The Tutor Pt. 01

"How long do I have to keep this in?" Jen asked, knowing full well that she was enjoying it far too much to take it out anyway.

"Until you get home. Then, you can finish yourself with your fingers," Hunter directed. He kissed her, opened the door, and gave her ass a pat as she shuffled out. Jen turned away from the closed door and headed for the stairs, glad Mr. Davies wasn't there to see her awkward first steps.

It was rare to be alone in the house with Hunter. Usually, his dad was home, watching TV in the den. They'd gotten home early today, though, and Mr. Davies had not yet come home. Jen took advantage of the solitude to wander the first floor and get used to walking with the egg.

She was in the den when her luck ran out. The front door slammed, and Mr. Davies, still in his police blues, belt, and hat came toward her. His wide frame filled the doorway of the den as he approached, making the room even darker than before. His broad shoulders, square jaw, and firm chest made him what the girls sometimes called "dad-candy," but this was lost on Jen, whose fear reached a fever pitch.

"Jen? What are you doing back here?" The den was Mr. Davies' domain, and Jen had never entered it. Even Hunter usually avoided it. "Is Hunter home?"

"Y-y-yes, sir. He's upstairs. I was, um, just, uh, leaving," Jen replied. She was hyper-conscious of the older man and the subtle vibrations inside her body, and she struggled to get a word out.

"Is something wrong?" he asked, arching an eyebrow.

"No, sir, I uh. Um. I just, mm, need to get home," she said, a bead of sweat falling down her cheek.

"Then by all mean," he replied, eyeing her suspiciously but stepping aside. Jen started for the hall, every muscle in her body quivering from exertion as she fought to keep it together and get out of the house. It wasn't working.

"You alright, girl? You're walking a little funny, if you don't mind me saying," he observed.

"Yes, I'm fine, it's just a - -" Jen's voice caught in her throat as the vibrations of the egg suddenly shifted to maximum intensity inside her. Hunter had chosen precisely the wrong moment to turn it up, and Jen lost all sense of where she was. She moaned, clamped her legs together and clutched the doorway to stay on her shaky feet.

"Jen!" Mr. Davies moved quickly to catch her by her arms. "What the hell is going on here?!" They both grew quiet. Jen bit her lip and shut her eyes tight as she realized with horror that the only noise in the room now was an audible whirring coming from beneath her skirt.

"What the fuck is that?" Mr. Davies demanded, with growing anger. "Are you trying to steal something from me?! Huh?!! You little thief! What are you hiding?!" With a hard shove, Jen landed on the couch with her face in the pillows, her legs splayed, and her skirt dangerously close to revealing her ass.

"It's not bad enough I have to deal with thieves and liars at work all day, now I have to come home and deal with some little whore stealing from me, too?!" he boomed. He dove after Jen, grabbing at her legs. "What the fuck are you hiding, you little bitch?!" Jen flailed her legs and struggled against him.

"Nothing!" she yelled. "I didn't take anything!" She struggled to keep her legs together and her skirt down, but the older man was much more powerful. She kicked and flailed as best she could as he tried to gain control. As he did, her skirt flipped up over her ass, and she knew he could see her black panties. With a scream, Jen cried out as Mr. Davies' hand smashed against her now uncovered ass.

"Don't you fucking fight me," he demanded, spanking her ass again. Despite other similarities between them, one clear difference between Hunter and his dad was their hands. Where Hunter's long, lean fingers were smooth and smart against her ass, his father's hand was meaty, rough, and brutally painful. He brought it down over and over again on her ass, forcing her body into the couch with every blow.

Mr. Davies held her tightly, shoving her face down into the pillows to muffle her choked sobs. He spanked each cheek with powerful force, and Jen noticed that each smack forced the egg to shudder inside her. Cursing Hunter, she realized that he had not turned the intensity down yet. Mr. Davies watched her tight ass quiver as he spanked it and felt himself growing harder as her skin grew redder. This little slut had stolen something and had lied to him and deserved to be punished. And if the muffled sounds he had heard from his son's bedroom over the last few weeks were any indication, he was sure she was used to it.

"Never. Pull away. From me. Again." He stated clearly and pointedly, each word echoing in her ears as he continued to punish her ass. Finally, he stopped, and she heard him as if from a distance as he said, "Well? What do we have here? Think I want go there, miss? Think just because something's down in your little panties that it's beyond my reach? Think again, slut."

Jen's cheeks flamed red with shame as the older man lifted her hips and slid her panties off her ass. Fear filled her whole body as she felt him grab hold of the lanyard and slowly pull the egg out of her pussy. Her now empty cunt felt abandoned, and her muscles instinctively clenched around nothing.

