The Summer Associate

Over the running water, I heard Missy peeing in the toilet, and then a small fart. "Sorry," Missy giggled.

"Can you just get out?" I asked again, exasperated.

I heard her tear some toilet paper, and caught a glimpse in the mirror as she stood and pulled her shorts back up. I thought I might have seen a flash of dark pubes through the blurry curtain, and my cock swelled slightly. Quickly, I stood and turned around so Missy couldn't see my throbbing member.

"Bye, Jakey," she called in a sing-song voice as she left the bathroom.

As I heard the door click shut, my hand immediately returned to stroking. I tried to summon back my Laxmi fantasy, but my mind kept flashing between Missy, standing up from the toilet, her thick, muscular legs leading up to a full patch of dark hair, and the story she had told me the week before about her prom sort-of threesome. I desperately wanted to get her out of my head — what kind of sicko jacks off imagining his cousin naked or blowing some dude in a limo? — but the very wrongness of it only drove my lust harder. With a sudden rush of light-headedness, I shot my wad all over the shower wall.

*****

To this day I still don't know what, if anything, Missy saw that morning, but I have my suspicions. Either way things kept getting weirder. A week or two after the shower incident, I was (once more) out at a bar with a mixed group of summer and full-time lawyers, and found myself the target of the very same same Emily from my night at the strip club.

Over the weeks I had seen how, each time we went out, she seemed to pick a different summer associate and lavish her attentions on him. She didn't seem ever to go back to the same guy, and I never heard if anyone had managed to hook up with her. For my part, I figured there was no chance this was going to go anywhere since I couldn't really take her home with me. But still, why spoil the fun? There's a hot chick who wants to hang out, and as the evening progresses she's standing closer and closer, amping up the flirtation. So I kept at her over the course of the night, returning the flirtation and trying to see where I could get with her.

Around midnight the crowd started to thin out and Emily pulled me around to the far side of the bar, away from our co-workers. Pulling me down toward her, she kissed me hard. Her mouth tasted like vodka as she sucked on my tongue. Releasing me, she said, "Take me back to your place."

Shit. "I... can't," I started.

Emily gave me an incredulous look.

"I live with my aunt and uncle," I tried to explain.

"And they wait up for you to come home, checking curfew?" Emily was practically taunting me.

"No, it's just— "

"Do you have your own key?"

"Yes, but— "

"So your problem is..."

This is the point at which a little angel appears on my shoulder and starts lecturing me not to abuse my aunt's hospitality while a little devil on the other shoulder is helping me imagine plowing my cock into Emily's tight little pussy.

Needless to say, the devil succeeded in getting us out the door and into a cab headed for Lincoln Park. As soon as the cab started moving, Emily put her back to the door and hiked up her skirt. Her black stockings were just thigh-high, and she slid her panties down and off her feet. Smiling at me, she braced one foot against my leg and began rubbing her clit and running her fingers across her pussy lips. My eyes were glued to the half-inch-wide strip of curly black hair above her mound, her pale pink lips glistening as the streetlights flickered by. The whole time she kept her small, black, almond-shaped eyes fixed on me. The smell was now unmistakable throughout the cab, and I had to wonder what the driver was thinking about all of this.

"We're almost there," I whispered to Emily, who sat back up and straightened out her skirt. As the cab pulled up I reached for my wallet but Emily just shook her head and pulled a $20 bill from her purse. She motioned for me to open the door, and as I slid out I heard her say to the driver, "Keep the change," as she passed him the twenty and her damp panties. Best fare of the night, I thought.

I walked Emily around the side to the basement door and we went inside. To my relief, the basement was dark and quiet; if Missy was home, she was long asleep. I brought Emily to my room, which was really Kim's, hoping that if we kept the lights off she wouldn't notice the boy-band posters, fashion-magazine pages, and other trappings of a teenage girl's room. I needn't have worried so much, though, because as soon as we got into the room it became clear that Emily had one thing and one thing only on her mind. She practically tore my clothes off of me as she pushed me back down on the bed. Dropping her clothes to the floor, she climbed all the way up my body until her thighs were around my head.

