A Cherri Busted

Author's note: This is a fictional account of my first time with an older man. Names are changed, but the events are true.

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Cherri was tired and it was late. She'd been working in the lab for hours now. She'd blown off work the day before and the glassware she was hired to wash had stacked up. Her boss, Grant Hawkins, had been pissed when she showed up today, late, but there. At forty some years old, Cherri decided that he didn't remember what it was like to be young and want to have some fun.

He took one look at her wispy, nearly transparent slip of a dress and marched to the closet. Cherri looked down at her self trying to figure out what was wrong with it, was it stained? All she saw was how the built-n bra pushed up her firm, round breasts showing a good amount of tanned flesh. She also noticed her black lace thong showed through the gauze of her dress. A sly smile crept onto her face when Grant shoved a white lab coat into her hands.

"Put that on," he growled, and looked her over one more time. His look pissed her off, so she licked her lips and stepped closer. "What's the matter, Mr. Hawkins, don't like what you see."

A lip curled, but he didn't say anything, just stomped off to his office.

It wasn't that Mr. Hawkins was so bad to look at. Kinda like Harrison Ford, maybe a little younger. He didn't have a gut like my dad, his hair was short, his eyes kind of gray blue. Cherri shrugged and pulled on the lab coat, reaching for a pair of rubber gloves.

Now it was after 8 o'clock at night. Mid-summer and the sun was still out, but Cherri was ready to go home. Pulling off her gloves and the lab coat, she let down her honey blond hair, shaking it out. Her feet hurt. The mules might make her legs look more shapely, but they didn't handle standing 10 hours very well. She stretched her hands high over her head to work out the worst kinks in her back. Her skimpy dress now disclosed the firm roundness of her ass cheeks.

It would be the moment Mr. Hawkins left his office.

Cherri turned around, about to tell him she was leaving when the words died on her lips.

The look he was giving her was not one she'd seen on him before. Not in all the years she'd known him, never. This was not the look of a man who'd been to everyone of her birthday parties since she was a baby, the last one just two weeks ago: her eighteenth.

She'd seen this look in the eyes of the boys who wanted her. The men who looked her over on the street, undressing her in their minds.

"Um, I was just about to leave."

"Not yet," he said, walking toward her, backing her up against the sink, bringing his body into contact with hers.

"It's late."

"Yes, Cherri, it's too late. For you."

What was he talking about? His hands were on her ass, pushing up the thin fabric of her dress. Lips sucked at her neck, sucking a trail up to her ear. "I'm sick of you twitching your hot ass around here and you're going to pay for your slutty behaviour."

Cherri pushed hard against his chest, but he wasn't moving anywhere. "No," she said, getting frantic.

"You might say 'no' now, but you're going to be begging for it soon, you little bitch." His lips came down on her, roughly possessing her mouth, forcing her lips open. One hand still gripped her bare ass, the other grasped her blond hair angling her mouth for his plunder. Cherri tried to squirm out of his grip, but froze as she rubbed against the hardness in Grant's trousers. He forced her hips forward into his hard-on. "I knew you'd like it, bitch."

"No, I don't like it," she sobbed, "please let me go."

"I don't think so, honey." He held her a little away from him, hands on her tan shoulders. Capable fingers slid under the spagehtti straps of her slip. Watching her eyes, the tears welling in them, he slid the straps off her shoulders until the tops of her nipples showed. With his rough thumbs, he exposed them fully. He pinched htem then and she gasped, trying to wrench away. But with his knee firmly between her legs, pressing her to the sink, pinning her in place. His smile was nasty as he pinched harder.

"Please stop," she begged.

"Oh, I will," he paused to pull the nipples hard. "When I'm good and ready." He bent his head to her breast and sucked deep and hard, bringing a moan of pain from her lips. he lifted his lips from her tit to say, "Feel how hard you make me, little slut?" When she didn't answer, he bit down on her sensitive nipple.

"Ye-yes," she stammered.

"No you don't. Take your hand and stroke it."

Reluctantly, she let her fingers slide over the bulge in his pants.

"That's it. Now, unzip me and take it out."

"God, no." She began to struggle again.

But he was in her face. "You better do it, bitch. Or I'll fire your ass right now and tell your father that I had to, you were coming on to every male in the place and some of the women." He paused a minute to let the threat sink in. It was half true, the male half, at least. And I have proof."

Her shaking hand pulled the zipper down, shamed at the lewd smile of triumph. Cold finger tips grasped the hot member through soft cotton boxers. Grant hissed, but said, "That's it" when she established a rhythm. His head once again dipped to the puckered nipple.

