all the same and you'll get all the liquor on your list, you'll just get a little something extra, that's all. If you want out, say the word, if you want your alcohol, just lay back and let Mr. Jones get to work."

You weighed your options, sighed, and spread your legs, showing your pretty pink panties to Mr. Jones. He smiled at your acquiescence and shifted over to get into position. He pulled your underwear to one side, bunching it up on one side of your crotch, exposing the hole you'd shaved fresh for this weekend, maybe for some hot guy that would notice you now that you were cool, not for some older guy just to get booze. He lined up his pole, shiny and slimy, and pushed it into you. The precum helped lube it up as he steadily pushed in all the way. It was a bit uncomfortable for you as he bottomed out.

He stayed bottomed out for a few seconds and then he slid back out and began fucking you for real. The other boys you fooled around with would usually squeeze your tits or awkwardly try to kiss you or otherwise paw at you before they fumbled on the condom for the awkward fuck. Jones had eyes for nothing else besides the sweet spot between your legs. Like a fleshy engine, he piston-ed in and out of your hole. The car, rocking back and forth, began to smell like sweat and musky crotch.

You felt like a slut, there in the back seat of some guy's car, impaled on some guy's cock, your legs up in the air, spread wide apart, and that thought pushed you over the edge. His cock had been giving you tingles already, but you felt his cock starting to swell and twitch and you knew what that meant, he was going to cum in you, he was going to squirt his sperm into your pussy and you were a slut for wanting it and loving it. The electricity hit you as you started to moan and sigh, you heard the fart noise of his cum filling you and pushing the air out, but you didn't care as you were out of your head with pleasure.

When you finally came down, you were by yourself in the backseat, sweaty, mussed, and spread open for anyone who peeked in the window to see. You pulled your underwear back to cover your pussy, but the unmistakable earthy smell of sperm filled the car, and your crotch and thighs were a sticky mess of his cum and your juices. A few minutes later, he came back with several boxes of booze, drove you back to school and that was the last you saw of him.

The party was a smashing success, cementing your status as an up-and-comer with the cool girls. You'd even bagged the cute guy you'd had your eye on from chemistry class. You made sure you had condoms in your purse. It wasn't as good with a rubber, but it was good enough and he didn't complain. All in all, you felt it was a good experience and worth the risk.

Then, a few weeks later, you missed your period...

“I swear you are such a girl. If i don’t spend time sweeping you off your feet in romance…” She made a clucking sound and shook her head in annoyance. “Alex, don’t be such a sissy.” she declared.



He squirmed and moved to adjust his trousers. “Im fine. We probably need to look at the menu.”



She studied him for a long moment. Her eyes moving over his body and down to his crotch. “Does that…” Her eyes widened, “ Does that get you excited?” fascination crept into her words.



He turned away from her gaze and reached for the plate of raspberries to obscure her view. As he took two pieces of fruit, she said “My God. It does get you hard. It totally turns you on.” Her eyes lit up like a flash just erupted in her head.



“What does?” he needed time to think.



Jennifer speared a bit of raspberry on the point of her fork and ate it with small delicate bites. “When I am a Bitch to you. It stirs your little cock to life.”



He looked down at himself. There was no hiding the bulge in his pants and so he shrugged. “It could be anything. It doesn't matter.” It was true, he thought. it didn’t matter to him why he felt an erection build when she humiliated him or talked dirty to him or... She turned him on, she always had. She was the key that unlocked his secret desires.



When the second round of champagne was served, Jennifer questioned him ”Did you feel emasculated when I ordered drinks for both of us in front of the waiter? Was that why? Or was it something else? Was it being called a Sissy? hmm?” she seemed more interested than aroused.



He deflected and parried all her verbal jabs. His stomach felt as if it were full of butterflies. Something was off. It was as if his adversary had decoded his messages and tactically slipped behind his defenses. Had all his precautions been undone by his impatience of a single night that he didn’t slip into the closet to change. Had the cleaning lady found something? She knew now - he was sure of it, and she delighted in wielding her new found power.



A line appeared on Jennifer’s pale white brow between those lovely eyes, “I understand now why you are such a pansy about such things.”



“Your strength brings out the best in me. It’s almost dangerous.” He had thought that might reassure her, but he saw no sign of pleasure in those green eyes.



“Ma’am,” the waiter had decided to try his luck once more.



