Intro: The exploits of a man whose given name fit him perfectly, Randy, and he certainly was that. He was a high-school history teacher and coach until he hit the lottery and retired early at 52. While he was not averse to returning flirtatious quips from the girls in his classes, he did avoid giving in to the urge, telling the more enticing of them to, "come see me after you graduate." Some did, but these stories deal with his life after hitting it big and building two houses; one along a river bluff 45 miles inland from the Atlantic Ocean and another on a secluded portion of the Northern Outer Banks, both equipped with playrooms. And he still had over a hundred million to spare. All characters are 18+ years of age. All stories can stand alone, but reading the series gives added insights and descriptions as it unfolds.
Synopsis: Flirt parlays chance encounter into discovery.
March, 2017 - River House
It had been almost three months since Randy's last time with Halley (previous story) and she was back at college. None of his other recent lays had found the urge or the nerve to make that trip down his wooded lane. He had gone into town to transfer some funds at the bank and stopped in at an sub shop for his supper. As he waited in line, he was mildly surprised to recognize a former student running the cash register.
She must be late twenties by now he thought, nicely tanned with small breasts. When tanned, her skin coloring always gave her an exotic look and was a marked contrast to her pearly white teeth. She was about 5'4" with a thin body and a trunk that was slightly longer than normal for her height, giving her hips a low-slung look.
Always walking the edge between right and wrong, she'd had several run-ins with law enforcement and several rumored sexual escapades. He remembered as well, there were bouts with various drugs in high school. Nevertheless, she was known by the faculty to be an above average student. They also knew that her best subject was salacious flirting. Her name was Megan.
When he got to the front of the line she placed both hands on the counter and pushed herself up to lean over it, so that her feet were off the ground and she was tilted over toward him, allowing him a glimpse down the undone buttons of her shirt, although there was not much to see.
"Hello Megan, how are you?"
"I'm good Coach, how 'bout you?" she smiled at him and answered in a deep, smoky voice that belied her smaller stature and gender.
He smiled back at her, "I'm good as well. I'll have a large steak and cheese all-the-way and a Pepsi or Coke, whichever y'all have."
"Pepsi," she confirmed and rung up his order, "That'll be $10.57." He paid and as he did, she let her forefinger linger on his hand as she took his twenty and returned his change.
Randy was unruffled, "Thanks Megan," and he dropped all the change in the tip jar, noting the dilation in her bloodshot eyes.
He took a seat in the dining area and watched the national sports show that was on the TV hanging on the wall. Out of the corner of his eye he was aware of her stealing looks his way as he waited.
She called his order before bagging it, which he realized as he arrived at the counter was a ploy to extend the time she had talk to him.
"You married yet?" she asked clumsily as she shook open the brown paper bag.
"Got a girlfriend?" she waded further into the deep water while placing the tip of her tongue on her front teeth and revealing the underside of a piercing stud.
"Nah," he replied with a smirk.
She pretended to search under the counter for napkins and a bag of chips and got neck deep as she bought time, "Don't you get lonely?" as she finally put the sought for items into the bag and handed him his order.
Taking the bag and drink, and seeing no one within earshot, he looked straight into her eyes and challenged quietly, "Who gets lonely with so many willing sluts to fuck, but it might be more than you could handle, I'd rock your world."
Momentarily flabbergasted, Megan was speechless and helplessly watched him walk out the door and to his car. After a moment she smiled and whispered to herself, "We'll see," and went back to check if any other orders were up.
He thought briefly of the encounter and his last line as he drove home. Heavy drug use was something he had no time for, though he did wonder how wild she really was for a tiny moment, before questioning why he had said it and then dismissing all of it out of hand.
A few weeks later Randy absentmindedly dialed the same place to put in a take-out order for his lunch. He knew it was Megan who answered the phone, but he did not acknowledge her, and she did not let on that she knew it was him, although she should have when he gave his last name and cell number. When he got there, Megan was delivering an order to a table and one of the cooks took his payment. He silently waved to her as he was leaving, not wanting to engage her again.
