My Four Aces Ch. 02byJanus2FacedBoy©
Chapter 2: Kim's Diary
Note: This will make a whole lot more sense to you if you read Chapter One first . . . or maybe not. "Sense" is such a relative term.
Do me a favor-don't reprint, republish or upload this story to another source without my permission. If you choose to refuse me this favor, teams of ravenous attorneys will descend upon your duplicitous, plagiaristic, thieving ass. Or not. But I don't envy you your karma.
A quick summary of The Story So Far for the impatient: Paul gave his fairly new girlfriend, Kim, a dose of a mysterious powder called Q'injo, given to HIM by a buddy who swore that it was "the only true aphrodisiac in the world." It worked. What Paul doesn't realize is that Kim tasted his semen within the allotted one hour time frame of the powder's active phase, binding her to him for good (or certainly for lots of good sex). As Paul's buddy tells him, "the high of being with you becomes like the best sex-and-romance high ever and the withdrawal of being without you is worse than heroin and nicotine withdrawal combined."
December 5, 19--
OK, so that sounds really sappy and stupid, like something I would've written to you back in middle school, when I was in my musical theatre phase. But I've never felt anything like this before and the sex was the best I could ever imagine (And you know, diary, that even though I've only slept with one other guy, I can imagine A LOT!) My God, he's so BIG and so sweet and tender and masterful and strong and I lovehimlovehim-lovehimlovehim!!
OK. OK. I know, diary! You hate it when I just start in the middle like that, so I'll tell you the whole story.
You know, I've been writing you about Paul a lot lately. We'd been out a few times and I thought he was really terrific--fun and smart and a real gentleman too. Well, he wasn't moving very fast, which I thought was really sweet, but I'd kind of decided I'd like to go a little further. Not all the way, really, but, well, I kind of wanted to see if his lips felt as good on other parts of me as they did when we were kissing, if you know what I mean!!
Anyway, Sunday I was out shopping and this big storm came up. I was in Paul's neighborhood and was thinking of dropping by anyway, but then I got the idea that he might kind of like it if I let him play the hero and rescue me a little. Unfortunately, his phone was off the hook when I tried to call with pretend car trouble (he's such a football fan, he didn't want the game interrupted by phone calls!), so I had to go over there. I didn't have to try too hard to look like a damsel in distress since just walking from the car to his back door left me soaking wet. I pretended that all the thunder and lightning scared me and the streets were flooded--all of which was actually kind of true--and he let me come in and take a shower and gave me a little robe of his to put on. It was obviously something he'd had for a long time since it was way small on me. He must have outgrown it years ago. I think there are two kinds of guys in the world: the ones who don't keep anything long and the kind who never throw anything out.
Anyway, I laid down beside him and I don't know what happened, but I was just SO horny all of a sudden! Before I knew it, he was doing just what I wanted and then some, kissing me all over and down there and pushing into me and I came so hard I thought I might just faint. And the whole time, he was loving and gentle and wonderful.
I hope he'll be my Daddy, like I always told you I wanted. The only thing that was missing was, I would liked to have tasted him before he came but I got the next best thing. When we were done and he wasn't looking, I scooped a little of his cum onto my fingers and savored it as I was going to sleep. I don't think I even like licorice candy as much as I liked that!
I fell asleep for a while after that and when I woke up, my clothes were still too wet to wear, so I decided to put them in the dryer in his laundry room.
I grabbed everything that was hanging in the bathroom, tossed it in a little plastic laundry basket he kept under the sink, borrowed some quarters from Paul's change jar in the kitchen and, without even thinking about what I was wearing, went back through the bedroom and right out onto the back porch. The rain had stopped, so I hopped puddles as I made my way across the small parking lot to the laundry room.
On my way, I passed an older guy-probably about forty or so-who was hauling his groceries in from the car. I could see his eyes kind of widen as he saw me coming toward him and it suddenly hit me! I was outside in a skimpy robe and panties and nothing else! The rush hit me like-well, like the incredible set of orgasms I just had!
