29
"That's enough, cocksucker," Bartelli said.
Susan whimpered as she removed her mouth from his imposing pole, which
she had sucked back into throbbing erection. She had hoped he would come in her
mouth, as he had the first time she had sucked him off, a few days ago. She
wanted him to shoot his sticky sperm down her throat, and make her swallow it.
She would probably come again if he did that.
But Bartelli was turning over to lie on his stomach. His gross, hairy
buttocks were in front of her face.
"Okay, Miss Rich Bitch. Just like I said. Lick my ass out. And do a good
job of it, you hear?
Susan bent to her task. She put her hands on the fleshy cheeks and
spread them apart, exposing the puckered ring of his asshole. A stale, soiled
aroma drifted from it to her nostrils. She shivered, and brought her mouth to
it.
Bartelli jerked as her tongue touched him there, and when it began to
probe he gave a slight groan. "Oh, yeah," he said huskily. "That's the way,
lady. Lick that thing...Christ, yeah... get that little tongue right up
there...More...get it deeper, you whore...you shit-licker, deeper...Yeah...Oh,
yeah..."
Susan panted through her nose as she forced her tongue still harder into
the tight opening. Themore Bartelli swore at her, the more she needed to
pleasure him and debase herself. Look at me now, Dr. Alberts, she said silently.
And the thought of how she must look, crouching naked over this unpleasant lump
of a man, her face buried in his ass, mewling and gasping as her tongue wriggled
around in his anus, made her nipples tingle and her cunt twitch spasmodically.
Bartelli had begun to squirm under her ministrations. "Grab my dick," he
commanded.
Susan's right hand moved from his asschook to slide beneath his body.
She found his straining cock and curled her fingers around it. Automatically she
began to pump it rhythmically, while continuing the deep licking of his ass.
"Oh shit," Bartelli groaned. "Keep that up, you sweet little whore. Go
on, jerk me off. I want to come with your tongue up my ass."
She made a moaning sound that was half disappointment at the idea of his
cock wastefully ejaculating without being buried somewhere inside her, and half
pleasure at her degradation in being so callously used. The sound was muffled as
she pressed her mouth harder around his asshole, straining to dig her twisting
tongue yet deeper. Her hand kept moving on his cock, picking up speed when he
began to pant wheezingly.
"Oh Christ," he gasped out, his hips twisting. "Oh Jesus shit
Christ...I'm gonna come...Oh shit, that fucking tongue... Yeah...Now...NOW, YOU
DIRTY FUCKING CUNT!!...Aaahhhgghh..."
And with a strangled roar, he came, spewing his copious gism onto the
bed.
Susan released his cock and pushed herself back to the foot of the bed
on her hands and knees, breathing hard. Bartelli rolled onto his side. His semen
made a sticky puddle on the bedsheet. Still wheezing slightly from his orgasm,
he grinned at the glazed-eyed, stiff-nippled girl and pointed toward the little
puddle.
"You want it?" he said.
Susan swallowed, then nodded slowly.
"Okay," Bartelli said. "Eat it up, bitch."
A tiny sound escaped her as she crawled forward and lowered her face
toward the slimy wetness. The ends of her hair brushed over it, and then she was
lapping at it, hungrily scooping it up with her tongue, while Bartelli watched
her and laughed at her eager self-debasement.
"Christ, you're really bent, you know that, you fucking twat?" he
rasped. "Let's see you rub your face in it. Good and hard. Get it all over your
slutty face!"
And Susan obeyed him.
When he let her stop, she lay beside him, gasping and whimpering, her
face smeared and slimy with his sperm. It dripped from her lips and clogged her
nostrils and made little rivulets down her cheeks and into her hair.
"You happy now, Mrs. Garson?" Bartelli said mockingly. "I bet you are!
You're ready to pop off again, right? Or do I have to call you some more dirty
names first?" He laughed again.
Susan tried to speak, but coughed instead, and had to swallow some of
the sperm in her mouth before she could say anything. "I...I want...I need..."
"Spit it out, cocksucker."
"Tie me," Susan gasped. "Tie me up. Please..."
"Jesus Christ!" Bartelli said.
"Please!"
"The hell with that," he said. "I don't have time for those games."
"Oh, please...I need it...I want to be tied...Please!"
"No," Bartelli said.
Susan began to cry softly.
"Tell you what, though. I don't like to leave a high-class lady like you
all hung up. So why don't you just jerk yourself off. You do that, and I'll lie
here and watch. Let's see how many times you can bring yourself off. Do it!"
Still sobbing, but with a squirmy feeling of excitement at this new
humiliation, Susan slowly lowered a hand to her crotch. her legs moved apart,
and the hand slid between them. Under Bartelli's mocking gaze, she began to
stroke herself.
"And while you're doing that," Bartelli said, "you can tell me about how
disgusting I am, and how I make you throw up. And then you can tell me all the
things you want me to do to you next time."
And Susan did that too.
