tagMatureThe Newcomer

The Newcomer


A few months ago, Mandy showed up at the Tuesday night AA meeting in need of support. Don Manley "unofficially" took her under his wing. That meant he was taking her to a secluded spot in his truck and balling her after the meetings. He couldn't let any of the other AAs know he was working with her this way, because none of them would approve. Don's help was all unsanctioned.

Mandy was a lip biter. Nineteen. She had thin blonde hair and strong Nordic facial features. She often wore a vacant expression on her face, as if she'd just woken up from a deep sleep or smoked a bunch of pot.

Don found that empty look intoxicating.

As far as support went, Mandy didn't really need a lot. She just wanted to get some things off her chest. She needed someone to listen to her. Someone who wouldn't judge. Don's many years in AA had prepared him for just such an exchange. He had a sympathetic face, a tight sinewy body.

He was older than Mandy, and he was married, but that didn't matter. She was a newcomer, the most important person at the meeting.

Besides, Don liked helping newcomers.


Late on Tuesday nights, after the meeting, Don would slip his cock into Mandy. He quickly became the one person in her life who could accept her for who she was. In return, she offered him unfiltered access to her innermost thoughts and deeds.

In AA, you have to be willing to do whatever it takes to succeed.

Mandy was game!


That first night Mandy came to the meeting, she stood at the back of the room. She wouldn't look at anyone, wouldn't speak. After the meeting ended, she avoided all the women, a real task since the women always made a point to reach out to the new girls. But Mandy had nothing to say to a woman. What Mandy had to say was only for a man. She wore her light honey-blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail, a too-tight tank top stretched across ample breasts, and her midriff exposed. She stood off by herself in the parking lot chain-smoking cigarettes until most of the others were gone.

Don nodded goodnight to her and she made a beeline toward him.

"Have you ever done anything," she whispered, her voice thick with uncertainty and a touch of desperation. "And then later felt sorry you'd done it?"

Don grinned. Sweet young thing had gotten drunk and discovered a little sexpot hidden inside herself. Looking up at him, her eyes were a startling shade of blue. She looked terrified. Innocent. She had a smattering of freckles across her cheeks and the bridge of her nose.

"Many times," he assured her.

She grinned and shoved her hands into her back pockets. Her first confession dribbled out of her that night in fits and starts. Her boyfriend had taken her to a nightclub and they'd fought. He'd stormed out, but his roommate had been at the bar. The roommate had ordered her a drink, and when she'd taken out her wallet to pay for it, he'd insisted on paying instead. He'd said she could take care of him later. They'd danced until they were both hot and sweaty. When the band had taken a break, he'd invited her into the bathroom, telling her she could even up her tab.

Mandy fell silent, a sheepish smile on her face.

"It's okay," Don murmured. He knew about self-indulgence and wanted to set her at ease.

She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, her smile turning mischievous. Her thighs were packed into those jeans, a hint of belly fat rolled over the waistband.

She took a deep breath.

The roommate had locked the bathroom door and put his hands all over her. She'd liked it. Enjoyed having his hands on her boobs, her bottom, and the wet place between her legs. She used the words 'boobs' and 'bottom' but just wordlessly pointed to her crotch to indicate the other. She looked uncomfortable saying all this, and Don couldn't be sure if it was the idea that she enjoyed those touches that made her feel bad, or if confessing to him in the parking lot was making her uncomfortable. Her face flushed, her impish smile dried up. Don found himself staring at her cleavage, wondering how it would be to heft those big tits in his palms. Raising his eyes, he smiled at her. She bit her lip, ignoring where his eyes had been.

"We've all done it," he said.

She blurted out that she'd sucked the roommate's cock. It wasn't her first blowjob, she said, but it made her heart race. He'd stopped kissing her long enough to unzip his pants, and she'd felt obligated to kneel and take him in her mouth. Don nodded his head sympathetically, his cock swelling. Someone, she said, had begun pounding on the bathroom door, and she'd wanted to go somewhere else and finish up, but before she could suggest this or even take the cock from her mouth, the roommate had taken her head in his hands and filled her mouth with a hot load of cream.

She fumbled with her cigarettes. Her hands shook as she used the lighter.

Don smiled, shrugged. "You took care of your tab," he said.

