The spring concert was scheduled to start at 7 at the high school auditorium. Allison had texted him saying she had to be there at 6:30 to line up. Christopher had responded by telling him to meet her outside the high school behind the auditorium at 6, saying he had a special gift for her that he wanted her to wear during the concert.
Alison opened the unmarked steel door, letting herself out into the cool night air. The auditorium was hot already and only going to get hotter, and the change of temperature was refreshing. Closing it carefully behind her, glancing to make sure no one was paying attention, she stood in the dusk light, the distant lamp lights starting to turn on. Alison was dressed in a white dress, contrasting with her dark skin and hair, of modest length and fit, just the sort of plain thing expected of a good high school girl. She wondered what Christopher had for her ... she knew it would be something deviant ... he wasn't the type to bring her a rose or a bracelet or something. She found her heart racing already at the surprise.
Christopher had been leaning against the car door waiting for Allison to appear. He laughed quietly to himself after he felt that familiar rush of anticipation in his veins. The effect Allison had on him was nearly indescribable. To this point he had stayed away from the school, but now that he was here in the parking lot it brought a combination of nostalgia with a perverse excitement. When he was with Alison she always had a maturity about her that belied her age. Her body definitely looked her age. He saw the heavy door open and Alison appear, looking stunning in a simple white dress - virgin white, he thought, ironically. He saw her looking around the parking lot. "Alison," he said quietly.
Alison turned her head at the sound of his voice, her eyes finally finding him. Stepping carefully away from the door, she glanced around one more time for onlookers before hurrying over to him, her shoes tapping against the pavement. This felt surreal, the collision of her two worlds she usually kept so far apart. When she was in his shop she no longer felt like a schoolgirl. Here, rushing to this older man's car she couldn't feel like anything else. "Hey."
"Kiss me on the cheek like an uncle," he said, putting his hands lightly on her hips. He loved her hips, the way they looked and felt under his hands as she rode him, or as he thrust into her hard from behind. He made sure she was close enough to feel his already semi-erect cock through the pants of his lightweight spring suit. "You look lovely Alison," he said when he felt her cheek against hers. "Get in the car."
She leaned up on her tip toes and brushed her lips on his cheek, taking in his whispered words. Despite not knowing what was running through his mind, hers was thinking of nearly the same things at the touch of his hands on her. They had never touched anywhere but in the private of the shop and since that first day there had never been any pretense to it. Now he touched her casually yet all she could think of was this way his strong hands would direct her in his shop, into his fetish wear, into his bindings, or him into her. She pulled herself away from him quickly, unsure how much she could control herself under his touch and did what he said, sliding silently into his passenger seat.
He smiled at her sitting next to him in the front seat. "You're wet already, aren't you Alison. I can tell just by your eyes, did you know that? And I know that when you reach your between your legs right now and pull your panties aside and put your finger there and bring it up to show me, it will be wet, won't it." He put his hand on her bare tan thigh. Her skin was flawless, her eyes dark and intense -stunning without an ounce of makeup on.
Inside the car, despite how potentially exposed they were, it felt private once again, his proximity whisking her away to that dark hole she entered on that first day in his shop. At the first touch of his hand on her thigh, insistent and strong, her legs spread, her dress riding up further. Anyone looking would be shocked to see this young girl and this man like this, but Allison only added to the sight, slipping her hand immediately between her legs and tugging at the band of her panties, tugging it to the side to expose her dark bush.
Her core was wet, indeed. "Yes, Christopher," she said, and she plunged a finger eagerly inside herself as she said it, as if the words themselves gave her pleasure. She closed her eyes and fingered herself once, twice, three times, hard and deep before pulling her finger out with a gasp and showing it to him, her chest heaving.
"Give me a taste and then clean the rest off yourself," he said. Her enthusiasm and her inhibition mixed with the sight and scent of her pussy juice on her finger brought his cock to a throbbing erection. "Good girl Alison," he said. This was a first, sitting here in his car. That it was right in the parking lot of the elite private high school made it that much more intoxicating. Out of the corner of his eye he could see cars driving in, hear the sounds of doors opening and closing and quiet chatter. "Give it to me," he said, his hand squeezing her thigh.
Alison thrust her hand forward with a moan, clearly aroused, rubbing her fingertip against his lips while staring into his eyes. It was as if after weeks of letting this man do as he pleased with her, they had brought it to another level. Even these simple things which would be only a prelude at the shop were immeasurably kinkier here in her school parking lot, nearly in public. She thrust the finger into her mouth and sucked eagerly at it, her breath coming quickly through her nose as she thought what her peers, the parents, the staff would think of this.
He wasn't exactly sure why, whether it was her diet, her age, her genes, her athletic conditioning, or some random combination of them all, but she simply had the sweetest tasting pussy he had ever tasted in his life. He thought at times it actually had a fruited scent to it. He had always enjoyed giving oral sex before, and knew he was good at it, but Alison's taste was so addictive that in his shop one afternoon when she had left school early, he kept her tied up in various positions for nearly two hours, during which time he licked her pussy incessantly. She had cum ten times at least before he had stopped counting. She seemed to love the taste of herself as well, and he loved watching her do it. "I have a gift for you," he said, and reached behind her seat and lifted a small gift bag.
Allison remembered the first time he had her taste her own juices, how devious and disgusting it had seemed. That seemed a dim memory, hard to imagine and believe. She now knew the taste of her own pussy on her fingers, his fingers, on his cock, on his toys. Once he had smeared her face with it until she could smell nothing else. Today she sucked the juice from her finger and dropped her hands in her lap, watching him with the mixture of trepidation and excitement she felt every time they were together, never knowing what knew thing he was going to do to her. "What is it?" she asked, reaching to take it from him.
