Dick Innes: Gets His Cum Uppance

She wasn't one of the regular patrons. I would have recognised her if she were. I could see she had her eye on me, though she wasn't the only one.

This was one of my usual haunts. A bar called "Muffins". The gimmick was that they sold cakes, like a coffee shop. It had the added benefit of bringing in the coffee house crowd.

She wasn't just another one of them, either. She had a different kind of look about her. She wasn't just looking for a good time. No, she had something else in mind. Whatever it was, she was determined to get it. Her whole body screamed it, from her shoulders, firmly set, to her drumming fingers, right down to her feet, shoulder width and ready to move.

Something in that told me she would be a challenge.

I could tell that she knew my game, too. She saw that I wanted coffee of a different kind. Whatever. She wasn't fooling me. She wanted it, too. I had no doubt that she would succumb to my charms, but she would at least put up a fight.

I had been in here a hundred times. At least three of the girls in there had been intimate with me. At least three more wished that they had. I had a reputation, and I lived up to it. I was very rarely alone at night, and no one had ever left unsatisfied.

I could always go for an easy lay. There were a few here that wouldn't take much persuasion. Hell, with the girls in here, I could probably arrange to have a party, but that wasn't what I wanted right at that moment. I wanted her.

There was no denying, she had caught my eye with that look. Blue pencil skirt, matching jacket, mousey brown hair, kinked where it had been tied back. She probably had a respectable job. A teacher, maybe? A secretary?

I walked past her and breathed her perfume. I felt her stiffen at my passing, no doubt hoping I would speak to her. I heard her sag when I didn't.

I walked past, heading for a couple of girls I knew. They could be sisters, twins almost, but I knew that they weren't. The were the best of friends, though, and it was fun to play them off against each other. I had already slept with one of them, and she was trying to get me to sleep with her friend. For now, it was more fun for me to pretend she wasn't my type.

"Julia!" I exclaimed, hand on her shoulder. I leaned in, kissing her cheek, catching her friend's jealous look. I sat, uninvited, and started having a brainless conversation about the weather.

"How did it get so warm and wet?" I asked.

"You just had to blow in her ear," replied her jealous friend. Julia hit her shoulder, crying, "Shut up!"

I didn't bite. I was too busy watching the mousey stranger. She had a briefcase. Lawyer, maybe? I watched as she flagged down the barmaid, another one of my conquests.

Her hand was long and dainty. The diamond ring adorning it wasn't rich enough for law. Neither was it accompanied by a wedding band. Engaged, but not wed yet.

Coffee, cream, no sugar.

"What about you?" asked Julia.

"Not for me," I answered, hoping it was the correct answer. I mentally rewound the conversation. I was lucky. They were talking about buying some pancakes. "I don't like pancakes, I prefer melons."

Julia's friend arched her back a little bit. She did have the bigger tits of the pair, but I knew that they were desperate enough that I could have them anytime. Both at the same time if I played them right.

Mystery girl wasn't lacking in the tits department, but her severe dress style did a decent job of hiding it. I could see that her shirt was too tight. The buttons were straining. The cloth was tight. The lines of her sports bra were visible. I was betting that she knew it, too.

The barmaid poured me a cup of coffee. I hadn't ordered it.

I looked up at her. She winked and gestured towards the back. Horny cunt. This one, though, was useful. Free drinks, and she doesn't throw me out if I fuck someone in the toilets.

I nodded, taking a sip. I made my apologies to Julia, ignored her friend, and went to get my dick sucked.

The kitchen in this place was big. Even with the gimmick, I doubt it was warranted. They'd probably make more money if the used some of this floor space for seating.

I looked down at the barmaid. Her baseball cap would make things difficult for her, so I took it off, uncovering her messy brown hair. Wouldn't be the first time I had cum in that hair and put the cap back on. I smashed led at the thought.

She smiled back, making eye contact with me while she unzipped my pants. Her eyes were brown, and full of lust. She was hungry for my cock, the slut.

I looked up at the security monitor. I could see the stranger sipping her coffee. She was looking around for something. Me, probably. She wanted it, too.

"If only Frank was this size," the waitress breathed, taking my cock out. She slid it into her mouth, and I sighed. Poor Frank, your wife is sucking my cock again.

