Total Woman Vignettes 09

Prologue

Kelly explained: "Daddy always lets the random roster select his tutoring sessions. My roommate is a Computer major. We hacked the roster program, overrode the safeties and switched assignments. She got her daddy and I got mine. You should have seen his face when he found me waiting topless in his private TWA suite.

"But he chalked it up to a fateful computer glitch and did his professional duty. I thought after a couple orgasms, he would rest or sleep for a while. But he was really excited and couldn't get enough of me; we fucked all night. He patiently taught me that vaginal clenching trick. I picked it up pretty quick and he said I was a natural at it. 'Good genes' he boasted."

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Later, at Kelly's family estate, Syd turned to Roger to broach a delicate subject.

"Kelly has a cute little cunt clenching move. She calls it 'Daddy's little trick'. Did she get that from you?"

Roger choked on a bit of food, avoiding the look from his wide eyed wife who uttered her shock.

"Daddy's little trick! More like 'Mommy's little trick'. How did you show her that?"

Roger was speechless, a sort of admission that something wrong had transpired. They never discussed the details of his pledge contributor weekends at TWA. Syd decided to rescue his client's husband.

"In all fairness, it wasn't Roger's fault. Kelly and her hacker roommate jiggered the random roster for a hook up with their fathers. He just remained dedicated to the proscribed schedule, figuring TWA knew what they were doing. It would have happened anyway but later on at the Father-Daughter Weekend near the end of Kelly's senior year."

Connie ruffled at Roger's and Syd's seeming dismissal of the potential consequences. She glared at the defensive men...

Syd felt obliged to reassure her with his rationalization.

"Frankly, Kelly is more advanced than most sophomores, so I really can't see any permanent harm. Besides, she is very good at 'Daddy's little trick'. I taught her how to combine it with the 'rodeo' positions for a more awesome experience. I'm sure Roger will like the combination next time he gets her."

"Next time! NEXT TIME!"

Connie drew Roger's ear in for a whispered scolding. Roger continued to deny sole culpability. Before Kelly's younger sister entered TWA next year, Connie wanted her husband's promise to behave and adhere to the TWA safeguards, regardless of 'computer glitches'. There was fine pussy galore at his pledge contributor weekends; he could avoid the forbidden family fruit while injecting the other coeds with his pearls of wisdom. The parents agreed to consult with TWA on the implications of Roger's faux pas when Kelly returned to campus next week. They reached a tentative truce...

A little later, Roger was thinking of the inevitable day when Kelly's younger sister might be passed to him by the TWA random roster... Maybe Roger could bribe Kelly into speeding up the event with another 'computer glitch'. Maybe he could bribe her with a few more 'schedule conflicts' requiring Syd to 'look after her' again. Maybe...

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Present Day

By now, Roger assumed Kelly and Syd had landed in the Caribbean, taking advantage of his corporate jet's privacy and flight time to renew their special intimate acquaintance. Kelly had demanded a two for one trade. She would jigger the random roster for the TWA Pledge Contributor Weekend just once for her father in exchange for two long weekends with Syd at a venue of her choosing. Her first tryst would be this sunshine soaked rendezvous; her second choice to be designated later.

Roger agreed and prayed his wife Connie, a TWA Board member, would never find out. She would have been apocalyptically opposed to Roger's plot. But he couldn't help himself. After his impetuous dalliance with Kelly, his oldest daughter, he was literally incensed with the idea of repeating the mischief with Julie, his younger daughter, now a sophomore coed at TWA. Kelly promised that the arrangements were set but he couldn't be 100% sure.

Arriving Friday evening at the Weekend's welcoming gala, Roger was met and escorted to the registration desk by a chicly dressed freshman hostess. He signed the customary forms and waivers, pledging to abide by all safety protocols and adhere strictly to the weekend random roster assignments. He was given the pseudonym of Guest Coach Tutor B, or Mr. B, the gentlemen guests' real names undisclosed to the TWA students.

His little hostess led him into the party. The rule about freshmen always being topless had been lifted for this evening but the little cutie in the cocktail dress still gave Roger a warm rush. Pledge Contributor Weekend encounters were reserved for upper level coeds.

'Too bad' his switching dick inferred as he followed her perk swishing hair and ass. Roger hoped that she would still be here during one of his future visits. Better yet, he hoped she showed up on his random roster.

