Educating Shannon

When I was all the way in–finally all the way in–Rebecca's hand kept me there, pulling me toward her hard and letting Shannon grind her hips up and down mine while Rebecca licked above her hood. Shannon's panting was increasing, and she was incredibly hot. I leaned over and kissed Rebecca between the shoulder blades to the base of her neck, her skin hot and rippling from the sights and sensations coursing through her. After a moment, I felt Rebecca's hand pulling my ass cheeks apart and her fingertip brushing my ass, light as a feather then more insistent in the center, light twirling, press.

Shannon was grinding hard now, her breath coming in shorter pants, when Rebecca's finger broke through and pushed in my ass, her finger circling around before withdrawing a little and pushing in further. I leaned back and groaned, overcome with the sensation racing through my entire groin, my balls tightening and my cock twitching. Rebecca raised her head and looked at me. "Not yet," she said, her finger withdrawing and going back to squeezing my ass. With her finger's withdrawal my cock came back under control, and I began to slowly withdraw before pushing back to the hilt, holding it for a few seconds before repeating.

Shannon started bucking hard now, screaming with relief as I felt her pussy go crazy on my cock, her head turning away from Rebecca's pussy and locking onto her inner thigh as she groaned through another orgasm. Rebecca was tensing up as well, licking my cock and Shannon's clit feverishly, her hand picking up pace in Shannon's ass.

When Shannon's body went slack, Rebecca looked up into my eyes. "My turn, Erik," she said, "fuck me. Fuck me hard."

I nodded, slowly withdrawing, my cock quickly replaced by Rebecca's hungry tongue. I nearly sprinted around the bed while Shannon shifted her body down to make room for me. I got up behind Rebecca, my balls hanging over Shannon's face. Shannon averted her attention and took my balls into her mouth, one at a time, sucking gently, before licking around the base of my cock. She tugged it down and took it deep into her throat, her fingers rubbing Rebecca's soaking lips to make her ready.

I started pushing in further, faster, fucking Shannon's mouth, bending over and licking Rebecca's crinkled back hole, my tongue forming a spear and darting in and out. Rebecca was gasping, pushing her ass back onto my tongue, forcing me in deeper. "Yes," Rebecca said, "fuck me there. Fuck my ass." I pushed my tongue in harder. "Your cock," she panted, "I want your cock in my ass."

I quickly pulled my cock from Shannon's mouth, hearing a pop as she sucked to the very last. "Oh yes," Shannon moaned, "this is so fucking hot. Put it there." I reached over to the nightstand and grabbed a tube of lube, rubbing it generously up and down my cock before squeezing a great dollop onto Rebecca's ass and rubbing it thoroughly around and in. Rebecca was moaning in anticipation, her asshole spasming around my invading finger. Shannon reached her hands around and spread Rebecca's cheeks wide, and I placed the engorged head of my cock firmly against the relaxing knot of her sphincter.

"Let me do this," Rebecca panted, pushing back slowly. "Don't move."

I held still, one hand on her ass cheek, the other caressing her back, my eyes watching in wonder as she slowly pushed back, then forward a little, back a little further, forward. Shannon's tongue went back to Rebecca's pussy, and Rebecca started gasping, yelping in pleasure. "Oh yes, keep it up," she said, pushing back harder and keeping the pressure. After what seemed forever, her asshole loosened and the head of my cock popped in quickly, clenching like a vice around me. "Oooohhhh," she moaned, holding still for a moment before resuming the push, pull, push, pull. My cock was on fire, gloved by the warm sheath of her ass, squeezed by her tight sphincter, twitching in anticipation.

"Go slowly," Rebecca moaned, her facing plunging back to Shannon's wet sex. I did, pushing in a little deeper each time until I was finally balls deep and held it there. Rebecca pushed back against me hard, straining to get it in deeper still, and Shannon's mouth went to work on my balls, alternating between me and Rebecca, whose body started convulsing in a long, deep orgasm. "I'm cummmmmiiinnnngggg," she wailed, pulling forward suddenly before slamming back onto my cock all the way. Her body was on fire, and I could feel the rippling from her belly through to my cock, her asshole tightening and loosening, sucking me in and letting me out.

"Fuck her ass hard," Shannon encouraged, licking around my balls, her eyes glazed over with lust.