“I think we should just skip to dessert. What is fresh for today.” Jennifer kept her eyes locked on Alex. She is working something out, he thought, planning.



“I hope you like tarts. All our tarts are made fresh with fruit from a local farm.” answered the waiter.



She looked hard at Alex. “It seems I love all sorts of Tarts.” the scorn rumbled in her tone.



“Excellent I shall bring two.”



“I’ve known that a long while.” she said just above a whisper.



“I’m sorry?” Alex was not sure he heard her correctly.



Jennifer ignored the question and leaned forward, her voice barely audible above the ambient noise. “Do you know why I'm so dangerous?”



“Are we playing riddles now?”



“It’s because I don’t have a cock.”



“Why?”



“And.. well neither do you...sometimes. I’ve learned..” her face, a shadowed smirk.



“And don’t you just hate that Jennifer.” he snapped reflexively and instantly knew his statement was an admission of sorts.



“I’m not sure I do.” the words slow and strategic. She thought for a moment and shrugged, “Perhaps you are dangerous too. That makes you less a fool than every other man because that thing between your legs doesn’t do all your thinking.” Her face curled into a dark smile.



Alex licked the champagne from his lips. He did not like her smile; it meant power not joy. “Yes, and now my thing is thinking it's time I went to the bathroom.”.



“Are you feeling uncomfortable Darling?” She leaned forward giving him a good look at the top of her breasts. Her mouth six inches from him, “Don’t you worry Sissy boy, I’ve a rubber cock at home that’s big enough for the both of us.”



Jennifer beckoned to the waiter for two more flutes. She was drinking more than normal but it only seemed to make her more beautiful. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes had a bright feverish look to them as she looked upon him.



Eyes of fire, Alex thought. Music played, people chattered, while servers chased around to tables. He laughed but it was a joyless laugh. But the type of laughter that can turn into tears in a heartbeat.



Alex glanced at the hallway in the direction of the bathroom, he was beginning to regret the hold she had on him. “I will be back.”



“Try to conceal your hard-on as you walk.”



“You’ve never shown so much interest in my manhood before dear,” He stood.



Jennifer reached for his arm and looked up to him as he was about to pass, “It's not your cock that interests me so much tonight - it’s what you are carrying it in.”



--



The knock at the bathroom door unnerved and annoyed him. He ignored it and took his time to dry his hands before unlocking and opening the door. There stood Jennifer, arms crossed and leaning close against the door jam.



“When I knock, you open. No hesitation. No more privacy. Understood?” The question was rhetorical, her voice stone.



Jennifer pushed in and locked the door behind her.



“I’m sorry” was the first thing that came to mind and it felt right to him. It shouldn’t, he knew, but for him - for who he was and for what he wanted her to be, it was the most perfect thing in the world to say.



“Too late for that my little Tart.” She kissed him hard pushing him against the wall and without a word, her hand dove deep into his trousers. Her lips released his and found his neck, “My my.” She began to rub his pubic bone with her fingers, “All I feel is the silk of some pretty panties.” Her voice was raspy and breathless.



He tried to pull away. He was not ready to face this.



Her teeth bit into his neck, rough and animalistic, her shoulders pressed hard into him, his skin tingled against the cool tile. “If I were blindfolded, I’d swear I was feeling up a girl,“ Her fingers groped and rubbed in hard circles. ”You are lucky, I know you have a cock in there...somewhere, or I’d have no choice but to be finger fucking you right now.”



He twisted his head both from the pain of her teeth on his neck and his uncomfortable arousal. He was embarrassed that her harsh words and forceful hands sent shivers of erotic desire through his body, and then at the horrifying realization that his hips were undulating against the pressure of her fingers.



“Stop. Please” his voice a gasp. He didn’t want her to see him like this.



She smiled at him like a lioness pounced above her prey,.“You like that don’t you my sweet little bitch,” she looked down at his uncontrollable thrusting. “You don’t want me to stop. You can’t help yourself. Can you?”



She looked down at where his shirt had worked its way up one side of his torso. The exposed skin unmarked and bare, soft there, in the shallow valley between his hip bone and the swell of his belly. “Just panties today Darling? Oooh Soooo conservative.”



He forced himself to stop moving - to stop giving in to her game. She sensed it and pushed deeper. Jennifer’s hand reached further underneath him. “Oh there it is.” She squeezed the hard shaft until his knees buckled. “All tucked away safely.” She released his cock and slammed her hips into him.



