Cockteaser Comeuppance

Morgan had been a cockteaser for as long as I'd known her. Which wasn't that long, granted, but long enough for me to form a pretty good notion of the kind of person she was. She moved in next door to us the summer she graduated high school. Her mother had run off with some old flame a couple of years earlier and she was living alone with her father, a guy who seemed to be off working more than he was ever at home.

At first I thought that would have given us something in common, something to build a friendship on, since my own mom had done a similar thing when I was still in my teens and I also lived alone with a father who was seldom home. But it actually did little if anything to seal a bond between us. Morgan had little time for me, even though we were close in age. I was too nerdy, I think, too bookish, too absorbed in my college courses. She once told me I was too nice, and she never dated guys who wore glasses. But that didn't mean I couldn't try my best to win her over. Especially since after a few weeks she went from ignoring me completely to at least giving me the time of day. My hope never flagged in those early days.

Because oh, was I smitten. Not only was she an incredibly pretty girl, with enormous blue eyes and flaxen hair, a perfect complexion and a mouth that ... let's just say a mouth that had me fantasizing from early on about where that mouth could go and what it might do ... but she had this body. Let me tell you about this body.

She was slender, first off, with long, lean, perfectly shaped legs and a tiny, trim, pert little butt. Her hips were curved nicely and she had a small, taut waist that a guy could almost circle with two hands. But then she had these tits, two beautifully shaped, full, heavy breasts that seemed to be about to burst free of any tiny bikini top she wore. How a girl so slender could also have breasts so big was beyond me. I happen to love slender females, but it's been my experience that invariably such girls are almost always small-chested. Not Morgan. She looked like she could nurse quintuplets.

And as to those bikini tops, well, that's basically where all the trouble began. From early in the summer she would sunbathe in the privacy of her backyard. Except that it wasn't so private as far as our backyard was concerned. From our back porch I had a perfect view of her favorite sunbathing positions. And if I ever needed to I could retire to my back bedroom and access an even better view from up there. I even had a pair of binoculars ... but that's another story.

Before we'd ever exchanged a word I'm pretty sure she knew I watched her from one or the other of these vantage points. It was as if in her every move she was aware she had an appreciative audience. What's more, it seemed she was glad she was being observed. She seemed to get off on putting on a show, on teasing the poor nerdy guy who kept tabs on her from next door. She would stride out in her incredibly brief string bikini, lay down her towel and whatever she needed for her afternoon's sunbathe, and then she would do her stretching exercises. She would face me and stretch her arms above her head, letting her lush tits heave and shift in that hopelessly overloaded harness. I mean the two triangles of material barely covered her nipples. Most of her breasts bulged out over the top or to the side, and the nipples dented the fabric in an obscene fashion.

Then she would turn around and bend over to touch the ground, giving me a superb view of her gorgeous ass cheeks. The bikini bottom was basically a thong, which disappeared between her buns and left them pretty much naked. When she turned to face me again I had a great view of the miniscule triangle of material covering her crotch, a piece of stuff so tiny you knew she had to shave her pussy completely to wear such a thing at all.

Usually by this stage I would have a massive hard-on and would have to resist the impulse to start masturbating right then and there on the porch, On occasion I confess that when I watched her from my bedroom I did drop my pants and begin jerking off. The erotic show was just too much. The girl was a walking wet-dream.

Eventually of course as the summer progressed I did manage to catch her eye and strike up a conversation or two. She told me she was working part-time at a local supermarket but was looking for something more interesting. She didn't have a steady boyfriend but was seeing several different guys casually. I'd already witnessed pick-up trucks and a hot car or two waiting at the curb for her in the evenings, and from what I could tell all of the drivers looked tough and intimidating. When I hinted at one point that I would be interested in dating her myself, that was when she laughed her tinkling laugh and told me I was way too nice and she didn't date guys who wore glasses.

Which was easy enough for me to accept, of course, but for the fact that she seemed to take inordinate pleasure in teasing me. She once leaned over the fence as we were having a conversation and since she was wearing shorts and a man's shirt open to the navel I could watch the globes of those gorgeous breasts shifting and rolling inside the fabric. She'd long since changed out of her bikini so I knew the tits were free to move. At one point, whether inadvertently or not I'm not sure, one huge breast rolled into the open and I had a perfect view of her erect nipple just a foot or two from my face.