I looked around at the back room. I'd been in here a lot since moving to this town. The first day I arrived, this cunt was on her knees for me. I had even screwed her and her mother, who was the manager, in here on the same shift one time. When they found out, they were pissed. Neither of them wanted anything to do with me. Didn't take long for them to agree to a three way, though.

She took me into her throat, and my reverie was broken. Say what you like about her, she could certainly suck a cock. Her tongue touched my nutsack and I involuntarily put my hands through her hair. I tilted my head back.

That's when I caught sight of the security monitor. Mystery girl was gone.

"Shit," I said aloud. The waitress thought that she was doing something right, but no. I was fucking pissed. The fucking waitress, with her deep fucking throat, had fucking distracted me. She was about to feel my rage.

I grabbed a handful of hair and started to fuck her face. Fucking slut. She deserved it. I heard her choke, and slammed my cock, hard, down her slut throat. She moaned between thrusts, and gagged when I rammed my cock in.

I decided that I needed more than just her slutty face to forgive this, so I pushed her back off my cock. She was gasping for breath when I turned her around and stood her up.

I didn't give her a chance to protest, but I knew she wouldn't if she could. She wanted this. I bent her over a serving table, lifted up her uniform skirt and tore her panties. She was soaking wet. I thought about just ramming my cock in, deep and forceful, but I wanted to enjoy this, and she wouldn't be able to handle that. I eased my cock into her slowly.

Her pussy was twitching already. I could feel her cunt clench about me as as slid more cock into her than her husband could ever hope to. She bit down on her cleaning cloth in an attempt to stay quiet, but I hadn't even started yet.

I was just more than halfway in, when I remembered why she was getting fucked like this. Enraged again, I slammed the rest of my length home. She'd only had this once before, and it had been painful then, too. Suddenly, I didn't care at all. She had pissed me off, the whore, even if she didn't know it.

I grabbed a handful of hair, pulling it back until she cried out, then I started to pound her cheating whore pussy with ball slapping force. The table scraped on the floor and she cried out again.

Despite the rough treatment, she was thrusting back. She couldn't stay quiet, and her body pulsed with every thrust. She must have come more than she ever had, and I knew that the patrons would hear her.

I also knew that at least one of the patrons knew her husband. Whatever, wimpy hubby wouldn't be able to do anything about it if he did find out.

With a final, deep thrust, I blasted her full of my cum. She deserved it, slut.

She came, hard, and I could feel her cunt do its best to milk the cum from my balls.

When I was happy that I had filled her cheating cunt, I pulled her up and growled into her ear,

"Clean it."

Without a word, she dropped to her knees and took my cock into her mouth. I grabbed her head and fucked her mouth until I felt myself begin to get hard again, then I pulled my cock out and walked to the door.

I walked out into the seating area, and made a show of zipping up my pants. I poured myself a coffee, aware of a room full of eyes on me.

I sat at the table vacated by mousey mystery girl. I didn't want everyone to see me searching for clues, but I had to find out what I could.

I put my cup down on the table. Then I saw it. There's a napkin with a lipstick kiss on it, folded into a triangle. I unfolded it, carefully. There was a message.

"2100 at the hotel bar"

I considered dressing the part. I wouldn't be out of place in the hotel bar whatever I wore, but I didn't want to look needy. Jeans and a shirt, then. And some nice shoes.

I walked into the bar at about nine thirty. I spotted Julia and her friend across the room. This time I ignored them both. There were a few more 'friends' of mine here, but I couldn't see mystery girl. Damn.

I walked to the bar and ordered an Old Fashioned. They couldn't really fuck that up, after all. Although, when I tasted it, I soon changed my mind.

"I thought you would have dressed better," said the mysterious girl, behind me.

"For this place?" I laughed, "I'm the classiest looking guy in here!"

"I'll give you that," she conceded, looking around.

"Drink?"

"Coffee."

I motioned the bartender

"Coffee with cream for the lady. No sugar."

"Observant," she complimented. "What else did you notice, I wonder."

"I noticed that your not married."

She did her best not to look flustered, but I saw that I had caught her by surprise. I started to move closer to her, just a little. I wanted to keep her off guard.

"When's the big day?" I pressed.