“Jennifer please - we are at a restaurant. No.” he grasped for any reason to stop her torment.



She pushed a knee between his legs and firmly lifted it up into his groin - playful but hard. He grunted, his head lowered and Jennifer jabbed her tongue into his mouth. Her voice like velvet and her tongue tasted sweet from champagne and her breath smelled of raspberries. He took her tongue into his mouth and sucked the sweetness.



Her head tilted and her motion stopped as if an idea sprouted and took hold. “THIS is what you want.” Her hand slid past his cock and her finger slid into the underside of his underwear and entered him. It was hard, unforgiving and deep.



He sucked in his breath and grasped for the wall to keep his balance. “Ohh. Oh God. Stop. Oh God.” Those first two or three sharp, impossible thrusts when he was sure she was going to rip his ass to shreds and then, as if his body decided to save him, it moistened itself, opened and she penetrated him again and again .



“Don’t be stupid. You like it.”



He turned his head and looked at the chrome polish of the faucets, like curved, silvery phallics, floating on the surface of the slate grey marble and accepted the intensity of her deed. It hurt but in a way that he never wanted it to stop.



She felt him arch his hips in that way that made it just so much sweeter, so much easier to fill him, and felt his inner muscles close around her. She added another finger.



The thrusts became punctuated with questions he so desperately wanted to hear.



“And this…and this…and this…?”



Until the fury of it made him gasp. “Yes.”



Her skin. Hers, no matter what he said, no matter how he felt. Her skin and she would push inside it and own it. She would teach him that it belonged to her; that his mouth and his eyes and his tears and his voice and his hands and his ass and his cock and every fucking breath he took was hers.



His hips grinded into her hand like a piston, “Harder. Can you do me harder?”



She hissed like a steam engine and closed a hand around his neck. “Shut up, Princess,”

That was it, that last tearing away of his masculinity, serene and free of the emotional baggage he dragged around - Lowering his head, burying it in the crook of her neck, he swore. And came.



-



On the table, a single white bag rested in the center, the dutiful waiter scurried to the side of Jennifer. “I’ve wrapped your tarts Madam. And the receipt is in the bag as well.”



Jennifer gave a small incline of her head in acknowledgement and walked toward the restaurant exit. Alex followed and scooped up the bag. A murmur of the Happy Birthday song drifted from the direction of the tables and he smiled.

“And then you will accept that I am not what you… said.” I really didn’t want to hear her use that word, Sissy, again.



‘Agreed.”



Ok let's back up. Your average guy would have ended this conversation after her first question. Who’s not your average guy? B i n g o - that's my name-o. The continued sparring offered her two important evidentiary pieces. A, I was attracted to her. B, They were, in fact, mine. As the old story goes, “We’ve already established what you are, at this point, we are just haggling over the price.”



Thus the complicated arrangement; I walk into my bedroom and put on a pair of panties to prove to this cute little reporter I don’t wear panties. Go ahead, you can say it… What the fuck?



Call it a charade, call it a silly choreographed dance to get me to wear what I wanted to wear while saying I don’t want to wear them. Either way, it was a turn on.


“Fine.” I stood up and went to the bedroom, half expecting she would follow but she did not. Good sign, bad sign, who knows, I was following through to the bitter end. The panties were not folded anymore. They were spread for full frontal viewing. She was reveling in her little game.



It just occurred to me that she had already read the last chapter of our book. She knew the end before we had started. That she was walking me down this path despite every squirrel or bird or any other texture I had sprinkled into each paragraph to throw her off the scent. She read past it with a simple amused smile, knowing it was nothing more than a colorful environmental addition..



My legs had a small tremor to them and my heart beat like Thumper warning bambi of danger in the next chapter but I still managed to drop the pants and pull on the panties. I had a semi erect cock to which I blame on what I was about to do and I squared it away just slightly below. A little panty bulge if you will.



Oh, and by the way, they fit like a glove.



-



She watched me, cross the room and sit on the couch without a word. No request for a stop and spin for her, no fanfare. You know that feeling when you’ve talked to someone on the phone for a long time before meeting them in person and then boom, you meet them and they look totally different than what you imagined. She was passing through that phase right now.



“So… When did you first realize that you were a wee bit of a Sissy?” At least she had a great sense of humor.