"Oh my, you weren't supposed to see that," she laughed. But she took her time shifting it back inside her shirt and by then I'm sure my hard-on was apparent inside my own shorts.

On another occasion, an overcast and showery day, she was sitting on the side steps of her porch wearing a pretty, flowery skirt. I'd been chatting with her across the fence there about nothing in particular when she suddenly shifted position, opening her legs and letting her skirt ride up her thighs. I suddenly had a terrific view up between her legs, at the bare, shaved crack of her cunt. She was wearing no underpants!

She watched me quietly for a moment or two before speaking.

"Like what you see, Tony?" she grinned.

"Morgan ..." I began, unsure of what I was about to say.

But she simply laughed, pulled down her skirt, gave me a cheerful wave and disappeared in the house. I was tempted to follow but I knew deep down that was not her intention. She was simply interested in teasing me, leading me on. She didn't take me seriously at all. And I had to live with it. I was living next door to a cockteaser and had to make the best of it.

Eventually, toward the end of the summer, she did consent to go to a movie with me. It was some kind of romantic comedy starring an actor she had the hots for. None of the superstuds she'd been dating were interested in seeing it, apparently. Not enough gun-play and explosions I guess. So I drew the short straw. Except that I was in heaven the whole evening, sitting close to her, feeling her brush against me once in a while. My cock kept twitching in my pants the whole two hours, and by the time I drove her home my shorts were damp with pre-cum juice.

She must have sensed my condition, and when I parked on our deserted street in front of her house she actually leaned over and kissed me. I couldn't believe my luck. I thought I'd finally broken through. And it wasn't just a peck on the cheek. It was full open mouth with tongues flicking and the whole bit. My hand was suddenly on her breast and, miracle of miracles, her own hand went down to my crotch. As I squeezed and fondled her tit her hand stroked up and down on my hardened cock.

"Feels like you're ready for action, big guy," she teased, breaking off our kiss.

"Oh Morgan, you've no idea," I gasped. "You must know I've wanted you for months."

She just smiled. But then to my amazement she unzipped my fly and rummaged around inside my shorts until she had her hand curled around my cock and was hauling it out into the open. She began to pump on it with an expert hand motion. Morgan might have kept herself aloof with me, but this certainly wasn't the first cock she'd handled, that much was obvious.

In seconds I could feel myself close to coming and I didn't want this to end too soon. It just felt so good after all those weeks of lusting after her. Then she was leaning forward and I thought for a second she was going to suck me into her mouth. I couldn't believe it. This was too good to be true.

Turns out it was too good to be true. With a sudden serious look into my eyes she stopped her hand motions, let go my cock, and opened the car door.

"You know what, Tony, I've just remembered there's something I have to do. We'll have to finish this some other time. Besides, my dad is expecting me home. He'll kill me if I'm late."

I was pretty sure her dad wasn't even home. There certainly weren't many lights on in her house. But I was in no position to analyze the situation or even protest. She didn't give me time. She stepped out of the car and slammed the door and as she moved away I swear I could hear her tinkling laughter.

What a fucking tease! What a mean-spirited, cockteasing bitch! I couldn't believe it. I stared down at my wilting hard-on and watched a pearl of pre-cum seep from the tip and drool down the shaft. I no longer cared if I came or not. Sex by myself was not exactly what I had in mind. I was actually in a state of shock, or paralysis, call it what you will. I could not quite process what had just happened.

We'd been on a date. We'd had a nice evening. I felt for sure she was starting to warm to me, after weeks of teasing. Now it seemed all she had in mind the whole time was more teasing. But why? Did it give her that much pleasure to make a fool of a guy? Was she neurotic, crazy, what?

I spent a pretty wretched evening, quietly fuming. And I also had a terrible night's sleep. You know how you feel sometimes when you've had a long day and someone does

something inexplicably mean or hurtful, and you can't think of anything else? That's how I felt. Morgan had never been my girlfriend, but I felt betrayed. I became kind of obsessed with the meanness of what she'd done.