"It's not set, yet," she said, wringing her hands slightly. I moved closer again.

"A big day needs a big man," I said, preparing to undermine this unknown fiancé. "If he were big enough, he'd have set a date to marry such a beautiful woman."

She blushed.

"Is he?" I pressed, now completely invading her personal space. I bent down and almost whispered in her ear. "Is he big enough?"

There was a long pause. Pregnant, some might say. I breathed on her neck and goosebumps appeared.

"Richard Innes," she said, stepping back.

It was my turn to hide my agitation. She knew my full name. What was she here for? Was she police? I hadn't done anything to merit undercover police.

"I see that you have me at a disadvantage," I admitted. "Though my friends call me Big Dick."

"Indeed." She sounded more like police now than ever. I was a little worried.

"I have been following your trail for a while, Mr. Innes."

"A stalker?" I joked, still trying to figure her out. She had said "I", not "We". A private eye?

"Very droll." She didn't crack a smile. "I know about your sense of humour. I know a lot about you. For instance, I know that you don't really have any long term friends. How could you, if you move house every five years or so?"

I necked my drink. I was considering leaving. I hadn't come here to be interrogated. I wasn't sure she was worth it.

"All right," I said, "who are you, and what do you want."

"Who am I? Well, for now, let's stick with Miss Hunt." She smiled, looking pleased with herself. That probably wasn't her name. "As for what I want, I want to give you a gift. I want to show you how you have changed, and what has changed because of you. I want you to see what I have seen."

"You're not a cop, then." I said.

She shook her head, looking a little sheepish.

"Then I don't have to listen to this bullshit," I said, preparing to turn.

"No, you don't." she stepped in close and took my hand. She beckoned me to bend my head down to her, which I did. I had a wonderful view of her cleavage, which kept me interested for the moment.

"I know you're curious, Mr. Innes," she whispered, her large breasts heaving. "You want to know what's underneath. I can show you, if you let me."

I was pretty sure that the double entendre was intended. It was an obvious play. I wasn't taken in, so I stepped back, and raised my voice.

"What makes you think that I would PAY for it!" I exploded. "NO! Good bye!"

I strode off, not giving her a moment to regain her composure. I knew that she'd be looking around to see if anyone had heard the accusation. That's also how I knew she wouldn't notice that I had dipped her purse, and now had her ID and hotel key.

In fact, I had carefully measured my volume. I knew that the bar tender would hear me, and it had to be loud enough to worry her, but otherwise, only one table really had any risk of hearing. I still had my reputation, after all.

The bartender would have her ejected. It was more than his job was worth to have hookers in his bar. Security would be on the way. She would have to come back to her room, and that's where she would find me.

I used her key to get in, making sure I left the door cracked open. I needed her to be able to get in without her key. The more I thought about it, the dumber this idea was. I sat facing the door, so that she would know it was me, and not think I was there to rape her. That's not my style.

I checked her ID.

Doctor E. Pousey.

Certainly not Hunt.

And a doctor? Damn!

But, no first name. It could be Elizabeth, or Edith, or even Emmanuelle. I'd have to settle for Miss.

I put the card and keys down on the desk, and I waited.

As I expected, I didn't have to wait for long. I soon heard her fumbling through her bag, swearing when she couldn't find her key. I listened in the silence when she realised that the door was open.

Then I realised with horror what a mistake I had made. I heard the unmistakable sound of a gun being cocked.

It was too late to do anything, so I tried to stay calm and in control.

The door opened, and the barrel of the gun looked me in the eye. It was unsteady in her hands, but there was no doubt where it was pointed. Trembling, she stepped into the room, gun pointed at me the whole time, trembling. Then recognition dawned on her, and suddenly the gun stopped shaking. I was still staring down the barrel.

"Mr. Innes," she said, sounding completely calm. "This isn't the way I expected to do this, but it works."

"Miss P-"

"You don't get to speak, burglar." She smiled a crooked smile. "You get to do what I say."

She closed the door with her foot and kicked off her shoes.

I had never had a gun pointed at me before. It was a little worrying. She probably wasn't going to shoot, and I had seen enough movies to consider calling her bluff.

Those shoes, though. Who takes their shoes off in a situation like this? Someone who wants to keep them clean?

"Take down your pants," she instructed.