The dim lit soiree was buzzing with get-to-know-you banter. The guest coach tutors were chatting with their initial matchups. Eight assignees, each with a choker dangling a letter charm around her neck, wore sexy evening wear, vying to make a good first impression. Roger's perky little usher snaked him through the small crowd. They approached a sexy blonde coed on the far side of the room who was exhibiting a lot of skin and the Letter B on her white satin choker.

Seeing Mr. B coming her way, his kick-off date for the weekend smiled a sign of recognition. Roger stumbled a step at his own recognition of her and then pressed onward, determined to act in accordance with the agreements he had just signed.

"Good evening, Rosalie."

"Good evening, Mr. B" she snickered.

His freshman attendant wished them a good night and departed, leaving the new couple to themselves.

His assigned scholarly maiden was well known to him. His wife's brother was also a Pledge Contributor and enrolled his daughters here as well. Roger's date for the night was his niece. And the TWA curriculum had done well by her. The teenage tomboy he remembered from family outings had grown up, becoming a refined young lady. Gone were the booty peeking cutoff jeans and crop top tee shirts; they had been replaced by this man-baiting party attire.

Roger took his niece's hand in a dancer's hold. He leaned in to peck her cheek and his nostrils filled with her heavenly scent. He whispered a confession in her ear.

"I've been watching you for years, dreaming of the things I would do to you if I ever got the chance."

Rosalie purred her shared desires. "Me, too, Uncle Rog..., I mean, Mr. B."

Roger leaned back and surveyed his niece. She copped a shy smile under his gaze. One knee was bent forward; the dress hem high on her thigh. She held a knuckle between her teeth, attempting to still her look of coy fascination.

"And now here you are" he marveled.

"Yes" she giggled endearingly. "All of me."

Roger lifted her arm and guided her in a slow pirouette to see what 'all of me' entailed. She pivoted gracefully in her heels, letting her uncle view her maturing body encased in the form fitted lame dress. Her platinum blond hair covered most of her bare upper back but not where the very low cut gown flashed a hint of ass crack at the top of her compact derriere. There were no bra or panty lines, the slim sheath comprising her sole covering.

She ended her presentation turn full frontal. The dress was scooped low across her bosom, openly displaying her eye catching loose cleavage. Her blue eyes peeked seductively through her longish straight cut bangs. Her tanned body, staged beautifully in the glamourous makeup and clothes, made Roger's heart skip a beat.

There was no particular schedule for the Friday evening meet and greet. Whenever the mood struck them, the couples wandered off to their first tutoring sessions. Roger's pulsing penis decided the timing was right... as in, right now.

"Take me to your lair, my dear enchantress."

Rosalie knew just the lair she wanted and led Mr. B towards Coach Tutoring Suite No. 2. They gamboled along the hallways, his mind swimming in a stupor of incestuous lust. Past images cluttered his thoughts.

He remembered catching Rosalie with Kelly skinny dipping at the estate, their wet boobs bouncing freely as they ran to get their towels. He remembered her spandex clad ass jogging ahead of him during family fun runs.

He especially remembered her athletic body, tanned and toned, crouching and stretching, chasing lobs on the tennis court in her sprightly play suit.

He paused their suite-bound journey twice, smooching her giggling lips, pressed her back to the wall with his groin. His roving hands petted and squeezed her thinly covered tits and ass. The pliant handfuls of her luscious curves felt even better than he dreamed they would. His electrified longing grew by the second. She facilitated his fondles, keen for Mr. B to caress her body as much as he wanted. She hoped he wanted much more of this, just as she did.

They finally found their playroom lair and scurried inside, slamming the auto-locking door.

Roger shed his own clothes first, too heated for any more foreplay. She watched and waited, unsure of what Mr. B wanted her to do. He did what he knew she wanted him to do, stripping Rosalie of her dress. His hallway fondles had already ascertained it was her sole bit of clothing.

Cupping her ass cheeks, he lifted her nakedness against his chest and plopped onto the bed on top of her, sinking his cock into the cunt of his dreams. The long awaited sensation was everything he dreamed of and he regrettably discharged his pent-up masculinity swiftly into her welcoming femininity. But the release relieved his fever, allowing him the self-control he wanted to engage his niece in more relaxed and mutually satisfying love-making during the rest of the night.