Lowering down, she growled, "Eat my pussy." I was more than happy to oblige, dragging my tongue across the length of her slit. As I tasted her musky nectar she bent forward, bringing her clit in line with my mouth, and I went at it with gusto. As Emily's moans got deeper, I reached up to run my hands across her smooth skin. I slid them to the front, cupping her b-cup breasts and tweaking the nipples, then brought them around back and spread her ass cheeks wide.

After a good ten minutes, Emily lifted a leg over me and sat to one side. She reached down toward my cock and found all six inches of it as hard as ever (there are definitely advantages to being 25). Still holding my shaft, she straddled me again and put the head right at the entrance to her love tunnel. She circled her hips for a bit, wetting the tip of my cock, then pressed it against her clit and slid up and down the length of it, coating me with her slick juices. Positioning me back at her entrance again, she pressed down and in a single firm thrust took my entire length into her. Emily ground her clitoris against my pubic bone for a few moments and then, slowly, started riding my dick.

It was right around then that I thought I saw some movement out of the corner of my eye. Looking over, I saw the the door to my room was open about two inches and I couldn't help wondering, Did we forget to close the door? Or did someone just push it open slightly? A little light was filtering in the windows, but I couldn't see far enough into the hallway to know if someone was watching. Someone. Missy. If anyone was there, it had to be her.

Emily was bouncing harder now, and I reached around behind her and slapped her hard on the ass. I was surprised by how loud it sounded and started to worry that I had hit her too hard, that she would be upset, when she moaned, "Yeah," and started pumping harder. Right, this is the girl who started all the spanking at the strip club. I grabbed each of her butt cheeks and spread them apart; if Missy was where I thought she was, she would be able to see Emily's brown hole puckering and the shaft of my cock gliding in and out of her swollen pussy. I grazed her anal opening with a fingertip and Emily hissed, arching her back. So she likes anal play...

The next time Emily's stroke took her up, I slid my hands under her and lifted her all the way off of me. Pushing my fingers into her dripping snatch, I slathered her girl goo all across her ass crack and then pushed her back down on my shaft. Holding her all the way down onto me, I spread her ass again and pressed both of my lubed-up index fingers against her now-slippery butthole. Emily moaned and started grinding against me as I pressed both fingers into her back door. I kept pushing until I had the first knuckle of each finger solidly past her sphincter. As Emily started to stroke her pussy on my cock again, I slowly hooked my fingers and pulled them apart, stretching her asshole open.

"Yes," she groaned, "Oh fuck yes. Fuck yes, oh, fuck, yes."

I was panting too as Emily's tight little pussy clamped around my dick. I hadn't gotten laid in months and this crazy minx was definitely making it worth the wait. She was practically pounding me, ramming my cock into her over and over again as I spread her ass open. Sliding a hand between us, she started vigorously rubbing her fingers across her clit. She sat up a little as her other hand reached back for my balls, tugging them forcefully away from my body. I pulled a little harder against her anus and it gaped so my fingers were maybe an inch apart and then she came, whimpering in what seemed like an attempt not to scream.

"I'm going to come!" I called out in a whisper, and Emily doubled her pace on my cock as I let my fingers slip out of her anus. With a sharp grunt, I blew my load up Emily's hot insides, splashing my jizz against her cunt walls.

When my orgasm subsided, Emily rolled off me and lay back on the bed. I got up and put on my boxers. "I'm going to the bathroom, I'll be right back," I said. I slipped out into the hall, half-expecting to find Missy there, but the basement was as dark and quiet as it had been forty minutes earlier.

When I came back from the bedroom, I found Emily sitting on the bed with her bra and stockings already on, buttoning her shirt.

"You don't have to go," I said weakly.

Emily stood up, and I saw a thin line of my cum start to run down her thigh "If I wanted to snuggle, I would have gone home to my husband," she said coldly. She pulled on her skirt and zipped it.

"Your— wait, what?"

"My business, not yours. Don't get any ideas when I see you around the office tomorrow. This was a one-time thing." Kissing me, she added, "But you were great..." Smiling, she turned toward the door.

"Wait, do you need a cab or something?"

"I have an Uber car coming in..." Emily glanced at her phone. "Two minutes. I'll be fine." One last smile, and she was gone.

Exhausted, I collapsed into sleep.

*****

At the beginning of August, Paula and Gary took Eve up to Wisconsin to stay with friends at their lake house. Missy had no interest in going — the kids up there were all going to be Eve's age — and I had work, so we stayed back. Missy was already 18, so aside from one stern warning to Missy ("No boys!"), we were pretty much left to our own devices for the week.