"Straight to the point," I said, cockily.

"Now!" She had more force behind her voice, but that gun was trembling again. She was nervous about something.

I started to untie my shoe.

"No!" she barked. I was a bad dog. "Keep those on. The pants, just the pants."

I did as instructed. I couldn't get them past my shoes, so they stayed around my ankles.

"They won't go any further," I told her.

The gun dropped to her side. She looked relieved again.

"Top drawer," she said, pointedly.

"Why, thank you." I responded, grabbing my cock through my boxer shorts.

"Fuck you, Richard," she snapped, unexpectedly. She pointed the gun at me again. "Open the top drawer and take out the file."

I didn't hesitate. I had no idea what this woman was capable of. I took a step towards the drawer, and fell over my pants like a clown. I instinctively put out my hands, but my elbow whacked the desk on the way down. It was painful.

"Get up." she ordered, unamused and unsympathetic.

"But-"

She put the gun barrel to my head, letting me feel the cold metal.

"Now." she said. She stepped back before I could even think about snatching her weapon. Not that I'd have had much of a chance. I felt like a clumsy fool at that moment.

I clambered up the drawers, dragging my pants tied feet closer. The top drawer slid open as I held it and almost hit me in the face.

"Fuck!" I grumbled, resting my ass on my feet for a moment. I pushed myself up using the desk and sat back on the chair.

My captor tutted, opened the drawer herself, and threw a heavy file into my lap. She gestured towards it with the gun. She looked more comfortable with it with each passing moment.

"Open it," she barked. I needed no more coaxing.

The file opened on a picture of a boy with his mother. He looked to be in his late teens. He had dark hair and was tall. He bore a passing resemblence to me, in fact.

The mother looked somehow familiar, too. She was a bit older than me, though. She was probably quite attractive in her younger days.

I looked up at Dr. Pousey.

"Turn the page," she instructed.

On the next page was a similar picture. It was a different lady, an different boy. The boy had similar features, and the lady was a similar age. Her hand was on his leg. They looked a little bit too affectionate, even for a mother and son.

"Keep going," Miss Pousey pressed.

The next page was the same, the following page had a couple and a teen who shared the lady's features, but had none of the man's.

The gun toting girl continued to insist that I turn pages. Each one contained a similar looking boy and a familiar looking woman. Some contained men, but most of them didn't look like family to the boy in n the picture.

I noticed that the boys were getting younger, and the women were, too. Then, suddenly.

"That's-" I snapped my fingers, trying to magically remember the woman's name. I'm no magician, however. "I don't remember her name, but I slept with her! In, umm, Ohio, about 10 years ago."

"Turn the page."

"Her, too." I said, "and her sister." I smiled.

"Page."

It was the sister. And her child. Who was about nine or ten years old. And looked like me.

I no longer needed prompting. The rest of the pages were of women I knew that I had been involved with. And their children. With my features.

I understood the implications, but as they became more and more recent, I also couldn't help remember the details.

Like this girl who sucked my cock behind the bar while I poured her husband's pint. Or the girl who was desperately trying to hide me from her mother, but her mother was trying to hide me from her, too. She even tasted her mother's pussy on my cock, once. She didn't say anything, though, in case I didn't come back.

Of course, these thoughts had an effect on me. I wasn't exactly covered up, so I tried to keep it under control. I tried to feel sad about being chased away from these women, but I wasn't. Even the thought of the gun wasn't enough to stop me getting hard at the thought of three sisters leaving their boyfriends holding the shopping bags to come and triple team me in a dressing room. Two of them were in this book, with kids, and their dumb boyfriends, too.

I knew that Dr. Pousey had noticed. I'm known for my size, so it's hard to miss, but more than that. I could hear the change in her breathing. Her mouth was open. She was breathing faster through excitement. More, though, she hadn't barked instructions for me to turn the page while I day dreamed. She had been having her own day dreams.

I turned my head, trying to get a peek at her without arousing her suspicion.

She sat there, open mouthed, staring. The gun lay forgotten on the bed. It was like she was hypnotised by my cock.

I considered my options for a second. I could risk bringing it to her. That'd be a high risk blowjob. I could touch myself and see how she reacted. I thought that had a low chance of success.

In the end, I decided to play the long game.