Considerate Boyfriend Pt. 05

Payback for Torby

I need not have worried about Betsy and Sydney. Shortly before nine in the morning a sudden frantic knocking at the door woke me. When I came to my senses and finally managed to open it, Sydney practically knocked me down as she fell through the doorway against me. Staring straight back at me from three feet away stood Betsy. Both ladies were clutching the same shopping bags they had begun their 'prom' night with, and both were just as bare-assed naked as they had been when I left them in the courtroom several hours before.

Their appearances had undergone noticeable changes, however. Glancing down at Sydney and back to Betsy more than once it became obvious to me that most of their makeup was gone. Both still had their heels on but absolutely nothing more. Even Sydney's stockings were gone now.

Sydney continued to clutch at me, breathing as if she'd run a mile and obviously struggling to recover from some truly exacting trials. I appeared to be the only thing keeping her lovely legs under her. She looked up into my eyes and let out a whimper and I slipped my arm around her for support.

"I have got to learn how to do that," Betsy said matter-of-factly, "I have never seen men wilt - and I do mean wilt like all three of them did when you - you - devoured them! They were putty in your . . . your mouth! I want to learn how to do it too."

Sydney's mother was clearly in awe of her daughter's prowess in this area. To be honest, I wasn't certain Sydney's oral talents could be taught. Sydney possessed an extraordinary talent when it came to smothering a man's cock with her love. Tommy had been first to recognize her special abilities and helped her along. Even I had given her practice and a good deal of encouragement, but in all honesty, I believe Sydney had been blessed with an incredible, god-given talent. I wasn't at all convinced this was an ability she had inherited from her mother and that had lain dormant and undiscovered in her mother for all these years.

I glanced down at Sydney once more, noted the fatigue in her face and decided she needed immediate bedrest. Betsy, on the other hand, appeared to be in need of several inches of my stiff manpipe applied vigorously and relentlessly to her nether regions - and she needed it soon. Now, at the time, that's what I was thinking. Betsy's thoughts may have differed slightly, but I did know she was presently in a state of extreme envy of her daughter, and she did not appear to show any of the signs of sexual fatigue her daughter was exhibiting. In fact, she appeared to be rested and surprisingly lively for a MILF who had been up all night performing this backwater area's special brand of community service.

I moved quickly to bring the exhausted daughter into our room. I settled Sydney on the bed and turned back toward her mother, expecting her to be right behind me. She wasn't, and I didn't see her immediately.

I turned back to Sydney to make her more comfortable and noticed for the first time she was again, or perhaps still, cum-spattered. There were small crusty patches along her right temple, the left side of her jaw and even down her neck. Her perky small breasts had taken an even more serious drenching. There was even a still-damp clot of cum drying in the blonde hair above her ear. Someone, or possibly several someones, had done a thorough job of unloading their goodies all over this sweet young lady. I knew from personal experience how much she truly adored taking every last bit of a lover's rewards in her hungry little mouth. The mess on her face seemed excessive and wasteful. Witnessing this hot young lady scrambling to swallow down one of my raging loads had been a highpoint in my lovemaking with her.

"They got you good," I observed.

"They called it . . . target practice," she blurted out sadly.

I hurried to the bathroom, wet a washcloth and returned to Sydney's side with it and a soft, dry towel. "Here," I said.

Her mother was still nowhere to be seen. A beautiful MILF wearing nothing more than high heels was difficult to mislay in broad daylight and she had yet to come inside from the parking lot.

"You boys have a game today?" I heard Betsy call from outside. Her voice had definitely not come from just outside our door. My first thought was that Betsy was on the loose!

I panicked momentarily, rushed to the door and peered out. There, in front of the room next door, in all her nude glory, stood Betsy smiling and chatting with what appeared to be an entire college hockey team!

Perhaps chatting wasn't exactly the best word to describe what Betsy was doing. She was talking, trying to strike up a conversation. There were eight or so very fit and hearty young men clad in the same-colored jerseys bearing the college logo from a small school I'd never heard of and clutching bags, ice skates and helmets. They were scattered from the motel room door to the open rear door of a large van, and all appeared to be frozen in place for the moment. All were staring at Betsy as if she were a five-foot-six-inch, very shapely stack of glistening gold bullion. I could see shock in some of their eyes, but mostly I sensed a wolf-like hunger in most of them.

