Sharon Goes Back to School Ch. 15C

"Oh, she is," Franklin sighed, and he began to pulse into Sharon's mouth, making her struggle to swallow his load.

"So you racist?" Allison challenged again, "Too good to share with the niggas?"

"Dude," Zeke cautioned, "Uncool."

"It's OK, Z," Scott said, "No, John... I figure having y'all here when I'm not home... not freaking when you're banging a slut while my mom's in the house... I think you know better." Sharon tensed, wondering if her son was about to step up and take his turn after all. "If you want to know why," Scott went on, "I'm sort of hoping to hook up with the freshman who's here for Christmas break with my mom."

"What?" Franklin had started to back off, and Sharon caught his ass in her hands, anchoring him in place as she bobbed her head, cleaning his softening prick, desperate to keep her face hidden. "You getting some from that hot brunette?"

"No... I mean not yet," Scott answered, the guys hooted, "But I think she likes me," he added defensively.

"It's cool, Scottie," Zeke said, "The guys haven't met Kelly or they'd be impressed."

"Thanks, Z," Scott said, "I'll be back down in a few minutes. Just keep it down, if my mom found you doing this she'd shit."

"I dunno, Scott," Allison answered, "Maybe she'd join in." Scott snorted, and Sharon heard him climb the stairs. Franklin fell away from her laughing.

"Dude," he nearly choked, "Maybe she'd join in?" Sharon glared at John, then glanced back at Marlin, angry that they were going to have to hurry up.

"Are you close, baby?" she cooed, and Marlin snorted, then shrugged.

"Guess I have to be." She blinked at that, surprised that he would admit to having such good control, even as he picked the pace up another notch, hammering against her ass.

"Oh, God, yes!" she groaned less than a minute later, forgetting why she was angry, forgetting the need to hurry, aware only of her imminent climax.

"Ahhhh," Marlin almost shouted, and the almost searing heat of his release buried deep inside of Sharon opened the floodgates on her own orgasm. Whining, head nodding encouragement, she pressed back against the young man until both were spent. When she sagged forward off of Marlin's still impressive cock, the other three clapped and whistled. Sharon giggled, the rolled up off of the ottoman, cupping a hand over her open, drooling cunt.

"Is there another way out of the basement?" Trevor asked calmly, handing her the thong, which she knew would do nothing to stem the flow of mingled jism from her well used seam. She shook her head.

"Unless I go out through the steps into the garage," she answered, "The alarm would beep when I go out and again when I come in through the garage."

"Wanna hide down here?" Zeke asked, "We can take him someplace to get a snack." Sharon had the sudden image of her hiding behind the couch while the guys 'forgot' she was there and sat watching television for a couple hours. Probably something pornographic if Allison had his way. She had donned the thong, too distracted to argue about what Zeke handed her. She tugged the slacks on one handed, releasing her sex only to raise them the last little bit, leaving a smear of semen over the zipper and button. She pulled the shirt and blouse on over the costume, not caring that it was untucked. She dashed up the stairs, fixing buttons as she went, pausing at the top of the stairs.

"Mom?" she heard Scott calling from across the house. She ran down the hall for the stairs, praying Scott was not in her bedroom.

"Scott?" she shouted back, reaching the top step and the safety of her bedroom a moment before her son came up the opposite stairwell.

"Mom?" he said again. Sharon had almost completed shutting the door.

"You were calling for me?" she asked, peeking through the door, keeping her body out of sight.

"Uhm, mom?" Scott was puzzled.

"Your friends went downstairs," she stammered, wishing she had told them she would admit knowing they were there."

"You saw them?"

"Well... Z- Trevor knocked, " Sharon shrugged, "And explained you were on your way home. I suggested they go watch TV in the basement, but I don't know who all is over," she paused, "Is there a problem? I was considering going for a run." Scott relaxed visibly.

"No, mom," he paused, "I just hoped you weren't uncomfortable."

"Because they're black?" she asked with a laugh, "I hang out with lots of black students at school," she managed not to blush or giggle at that, "But next time you might let me know first. Aren't you coming to church?" Scott shrugged.

"I talked to dad, and he said he wasn't going to be home, so I didn't think we were going."

"You should invite your friends," Sharon suggested without thinking about it, "We could all go, and then have dinner."

"I don't think they'd be interested," Scott said, we're just going to eat and see that new Accelerated Anger movie."