Later the evening, just as he was finishing cleaning up from supper, his cell phone rang. He checked it and, since the Caller ID did not show a name, he did not answer even though it was a local number.
Over the next thirty minutes the same number called his phone four more times. On the sixth call he decided it might be someone trying to reach him due to an emergency and answered.
"Damn, finally, what's a girl got to do to get a phone answered?" He recognized the voice instantly, it was Megan.
"Hello to you too Megan, how'd you get this number?"
She laughed on the other end of the call, "From your call-in order today dummy. Are you busy?"
She was being really bold, but he didn't mind that in most woman. Instantly he knew what she was after and ordinarily he would have maneuvered her over after the first encounter weeks ago, but he really didn't want to deal with her if she was still taking stuff. And then he had the thought that maybe it was best if he scared her off.
"No, not particularly busy. I was just gonna read some and call it a night. Why?"
"Read? That's boring. Why don't you let me come over and I'll show you how to party." She taunted.
He chuckled quietly into the phone, "Megan, I'm too old to party and besides, I told you that you couldn't handle me."
"Pfft, prove it," more taunting, "what was it you said last time? You'd rock my world? I don't think you can get it up old man."
Randy rolled his eyes on his end and decided that it was time for her comeuppance. He slowly drew out the first syllable of her name as he pressed the phone closer to his face, "Meeee-gan, don't write a check that your skinny little ass can't cash."
She let out a tinny laugh with her low voice and he knew then that she was high. He almost hung up, but she stopped him, "You've never been married, and I've never seen you with a woman, I think you're queer."
Randy paused for a long moment, so long that she asked if he were still there. When he finally replied, he was committed, "I don't fuck around Megan. When I fuck it's with purpose. I like to make women cum and then cum some more. But if you wanna find out what you really are, be here at 8 and be shaved," and he gave her the address, ending with, "But don't come unless I can do whatever I want to you, imagine the worst and you'd be wrong," and he ended the call.
Megan did not call back and after a half hour he decided that was that; that she had chickened out.
He was sitting in his living room reading the latest Daniel Silva novel when the security system alerted and broke his train of thought. He had a visitor on the way down the driveway. He opened the door to Megan, dressed in a yellow long-sleeved polo shirt and jeans, her medium brown hair with blonde highlights just touching her shoulders and framing her thin face. He immediately noticed her hard nipples poking through the yellow shirt.
"Hello Randy," she teased, and he stood aside to allow her entry and she walked into the foyer and took in the interior of the home.
"I heard you had money, but damn," and she turned to look at him.
"Just a second and I'll be right with you, go and have a seat on the couch," and he pointed deeper into the house and briefly excused himself to start the recording machines.
Stepping to the edge of the bar area to look at her in the living room he asked nonchalantly, "What brings you around Megan?"
She turned to look at him, confusion on her face, "Um, you said you'd rock my world. I don't think you can, so I came to find out."
Playing dumb, he retorted, "Oh yeah, that. Okay, be there in a second. Would you like something to drink?"
Still looking at him and her face telling the story that she was still confused she asked for a beer.
"Don't have beer. I have soft drinks, juice, water and wine."
"Really? You don't drink beer, but you have wine? Yeah, you're gay," and Randy shook his head side to side as she made her choice, "I guess wine will have to do."
This was not an encounter that he had expected tonight, and he was mentally going through numerous scenarios of what he wanted to do to her. Usually he had more time to plan, but this would be entirely off-the-cuff tonight and then he struck upon a possible use for a new piece that he had acquired and made up his mind. He retrieved a blue pill from a small bottle in the bar cabinet, wanting to make sure he gave this slut a long, hard ride and poured her some wine.
As he brought her the wine and a bottled water for him, he asked her, "So, you had nothing better to do with yourself tonight than to steal my phone number and call me?"
Megan shrugged and took a sip, "Hey, this is good," and she set the glass down and slapped her hands on her closed thighs and licked her lips before continuing, "Nope. You're it. I decided I needed to save you from homo-ism," and he rolled his eyes, "You're too good-looking of an old guy and you were too nice to me in school to let you be gay."