"Down on your knees," he said suddenly, and was pushing at her shoulders, forcing her down. Her breasts were still exposed. "Suck it good, little whore. I know you can, those lips were made for sucking a man's cock. So were you. Now, lick it." He fisted her hair and pushed her at his bobbing dick. Her tongue touched it. "I said, lick it, cunt. I've dreamed of those pouty lips surrounding my meat." He pushed her at the throbber. Her lips opened taking the rod in a little. "You can do better than that." He pushed and pushed until she accepted most of the hard cock into her waiting mouth and throat. Her gags seemed to spur him on, and he pushed deeply into her.

"That's it. Take it all, you little slut. YOu're as good at it as I thought you would be." His words bounced off the inside of Cherri's skul as she sucked for all she was worth. Sure, she'd sucked cock before, but no one had never forced her to do it. She did it when she wanted something from a guy - money, jewelry, a night out at an expensive club. She didn't do it because she enjoyed it. And she wasn't enjoying it now.

How could she? She was being forced to do this by a man she trusted, an older man who'd never treated her as anymore than a tolerated neice. Now he had her on her knees servicing him like a whore, her ass and tits exposed like a cheap bitch sucking cock to get her next fix.

Hands grasping hair forced her on his cock. He fucked her mouth brutally as he called her his little slut. "A tramp like you needs a firm hand. Your dad should have beat your bare ass for the shit you pull. Maybe then you'd have learned real respect for men."

He pistoned harder, faster; her teeth scraped his meat as it flew in and out of his mouth. "Christ," he groaned. "You slut." Then he shot his load, deep in her throat. So much cum she couldn't catch it all, it dribbled down the sides of her mouth. When she looked up, she saw that smug face again. And closed her eyes in shame.

"Don't you look pretty with that junk all over your slutty face?" He grasped her by her arm and dragged her back to her feet. Scooping some of his spunk off her face, he fed it to her. She sucked his finger clean, her face bright with humiliation.

His hand disappeared under her skirt to finger her pussy. His deepening smile sickened her, but her own slickness added to her shame. Two fingers easily slid into her dripping slit. She gasped when his thumb began to grind into her swollen clit.

"Fuck slut," he murmured. "You are such a whore."

She was, she had to be to be turned on by such rough treatment. "No," she whispered.

His answer was to remove his fingers and to hold them, glistening, in front of her eyes. "Your words might lie, but your whore body doesn't." With that he wiped them on her lips.

Twisting her around and pinning her against the sink, he pushed the string of her G-string away from her entrance, letting his already hard cock rest against the moist entrance, rubbing against her clit, teasing her, tormenting her with her need.

"Tell me to fuck you."

Cherri gritted her teeth.

"Do it, slut, or I tear your ass apart."

"God," Cherri breathed, "Don't."

"Praying won't help." He grasped her hair at the skul and pulled. "Beg.'

"Fuck me, you bastard. Fuck me and get it over with."

He pulled again. "That doesnt sound like a grateful slut. Beg me like the dirty slut you are."

"Fuck me. Fuck me hard. I want it hard and good. Fuck me."

"Much better," he growled and slammed into her dripping cunt. "Tight little whore. Take it all. This is what you want, a hot cock and a man who knows how to use it."

God, Cherri was hot for it. His cock was hard and fucking her deep. A thumb was grinding her clit, making her grind back into the dick that was pounding her. Fucking her like she'd never been fucked before. Using her like no boy dared. "Godgodgod," she repeated over and over. "Fucker. Oh yeah. Do it." She couldn't believe she was saying such a thing out loud. Begging for this treatment. "Oh, shit. I'm coming."

Grant was still fucking her when she realization came back. "Fuck slut. Whore. Bitch. Cunt. Take it all," he said and slammed into her one last time, coming explosively into her punished pussy. He fell on top of her, pushing her painfully into the edge of the sink. He pulled out of her with a soft whoosh. She felt the cum slowly trickle down her inner thigh. Pulling her up right by her full breasts, he turned her to face him, his face stern.

"I'll let you keep this job, and not tell your father what a whore you are if you are out at the cabin by the lake tomorrow morning at 9 AM."

Cherri's breath came quick. She wanted to say no, to tell him to piss off, but she stayed silent. That smile she was beginning to hate, even as it turned her on, reappeared. "Be prepared to do everything I say." He paused. "And be fucked all weekend. Now, punch out and get your slutty ass out of here."

Cherri did as she was told, not looking back. She didn't know that Grant Hawkins had the security camera trained toward the lab's sink and that the recorder was in his office.

Her mind was already on what the coming weekend would bring.

The end? Hardly.