She laughed, smoke curling out of her mouth. He laughed too. They both needed to laugh. His cock was rock hard. She hugged her arms across her chest, her nipples poking through the fabric of her shirt. Don was about to launch into his own story about infidelity, but she cut him off.

She wasn't finished telling him about her night at the club.

The roommate had opened the door and another man came into the bathroom, a good-looking black man. Tall and built, he'd looked at her hungrily. Started flirting with her. The roommate had gotten all hostile with the black guy, which (she said) had made her angry.

It was basically the same exact fight she'd had earlier with the boyfriend.

No man owned her, she said. Clutching her arms, she was looking across the parking lot, her jaw set. By now, her mood had completely changed. She was using her anger to pump herself up to say something.

This was why she came to the meeting. This was what she wanted to confess.

"Black guys?" she finally said, squinting up at Don.

He raised his brow.

Toying with her hair, she hid her face. She said something, but he couldn't make it out, and then she laughed nervously. Taking a deep breath, she looked him square in the face. "Black guys," she said again.

"They all have really big cocks," she whispered conspiratorially. Her cheeks flamed red, and she lowered her head.

Don chuckled. She'd had sex with a few big-dicked black guys to boot.

"You got a big story," he said. It was his gentle way of telling her she was a slut. More to the point, he was letting her know that he knew she was a slut, and that it was okay for her to be a slut.

He would accept that from her.

She nodded her head, tears welling in her eyes. She was only nineteen and needed someone to confide in (Don thought). Someone who was strong and wouldn't judge her. He told her it was good for her to talk, to get it all off her chest, but there was a better way for them to get through it.

She meekly nodded her head.

That was when Don decided to help her, to really commit to her. People tend to go in the direction they're headed. With Mandy, that would mean getting drunk and fucking a lot more men. You always want what you can't have. And for this adorable little teen that would mean dozens (if not hundreds) of emotionally unavailable men riding her pussy, ejaculating in her mouth, or both. Her self-esteem would plummet, and her only recourse would be to get drunk and fuck even more men. Don's job would be to listen to her confessions and then give her the positive reinforcement she needed. He would prop up her flagging self-image. It was harm reduction. He would encourage her to be as big a slutbag as she could, until she got all that nasty, whorish behavior out of her system. After the whoring, sweet little Mandy could move on to do whatever it was life had in store for her.

They got into his truck and he drove to a secluded spot.

"We're going to fuck," he announced, shutting the truck down and sliding the seat as far back as it would go. He said it would make it easier for her to say the things she needed to say about her night at the club.

"Are you sure?" Her breathing was heavy, her voice thick.

Don grinned. She wanted it.

She was huddled in the far corner of the cab, her feet swung up onto the seat. He put the radio on low, some AM talk station. He slipped his fingers into the waistband of her jeans and looked into her eyes. She smiled weakly, silently raising her hips to help him. He tugged her jeans to her knees, then pulled her panties down to meet them, then slid it all down to her ankles, just above her boots. She might as well have been hogtied. He manhandled her onto her back with her knees up at her chest. Tilting his head, he gazed at her bald mound, the pink rosebud of her ass. He rubbed her clit with his thumb and she groaned. He told her she was beautiful, his eyes locked onto the holes between her legs.

He made her wrap her arms around her legs to provide him better access. Her big boots hovered in the air between them.

He unzipped.

Stroking his cock, he murmured fatherly things. "Good girl," he said. "That's my little baby." He pressed the head of his cock against her pussy and then pushed, burying himself inside her warm, tight canal.

"That's a girl," he said. "This is what you're good for."

He gave her tiny thrusts.

She groaned, her voice rising in the quiet like a ghost. Her boots and knees filled the space between him and her head. He could hardly see her face, but that was perfect for a confession.

Mandy got right down to the difficult job of confessing.

The roommate had left her in the bathroom and the black guy had gone to stand at the urinal. He'd begged her to take his hand. She'd known she ought to leave, but she'd taken his hand instead.

She moved her boots and shifted her head to catch Don's eyes. She told him that her father was super strict about black guys. Don grinned. She wanted permission to fuck black men. He gave it to her. "You showed your daddy, honey."

A look of relief washed across Mandy's face.