By next morning I'd remembered something. One of the guys I'd seen weeks ago parked out front waiting for his date with her was someone I knew. I'd had a couple of high school courses with him, and though he tended to mix with the surly, tough crowd of hot-shots and bullies, I knew he had a decent streak. We'd had a couple of conversations and I knew he wasn't a total prick.

I'd also seen him working the shelves at a local supermarket. I wondered if it was the same place Morgan worked part-time. I dropped by there and found him stocking in the produce department. He agreed to meet me out back on his smoke break, which was only a few minutes away. I began asking him about Morgan and his date with her.

At first he didn't want to say anything. Like I said, he was a pretty decent guy underneath. But then I told him about my experience and how I was wondering if I was the only guy she'd done this to. Apparently not. Turns out Drew had had a similar experience. He didn't want to give details, but my version of our date struck a chord with him.

"I think she really goes for tough, mean guys. Kind of male versions of herself," he told me. "Those are the only ones she puts out for. If she senses any decency, anything she'd consider weak, you're off the list."

"But that doesn't make any sense," I said. "Does she want to be mistreated or something?"

Even as I was saying this I was thinking Drew was a pretty good amateur psychologist. What he said actually did ring true.

"Maybe. Who knows? I gave up after that one date. Who needs that kind of shit in your life?"

Who indeed. I went home determined to avoid Morgan from then on. I wasn't even sure I'd be jerking off anymore to the sight of her antics in the backyard. I was glad fall was approaching. Less chance of seeing her at all.

But of course a girl as attractive, as resourceful, as nuts, some might say, as Morgan always has the power to get in a last dig. And this was the case that very afternoon after I'd returned from my talk with Drew. Not only was she on display again in the backyard, she was on display completely naked in the backyard.

This had never happened before. She'd always at least worn her tiny string bikini, even though once or twice she had removed her top. This time she had removed her bottom as well. She was striding about as if inspecting her garden, without a stitch of clothing. No bikini. Nothing. I couldn't take my eyes off her beautiful shaved pussy.

"Tony, I've been waiting to catch you," she said, once she noticed me on the porch. "I want to apologize for last night."

I didn't say a word. I was kind of beyond speech. I was wondering how someone so beautiful could be such a fuck-up. What had happened to her in life to make her act the way she did? Had she been hurt, abused, what?

"I'd like to make it up to you. I'll be alone in the house all evening. Why don't you come up to my room around ten? First door on the left at the top of the stairs."

Still I didn't respond. I couldn't take my eyes off those magnificent heavy tits, and that stunning shaved snatch. She didn't even wait for a response. She laughed her sweet, teasing laugh and turned to go back in the house. I watched that beautiful naked ass flex as she strode up the steps and disappeared. And I just stood there stunned, a hard-on once again growing in my shorts.

Just what the fuck was this all about, I wondered. Did I believe for a minute that Morgan was actually inviting me up to her room for sex, for real sexual consummation, after all these weeks of meanness and teasing? Not really. I'm not completely naïve. She had something up her sleeve. Some other mean, cockteasing trick. And of course the last thing I should have done was show up at the appointed time. But as the hours passed I must confess I was curious. I'd already given up on her. I didn't really want anything more to do with her. But I was still curious. I wanted to know, once and for all, how far she would go to tease me, to humiliate me. Once I knew, I could forget her, I told myself.

At the appointed hour I climbed over the fence into Morgan's yard. The back door was unlocked and the house was quiet. Morgan's father was out, as usual. I felt like an interloper, a house-breaker, and I was on the alert for some nasty surprise as I stepped quietly up the stairs. I heard nothing till I was on the landing, then the low-key sound of moaning reached me. I turned to the left, moved toward the open door of Morgan's bedroom.

The foot of her bed faced the door, and the first thing I saw was Morgan's flaxen hair and beautiful face, her eyes twinkling as she stared back at me. Her mouth was wrapped around an enormous cock and her head moved up and down as she sucked it.