Suddenly, I could feel the damp air on every inch of my exposed skin-and there was a LOT of it! In, like, five seconds, the after-the-rain air wasn't the only thing that was damp. Paul's little robe was open to the waist, but pinned to my body by the pressure of the basket, so the guy with the groceries couldn't see my titties, but he could see the strip of skin between them. My legs and feet were bare and every time I jumped a puddle, the robe flipped up in back and showed off my butt. I looked back as I got to the laundry room door. He was standing in a puddle, two heavy bags of groceries in his arms, staring after me. He hadn't realized his bread had fallen off the top of one bag and into the puddle yet. I smiled, flipped my hair and ducked into the little laundromat.
There was someone in there ahead of me. This guy was even older than the man in the parking lot. Not ancient or anything, but with some gray in his hair and that softer tummy that doesn't quite overlap the belt, but would expand real fast if he ate one extra doughnut a week and missed his daily walks. He was handsome, in that older guy way-like Sean Connery or Harrison Ford. A hint of Old Spice, a polo shirt and dressy shorts with old deck shoes and a twinkle in the eye for a pretty young thing like me! You know the type. He did a double take when he saw me, too, and it was like a switch just flipped in my head (or somewhere a little further down). I was going to get this guy so hard, he'd have to go back to his place and relieve himself!
"Oh, were you about to start some laundry?" I asked, all sweet and flirty, looking him right in the eye. He was like, "Oh, no, just about done here." And it looked like he was. He was folding stuff right out of the two dryers into his big basket on the table.
He said, "Here, let me clear this one for you," and started to drop what he was doing and bend down to empty the bottom of the two stacked dryers. Before he could do it, I stopped him, dropped my basket and squatted down there myself, pulling out his stuff and handing it up to him. As I did that, the robe gaped open and he was looking right down at my boobies. No nipple was showing, but it was a near thing. And my head was right at his crotch when he leaned in to take the clothes from me, so I could see the growing "reaction."
Anyway, it only took me a couple of handfuls to get all his stuff out and I stayed down there while stuffing my own wet things in. He leaned in again to pull his next item out of the top dryer and I could see he was having to make an effort to arch over my head. I chose that moment to close the dryer door and "lose my balance" a little. I gave out a little squeak and reached for something to grab. Naturally, I had to grab something that was sticking out!
You should have seen him jump, diary! He almost whacked his head on the ceiling! And he let out a little yelp of his own that was on kind of a high note for a guy with such a deep voice.
I could tell I'd really embarrassed him and figured I'd better play it a little cooler. Besides, after what I'd just felt, I was ready for some more of Paul's special treatment. Still, I wasn't quite done with my game. I reached into the robe pocket, fumbled with the quarters and dropped one as I was putting them into the machine. It rolled under the bank of washers. I bent over to try and stop it, giving him a clear look at my thin silk panties stretched over my butt.
"Oh, shit!" was all I could say about losing the quarter. I'm not sure I sounded too convincing, but he didn't seem to notice. I couldn't stay bent over like that too long without making it really obvious what I was doing, so I knelt down on the cold tile floor to try and look under the machine for the missing quarter. I didn't really care all that much about the money, of course. I was paying attention to the guy above me, who shuffled a little closer and asked if I saw it. I sat up, my head again at about crotch height, and looked up at him pleadingly. A girl's best friend, in moments of crisis like this, are her eyelashes and some good flirting skills.
"No, it's way back under there, I guess."
"Well, here," he offered, scrounging in his own pocket, " let me give you one of mine."
And as he dug in his pocket, looking down at me, I let the tip of my tongue slip out and wet my lips just the teeniest bit, then looked straight at the tent he'd pitched in his tailored shorts. Oh, my GOD! I was sooo hot, just knowing that I'd caused that! I can't even tell you how tingly my pussy was and my nips felt like they were going to burn right through the velour robe. He handed me the quarter, finally, and I let him help me up so I'd have the excuse to lean into him just a little on the way up, grabbing his bare leg and exhaling a hot breath right on his dick as I rose. I held on to his arm just a touch longer than necessary, thanked him in that sincere, breathy way that always sends shivers up a man's spine, and turned around to shove that last quarter in the slot and start the dryer.
I was way past ready for something to be shoved into my slot by then and was out of that stuffy little room in a shot-with a last little coy glance back over my shoulder to him as the door closed.