"You're not like him," Don whispered. "You're better than your dad."

Don laid it on thick, so she wouldn't feel bad. He was empowering her to share all the details of her slutty behavior.

Mandy grinned.

She said that black guy had skin as dark as coal and a big toothy smile. He'd tugged her toward where he stood and placed her hand on his cock as he urinated. His cock had already been big and it was still growing. He'd whispered that she was beautiful. She hadn't believed him, but she hadn't wanted him to stop saying it either. He'd asked her to go into the parking lot with him, to protect her privacy, but she'd told him she didn't mind if there were others.

She craned her head past her boots, her eyes all big and looking for reassurance. Don had no qualms with providing it.

"One's never enough," he said, groping her tits.

The black guy had given her a funny look (like she was a slut) and then made her sit on the lip of the urinal. He'd put his cock in her mouth. As she'd begun the work, she could hear all the others coming into the bathroom. Soon a small crowd had gathered. Her voice was just a whisper and then she went quiet.

The only sounds in the cab were the wet squeaks coming from their union.

"How many?" Don asked.

He moved his hips until he heard her soft sobs and then those sobs turned to airy gasps.

She didn't really have a number.

She'd sucked off most of the men in the club that night. They'd come on her shirt, her face, and in her mouth. She'd stayed in the bathroom until her boyfriend finally came back for her. She'd been bent over a urinal, her skirt hiked up over her hips, a black man fucking her from behind. He'd slapped her hip to indicate that he was ready to come, and she'd spun around and squatted before him. Her boyfriend had been leaning against the sinks, watching her. It had taken her a minute to recognize it was him, and not just another guy in the line. By that time, the black guy had taken her by the hair, pointed his cock into her mouth, and came. Hot semen had splashed across her cheek.

She'd felt so ashamed of herself.

As the black guy zipped his pants, he'd said she was a good little fuck. He'd said it amiably. He had a deep Jamaican accent and she hadn't thought he was trying to be mean. He'd just wanted to pass on his impression of her. Her boyfriend had said nothing. She'd stood, wiping her face with her hands, her forearms. The grinning Jamaican had washed his hands and left. She'd slid her skirt down past her hips, back to a modest length. The boyfriend had looked at the mess on her dress, her disheveled hair and makeup. She'd stood there afraid to look at him, knowing he was judging her. Unable to stand it, she'd hunted around the bathroom, looking for her panties, her phone. Her purse. He'd led her out of the club by the hand and the patrons gave her a slow clap, a standing ovation. Her cheeks had burned with shame.

Mandy went quiet.

Her confession was over.

Don untied one of her boots, yanked it off, and tossed it onto the floor. His hard cock slipped out of her, all wet and sticky. She gave him a needy look. His own desires were driving him, but this was important, and he wanted to get it right. Freeing her foot from her pant leg, her legs sprang open. He fell on her, reached between his legs, and sank his cock deep into her cunt. Holding onto her shoulders, he pulled his hips back and gave her one good thrust.

She clamped her arms around him. Her ass came up off the seat, her back arching. She screamed her release. Her whole body went stiff for a few seconds and then she dropped back onto the seat in a sweaty heap.

She sobbed and gasped.

He stroked her for a bit. He tried to preserve the moment for as long as he could, but his cock was swollen, throbbing, and needed to be drained. He moved his hips, but she didn't want to be fucked anymore. She gasped and pushed at his shoulders. Working her knees up between his chest and hers, she even tried to claw at his face.

Don sat up.

His cock glistened in his lap.

Stumbling through an apology, she said her cunt was too sensitive and needed a rest. He looked at her stunning teenage body. Her tits heaved, her pink pussy lips were swollen, glistening wet, and all spread open like a flower. She'd cheated on her boyfriend and then given herself indiscriminately to a bar filled with men. He thought about that for a few seconds, tried to put himself in her shoes.


She looked at him.

"Did you leave anything out?" he asked.

She shook her head and mumbled something. She sat up, one boot on, the other off, her pants still down around her ankle. She reached down past her knees to fix her clothes.

He reached for her shoulder.

She turned to him.

He raised his brow, tilting his head. Everyone leaves something out.

She sighed, lowering her shoulders. Sitting back on the seat, she left her pants down at her ankles. She rubbed her palms over her thighs.