Some guy lay beneath her. All I could see of him were his big, muscular legs. His face was buried between her legs as they performed their sixty-nine. He was completely unaware of my presence, I'm sure. He was busy with other things. And I was perfectly quiet as I stood there gazing at this obscene tableau set up for my further edification. I almost laughed out loud. It was too crazy, too perfect. A final mean dig at yours truly. From Morgan, the ultimate cruel crazy cockteaser.

I suppose if I'd been a different person I'd have stepped confidently into the room, lightly quipped "Mind if I join you?" and stripped down to offer my own cock for Morgan to deal with. We might have had a threesome. The big guy and I could have double-teamed Morgan, maybe even double-penetrated her.

But I wasn't that kind of person. And I was pretty certain that a threesome was not what Morgan had in mind. Not to mention the guy beneath her sucking her pussy. No, this was just another set-up to tease and humiliate you-know-who. It must have given her some kind of kinky thrill, but I wasn't about to hang around to analyze it. My reaction was just what I suppose she expected it to be. Surprise. Shock. Then a turning around and heading quietly back down the stairs.

But I wasn't all that upset, all things considered. I hadn't been expecting much other than more teasing, more humiliation. If that's what she got off on, fine, let her have her perverse thrill. I was done with her. She couldn't do any more to me. I chalked it up as a learning experience. I'd crossed paths with a truly deranged young woman.

The weather changed completely in the next few days and Morgan's sunbathing sessions in the backyard were over for the season. It was fall. I was absorbed in new college courses. I didn't really give her much thought. A few months went by and I didn't see her at all. I came to think that she'd moved out, and I must admit I was relieved at the notion.

Then sometime in November I got a call from Drew, the guy I'd asked about her in the supermarket. He had some news about Morgan and wondered If I was interested. I said I wasn't, really, but he went ahead and told me anyway.

"She's working at this club on the east side of town. As a stripper. She finally gets to give her cockteaser streak a work-out in public, for not one, but a whole group of horny guys."

"How do you know this? You've seen her?"

"I know one of the bouncers. He's a friend of mine. He invited me down there recently. Yeah, I saw her. She puts on quite a show. It's a pretty raunchy club, especially after hours, apparently. The owner is a young guy, someone she's been involved with. He got her the gig."

"A stripper. Wow. I guess it beats working at the supermarket."

"For sure. But get this. She also performs for stag parties at the club. Some of them after hours. And I hear she does more than strip, if the price is right."

"Sounds like Morgan has found her niche in life."

"For sure. But here's the thing. There's a late late stag party tomorrow night. My bouncer friend can let us in. He says there are enough guys, no one will know the difference. Besides, the beer will have been flowing. Everyone will be pissed."

I hesitated. A sex show in a sleazy part of town. With Morgan the main attraction. Did I really need this? On the other hand: a sex show in a sleazy part of town, with Morgan the main attraction. Could I resist? I couldn't. I said I'd be there. And the next evening, way past midnight, I met Drew and together we were let into the club by his bouncer friend. The place was pretty noisy, full of drunken young guys celebrating the upcoming nuptials of a handsome young lout with muscles to spare.

Morgan was between sets and we had time for a few beers before her next show started. We had a table at the back and nobody paid us any attention. Everyone was too happy, too drunk. It was a stag, after all. There wasn't a single female in the place. Until Morgan made her appearance, that is.

And when she did, things got kind of quiet. If you didn't count the sexy music blasting from the speakers. From the moment she stepped out onto the small elevated platform that passed as a stage, she had everyone's attention. Partly because of her incredible beauty, but partly because of what she was wearing.

She had on her erotic schoolgirl outfit: crisp white shirt with a dark striped tie, worn under a navy blue blazer, matching navy mini-skirt so short you could see the tops of her black nylon stockings attached to the straps of her black garter belt, and, to complete the picture, a cute straw boater hat. A vision of stunning teenage eroticism, in other words. No wonder all the boys went quiet all of a sudden.

She did some erotic pole-dancing for starters, swivelling herself around by one hand as she teasingly raised her skirt with the other, giving us all a proper view of her nylon-encased thigh and a stretched taut garter. Then she was loosening her tie and opening up one, two, three buttons on her white shirt, allowing us a peek at her cleavage, her glorious tits packed in a turquoise bra.