Beds And Breakfast Ch 02

Dear Readers: Please read Chapter One of this series first. Many of you were inquiring as to the next chapter's status. Well, here it is!

It'll make it much easier for you when you cum along with Mandy and John's escapades.

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"Please allow me to explain some of the history of the Fort Sumter Room, Miss Sinclair," John began once the door was closed behind them, sequestering the couple in their own personal sexual fortress. He looked down at Mandy's petite frame as he virtually towered above her, and raised her arms over her head, pulling off the tight sweater and exposing her set of perfectly proportioned pert and firm tits encased in a lacy pink push-up bra. She moaned her approval.

He paused for a moment in his educational diatribe to enjoy and massage her sensational globes, kneading and pinching and teasing her nipples through the sheer material of the bra cups as Mandy whimpered slightly. John was determined to set the tone and pace for his aggressive young lover-to-be. There was absolutely no place to go, no people to see, no hurry whatsoever. They had days. He alone would establish the pace and rules for this initial physical skirmish. She was to be his willing carnal prisoner, held captive by her own free will, yet he would provide only pleasure, no punishment. But first, she had to willingly accede to his terms.

"Fort Sumter was the location where the Confederates first illustrated their desire for full secession, Mandy."

John matter-of-factly unsnapped the hook on the back of her bra as her young tits burst free in all their resplendent glory. "In this re-enactment, you will secede every one of your inhibitions and take commands from the superior officer." He peered at her as he continued to expertly rub her breasts, watching her stomach heave, hearing her breaths quicken. She reached for his cock, but he retreated by stepping back, and chastised her harshly by pinching her nipples roughly, as she squealed in mild pain.

"You are not to engage in nor initiate any independent actions, covert or otherwise. You will take your directives solely from my orders, and you will respond ONLY by saying, 'Yes, sir', 'No, sir', or 'No excuse ,sir'. Is that understood, Miss Sinclair?"

Mandy nodded bashfully, rapidly losing her aggression and succumbing to submission with each passing second. John was proving to be a more than formidable mental opponent. Most men quivered like pudding when they saw her body. But then, Mandy wasn't used to this type of older man. And she liked it. She liked it a lot, as indicated by the gushing flow within her cunt.

John slapped her tits casually and they blushed pink on her skin from the rough handling. "Was that your answer, Miss Sinclair? I didn't hear you." He pinched her nipples and rubbed them between his big fingers until they became the size of thimbles. Mandy felt her juices trickle down into the crotch of her tight thong. He spoke as he leered at her, beginning to unbuckle his belt. "Now, once again, is that understood?"

Mandy nearly curtsied in front of him as a show of respect as she whimpered softly, "Yes, sir."

John nodded smugly, becoming pleased at his subordinate. "Very good, Miss Sinclair. Now, let me explain what will occur in this room. We will consider the Fort Sumter room to be the Foreplay bedroom." Mandy looked up at him quizzically, not daring to let her eyes linger to his crotch, though it took every bit of self-control for her not to dive down and engulf his big sword in her throat. She loved to suck cock, and she already had experienced that this was QUITE the weapon. A man's cock. A true man's cock, veined, hard, Heinz-ketchup-thick, and angry when provoked.

John stepped out of his pants, pulled down his boxers, and stood before her stroking his thick meat with one hand and lowering his other hand to her tummy, tugging at the waistband of her leggings. Mandy's cunt involuntarily spurt another small stream of nectar into her thong as her legs already quivered like a hummingbird in the wind.

"Accordingly, there is no be no ultimate penetration within the confines of this particular room. Full cock-to-cunt penetration will happen subsequently, at my command. For now, we will use only our tongues, lips, mouths, hands, fingers, palms, feet, and other assorted appendages as our implements of battle. But no fucking. Not yet, Not here, much as you obviously need to be fucked." He paused, examining her reactions, trying to conceal a smirk, before resuming.

"You will commence by removing your leggings and whatever item or items may lie beneath them, and once you have done so, turn around and bare your ass to me. I want to begin a cavity search and first explore your pussy and ass. They will be mine soon enough, your body is under my capture. Understood?"

Mandy felt as though her nipples would explode from her chest, they throbbed from excitement. His touch, his words, his cock, his commands. She was his, to be taught, and led into battle unarmed.

"Our goal during your stay will be to form a more perfect union, Miss Sinclair."

Mandy didn't hesitate this time as she quickly became naked in front of him. "YES, sir!"

John stepped back once again, but this time to sincerely admire this exquisite young woman's body that was ready to acquiesce to his every order. The perfectly trimmed auburn hairs above her creamy pussy dripped and exuded an aroma that wafted through the small room, drifting off of the walls and ceiling and seemingly right to his nostrils. In response, his cock twitched incessantly now, nearly thick as a soda can. He stroked his chin as he had to compose himself to gather his own self-control. He barked his next order.

"Masturbate for me, Mandy. Finger-fuck your cunt and ass at the same time. Begin."

Mandy's hips swayed as she assaulted her two tunnels simultaneously, and John watched her various digits disappear into her holes. "Pull your cunt apart, Mandy, wide." He shook his head in animated chagrin as she separated her labia by only a few inches. He shouted, "Wider, let me see all of your cunt." Her fingers eventually spread her cunt to what felt to Mandy like a two-lane highway. John nodded his approval, aroused beyond belief but not exhibiting his satisfaction to Mandy.