"What is this, little missy? Walking around my house and getting off? Is that how you act in front of a parent, you little slut?" he mocked her. "I don't know who the fuck you think you are, but you're going to follow the rules around here, whore. Yes, you are," he said with a sneer. Jen whimpered in response.

"Oh, what's the matter?" he asked in mock concern. "Are you feeling empty now, slut? Is that it? Missing your egg? You just can't go a single minute without something up that tight little cunt, can you? Well, I have just the thing for you." Jen watched out of the corner of his eye as he stood and removed his policeman's baton from his belt. He stared down at her without anger, but with steady purpose, fully in control of the young woman in front of him. To Jen's horror, he traced the round wooden end of the black baton down her back to her ass. Her teeth clenched the pillow as he swiftly pulled it back and then sent it crashing against her ass. The force knocked Jen's head into the arm of the couch, and she cried out in pain. Again, he brought it down on her, careful to hit only the pliant flesh of her ass, but punishing her nonetheless. After four lashes with the baton, she felt him trace the inside of her thigh, from her knee to her crotch. She felt the hard, thick, round end press against her opening as he whispered, "Yep, I got just the thing for you."

She sucked in her breath as he slid the baton into her wet pussy, her juices making the wood slick. It was thicker than she could have imagined, like a baseball bat nearly, and her lips ached as they stretched taut around it. He moved it back and forth, twisting it and shoving it in her. Just as she got used to the pain of the baton, his free hand came down hard again on her bare ass, smacking on the red and purplish skin and making her jump again. She knew she was at his mercy, and a small part of her -- the part that had ridden Hunter's cock while sucking a stranger, the part that thrilled at Hunter's spankings -- enjoyed, if nothing else, the feeling of the smooth baton in her stimulated pussy.

Mr. Davies moved her ankles together so that her heels touched. He placed the opposite end of the baton between them, resting the handle along the back of her ankles. He grabbed her hair tightly and yanked her upright until she was practically sitting on the baton, her feet and her pussy holding it in place. The position caused it to go deeper and she lifted her body slightly in response to the renewed pain.

"Ah, so you ARE a quick learner! Good. Ride it. Just like that. Ride it. And don't you dare fucking stop," he added with a quiet but dangerous threat. Jen made tentative movements at first, riding the long baton. She reached down to adjust her lips, but he grabbed her wrists forcefully and twisted them. "I don't think so, slut. Your hands have other work to do." He stood next to her with his hands on his hips and nodded toward his belt, which was now at eye level to her.

Jen didn't need to be told what to do. She unbuckled the heavy police belt and let it fall to the floor. When he made no move, she continued with his pants, unbuckling and then unzipping them. When she stopped, his pants open but not down, he smacked her hard on the ass. Without words, he had told her what to do, so she reached for his waist and lowered the pants over his tight white briefs. She could hardly believe what she saw beneath -- a long, thick tube running down his left leg, the thin fabric stretched taut to cover it. Without further direction, she reached for his briefs and slowly pulled them down, riding the baton a bit faster as each inch of his huge cock came into view. When the waistband finally passed the tip, his dick shot straight out, hard as a rock, and Jen gasped.

It was longer than Hunter's by at least an inch and far thicker. A dense forest of dark black hair covered the base and the balls, which hung far below the shaft in a stretched shaft. Where Hunter's cock was long, lean, and beautiful, his dad's cock was simply, for lack of a better word, powerful. Powerful and, Jen couldn't think of another way to describe it, but angry. The shaft was easily as thick as her wrist, and the bulbous head was engorged and deep red. This was a cock that had abused countless holes, and Jen couldn't help but feel a bit of her self-control and a bit of her pride wash away in face of it.

She looked up at Mr. Davies, who looked down with a sneer. He wasn't showing off. He was simply showing. Showing her what to expect. After holding her gaze for a moment as she continued to bounce on the baton, he reached down and in one motion, tore the buttons on her blouse open, revealing her tits.

"Get it off," he said, indicating her bra. Jen lifted her hands slowly and undid the clasp. The bra tumbled to the ground, and her tits swayed as they fell from the bra and responded to the bouncing movement of her body. Mr. Davies moved to the arm of the couch that Jen faced, sat down and laid a leg on either side of her knees. Their bodies were close now, and she worried that Hunter might catch them. What would he think? Would he blame her? Would he fight with his dad to save her? Jen doubted that and secretly, staring at the now-bare muscular chest of the older man with the angry dick, she didn't want him to.

Mr. Davies rough hands gripped her tits, squeezing them tightly and pulling them away from each other. To Jen's shock, he leaned forward and spit between them, his saliva dripping down the channel between them. With his tongue, he spread the fluid around, soaking her cleavage. Finally, he leaned back and said, "Wrap your tits around my cock and fuck it."