Rosalie indulged more of Roger's postponed familial fantasies. They petted and fucked; then petted and sucked, then petted and fucked some more. They were insatiable. By morning, his balls were dehydrated. On the contrary, her stomach and womb were swamped with swallowed and snatched ejaculate. The exhausted niece and uncle neglected their breakfast so that Rosalie had time to preen Mr. B in the suite's bathroom before his mid-morning reassignment.

Deeming him clean and fresh for renewed action, Rosalie helped her uncle, nominally Mr. B, into the standard day uniform for guest coach tutors: a thigh length terry cloth waist wrap. It was exceedingly comfortable; his cock and balls hung loose and free or could swell and tighten without constriction. The overlap fold allowed easy access for manual foreplay. The Velcro closures were perfectly suited for hurried removal.

It was a sweet and sorrowful family farewell as Mr. B departed, leaving Rosalie to straighten up the disheveled space for its subsequent users. She righted the toppled furniture, found her discarded dress under the bed and one high heel hiding under the dresser. The other heel turned up at the foot of the mattress, beneath the crumpled sheets and covers, when she changed the bedding. With Suite No. 2 again rumpus-room ready, she went to her dorm room for some welcome post-coitus bathing, douching and sleep.

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Roger strolled along the pool deck; the late afternoon sun warming his bare torso. He was refracting after tutoring his second assignment, a petite little Asian girl. He had taken it easy on her, respecting their difference in genital size. He had been kindhearted with his penetrations. The gentle intercourse was gratifying to them both.

He was also wary of overexerting himself. The weekend was young but he was not and he was slated for two more assignments. 'Conserve your energy, old boy' he silently advised himself.

His tired genitals felt the cooling breeze circulate up under his loose waist wrap. He passed the umbrella tables, each labelled with a letter, G through A. He worked his way up the alphabet, checking out the other couples along his leisurely circuit to Table B.

At Table E, a lovely rounded lass was waiting patiently for her tardy Coach Tutor to arrive. She waved as Roger passed, being friendly to any passerby as she filled in the time.

"Oh, hi there, Mr. D. Remember me from last year? Oh, sorry, it's Mr. B this time. Anyway, it's nice to see you again. I hope you're enjoying your visit."

Roger waved back and assured her that he was happy. He recognized the brunette coed by her outsize breasts and large smooth nipples. If anything, her boobs looked larger. Then he realized her waist was trimmer now and that the exercise induced body shaping had enhanced her buxom figure.

He recalled kissing and tonguing her tits as she squirmed naked in his lap, her big soft pussy lips caressing the exposed underside of his trapped dick. He had ejaculated prematurely without penetration. She continued the dick massage, her undulating vaginal lips glazing their groins with the smeared male and female fluids.

All the while, his suckling of her sensitive nips had generated a corresponding orgasm for her. They had explored that phenomena together, finding that pinching and twisting were equally effective orgasm inducers for her. He had vigorously manhandled your boobs, one paw kneading a big mammary while he licked and playfully bit the other areola. She came several times during the experiment.

Smiling at the pleasant reminiscence, he moved on, finding another past weekend memory emerging from the pool at Table C. Roger recalled her special hand-jobs. The drenched blonde paused to say 'Hello', dripping pool water from her nipples. Her greeting was accompanied by a soul melting hug and kiss, crushing her wet tits firmly into Roger's chest. Her current guest coach tutor watched from his perch at the nearby table. Her sneaky fondle of Roger's cock beneath his terry cloth kilt either went unseen or unheeded. She sashayed off as Mr. B smacked her ass cheek in mock rebuke.

Roger found Table B to be unoccupied. He took his seat. It was uncharacteristic of a coed to be late for a scheduled roster slot. He spied his little freshman usher from last night, topless now as prescribed by the re-instated freshman rules, quick stepping across the deck in heels and thong. She halted her nipple jiggling trot at his side and caught her breath.

"Sorry, I'm late, Mr. B, sir. I was supposed to be waiting for you. No excuses."

Roger was confused. Had Kelly screwed up the computer glitch? Was this coed his third assignment? She was certainly attractive and his cock agreed. It thickened and the swollen knob emerged through the flap in its cover. But his initial delight at the thought of playing with her delectable ass gave way to the realization that it couldn't be. First year coeds were not allowed to be tutored during these visitor weekends. Even Kelly wouldn't let that happen.