"Yes," Rebecca seconded, "fuck me harder." So I did, slamming back and forth for all I was worth, slowly for awhile, then like a piston. Rebecca was grunting from the force, her head moving back and forth between Shannon's legs. Then Shannon started to tighten, her toes curling out and her hip grinding up. She was cumming again, also, but her mouth never left Rebecca's pussy. I could hear them both sucking on each other, licking, moaning through their mouthfuls, gasping and panting. I felt the familiar tingling starting at my back and said, "I'm getting close."

"Shoot it in my ass," Rebecca said between licks, slamming back into me with greater force than ever. My balls started to tighten and I tried to hold it back, enjoying the sensations coursing through my nerve endings. Rebecca started to cum again, yet more forcefully this time. "Oh God, fuck my ass," she shouted, "fill my ass with your cum."

I built to a full boil and shot wave after wave of cum deep into her, pulling her ass back onto me deeply as I did so and holding her there. "Oh yes," she said, groaning and leaning forward, turning her cheek onto Shannon's pubis, her body slumping, spent.

Shannon's hands fell from Rebecca's ass and her arms flung straight out, her legs relaxing and stretching outward.

Still, I held my cock in Rebecca's ass, watching as it softened slowly before sliding out, her asshole re-sealing itself against its invader. I leaned forward and brushed kisses over Rebecca's back, causing her to shiver with the tingles. "That was fucking awesome," I murmured. Rebecca only smiled, her head not moving.

I felt Shannon shift out from under us, and I moved my legs to let her go. She turned on the bed and laid next to Rebecca, who lay there full out, catching her breath. "Thank you," she said, her lips brushing against Rebecca's lips.

Rebecca closed her eyes and kissed her back, draping her arm around Shannon's midsection and pulling her in closer. Shannon continued kissing her, occasionally nibbling or sucking on an earlobe.

Shannon reached her hand out to me and, when I took it, pulled me into them. I spooned behind Rebecca, stroking her arms and kissing the back and sides of her neck and shoulders.

Rebecca leaned over, and I heard her whisper into Shannon's ear. "I heard you talking before," she said, nibbling on Shannon's earlobe, blowing softly. "I know what you mean," she continued. "I feel dirty, too. Real dirty." She kissed lightly at the base of Shannon's neck before returning to her earlobe, sucking gently. "And." Suck gently. "I." Again. "Fucking." Again. "Love it." And she went back and kissed her full on the lips, snaking her tongue in briefly before breaking the kiss and turning over her shoulder, whereupon I kissed her long and deep, sliding my hand over the top of her hips and down to the cleft between her legs.

Shannon said nothing, opting instead to lower her head and suck in a nipple.

We laid like that for a few hours, licking, kissing, nibbling, stroking each other, our limbs entwined in a slowly writhing pile of heat. Just feeling each other, tasting each other, snuggling in our post coital bliss, enjoying the closeness and the comfort. I was spent by my last earth shattering orgasm, but not the girls. They each came a few more times, but more gradually, quietly, almost luxuriantly, enjoying the time it took and the feelings it raised.

A man could get used to this.

* * *

The next morning, the girls sat at my breakfast counter sipping coffee while I made French toast and bacon. They were dressed in panties and old dress shirts of mine, sleeves rolled up and buttoned low on the clefts in their breasts. I was in pajama bottoms and a t-shirt.

"I think we've seen enough to know what's there," Rebecca was saying. Shannon only nodded, looking at me for more.

I agreed. "Now's the time," I said. "Strike while the iron's hot. Go at them with a settlement offer–take it or leave it–and see what they do." "I agree," said Rebecca. "He'll be forced to take it."

"What about the evidence?" Shannon said.

"I'll call together a conference, us and them. We'll all sit around a table, and we'll present the offer. When they laugh, Rebecca will fetch the computer–already fired up, but no log in–and we'll put it on the table."

"So what do we demand?" Shannon said.

"A lot," I responded. And we discussed the specifics over breakfast.

* * *

On Tuesday afternoon, the conference was a reality, as was their response. When Rebecca placed the laptop on the table in front of Ron Hollis, he froze, his face white as a ghost.

"So?" said the leader of his three-man litigation team.

"Why don't you tell them what's on there, Mr. Hollis?" I said, my face impassive.

He only stared in response. His lawyer spoke again. "What is it?"

I only raised my eyebrow in response.

After a long minute of silence, Hollis spoke. "You didn't get onto it," he said. "It's password protected. Can't be broken." He looked at me, regaining his composure and confidence. "You're bluffing."

"Will someone please tell me what the fuck . . . ."

