(A Sequel to Megan's Summer Education)
By DL Sloan
CHAPTER 9: PUBLIC SERVANTS
Megan walked up the sidewalk to Mr. Granderson's house, thinking about how to greet him. According to Mick and Harry, Kasey's dad didn't know Megan was coming over. While Mick and Harry had stayed at Quigley's story to select April's appropriate school attire, Darrell had come back on his way to delivering a pizza and dropped Megan off at Granderson's house. It was a short trip, but just long enough for Megan to give Darrell a blowjob in gratitude for being such an awesome dude. He was a nice man, strong but gentle, firm but fun. Of course, she generally found firm to be fun. Firm and rough were a blast with a man who knew how not to go too far but who was also not just strong, but creative as well. That was Darrell. He might be delivering pizzas now, but he was rightfully proud of his work and she could see a brighter future lay ahead of him.
Darrell politely waited until she reached the front step, then drove away slowly as she gave him a final smile and wave. Megan was wearing the 4-inch red heels with the strap over the toes that was part of her uniform at QT's. She also wore the red g-string and cherry red lipstick. Her hair was in a ponytail and her CALL Girl collar had been replaced by a red leather leash from the store with the words "YES DADDY" written in silver around the collar. The pasties were gone and she wore instead a tiny white tank top that stopped at her nipples, revealing under-boob below. The low cut neck line was slit between her breasts, exposing ample cleavage with just two inches of the cloth remaining connected between her tits to keep the top from falling off. It would take very little effort to finish ripping it off. She hoped Mr. G would do just that.
But first she had to think of a fun way to let him know what was going on. Not that it would be hard for him to figure out. Still, it was a nice gesture by the guys to send her to him and she wanted to let him know that she was extremely excited to be and do whatever he wanted her to. She knew Kasey had given herself thoroughly to her dad -- after a bit of coaxing -- and could tell that both of them were enjoying it very much. She hoped to have a similar experience with Mr. G, though she knew he would require little coaxing. He knew the school and had partaken of some of its perks, but his experience had been limited compared to some of the others because of Kasey's presence. So, tonight was all about him. She was completely at his disposal -- every inch of her body was being presented for his use and pleasure. She didn't feel worried or nervous. She simply felt honored.
She rang the doorbell, then got down on her knees, placing the leash between her teeth. She sat up straight, back arched slightly, breasts presented proudly, face up, eyes wide. Her hands were behind her back, giving him full view as she positioned herself in the bright circle of light created by the porch lamp.
The door opened moments later and Mr. G looked down, his eyes nearly as wide as hers. "What the... oh my," he smiled. "I didn't know you were coming. To what do I owe the pleasure?"
Megan wanted to respond, but the leash was clutched tightly in her mouth. She tilted her head up to him and grunted, inviting him to take the leash, which he did. He looked to the road and both sides of the house, curious if anyone was seeing this. It was late, but not that late. Still, the residential street was quiet. He kind of wished it wasn't.
Rather than answer his question about why she was here, Megan simply recited her oath, her eyes looking up at him, holding his gaze as she spoke every word with complete sincerity.
"I pledge submission to the cock and balls
Of the man who stands before me.
And to the sperm, for which they hold,
One load underway, unstoppable,
With cum and orgasms for all."
"That's quite a commitment," Granderson said. "I believe you, but the proof, as they say, is in the pudding."
"Don't I look like good enough to eat?" she pouted.
"That you do," he nodded. "But you're the one who looks hungry. Did you build up a good appetite at work?"
"I sure did!" Megan beamed. "May I have the pleasure of sucking your cock and swallowing your cum, sir?"
"Has any man ever said no to that question?" he chuckled. She expected him to pull her inside or at least to one of the porch chairs, but instead he stayed right where he was and unzipped his pants. He looked up at the porch light and smile and she realized why he hadn't moved. He wanted her to be visible -- he could watch her this way and, well, if anyone happened to walk by, they might just catch enough of a glimpse to figure out what was happening too. They would see him standing there, her kneeling before him, her nearly bare ass on display, her head bobbing back and forth. Yes, it would be pretty obvious to most anyone who saw them. Well, if that's what he wanted, she hoped there was a parade of jealous people cheering them on.
She pulled his semi-erect penis out of his pants and looked up at him with questioning eyes, as if to say, "How do you want it, sir?"
He read her expression and said, "Take your time. I assume we have all night?"