"OK," Sharon said in obvious frustration, "I guess we were bound to get too busy to keep doing a family Christmas Eve."

"We'll be home before midnight," Scott said defensively, and Sharon managed a smile.

"Home by 11," she said, wondering if she would be home by then. "Go have fun with your friends, but be safe," she said, then closed the door as Scott went down the staircase she had just come up.

Sighing, Sharon glanced at her disheveled appearance in the mirror. She wiped at her mouth self-consciously, wondering if the smears would clean out of her nice clothes. Glancing at the clock, she gasped, wishing she had time for a shower before she and Kelly went wherever they were headed. Tucking the stained clothes in the hamper, once again cupping a hand over her leaking sex, Sharon hobbled into the bathroom and douched, trying not to get distracted even when her clitoris sparked in response and resurgent need. Satisfied, she was cleaned up, Sharon slipped the tube of KY Jelly that she had bought while gift shopping in case Zeke demanded she come visit him at work again, squeezing a generous amount into her sex before repeating the process at her bottom. Whatever Dave was planning, she did not want to be too tender to sit down when they got home to celebrate Christmas eve.

She selected a thong with a lined, slightly wider crotch and the once tight jeans, pouting that it did not hug her ass like it had when she had bought it. She chose a padded cotton bra and a V-neck blouse, grabbed a North Face fleece, 3" heels, and her clutch purse. After tucking her cell into it, the recently used white wife hurried down the stairs, pausing in the kitchen. She hoped Kelly was not late getting back, worrying how Dave would react if they were not where they were supposed to be at five.

It was just after 4:30 and Sharon was considering texting Dave when she saw a silver gray car turn into their drive. She hurried out, not bothering to shout a good-bye to Scott, who she could hear laughing in the basement with the boys who had so recently been using her like a common slut. She shivered, admitting that at least part of the time that was exactly what she had been.

Kelly lowered her window, motioning for Sharon to climb in behind her, and Sharon did without ever thinking about the simple truth that she was trustingly climbing into a total stranger's car. Without so much as a nod, the young man deftly backed out of their drive and pulled away.

"Did you have a good day?" Kelly asked, turning to look back at Sharon, who could only shrug.

"Wait," Kelly said, looking at Sharon critically, "I know that look... You got fucked." Sharon blushed but nodded. "How... Who?"

"Zeke brought friends over," Sharon managed, stopping at that.

"While Scott and Catherine were home?!"

"No," Sharon shook her head, "Well, not at first."

"What?"

"My son was less than ten feet away while I was putting out to two strangers." Sharon squirmed in her seat, further embarrassed that talking about it was getting her hot. The driver checked her once for a long second in the mirror, then put his attention back on the road. "Thank God he didn't realize who it was his friends were fucking," she finished with total sincerity. The thought of being caught doing that... Sharon shuddered. "Uhm, where are we headed," she asked when Kelly did not ask for the gory details. Kelly opened her mouth as if to answer.

"It's a surprise," the young black man said in a fluid baritone." Kelly shut her mouth and turned back, looking out the windshield and the side window.

"And are introductions out of order?" Sharon was piqued at the boy's curt manner. His face turned to hers in the rear view mirror once again, "I'm Sharon," she continued, "Kelly and I are BZ Sisters at State."

"He knows that, silly," Kelly laughed, "He took me around to visit some of the alumni today." Sharon nodded, assuming she knew what that was about. "I think I have an internship arranged for the summer." She beamed at Sharon, "Can I crash with you if I get it?" Sharon found herself smiling at the idea and she nodded without hesitation. She decided not to ask just what getting the internship required, or what Kelly would be doing at work. She had a pretty good idea on both accounts, and wondered if she should be looking to do something like that when school was out... She would have to ask Dave about it.

Looking at her friend, she could understand why Scott would be trying to get her to notice him. Kelly was beautiful and funny and smart, and she exuded a sexuality that Sharon did not think had been apparent when she had first met her friend. She wondered if other people noticed the same thing in her, which was more than a little worrisome, considering many of her friends would be bold enough to ask. She reminded herself none of the ladies had seemed shocked or puzzled about a 'new Sharon' when they had gotten together after Thanksgiving. She was glad they would be having another get together during her break, so she could see if anyone seemed to notice anything.