I cut off his lawyer by reaching over the table and pressing seven keys on the computer. Slowly, one by one, in front of Hollis. I stopped, looking him in the eye. "You want to hit the last one?"

He looked at me, fury in his eyes. Then he looked at Shannon, hatred snarling his lips. "You can't do this," he hissed. "I'll ruin you. I'll ruin all of you." He turned to his lawyer. "Is this admissible?"

"Is what admissible?" his lawyer said. "Nobody's bothered to tell me yet what this big display is all about."

"I'll tell you," Rebecca chirped up, reaching toward the computer. "Better yet, I'll show you."

Hollis snatched her wrist. "No," he said. "I'll take the deal." He pushed Rebecca's wrist away. "I'll take the fucking deal." He looked at me. "But I get this computer back." I nodded.

"How do I know you haven't made copies?" he said, his eyes narrowing.

"You don't," I responded.

"How do I know you won't tell the . . . ah . . . you know."

I shook my head. "Can't have you ruined. Wipe you out, you can't pay these generous terms you've agreed to, now can you?" I smiled. "But you may want to spend whatever money you have left guarding your former wife. Anything happens to her, even a scratch, and I'm releasing it. Got it?" Hollis nodded. "But no following, no harassing, no nothing. Not even a single fucking problem."

The lawyer cut in again. "You can't talk to him . . . ."

Hollis cut him off with an impatient wave of his arm. "Shut up," he said. "We lost."

The attorney looked at me–hell, all of his attorneys looked at me–wondering what was on that computer. I only shrugged and pushed the settlement documents forward, a pen lying on top. "Then sign," I said. "We'll schedule this for tomorrow morning and get it over with as quickly as possible."

* * *

The hearing the next morning was perfunctory, a mere formality necessary to enter the settlement documents and get the judge's signature on the judgment of divorce. When it was over, Shannon and I walked together down the hallway to our respective cars.

"Well," I said, "it's over."

"And quickly, too," she said. "A lot faster than you said it would be."

"Well, events kind've overtook us. And we had to run with them or lose our chance."

She only nodded, and we were silent in the elevator ride down and out the doors into the parking lot. As we neared her car, parked six or seven closer than mine, she stopped and turned to me.

"How much is left on the bill?" she said, her face a mask.

I shrugged. "Bout six, maybe sixty-one hundred."

She nodded and turned to unlock her car door. "I'll get you a check," she said, shutting the door behind her, starting her car, and driving off.

I had half expected this, of course. There was nothing forcing her to keep the deal once we were done. What was I going to do, sue her for chrissakes?

Still, not even a fucking thank you, a peck on the cheek. She hadn't changed a bit, I thought bitterly, and I mulled this over as I walked to my car and drove back to the office.

* * *

Saturday night I waited for her, hoping against hope she would honor our bargain. I had certainly kept up my part. In spades, actually. Hell, she was fucking rich now, and she had her kids and a very handsome allowance. She owed me.

But she didn't show, and I fell asleep on the couch at around midnight, suddenly feeling very alone.

* * *

Tuesday's mail brought, amongst a dozen other things, a plain white envelope bearing a check for seven grand, signed at the bottom "Shannon Ryan."

Oh well, at least she paid. Too much, actually, and I sent her a check back for a grand. I didn't want to owe her anything.

* * *

The following Saturday night I got home late, about eight thirty. A long day at the office working on some complex trusts for a disgustingly rich farm family trying to keep it away from Uncle Sam. I was tired and my head throbbed. I needed a drink.

I went to my den in search of a bottle of scotch and some aspirin. When I opened the door, she turned to face me.

"Hello, Erik," she said cooly, throwing a stack of pictures back on my desk. "I hope you don't mind, but I let myself in."

"What do you want, Shannon," I said, walking past her and behind my desk, opening a drawer and pulling out a bottle of scotch and two glasses. I held a glass up toward her and she nodded. I filled them both, three fingers, and slid one over toward her. "Well?"

She reached into her purse and pulled out my check. "I came to return this." She placed it on the desk in front of me, leaning low and giving me a peek down her dress at the tops of her tits, straining to be freed.

I looked back at her eyes and noticed she caught me looking. "I don't want it back, Shannon. We had a deal, and I didn't earn that." "Then think of is as a bonus," she said, sipping her scotch, crinkling her nose, and trying another sip.