Randy watched the stud in her tongue as she talked and shook his head and thought. 'If this girl only knew.' The stud had a small white ball and was placed far back on her tongue, piercing the spot right before it tied to the floor of the mouth. Her eyes were blood-shot, and she was definitely floating on something.
"Megan," he warned, "be careful. You don't know what you're playing at. I break little girls like you," and she smirked back at him in disbelief.
"Un-huh, I bet. You're just scared of little ole me," and she grabbed at his crotch as he sat beside her.
Randy parried her attempt and several repeated ones that followed as she continued to taunt him. He had to admit, the tactic was working on him as he was getting more and more interested in banging her. He could see that his resistance was also influencing Megan as her face was beginning to grow red and her voice huskier. Or it may have been the drugs.
"Megan, I've always been curious," and her eyes showed her interest, "your voice, has it always been deep and raspy like that? Or did you acquire it by smoking cigarettes and dope or by sucking cock? Or all three maybe?"
She blew him off with the wave of a hand and a "pffttt" from her lips and took another slug of the wine.
Suddenly she changed tactics and stripped off her shirt, tossing it to the coffee table, and then she unbuttoned her jeans. She had a large tattoo of roses and thorns that ran down the underside of her left forearm and he caught a glimpse of something written on her right side in several lines of script, but it was on the other side of him so he could only see the first few lines.
He took in her small breasts that were somewhere between an A and B-cup, but closer to an A. They were crowned however, by huge nipples about the size of a sewing thimble and they were hard and stood out more than an inch from her breast. He could see that her belly button was also pierced with a three-inch dangle. It had the letters 'S-L-U-T' on it vertically.
'Well, she got that right,' he thought.
She continued her switch in tactics, "Well, if you won't play with me, guess I'll have to play with myself," and she snaked her far hand into her jeans and began to do just that. Randy could tell that she had no underwear on by the ease in which she slid her hand in and the smattering of pubic hair that was visible on either side her wrist. It wasn't untamed, as she had followed his instruction to a degree and shaved it tightly in some design, and he was curious what she had done.
Tattoos were a turn-off for him, always had been. Randy felt that they were a distraction, but he didn't stop her and just sat there looking on as she tried to get herself off.
Her hand was going intently at her snatch, diving as deep as her jeans would allow, but it obviously wasn't deep enough. Other than her breathing and a determined look, nothing about Megan changed.
Just as he decided that she was on some kind of uppers, she slowed her fingering and turned to him, "Hey, a girl could use a little help here," in that smoky voice and she broke into a huge grin as Randy rose from the couch.
He noted that she had kicked off her sneakers as he grabbed the hem of each leg of her jeans and stripped them off her legs forcefully with one pull, depositing them in a pile on the coffee table atop of her shirt.
Naked now, Megan made a big production of extending her tongue and swiping it across her upper lip, the underside of her tongue stud waving at him as she did. "Ooooo, big boy likes to play rough," and her face turned to wanton lust as she eyed his mid-section.
Randy looked down at her exposed crotch and saw that she had no tan lines and had used barber's clippers to shave her bush into a close-cropped V with the point aligned at her clit, directing the way like an arrow. He almost laughed but instead assumed a harsh tone.
"Cut the bullshit Megan and tell me what you want. Out with it or out with you."
Her face sobered instantly, but she had enough moxie to smile at him, "I want you to fuck me."
"And how do you want me to fuck you?" he asked, even harsher.
She swallowed hard, "Any way you want," and she slid from the couch in one fluid motion and kneeled before him, working his zipper and diving a hand in to retrieve his cock.
It took a second for her eyes to fly wide and her mouth to open in surprise. Her hands backed out of his fly and furiously attacked his belt buckle so that she could see if they had deceived her.
Randy looked down at her and demanded, "Don't take it out unless you intend to take it. All of it. In every hole."
He wasn't sure if what he said had even registered, but she didn't hesitate, instead sliding his pants down along with his boxers. Now freed, his blue pill aided cock extended itself up beside her face.
She was jolted and swallowed hard yet again; contemplating for the first time the enormity of the situation at hand.