The car was comfortable and quiet, and the young man at the wheel was confident and smoothly wove through the traffic on the highway, heading into the city instead of looping to the south. Sharon was a little surprised to see they were going almost 90.

"Uhm, isn't that a little fast?" she asked. The young man shrugged.

"Maybe. But if 5-0 doesn't complain, it don't matter."

"But you could get stopped?"

"I got you two for insurance if that happens," he answered with a leer, and Sharon twitched, her clit pulsing with a TWANG at the abrupt mental image of her on her knees blowing a state trooper on the side of the highway. Shaking the image away, she scolded herself; the driver was just kidding, police did not behave that way. She pressed the heel of her right hand against her sex, wondering how she could be so impossibly horny; mad at herself for being so insatiable, and angry and embarrassed by the pointed glance the driver gave her that he seemed to know she was considering masturbating there in the back seat of his car. She told herself it was her imagination-- Kelly was completely unaware.

The driver pressed a button on the steering wheel and the car was instantly filled with the bass heavy riff of a hip hop number Sharon and Kelly had danced to regularly. Sharon licked her lips, remembering the last time they had been together on stage, and how alive she had felt, making Kelly writhe and scream in pleasure in front of a hundred odd men. TWANG. She bit her lip, forcing herself to pay attention to the monotony of the passing concrete barriers to the right of the sedan, and the empty tracks of the rail yard west of the city. As they came into downtown, the young man deftly slid up the left exit under the convention center, and Sharon momentarily absurdly flashed on her last trip to the nearby Auditorium. Chris had taken the family to see the traveling Wicked show. She giggled, wondering if they were going to see whatever was playing for the holiday.

The driver looked back at her, and she was sure he wondered about her, even though she could not see his eyes through the dark glasses. She almost growled at him, she was suddenly so angry that he had interrupted her memory... or fantasy... or whatever it had been. She smiled, but it was cruel, the blonde housewife imagining riding the young driver as he begged her to stop.

She blinked and looked around as the sedan slowed, turning into a small parking lot south of a five story brick building. She glanced up at the neon sign on the building's corner: 'Hot Rockets' it read, with a cartoon missile being ridden by a busty blonde blowing a huge pink bubble over the bright red letters. There was a spot reserved for the little car, and Sharon did not protest when the driver hurried them inside. Each step between the car and the entrance, she was sure a passing car would be friends who would see her. The persistent willingness to ruin her life fueled her anger, and she glared at the big bouncers riding stools to either side of the club entrance.

"What. The fuck. Are we doing here?" she hissed at Kelly, who seemed totally at ease with the situation. Her young lover shrugged.

"Dave said to be here," Kelly pointed to the poster over the door into the club. It showed she and Sharon spinning on the pole, with smaller photos at the bottom as men tucked bills into their G-strings, the women jutting their bottoms lewdly over the edge of the stage, of the women intertwined, each with a leg straight up, arms barely covering their bare chests, and a soulful kiss that was more then just the act, closer to the end of the women's ground work at Go's. Sharon stared at the poster in horror; it was obviously her in two of the pictures. Someone was going to see. She turned, realizing that the windows above the door meant that people driving north could see...

"That has to come down!" she nearly screamed at the bouncers and Kelly. Everyone stopped, looking at the unhinged blonde who looked like she might climb the wall to reach the big flyer.

"Whoa, whoa whoa," Dave said, coming out of a hidden door opposite the cashier's booth. He draped his arms around Sharon and Kelly, maneuvering them back toward the passage he had just exited, "What seems to be the problem, Shar?"

"That poster," Sharon did not move right away, "That has to come down. Someone will see."

"That's the general idea," Dave rolled his eyes at Kelly, "We wanted your fans to know there was going to be a special show."

"Chris could see... Or someone who knows us!" Dave snorted.

"A car passing at 30 miles per hour? The worst they would think is that it looks like you, Sharon. You're a suburban housewife and mother here, not a porn star." Sharon spun out of Dave's grasp.

"I'm not a porn star," she nearly shouted. "Fuck you for saying it! You know I'm not. I just wanted to go to school," Sharon's eyes were wide, "I just want to protect my family."

"And you are," Dave assured her, herding both women down the hall, "This protects your family."

"Bullshit!" Sharon was not backing down. "This will ruin everything."

"No one here knows you," Dave insisted, "And we all know this is not just about protecting your family, any more."