"Whatsa matter? Cat got your tongues?" she asked calmly.

More silent stares. I looked on quietly from my doorway. A moment later Betsy even struck a pose for her new acquaintances, turning slightly, drawing her shoulders back to thrust her chest out more and widening her stance. A couple more of their jaws dropped. She held her pose and waited.

"We played last night. We're headed home now," came a reply from the boldest young man of the group.

"Did you win?" she asked with a tease in her voice.

Most of the young men broke out in smirking grins at her question.

"Yeah," came the reply from the team's self-appointed spokesman, "We won our conference championship last night!"

"Ooh! That's reason to celebrate! I'll bet you're all feeling pretty cocky right now, aren't you?"

I noticed Betsy placed a lot of emphasis on the word 'cocky' and even thrust her chest out and shook her breasts from side to side a bit as she said it. I couldn't believe what was happening! After dancing almost nude all evening and then performing community service with three horny men all night, she seemed willing to celebrate a college hockey team's championship in a truck stop motel.

It was at that very moment that their coach made his appearance from the far side of the van. He was about my age, barely older than the young men he was coaching and sporting a very shocked expression when he first glimpsed Betsy and her state of undress.

He stared her up and down for a long time before uttering what I considered a truly foolish question. "Did you know you aren't wearing any clothes?"

I watched as Betsy gazed slowly, carefully from one young man to the next until she had taken them all in. She straightened and asked, "Do any of you boys mind if I don't have any clothes on?"

A smile broke out on her sweet face as one after another of these college boys smiled and nodded nervously like young idiots. She turned her stare on the coach and said, "No one on the team seems to mind, coach . . . Are you sure you want me to put my clothes on?"

The coach only shrugged, stared nervously at his feet and mumbled, "Nah, nah. It's fine. You're fine- It's just that - well - you could get arrested going around with no clothes on like that."

He was right, of course and Betsy was quick to point that out.

"Already been arrested. Last night. And I was wearing clothes when the Sheriff arrested me. Well . . . some clothes anyway," she told them proudly.

Her confession brought on a wave of chatter from her admirers. They all appeared to be impressed that they were in the presence of real live jailbird, and a nude one at that². Her confession served to break the ice.

When their chatter died away, Betsy sent the conversation in a whole new direction with her next question, "So-o-o . . . did your team get a trophy?"

Did they get a trophy!! Every last one of them began speaking at once, including the coach. Finally, Betsy silenced them all with a wave of her hand and the question, "Can I see?"

A path to the door parted immediately. Betsy dePoet, English Department Chair, respected faculty member and intellectual luminary on her junior college campus was about to stride blissfully and completely nude into the lion's den. At the threshold, she paused with her hand on the door jamb, cast a wicked, knowing smile to me where I lurked down the way in my own doorway, then turned to all her newfound friends and called out quite dramatically, "My, but that's an awfully big trophy! You must be s-o-o proud!"

The door closed with a hushed thud behind Betsy, and it was in that instant I knew without a doubt she had stumbled onto the perfect opportunity to entertain herself for the rest of the morning. It might take an entire trophy-winning college hockey team to satisfy her.

With the closing of the door on Betsy, my thoughts returned to Sydney and her needs. I turned to see how she was doing but discovered she too was nowhere to be found. The dePoet women were keeping me hopping. Then I heard water running and knew Sydney had fled to the shower. My first urge was to join her. The memory of our showers together was still fresh in my mind. I thought better of it when I recalled the dripping, exhausted state the local law enforcement had returned her in. It would be best, I decided, to give her time to recover. Besides, I had every intention of dipping my tongue into that sweet blue lagoon of hers and I preferred that it be squeaky clean and reeking only with her own excitement.