Her boyfriend had taken her home and gotten her drunk. He and his roommate had taken turns fucking her. They'd made her kneel in the bathroom and pissed in her mouth. They'd made her swallow it. They'd filled a mug with urine and had her drink it.

Don's cock throbbed.

She was hiding her face, looking at her feet. Her boyfriend had used her and then he threw her out of the apartment. That was a month ago.

She was living with her mom now.

"Hey," he said. He smiled. What was there to say? He reached for her hand, scooped it up, and squeezed it tight.

She leaned toward him, raising her face to his.

He thought about what she'd just confessed. He lowered his lips to hers. He could feel her hot breath on his chin.

He kissed her.

She drew herself over to his side of the truck.

"Hey," he said.

She raised her clear blue eyes. Even with all that she'd confessed, she still had a sweet innocent look.

"I need to come."

Her eyes widened with a sincere look of revelation. She sat up and looked into his lap, as if just noticing his hard penis.

"Put it in your mouth."

She scooted down and slid her warm mouth over his cock. He groaned with relief. He took her head in both his hands. He let go, flooding spunk into her mouth. He took a fistful of her hair and held her face to his groin.

Another huge spurt burst from his cock.

He grunted.

Another load, this time smaller.

He took his shaft and squeezed himself. She held his balls and moved her head back to give him room to milk his cock into her mouth. He sighed, letting go of her hair and fisting himself to get all the juice out.

She waited for him to stop, then rose, her mouth filled with cream.

He grinned at her, hoping she would swallow it. Suddenly his cell phone went off. It was his wife. He motioned for Mandy to keep quiet and took the call, his cock still hanging out of his pants.

Mandy swallowed.

She dressed herself, putting on her shoe, her pants. She sat silent and respectful, waiting for him to finish on the phone.

He took her back to the Tuesday night meeting. The parking lot was empty, except for her car. They traded phone numbers.

She reached for the door and he put his hand on her shoulder. "I'm glad you're out of your boyfriend's apartment," he said. "That didn't sound healthy."

She smiled weakly. Shrugged.

"The worst is over," he said. She settled back into her seat, into the comforting darkness of the truck. He said encouraging things to her. He said she was a beautiful girl, this time looking into her face. Mandy glowed with satisfaction. He told her she shouldn't be ashamed of her sex needs. He gave her his best for about twenty minutes, then he realized he had to go. He offered her a final parting suggestion. "In the beginning," he said, "some girls find it helpful to fuck ninety men in ninety days."

She stared at him. "Ninety men?"

He grinned. "Keeps your mind off the booze."

AA had no challenge for newcomer girls to fuck ninety men in ninety days, but Mandy was a slut, and Don hoped to inspire her.

"Anyone?" she asked.

"Anyone you like. Black guys (her eyes widened), white guys. Old guys, young guys. Fat, skinny, red-head, bald, tall, short. It really doesn't matter."

She had a huge grin on her face.

"Ninety days?" she asked.

"Consider it an investment." He pointed to her chest. "In yourself."

Mandy lit a cigarette and blew the smoke toward the windshield.

"There's not really any set rules, but you should avoid fucking the same guy twice. No relationships. This is your time to learn about you.

"Another thing, we say you should fuck ninety guys, but it doesn't necessarily have to be a guy. In fact, in the next ninety days you should really consider fucking at least two girls."

"Wow," she said.

Don wondered if she'd had a girl yet, but he didn't ask because he didn't want to pressure her. "And someone in an authority position."

Mandy raised her brow.

"Fuck one of your teachers. Suck off one of the managers where you work."

Mandy's ears flamed red.

Don laughed. "You tried that already, didn't you?" Fucking someone in an authority position wasn't exactly AA sanctioned, but Don had thrown it in on a whim. She was going to be fucking a lot of guys in the next few weeks, she might as well improve her grades or at least get a free tank of gas or something.

Mandy opened the door.

Don took her by the wrist. "No half measures, Mandy." He gave her his stern fatherly look. "If you fuck someone, let them come in your pussy or your mouth. If you suck someone off..."

He pointed his finger at her chest.

Mandy grinned. "Swallow it?"

He opened his hand, palm out. "You're going to make it, girl."

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