I sucked some scotch in and let it sit there, the fiery liquid warming my mouth, its aroma traveling up my nasal passage. I put the glass back down. "No bonuses," I said. "I'm paid to do a job and I do it. I do it really well, I get paid what I quoted; I do it crappy, I still get paid the same. I, at least, keep my part of the bargain." I took another drink and watched her take the check and put it back in her purse.

"I kept my part," she said. "We had a deal, but you also said I could pay you if I didn't want to go through with it any more. And now I have the cash."

I nodded. "Yeah. Got me. Again." I finished my glass and poured another, my muscles relaxing and my headache subsiding.

Shannon took another sip and let it sit in her mouth this time, watching me as she did so. After the liquid slid down her slender throat, she spoke. "I've been thinking. A lot. I don't really know what that was all about is what I was thinking. The last month. Our . . . sessions." She raised her eyebrow, but I said nothing. "You see," she continued after a moment and another sip, "it took a lot of thinking to realize a few things. First, you have one hell of a memory. You remembered things we did–didn't do, actually–and said years ago." She put the glass down before her and curled her legs up in front of her, wrapping her arms around them. "And you used that knowledge against me."

I didn't say anything. What could I say? She was right.

"But then I realized something else." She grabbed the glass and took a longer drink, nearly finishing it off before sliding it back toward me. I poured some more, pushed it back to her side of the desk, and she continued, looking at the glass as she spoke. "I realized you didn't hurt me." She looked at me. "Yeah, I was humiliated at first. Especially the first time. But I'd never really done that before, you know, so openly. And I liked it, hell, loved it. And I'm pretty sure you knew I'd like it. Then the second time, you gave me what I'd always dreamed about. And you made sure the dream came true, better than my wildest dreams. Yeah, you spanked me and did things I'd never done, but you did it just enough to make it real, to make it–my dream, my fantasy–come true." A tear formed and started to roll down her cheeks. "I thought you were going to use me as your fuck toy. And to a certain degree, you did. But you made sure I got the full experience. Every time, it was all centered on me."

I pushed a box of kleenex toward her and she took one, dabbing at her tear ducts. She composed herself and took another drink of scotch, again letting it sit there before swallowing and sucking in air afterward. "This stuff is pretty good," she said. "I've never tried it." I nodded, still not saying anything. "Just like I'd never tried . . . well . . . the last time. But she was right, Rebecca was. It was dirty. What you were doing. But that was kind of the point, wasn't it? Not just the same old boring missionary fuck, but something new. New experiences, pleasures. New highs."

I didn't know what to say, so I said nothing, just smiled sadly.

"It's funny," she said, "but what took me longest to realize was just how good a person you are." She sniffled. "You didn't really think you were doing all of that for me. You probably saw it as an opportunity to try things you never tried, to hell with whether I'd like it or not. But deep down, in your soul, you couldn't bring yourself to really stick it to me, to really hurt me, degrade me. You never called me cunt or slut or whore or any of those things." She looked up, the tears starting. "And I'm pretty sure that's what you think of me, what you think I am." I shook my head, but she pressed forward. "Yes, you do. And you have every right to, the way I treated you. No, deep down, you still loved me, couldn't hurt me. Not really."

"And then I got this in the mail," she said, looking at the check sticking out the top of her purse. "And I realized something." She looked at me. "You know what that was?"

"You never said thank you," I said.

She nodded. "Those first two nights, you kept saying it. 'It's not all about you this time. This time it's all about me.' And then I get the check back, thinking I could buy you off, say thank you with money." She tucked her face into her knees, her voice lowering to a whisper. "But it wasn't about the money at all. Never was with you. I thought it was about getting even with me, but it wasn't even that, was it?" She looked back at me, through the top of her knees, and I shook my head.

"No," I said. "No, I just wanted to hear you say it. Maybe give me a hug and say it. And mean it."

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice hoarse, trying to break through her crying. "Thank you for my children. Thank you for the money, for the support, for the house. And thank you for getting that fucking bastard out of my life. And making him stay out."

I watched her, trying to bury her face, not able to look me in the eyes as she spoke.

"And I'm sorry for being such a rotten fucking bitch to you. I'm sorry for not . . . for . . . ." She couldn't say more, her sobbing now racking her shoulders.

I stood up, walked around the desk, and kneeled by her chair. I stroked her hair, rubbed her shoulders. "Come on," I said, uncomfortable. "Settle down, it's fine. Everything's fine now. You're safe, you've got the kids."