The room grew very quiet. Only the sound of running water could be heard as I lay on the bed waiting for Sydney. Suddenly though, I began to hear a muted, steady thumping on the wall between my room and the next. Then I heard a high-pitched squeal and muted cheering. Shortly after all that, the cheering and thumping began to fade away and then it would return intermittently. Apparently, Betsy had discovered a clever way to celebrate the boys' championship that brought them great joy.

At about the end of the third interval of this series of squealing, thumping and cheering. Sydney appeared in the bathroom doorway wrapped in a towel, hair still wet, but with a touch of makeup and lipstick. She looked lovely.

"I feel much better," she announced. Her voice came out hoarse and raspy.

"You look rested, but you sound like you have a sore throat," I told her.

"Well," she began with a little hesitation and a sheepish grin, "Justice Oxman was just so godawful big! I don't think he'd ever had a woman - any woman - take his whole cock in her mouth and throat like I did."

She was still standing in the doorway as we talked. She took a deep breath, beamed a big proud grin at me and told me, "He had the biggest - and I mean the thickest, the longest, the straightest cock I have ever faced. I was scared by it at first, but Tommy and you, too, always encouraged me to do my best and well . . . I did! Justice Oxman was so impressed that that's all he wanted me to do for his portion of my community service. That's why I sound so hoarse. My throat feels a little . . . well, stretched out."

Sydney had been creeping slowly toward me as I sat on the bed and by now, she was seated beside me, still wrapped in that towel, her blonde hair still damp but drying. As luck (my luck) would have it, her towel fell open slightly at the bottom and I was finally treated to the tiniest glimpse of her little blue heaven. I so desperately wanted to dive face-first into that sea of blue and I'm afraid she caught me staring.

"Oh boy!" she blurted out, "I'll bet you've got what Tommy always called blue balls!"

I snorted out loud at that. "Heck of a combination! I've got blue balls and you've got a sore throat!"

Sydney giggled then too. About the time we had both quieted down, there came another round of thumping on the wall, followed by a shriek.

Before the cheering erupted this time, Sydney turned and asked, "What's going on over there?"

I smirked and answered, "Well, that is what your mother's got,"

"Hunh?" she answered, puzzled by my answer.

"I've have blue balls, you have a sore throat and your mother," I explained pausing to choose my words carefully, "Has a college hockey team next door, complete with their coach. They're celebrating winning a tournament or something."

Sydney turned toward the source of the shrieking and thumping just as another round of cheering erupted. "You have to be kidding me! I didn't even know Mom liked hockey! It must be quite a victory celebration!"

"Well, I wasn't able to see it, but your mother was awfully impressed with the size of their trophy when they showed it to her," I told her. It was at that point that I slipped my arm around her shoulder.

Sydney continued to gaze at the source of the celebration and said, "I'm sorry I missed it!"

I stroked her shoulder gently and tried to reassure her by saying, "Don't worry. I'm sure they will be in the mood to celebrate even after they have finished with your mother. Maybe they will show you their trophy later."

I made a small, almost imperceptible tug at the top of Sydney's towel with the hand resting on her shoulder and the towel simply fell away. Her perky breasts were jutting out and her smooth belly looked so inviting, especially with all those blue curls peeking out from between her legs.

"Oh my! I forgot all about your blue balls," she announced quietly while gazing down at her nakedness.

"Oh, I didn't," I told her. My fingertips were already tweaking the nipple I could reach.

"Well . . . as long as you don't want me to swallow anything I suppose I could help take care of your problem," she told me cautiously. I noticed her hand was resting on the already hardened lump in my pants.

"But first," I blurted out and interrupted her train of thought by placing my hand over hers in my lap, "Let me do something I have wanted - no, needed to do for a week now." I'm sure I sounded pretty desperate as I held her hand and stared into her eyes.

"I know Mom and I teased you mercilessly last week, but-!" she started to say.

I never let her finish that sentence. I dropped to my knees on the carpet in front of her, slipped my hands behind her knees and lifted her legs up roughly. Two things resulted from all this. Sydney was thrown out flat on her back with a sudden, soft bounce and more importantly to me, I was now mere inches above her sweet, fresh-smelling pussy! Her pussy lips glistened with dampness beneath all those soft curls. I could see droplets of her womanliness gathering in her cleft. The fresh scent of some herbal soap mixed with the raw, pure animal aroma of female filled my nose.