"Yes, sir, we sure do," she smiled.
"Then kiss it, lick it, worship it," he said.
"I do worship it, sir," she said. "I'm such a lucky girl. I'm not worthy of this beautiful cock. Thank you so much, sir."
She kissed the head, her eyes looking up at him. This was no longer a thought in her head. She locked eyes on him instinctively. It was all muscle memory now, like her tennis serve. Opening her mouth to take a cock automatically made her eyes look up. Eye contact was second only to the contact of her lips on his penis. He kept her in the light so he could see her eyes, her lips, her tongue. Men were so visually stimulated, she knew, and she was learning how to play to that. Every move she made, everything she did to present her body and her desire was important to increasing his enjoyment of this moment.
She flicked her tongue across the head of his cock, then underneath before finally swirling her tongue around it like a lollipop. He was very hard now and she wondered when his last orgasm was. He hadn't had the benefit of her company for a while and she was certain he wasn't dating anyone, but how often he jacked off she didn't know. The thought of this wonderful man having to stroke this big beautiful cock himself made her sad. He deserved to have a hungry little slut like her serving his needs daily.
She pushed his cock up against his belly and, starting at his balls, licked her way slowly, methodically around each ball, then between them and tantalizingly slowly up the underside of his long, thick shaft while her nimble fingers stroked the head of his penis, her fingernails scraping gently across it. He was so hard, his cock thick and full. He hadn't been serviced in a while, she was certain of it. He needed to cum so badly, yet he wanted her to take her time. Guys her age would have shot their wad already. This, however, was a real man. He was patient and cherished the moment. He was in control not only of himself, but of her as well. She readily submitted to him, feeling honored to be here in this moment.
She kept her hand play to a minimum, knowing that the lips and tongue were the key tools. Sometimes time men dictated no hands, but that was when it came time for full-on face-fucking or deep-throating. This was teasing time, building him up. He would dictate if and when he wanted to take over. For now, his cock and balls were her toys to play with. She loved teasing him like this. His face was stoic, but his cock gave her all the approval she needed. It was so rigid. She could feel his pulse when she touched the shaft. His cock kept jerking, excited by the touch of her fingers, the flick of her tongue, her lips pressed against his balls. It had to be excruciating for him -- the fine line between ecstasy and torment. It was his line to draw and hers to walk.
He touched the side of her face and she read his cue to start sucking. She took him in her mouth, her tongue eagerly working on his head and sliding along the underside of his shaft. She readied to take him all the way, but he pulled gently on her ponytail. "Not yet," he said softly. "Just work the head and a couple inches."
She winked at him, signaling her understanding and complete compliance. She moved her head back and forth a little bit, but primarily continued her teasing work. One hand gently stroked his balls while the other gripped the base of his cock. She continued to lick and kiss from the tip of his cock down to about an inch past the head. She worked him like a lollipop, her eyes watching him intently, watching for any cues as to what she should stop doing or keep doing. Suddenly, he grabbed her ponytail and drew his cock from her mouth.
"Stay down for a minute," he said under his breath. He took the leash and put it between her body and his. "Neighbors are coming, walking their dog. They usually wave and say hello but keep going. They can only see that you're kneeling down. Just play along. Stay in front of my cock. Play along."
"Yes, sir," she whispered, nodding her head.
Granderson pulled his keys out of his pocket and dropped them down into her hands. She didn't get it, but she held onto them. She trusted him, though she was uncomfortable knowing that her essentially bare ass was pointing straight out to the road, illuminated by the porch light. Not to mention that she was kneeling in front of him in a very suspicious position. Surely they would know what was happening. Granted, she would lay down and let him pound her in front of the whole neighborhood if that's what he wanted, but she still hadn't gotten past the anxiety that came with being exposed in public. The store didn't really count because that was expected by the store customers. But this was the true public, wide open, on display. She didn't think she would ever be able to embrace the humiliation and anxiety, but what she understood was that her fear of failing to properly submit to and serve her man exceeded her fear of exposure and humiliation. She would stay put and play along, not because she was comfortable doing so, but because it was what he had instructed. The beauty of submitting was that decision-making was eliminated -- it simply required trust and obedience.
She heard the dog now and the shuffle of feet on the sidewalk. They were getting close. She trembled, not scared, but extremely nervous. "Trust him," she reminded herself. "Play along."
"Hello neighbors," Granderson called out, waving his hand in the air. "Nice night for a walk."