"Now turn around and do the same to your ass, I want to see what you had for breakfast."

Mandy couldn't help but giggle at this image, and her laugh lightened the sexual tension in the room, but only for a brief interlude. John had to bring her back to the realization that her lapse was to be permitted only momentarily. He stripped off his own shirt and laid down on the carpet, stretched out right next to her.

Mandy continued to play vigorously with her anus and cunt, she was on the verge of an explosive orgasm, but she was curious as to his strange prone position. She soon understood when he said, "Now drop and give me fifty squats." She gazed at him wide-eyed. Did he mean push-ups?

He clarified immediately. "Right on my face. Twenty-five pussy squats, followed by twenty-five anal squats. I will tongue-fuck you while you do so, do you understand now? Begin!"

Mandy bounced like a shot, lowering her gleaming young directly onto his face. "YES, sir," she shouted as she felt his warm tongue penetrate her folds.

She repeated, moaning, writhing on his face as she maneuvered up and down, feeling his tongue tease her with each downward thrust of her taut torso, "Yes, sir!"

Her first orgasm occurred at about her twelfth squat, spurting tasty love juice onto John's face. "Did I tell you that you could cum yet?" he shouted up at her as her pussy covered his mouth again and again, muffling his words.

"NO excuse, sir," she yelled, but it was already too late, and she soon came once more, a entirely different sensation this time, coming from another region of her loins, as he snuck his talented tongue into her sphincter for the first time.

Mandy was suddenly becoming very fond of push-ups. Yes, she could quickly get used to this facial-push-up thing, she thought, her body trembling in aerobic ecstasy. This man was a five-star sexual general, she thought. Her aunts had advertised his tonguing skills accurately. And, oh, that cock of his. It looked so strong, so powerful, she HAD to have it soon. She would beg for penile mercy, if necessary.

As if sensing her distraction, John abruptly grabbed her hips and held them firmly as her cunt and ass hovered above him, inches from his face, dripping various fluids. He flipped her around with a mere flick of his wrist, and she landed on the carpet with her stomach down and her ass up. "Stay right there, don't move." He sneered at her as her ass squirmed in mid-air, her face almost leaving an imprint in the carpet. "Make yourself comfortable," he snarled sarcastically. "I'll be right back."

Mandy turned her head to the side and watched him as he went to the window and opened it. She shivered as the freezing air wafted into the room and goose bumps rose immediately on he naked body. He grabbed a handful of snow and walked back to her. With one strong hand, he lifted her rear end off of the carpet and with the other, he smeared a handful of snow directly onto Mandy's pussy. She yelped as the cold snow mixed with the heat of her vagina, and John watched as steam literally rose from Mandy's cunt.

He lowered his face down to the little mound of melting snow on her mound, the liquid dripping off of Mandy's puffy and swollen vulva, and began to lap slowly around the swollen pink lips of her pussy. He mumbled between licks, "Mmmmm, a special snow cone. House-specialty of the Inn. Delicious. Tastes like pussy." Mandy came like a dam bursting when he pushed a tiny pile of snow into her cunt as he simultaneously tongue-fucked her anus. It was right about then that Mandy realized she was completely out of her element as far as hoping controlling this man sexually. He was a freak, a creatively mad sexual professor.

And she had never been so turned on.

Mandy lay on the floor, gyrating, small mini-shocks pulsing from her pussy and anus to every other nerve ending throughout her body, and watched as he walked once more to the still-opened window. She awaited her fate as a virtual sexual snow bunny now.

He walked toward her with another pile of fresh snow gathered from the sill of the window, this pile a bit larger than the last, and he picked her up by the hair, like a small animal, and she squealed in a mixture of slight pain, significant anxiety, and unparalleled arousal.

He smeared the snow onto his eight-inch pistol, mixing in with the man-scaped salt-and-pepper hair of his pubes, and she watched his enormous cockhead turn a bright shade of purple as he pulled her head to his cock forcefully. Like an extra-large grape popsicle, Mandy thought, as she prepared for her treat. Just like a giant icicle dangling in front of her eager lips.

"You are now officially my personal snow blower, Miss Sinclair. Suck my cock, little girl. Suck me good."

Mandy did exactly as ordered, and with great skill and enthusiasm, until he came violently down her throat after about ten minutes of face-fucking and deep throating. Mandy pleasantly discovered that she had just expanded her gag-reflex capacities. She had a feeling she would be exercising this new-found ability numerous times over the next few snow-bound days.

She voraciously swallowed every voluminous drop of John's tangy seed, and marveled at the copious amount of cum that he had produced. She wondered if all fifty-year-old men could cum with such force. She thought back whimsically to an equation from a high school physics class. Force equals mass times acceleration. Who knew then that it would become relevant in such a setting, a fifty-year-old well-hung stud face-fucking a nubile twenty-two year-old cocksucking nymph?

She still wondered about that as she felt the warm semen coat her inner belly. In her trance-like state, she felt herself being picked up by John as he carried her, both of them naked, to the site of their next battle. The Manassas Room, otherwise known as Bull Run.

She thought she heard John mumble something about 'restraints' in her sex-induced fog before she fell into a blissful post-orgasmic slumber as John propped her on the four-post bed and slipped the handcuffs around her tiny wrists.

TO BE CONTINUED. Promise.