"But, Torby-" she protested.

I never let her finish that sentence either. I swooped down into all that inviting deep blue sea with tongue extended and eyes closed. My face made wet spongy sounds as nose, tongue and lips spread her pussy wide and I nuzzled at her clit. I have never encountered a pussy as perpetually drenched as Sydney's pussy always seemed to be. Right now, I had set myself the task of inhaling every last drop from that glorious wellspring of her womanhood.

My quest turned out to be futile. Sydney began to cum less than a minute after I launched my assault. Her hips squirmed happily back and forth against my face like a sopping wet dishrag and only enflamed me more. In the end, my case of blue balls overwhelmed me. I simply couldn't hold out any longer.

I jumped to my feet and nearly tore my pants and underwear off as I rose. My steely cock had a mind of its own and when freed, aimed itself directly at Sydney's opening. I took her, plunging my throbbing cock completely to the hilt with my first thrust. I don't believe she ever stopped cumming in any of the time between my crazed tongue-lashing and the sudden shift into a full-on, no-holds-barred fucking.

I know I was treating Sydney roughly, perhaps even brutally, but I had been teased and tormented by her for more than a week and it was time for a reckoning. I thrust into her over and over until I could stand it no longer. I knew I hadn't lasted nearly as long as I would have liked, but it was time to repay that week of torment with an enormous, sloppy load of steaming man-gravy. Besides, I was sure, given ten minutes to think all of this over, I could come up with another stiff, stiff reminder for her.

I churned and I grunted, and I spewed my boiling hot lava into Sydney for what seemed like a glorious, well-lived lifetime. When I was finished with her all she could sputter was a breathless, "G-g-golly!"

I pushed myself to my feet and surveyed the damage. Her sweet blue muff wasn't blue any more. Apparently, my long-delayed orgasm had detonated inside her little cavern like a bomb. The resulting blast had spewed up and out over her smooth belly and thighs and left her - and me coated in copious amounts of rich white cream.

I smiled down at my handiwork. Sydney's chest was heaving, her eyes were glazed over. Strangely, her legs were still lifted up high and spread wide, though I wasn't holding them any longer. I looked down into the cum-soaked battle field between her legs and smiled. The only thing I could do to improve upon what I saw was to add more cum. I could already feel new life stirring in my nether region.

Sydney looked up at me, still struggling for breath and in a labored voice taunted me with, "Is that . . . the best . . . you can do?"

Just then, we heard another round of cheers coming through the thin wall separating us from the room next door. I didn't know exactly what Betsy and that hockey team were doing, but I was pretty certain another member of the team had just slammed his puck into the net.

With those cheers still ringing in my ears, I gazed down past my stiffening cock to the cum-soaked pussy below and realized my job was not finished yet. Nothing excites me more than a bracing challenge! Sydney's breathless words, coupled with the rowdy cheering next door were all it took to bring new life to my trusty spike. It stiffened and rose skyward with a swift lurch.

"Oh, gosh!" Sydney blurted out. Her blue eyes were fixed on my erection as it shot upward and stiffened into a throbbing weapon that would most certainly send her mind reeling once more.

"Now - where were we?" I asked. I'm sure I was wearing an evil grin as I stared down at her.

I grasped her ankles which were still conveniently positioned exactly where I needed them. This time however, I scooted Sydney further onto the bed so that I could climb completely on the bed with her. I expected this bout would take longer and leave us both wasted cum-dripping wrecks and I wanted to be in position to go the distance with my sweet little tormenter.

I set to work then. I entered her slowly but with extreme conviction. Sydney would be held accountable for all the suffering she had put me through this past week. At that very moment another shriek came rattling through the wall from next-door. With my cock buried deep inside the younger Ms. dePoet, I looked to the source of that scream and made a solemn vow that her mother would receive every last bit of retribution she deserved as well. I was going to fuck Betsy dePoet within an inch of her life too. I would teach them there is a stiff price to be paid for treating a thoughtful - considerate even - lover the way they had treated me, and I was just the man to do it.