Friday night was the big night for going out after work, but after my tryst with Emily I found I had lost my appetite for it; without a respectable place to bring the ladies home to, I didn't have the nerve to go after anyone else, and without any prospects of my own, sitting at a bar watching Emily zero in on her latest conquest — she seemed to get a different summer associate to take her home each Friday night, which I guess explains the weird treatment she was getting from her colleagues — it was just plain depressing. Ordinarily, I had to deal with the fact that my early arrival home on a Friday would no doubt have prompted questions from Aunt Paula — questions I had zero desire to answer. For a couple of weeks I had gone, on my own, to the movies or a jazz club until I figured it was late enough to slink home alone; with everyone but Missy gone, though, I decided enough was enough and I was going to just go home after the official group dinner ended.

I was expecting to find Missy alone, so I was surprised to hear giggling as I came into the basement. Walking into the hangout section of the basement, I saw that Missy indeed had company, but all girls so I guess she was still in compliance with Aunt Paula's strictures.

"HI JAKE!" Missy said, a little too loud, as I walked in. Another round of giggles from the four girls arrayed around her on the couches and pillows on the floor. The girls had plastic cups, and there was an open bottle of Malibu rum on the coffee table alongside a baggie of weed, rolling papers, and a ceramic dish with two or three joints' worth of ash. All of them were in pajamas, even though it was barely ten o'clock; Missy, sitting in the middle of the group on the floor, had on blue-gray scrub-type pants and a replica Led Zeppelin t-shirt.

I stood there in silence that stretched on a little too long, and the girls all started giggling again. I cleared my throat. "Aren't you going to introduce me?"

"Thiiiis," Missy said, still too loud and with way too much dramatic flair, "Is my coooousin JAKE!"

"I'm Renee," said the girl on the couch to my right. She had curly dark hair, green eyes, and freckles across her nose. She was wearing a pink ribbed cotton tank top that hung loosely over her chest — a 36C, if i had to guess — and Carolina-blue mesh shorts with the UNC logo. I can guess where you're headed in September, I thought as I nodded in acknowledgement.

"Anna," said the blonde on the other end of the couch from Renee. Anna. Slutty. Shaved pussy. Fucked her date in the limo and took a huge facial and tit-shot. She stared at me with gray eyes that seemed to dare me to try something with her. Anna's t-shirt had some cartoon princess on it and looked like she had had it since before she grew tits — Missy said they were 38E! — it was stretched lewdly across her boobs, making them look almost grotesque. Her black yoga pants went all the way to her ankles but left very little to the imagination; I was nearly certain that she had no underwear on.

The girl on the other couch had light brown hair with vibrant purple streaks, maybe shoulder length. She was dressed like Missy, scrubs and a t-shirt, but with tits so small they barely registered under the loose clothing. "Nice to meet you Jake," she said with a smile that was at once sweet and taunting. "I'm Sarah."

"And I'm Jessica," said the redhead on the floor below Sarah. Also from the limo. Boyfriend? Jessica was wearing short cotton shorts with a thin camisole, in a matching lavender color. The camisole straps were thin enough to prove that she was not wearing a bra, and I thought I could almost see the outline of wide, puffy nipples against the fabric.

"It's so good that you're here," Anna told me.

"Shut up!" Sarah hissed at her, and all the girls giggled again.

"Something I should know about?" I asked.

"Have a seat, relax, unwind after work, Jake," Jessica said in a voice that bordered on mockery. I sat down on a throw pillow next to her. Leaning over the coffee table, Jessica quickly rolled a new joint, lit it, and took a big hit. Exhaling, she passed the joint over to me.

What the hell? I pulled on the joint, and as I inhaled Jessica straddled my legs and started loosening my tie. The way she was leaning I could see straight down her camisole and between her medium-sized tits where they swelled together, and even the edges of pink areolae. I figured I had to catch up so I held on to the joint while Jessica removed my tie, slipped my jacket off, and unbuttoned the top two buttons on my shirt. Just before she went back to her previous seat, she slid her hands down my chest and onto my thighs.

I passed the joint up to Sarah. "Did I slumber into a stumble party?" The girls all laughed, and then it hit me what I had done, and I started laughing too.