"You bastard!" Sharon stopped, eyes wide, and reversed course, "I have to get home." Dave swatted Kelly's bottom and the surprised young brunette dutifully stepped through a curtain at the end of the hall. Dave easily caught Sharon's elbow, halting her retreat. "Let go of me!" Sharon yanked her arm with surprising force, freeing herself momentarily. Dave caught her arm again, though, getting a handful of her hair with his other hand. Sharon responded by kicking at him, and the big frat brother barely managed to lift his knee, blocking her attempt to reach his groin.

"Enough!" he spun the smaller spitfire of a woman against one of the narrow hall's walls. "Don't do something you'll regret."

"I already regret this!" Sharon almost wailed, "You bastards have ruined my life."

"Uh-huh," Dave said, "It's why you were coming like mad in your basement not an hour ago." Sharon's breath caught. How could he know about that. "Face it, you're hooked on black cock," he continued, "You may not want to cheat, but if we weren't providing you with it now, you'd be out looking for some satisfaction where hubby will find out." Sharon shivered in his grip. She wondered if what he was saying was true. She hated the way her body was responding to what was happening and what he was saying. How had she become such a slut?

He half pulled, half dragged her through the curtain, pushing her unceremoniously into a nearby director's seat. Sharon realized it was the dressing room. There were more vanities then there were at Go's, but most were empty. She saw that Kelly was already in costume, a matching outfit neatly folded on the vanity to her left, where Dave had seated Sharon.

"Care to tell me what's gotten into you of late?" Dave did not let up, and had not let go, his hand still gripping Sharon's hair. "Better speak up," he warned, "There are always worse things you could be doing..." Sharon sniffed, and glared straight ahead, refusing to look Dave in the eye.

"We're dancing too much," she said, "There's not enough time to even eat... We're either dancing or exercising or tanning or fucking TA's." She tugged at her loose jeans, then pointed out how loose her bra had become, "I'm wasting away... Some days I think I'm sick."

"That's why you're mad?" Dave asked pointedly. Sniffing angrily, Sharon nodded. "Bullshit," the big frat brother snorted, "I know what's happening to you now. You don't need to lie anymore." Sharon frowned in puzzlement.

"What are you talking about?" she said, "I wanted a break for Christmas. Go said we could take the time off..."

"Go doesn't call all the shots," Dave warned, "And you've gotten a break... and you've gotten to cum in your own house like you haven't since I was there with you." Sharon blushed at that, and her clit sparked hungrily. How could he know about that, she wondered, getting angry at knowing so little that was going on in her own life. She stamped a foot.

"This wasn't part of the deal," Sharon changed tack, "You never said I'd be dancing in my home town."

"Stripping in your home town," Dave corrected her with a cruel sneer, "You'll be stripping and you've been doing more, so cut the bullshit." Sharon sucked in a breath, glaring at the younger man angrily. "And that's still not it," he let a little anger creep into his voice, "I Hate it when BZ Bitches think they can lie to us." Sharon blinked, stepping back in surprise.

"I'm not lying!" she retorted angrily, "I didn't ask to have sex with those boys today."

"You didn't stop it from happening, either," Dave pointed out, aware that the helpless housewife never really had that choice. "You are going to perform tonight," he warned her, "The sooner you start, the sooner I'll have you home. Or I can just leave and you two can find your own way back home." Sharon looked ready to attack him. He pulled her Demoness mask out of the bag he had brought along, "And if you give me any more lip... If you lie when I ask you something, you won't get to wear this."

Sharon hated the relief she felt at seeing the mask... at her willingness to give in and dance if he gave her the mask. Damn it, she was actually wet at the prospect, she realized with a fresh sense of outrage. She reached for the mask, but Dave yanked it back.

"I asked you why you're mad." Sharon shrugged. Thought about it for a moment, and shrugged again. "That's not an answer," Dave warned, and moved to put the mask back in the pack.

"Wait!" Sharon demanded with another useless foot stomp. "I don't know," she added plaintively after almost another minute, "I just... I'm just angry more suddenly." Dave stared at her for a moment.

It was donning on the frat member that quite likely their prize bitch truly did not understand. He shook his head, amazed that anyone could be so foolish, but relieved as well-- it was how they harnessed so many young women, after all. He kept hold of the mask, but retrieved a zip lock bag he had brought along, holding it up in front of the married blonde sex toy.