“Ha, so you still don’t believe me? Look at these. They are way too tight.”



Lydia fished into her purse and pulled out a camera. “We just need a few centerfold shots..”



“Woah woah woah!” Shit had just gone off the rails. “No pictures!” I did some silly cover my crotch maneuver with my hand and debated scampering back to the bedroom when her smile and a wink froze me.



I'm going off the rails on a crazy train.



She leaned forward in a conspiratorial whisper, “Just play along. You can delete them at the end.”



“Centerfold shots? Wait, what magazine do you work for again?” Play along? So she was having a bit of a game? A game within a game?



“We take kinky photographs of authors in their homes. It's called Playwrite.” Adorable and funny and calming.



“Ahh Playwrite.” I went along with her creative name. I mean, I’m sitting on a couch with women’s underwear on. What else am I gonna do? “I’ve heard of it.”



“So just relax and you know, get sexy on the couch.” Click



I went prone, my head in my hand. “Oh that’s nice.” Click



“Let your head hang off the edge. Oh sexy.” Click



“Legs up over the back of the couch.” Click



She had me do a few poses, in retrospect, cleverly positioning me. My ass was now almost at the top of the couch, legs dangling over the back and my head crooked over the front edge of the couch so that I was looking at her upside down. “Why don’t you lift your legs up. Higher. Higher. Perfect. Stroke it.” Click.



“Wait, What?”



“Playwrite requires full frontal. It's in the contract you signed.” She was making this shit up as she went along and I was happy to oblige. I was having fun. But she needed to seduce me a bit more for full frontal. Click



“Did the contract stipulate how I was to… become erect?” I gave her my own seductive, come hither smile.



“Imagine what my readers will be doing when they see this spread,” She wasn’t budging on her request. “Wouldn't it be nice for them to see the author doing the same… with them so to speak.” her logic was indisputable. Beam me up!



Ahh so I do this for them...” With a campy pout, I reached up and slid my hands into the underwear and started slowly.



“Omg so hot.” Click. Ok, I know it's not that hot but whatever.



As I built up speed, my cock finally stood at full mast and slipped out of the lace. It stared down at me from up on high like a snake in the treetops.



“Can you cum like this? Our readers would be sooooo excited.”



“Uh,” That was the best I could do to form an actual coherent word. I wanted to say no. The position wasn't easy to maintain and my face was in the direct path, so to speak. She recognized the hesitation and like a good seductress, she used her body and her voice to override my objections. She kneeled right up to me, her leggings lightly brushing against my cheek and her lust driven dialog was all but but doing the actual stroking. I was surprisingly close but I wasn’t sure I wanted to be.



“Actually, screw the readers.” her voice was like gravel. “I want to see it. Don’t stop. Fuck yourself. Harder! You little cunt” Click.



That opened the floodgates.



I felt my lower belly tighten and begin to ripple. “Oh…God….” When I hit the crest, my hips shoved forward and held there – and everything disappeared. My legs shook and I felt my feet point on the edge of the couch like a ballerina. Cum rained down and sprayed my face and mouth. I closed my eyes and let my mouth sag open as my body shuddered through each aftershock. I stayed in that position, not entirely sure why, letting every drop plop down. She watched me like a ravenous tiger and her breathing sounded as if she had just finished a hundred meter dash. My tongue felt like a sticky mess.



“So tell me, Sissy. How does a mouthful of your own come make you feel?” One last interview question...



Yes, she won. She proved her theory but I wasn’t going to tell her how it felt. I was a living breathing, sticky response to that question. I tried to imagine what I must look like; legs askew, one draped over the top of the couch, my cock half in and out of a pair of panties and my face a mess.



I guess I should’ve known by the way you parked your car sideways… that it wouldn’t last.



Remember my inability to predict a woman’s reaction? Well it's still one hundred percent inaccurate.. I laid there, wincing for a hard condescending laugh from her as she turned and walked out of my life, when instead, her face came down and kissed me. Hard and wet and passionate; her tongue alternating between my covered checks and my throat.



“That was hot.” she whispered.

-



Epilogue

Day’s later, when Lydia mentioned where she graduated college, the connection dawned like neurons snapping together like rubber bands.. “My editor went there.”

Her smile was both devious and genuine. “She was the editor of the School newspaper I worked at.” she shrugged. ”I pulled a few strings.” Yeah, like a puppet master.



My editor. Fuck, she really did know.