Anna said, "We were just talking—"

"Stop it!" Sarah said.

"You stop it, bitch," Anna shot back.

"Slut."

"Cunt."

"Cumgargling asswhore!" Renee yelled out, and everyone started laughing again.

Before the others could catch our breath, Missy leaned over and said in a conspicuously loud stage whisper, "We were debating whether we should play 'Spin the Bottle' when you walked in."

"And?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Sarah said it didn't make sense because there weren't any guys," Renee replied.

"And here you are," Anna said with glee, "So we can play!"

I looked over my shoulder at Sarah, who blushed and looked away. Renee and Missy pushed the coffee table toward the couches to make more space on the floor, and the girls sat in a circle — except for Jessica, who hopped up onto the couch.

"I have a boyfriend," she offered. The other girls considered this, and then Anna shrugged, "Fair enough." Jessica lit up another joint, thinner than the last one, but kept it to herself, nursing it slowly.

Sarah, despite her reluctance, had joined the others in the circle. They motioned me toward an empty space they had left between Missy and Anna. As I took my place, Anna reached over for the Malibu bottle and set it on its side on the floor. From the hollow plink it made on the tile floor, it was clear they had long ago polished off the liquor.

"Rule #1," Anna began, "The bottle has to go around at least one full spin for the spin to count." We all nodded.

"Rule #2: No back-outs. Whoever the bottle points to when you spin, you kiss them, no questions asked." Nervous nodding.

"Rule #3: All kisses are on the lips or below the neck—" Giggles. "No peck-on-the-cheek bullshit."

"How do we know who goes first," Renee asked?

"Jessica should spin first," Missy said, "And whoever it lands on will spin first for the game."

Everyone agreed, so Jessica came down from the couch. She crouched between me and Missy and handed the lit joint my way. As she leaned over to grab the bottle, her shorts slid down a bit and I could see the top of her bare ass crack. The weed had clearly slowed my thought process because it hadn't yet occurred to me that it might be weird, or at least unusual, for a 25-year-old law student to be playing "Spin the Bottle" with four recent high school graduates, one of whom was his first cousin. In fact, I really wasn't thinking about anything beyond the pale expanse of Jessica's behind laid out before me and especially the fine red hairs that slowly condensed into a light trail pointing downward toward treasures still buried in her shorts.

Jessica gave the Malibu bottle a hard enough spin to send it around five or six times before it came to rest on Sarah. Jessica took the joint back from me and said, "Thanks," as she gave me a quick pat on the head. Then she went back to the couch, spread a blanket over her lap, and resumed smoking her joint.

Sarah reached forward and spun the bottle. It went around once, twice, and then settled on me. What are the chances? I thought. Sarah smiled, looking more relieved than anything else, and crawled toward me on her hands and knees. Here, at eye level, I noticed how round her eyes seemed, almost disproportionately large for her face, in a way that made her seem tender. Her small lips were full and her tongue flicked across her lower lip before she angled her head slightly and leaned in. At first our lips touched lightly, but when I moved toward her she responded by opening her mouth and allowing the tip of my tongue to dart inside. Sarah played her tongue across mine for a few seconds and then pulled away; as she moved back to her original seat, the other girls clapped and hooted. Blushing deeply, Sarah made a big show of bowing to her "audience."

All four girls looked at me expectantly as I reached for the bottle. Missy looked more than a little nervous, and truthfully I couldn't blame her. When Anna declared the "No back-outs" rule it had seemed reasonable in the abstract; but considering now that I had a 25% chance of tongue-kissing my first cousin, I wondered if I should have asked for a waiver from the outset.

In the end I was spared: the bottle went around and around, and finally landed on Renee. She flashed a victor's smile, but when I started to come toward her she motioned for me to stay put. Moving past Missy, Renee sat on my lap facing me, wrapping her meaty thighs and slender arms around me. Looking into her green eyes, I could feel her full, braless tits brushing against my chest. My cock began to swell as I felt her body so close to mine. Then, without warning, Renee practically attacked my mouth, pushing her tongue between my lips and squeezing her hips against my body. Reaching up from behind, I held her head in my hands and kissed her back. Between us, my hardening prick strained against my pants and periodically bumped against Renee's crotch, prompting small moans that (I think) only I could hear