I almost pounced on Paul when I got back to his room, and this time I got a really good taste of him!
December 11, 19-
So sorry I haven't been able to write for a few days. I've been busy and things with Paul have gotten SO wild and fun and serious all at the same time! I just can't BELIEVE some of the things I do for him and with him . . . and I don't think he's even scratched the surface of what I WANT to do, even though I could never tell my new Daddy that. Still, he always seems to know and just the tiniest little hint that I'm doing something that turns him on makes me SO wet!
I didn't get to see Paul for a few days after the weekend. We both had big tests that week and my mom kept coming up with stuff that we had to do as a family in the evenings. I got so HOT, though, thinking about Paul and dreaming about him.
At night, I played with myself before going to sleep and then, one night, it got so bad that I called him after I slid into bed, naked, and asked him to talk to me. I kind of lied and said I just needed to hear his voice so I could sleep, but what I really needed was to hear his sexy voice so I could get off like I hadn't managed to in DAYS. And it still wasn't enough. I realized that I needed to get him inside me before I was going to feel any real relief.
FINALLY, the weekend was coming up and Paul still hadn't said anything about getting together. Another guy asked me out, but I was, like, totally not interested-even though I thought he was kind of cute and, just a week before, I'd been flirting with him like crazy to get him to invite me to a party. But I really was hoping Paul would call, so I said no to Other Guy and waited. Mandy saw the whole thing and looked at me like I was totally gone. She'd listened to me talk about this guy for two hours a couple of weeks ago, when Paul and I were still in the preliminary stages of things and I was still planning to date around this year. After class, she asked me and I told her there was someone else, but not who. It just didn't feel right to say yet. Not until I saw him again.
On Friday, I was walking across campus on this beautiful, clear winter day, when I saw Paul coming toward me. If I were a guy, all I could think to say would be "wow!" I used to pride myself on my poetic streak, but all I can say is, I was SOAKING wet, and he was still twenty feet away!
He came up, smiling, very warm and sweet as always, He told me how beautiful I looked-and I did look good. It was kind of chilly, so I was wearing my slinky light sweater top, no bra-I just decided to toss all of them the other day, along with all my old panties. I don't know, it just seemed like time to get some new underwear, but when I went shopping, all I bought were thongs! Mandy REALLY wanted to know what was up then, or, as she put it, WHO was up. Still, it didn't feel right to tell her.
Anyway, I was also wearing my favorite low-rise jeans, so a little of my belly was exposed. He could probably see the top of my new thong panties if he watched my butt as I walked away. But he didn't let me walk away. He asked me to go to dinner with him that night!
I hope it wasn't TOO obvious that I was thrilled, but it was probably hard for him to miss my big smile, flirty eyelash batting and breathy "yes." God, diary, I embarrass myself SO much sometimes that, when I think of how stupid my little coy act must have looked, I turn red -- which is very funny, considering what happened a few minutes later.
But we'll get to that in a second. So, we're standing there on the sidewalk that runs alongside the quad, with the big oak trees dripping Spanish moss and stretching their shadows across this beautiful green lawn. I was feeling just incredibly lucky to be getting a date with this guy and realized, in that moment, that my feelings for him had really changed and deepened, just in the last few days. The other thing I was thinking was how impossible it would be for me to tell him what I'd been thinking about him the last few days and all the stuff I'd done while thinking of him and all the stuff I imagined him doing to me. And there was NO WAY any of that stuff or anything like it would ever happen, because nobody really DID things like that and, really, only dirty little girls even thought things like that-and they certainly never told their boyfriends.
In that moment, he touched my arm and whispered something in my ear. I don't remember what, but my eyes closed for a long second and that little shiver I'd felt earlier, when I'd first seen him, bounced from Down There to the top of my head and back a couple of times, making a couple of side trips to the tips of my toes. He looked at me with those gorgeous eyes of his and said, "Do you have a minute right now?"