The girl noted the pink cock head peeking from its cover and lamented her freshman status. Next year, hopefully, she would have a seat at the table, assuming her grades were good enough. But this year, she was just an attending hostess. She handed Roger a cardstock envelop.

"It's a message for you, Mr. B"

Roger opened and read the message; it was one sentence. 'Go to Coach Tutoring Suite No. 6 for your next assignment.'

Wanting to linger a little longer with his precious little hostess, he asked her to guide him to Suite 6. She was happy to oblige and he followed her perky ass rocking along to the designated room. Roger prayed again that she would be put on his roster during one of his future visits.

At the suite door, she wished him luck, stood on tiptoes to peck his cheek and scampered off. He watched her tight little ass bounce away. 'Yeah, maybe next year' he mused.

Alone with his thoughts now, Roger stood before the portal, wondering what lay beyond the closed entry. He slid his key card, opened the door and walked through to his proximate destiny.

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After the bright sunlight, his vision was blurred by the comparably darkened room. Slowly, he saw features solidify in his vision. The motif was Victorian drawing room: dark stained wood walls, heavy red velvet drapes, large overstuffed brocaded furniture and a four poster bed to one side. Situated on the central Turkish carpet was a grand wooden armchair.

A woman's figure occupied the throne-like seat. As his eyesight finally cleared, the butterflies in his stomach turned to bees droning lower in his core. Kelly had kept her promise. Her younger sister, Julie, was trussed in the bondage scenario, awaiting her guest coach tutor. Roger couldn't have imagined a nobler scene. Julie's presentation was spectacular.

First, the smooth black velvet corset, its shelf forming open bodice bolstering her creamy full boobs. Her brunette hair was fashionably coiffed atop her head. The blindfold's thin fastenings crossed above her ears but below the gathered bun. Between blindfold and corset shelves, fiery red gloss called attention to her plush lips and prominent nipples, offering them up as his erogenous playthings.

Her shoulders were square, forced erect by the handcuffs holding her wrists at low back. Elastic clasps clipped the thigh high dark nylons to the corset. Her locked on black stilettos, accessorized by ankle leash rings, were fastened by short silver chains to the chair legs. Twin lifelike didoes hung loose on pegs underneath the wooden seat. Julie had escaped been seated impaled on the dual faux cocks. This night was meant for erotic games, not sexual chastisement.

Roger circled his captive roster assignment. She sensed his nearby presence. Not fully acclimated to being used as a submissive sex object, Julie let her trepidation leak out.

"Hello? Who's there?"

Roger stopped his pacing but didn't respond; his voice would be a giveaway to his identity. The only sound in the room besides their joint excited breathing was the ripping of the Velcro as he jettisoned his single piece of clothing. He took his station in front of her and examined the dramatic wooden contraption she was mounted on.

The throne arms were lower than expected, topped by attached vinyl cushions indented by knee marks near the center. The back was higher than the seated female's head and the corner posts adorned with carved male erections. Roger realized the proportions were ideal for a man to kneel on the arms and grip the penile handholds, placing his groin level with the bound female's face.

Accepting the inventor's clever invitation, Roger mounted the arms and, suitably posed on his knees, carefully moved his spongy knob to just touch and then withdraw from Julie's ruby painted lips. Holding very still, even holding his breath, he watched and waited for her response.

Julie felt the tentative contact. The man seemed hesitant, making her curious about his intentions. Did he like her this way or not? Was the pause his signal that he was letting her choose the next step?

She swiped her tongue seductively, wetting her lips to add to their attraction, recollecting the act as part of her detailed lessons delivered by the staff coach tutors. She fell into her expected role, leaning forward to make soft contact, kissing the gentleman's penile tip, then retreating upright, using her body language to signal her assent to further probes. She assumed the 'willing female' facial pose, hoping he would now allow her to demonstrate her oral talents.

Roger watched Julie blindly invite his looming entry. She had relaxed her jaw and face, her mouth slightly open, a hint of pearly teeth, seemingly eager to keep going but letting him decide if he wanted to further sample her oral caresses. His cock moved forward and poked her red glossed orifice again; he absolutely wanted to continue.

She puckered her lips, slacked her jaw a little more and vacuumed gently to draw him in. Roger cooperated, letting her take the length she wanted, watching his shaft inch past the cherry gloss into her talented grotto.