Randy thought she was about to bolt, but after a few seconds of doubt, he could see the resolve as it came over her and she settled, placing both hands on his ten inches and holding it in front of her face. Even though he was only 90% erect, it still reached from her chin to above her forehead and her hands looked tiny as it took both to encircle his dick.
Megan began to stroke it with both hands, spitting on it for lubrication and became intrigued by the large ridge of his cockhead that was becoming more pronounced as she stoked. Instead of starting there, she ducked her head under and began to suck on Randy's balls. She was gentle with them, with just a noticeable pull as she took each into her mouth while she continued to stroke his dick.
He stood silently and slipped off his shoes while she worked. He then clasped his hands behind his back and continued to watch the opening act of the night.
'She does have a big mouth,' he thought. In addition to the metaphorical, she literally had a mouth that was extra wide for a woman her size.
When he decided it was time to move on, he teased her softly, "Come on little girl, is that all you got? All that talk. Put that big mouth of yours to use and let's get this show on the road."
She silently brought her mouth back to face his cock, considered it for a moment as she wiped her chin and then extended her jaws and engulfed the head as she drove it into her mouth with both hands on the base.
The feel of the white bead on the underside of his cock exerted a concentrated point of pressure there and she knew how to use it. Randy quickly realized that with the build-up of the evening and her obviously being an experienced cocksucker, it would not take long for his first orgasm of the night. But with the blue pill beginning to take effect, he was planning a long night.
She was working his cock hard and deep down her throat and although she was slightly gagging on it, it did not deter her as she continued with over half of it deep inside her.
Randy felt the preamble of his orgasm start in his balls and grabbed a fistful of the streaked brown hair at the back of Megan's head, pushing to the hilt and back as she grabbed his ass and held on tight.
When he began shooting off, he left his cock buried deep and she began to softly hit his thighs with her fists. She was running low on air, but he held her there until he had finished.
Once his cock had exited, he kept hold of her hair with one hand and bent over to push the cum that had leaked onto her chin into her mouth as she fought to recover.
He turned her loose and she collapsed back against the couch and continued to try to slow her breathing. Sliding a tray from beneath the couch beside her, Randy took a dog collar from it and held it out to her, "Put this on bitch."
She looked at it and smiled with cum still on her lips and did as she was told. Randy took a 6' leash from the tray and stood, sliding the tray back under the couch with a toe. He attached the leash to the center ring of the collar and used it to pull Megan to her feet, bringing her up on her toes and her face to within inches of his, "That was just the beginning," and her body fluttered while her drugged eyes shone wild with desire and she licked the last of the cum from her lips into her mouth.
He led her to the spiral staircase and made her go up first so he could whip her small but shapely ass with the leash as they went, bringing both her hands back to protect her stinging cheeks and accompanied by shrieks of pain and pleasure as they climbed.
When they got to the top, she spied the bathroom across the hall and asked to use it. Randy allowed her and went on to make things ready. When she hadn't returned after ten minutes, he became concerned, she was an addict after all, and went to check on her.
The idea of her having second thoughts entered his head, but when he got to the door, he heard the shower. He did not enter, instead he leaned against the wall and waited.
Five minutes later, when she exited buckling the collar back onto her throat, she was met by a stern look over crossed arms.
"You didn't take anymore dope, did you?" he asked in a harsh voice.
"No," defiantly. "But if I had something on me, I would have. Only thing I took was a shower. I had to do more than pee and you had run out of toilet paper, so I took a shower and used that thingy you had in there instead of wiping," even more defiantly.
He laughed, "My apologies for the oversight. Poor of me as a host. Did you just wash off with the thingy or did you stick it up your ass and clean yourself out?"
She stammered and stalled and then impishly danced around an answer, "What? That's what that's for?" and then with the slightest hint of a smile at the corners of her mouth, "I had no idea, but I'm not telling, you'll have to find out. Now, where we goin' to?'
Her hair was wet, and her tanned body still had the occasional tiny bead of water on it. An observation came as he extended an arm to his left and let her lead the way as the leash trailed behind her, 'As naturally slutty as she is, she can look sexy as hell without even trying. Damn shame about the drugs though.'