Next thing I knew, we were slipping into the theatre building, where I spent a lot of time. During the day, they conducted a few classes on the main stage and that's where we headed, through a backstage door. I know I've written before about how cool this place is. It's this beautifully ornate playhouse built in the Thirties that they recently renovated. It only has around 400 seats, which means it's much smaller than most high school auditoriums, but it's sure a lot more sumptuous. Paul led me across the stage and down the aisle to the back of the house. (I know the layout pretty well in here, since I've ushered a couple of shows already this year. You know how whiney I am about the department policy that freshmen usher five times before they get on stage!)
At this time of day, the whole building was dim and cool, lit only by a handful of sconces and a low glow from these big chandeliers above the seats. Paul guided me upstairs, into the balcony.
We went all the way to the back row, which still commanded a great view of the empty stage-one show had just closed and set construction for the next production hadn't started yet. He shrugged out of his backpack and sat in the seat on the aisle, taking my books and putting them on the seat beside him, behind his backpack, so there was no room for me to sit or get by him into the row of seats. I stood next to him.
Anyone who walked onto the stage or into the first few rows on the main floor would be able to see us dimly, since the lights in the house weren't up, but still they could probably make out who it was. It wasn't a very big space. And right then, I didn't care.
My tummy was fluttery and I was afraid I was soaking through my jeans. I was IN one of my fantasies-to be on the verge of physical intimacy-of getting laid, okay?!!--in a public space, a space where people who KNEW me might see me, where the little slut who'd lived inside my head and heart and, yes, my pussy since I was old enough to have a sexual imagination would finally be exposed, literally and figuratively. How did this man, with whom I'd only been acquainted for a few weeks, know me so well? How was it that I was willing to let him lure my inner slut out of hiding?
I kicked off my shoes, getting ready for whatever was coming next. I couldn't wait to do what I thought he was about to ask me to do-but then he took it in a different direction than I imagined. One even MORE in tune with my rich fantasy life than I could believe.
"Take off your sweater," he said, in this deep, firm, powerful tone that further dampened my already damp pussy.
I took a deep, shuddery breath as I did what he commanded without even a second's hesitation!
My GOD, diary, I can't believe it even as I'm writing about it now. One minute, I'm walking to the library to do some research for my theatre history paper and the next, I was standing, topless, in a public place, absolutely dying for this yummy man to bend me over one of the plush theatre seats and slide his cock into me. My nipples, sensitive in the best of times, were like little pebbles-either from the super-cold, overly air-conditioned air or pure horniness, I couldn't say. I licked my lips in anticipation, sure he was about to ask me to suck him off, which I absolutely couldn't wait to do.
"Take off your jeans."
OhmyGOD! I did hesitate this time. His brow furrowed. I'd read that phrase in books, but never actually knew why it was supposed to indicate anything other than a headache--until I saw Paul do it. He has a very expressive brow!
The idea that someone might walk onto that stage and see us actually made it easier! (I can't believe I'm writing this, but I swear that's how it felt). But I'd waited too long. Paul wasn't pleased. Seeing his displeasure, my hands went to work and, in a few seconds, I was standing in front of him in just my new little green thong panties. If he asked me to go further, there was one more surprise for him. But before we could get to my surprise, he had one more for me.
"Face down across my lap."
It's hard to describe exactly what went through my mind right then. Looking him dead in the eyes, there was absolutely no way I was going to refuse anything he requested, commanded or even hinted at wanting me to do. At the same time, I was more frightened than I think I've ever been in my life-and more relieved. He was pushing me into a place that I'd never believed I could or would really go. So it's a scary place, but an incredibly liberating place at the same time. This man was going to give me what I had always craved, open up things in me that I thought I'd have to keep hidden forever. Somehow, he knew a part of me that I didn't think I'd ever be able to share with anyone-and I loved him for it. Not only loved him, but adored him.
The first blow of his bare palm of my butt was like a blessing. The slap of it echoed through the empty theatre. The sting of it went straight into my soul, fanning the fire that was already burning there into a roaring flame. My breath came in short, hungry gasps as the spanking continued. I know this all sounds kind of turgid and melodramatic, but I don't really have any other words to describe it. I whimpered and bit my lip, not because it hurt so badly, although it did, but because the pain opened me up with each jolt, made me truly ME than I'd ever allowed myself to be. That pain represented my liberation, even as it made me his without reservation.