Jen leaned forward awkwardly and placed a hand on either side of her tits. As his cock nestled between them, she pressed them together, engulfing the shaft in her soft flesh. The length was far more than she could handle, and the head of his cock and an inch of shaft stuck out the top of her tits, just below her chin. Mr. Davies held still, and Jen knew she had to do the work. She began to slide her tits up and down in rhythm with the rest of her body, and she felt the head of his cock bump her chin more than once. Finally, he tilted her head down so the head was aimed at her mouth, and each downward thrust brought nearly two inches of thick cock into her mouth.

"Fuck my cock with your tits and mouth, whore. This is what you deserve. When I ask you a question, I want a straight answer. And you had damned well better give it," he said with no emotion as she bobbed on his cock. The head was far thicker than Hunter's and tasted muskier, with a stronger flavor. Like his son, Mr. Davies leaked copious amounts of pre-cum, and Jen struggled t swallow it all. Her pussy had become used to the baton, and she wondered briefly if it would ever shrink back down to a normal size. Maybe she would need a cock that thick for the rest of her life? She hoped not, knowing that the only one even close to that girth was right now stuck between her tits and shining from her spit.

Mr. Davies had to be getting close, she thought after several minutes. He had started to grunt and even thrust his hips a bit as she sank down on him. She felt his muscles tense and heard his breathing grow raspy. She thought he whispered something, but she couldn't quite make it out as she focused on getting off. Without warning, he lifted her off his cock and baton and threw her across the back of the couch, so she was bent over it painfully.

"When I say, 'Stop,' you fucking stop!" he yelled. She felt him behind her and cried out as he forced his cock deep inside her in a single thrust. He pumped hard, forcing her against the back of the couch, his hips slamming into her as his monstrous cock filled her pussy. Finally, blissfully, he came, pressing her down hard and filling her pussy with thick fluid. She gasped and moaned, relishing the feeling of his powerful orgasm inside her. Even while coming, he was fucking her hard and fast, and she was loving the feel of his massive manhood in her tight pussy.

She heard something from the doorway, and turned to see Hunter standing there, watching the two of them.

"Oh my God!" she screamed, but Mr. Davies clamped a hand over her mouth.

"Jesus Christ, be quiet already," he muttered, lifting himself off of her, and withdrawing his cock from her. Jen stayed where she was, embarrassed, fearful of Hunter, and yet with a lingering and delightful sense of having been, perhaps for the first time, well-used.

She watched over her shoulder as Mr. Davies gathered his things and walked, dick swinging, toward the doorway. He stopped in front of Hunter. After a brief moment of silence between the two men -- her two lovers, she now realized -- Mr. Davies spoke.

"Take better care of your toys, son," he said and walked off down the hall.

CHAPTER SEVEN

She stopped on the bottom stair, her hand shaking on the banister. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She and Hunter had been naked, frolicking on the bed, when he stopped suddenly and ordered her downstairs, alone and nude. She protested, of course, but he forced her out the door with a firm smack on her ass and left her standing in the hall.

She could hear the noise of the football game coming from the television down the hall, and she imagined Mr. Davies glimpsing a flash of flesh from his chair as she sprinted into the kitchen. Maybe she would get lucky and cross the hallway as he bent down to get the remote? Or, perhaps he would be checking his phone when she ran across? They were slim possibilities, but she held out hope and held her breath as her bare feet hit the landing. She turned quickly and with two steps was in the kitchen.

No such luck. She knew from the minute her feet smacked on the tile floor that he had seen. She went briskly about her work, fumbling with the mugs as she retrieved one from the cupboard. She dropped the k-cup on the floor in her haste, bent to pick it up, and in one swift movement bolted upright and spun on her heel as the older man's deep voice echoed in the kitchen.

"Just what the hell is going on here?!" Mr. Davies boomed. She panicked and started for the entryway. He grabbed her upper arm hard and held her in place. "What in God's name do you think you're doing, prancing around here like that?" His eyes drank her in, pausing at her breasts and her hips before returning to her eyes.

"H-h-h..." She stammered, stopped herself and started again. "Hunter wanted some coffee."

"And it was such an emergency you couldn't bother to put panties on, is that it?"

"Y-y-yes, sir. I'm sorry." She felt her nipples harden as he assaulted her with his eyes, leering at her. His hand was still curled tightly around her thin arm, the skin reddening from his grip. His lips were drawn in a tight line, and the same shadow from two days before crossed his face. The dark eyes and shadowy brow made Hunter intriguing but made his father positively threatening. Jen had never felt like more of a young girl since she actually was one, and she thrilled at the feeling, remembering their adventures the other day.

Suddenly, the shadow lifted from his face as if it was never there.

"Oh, you will be sorry -- if you're late with my son's coffee." He chuckled. "Hunter can be kind of...well....demanding, y'know?" He let her go and nodded toward the Keurig. Jen moved toward the coffeemaker, feeling his eyes on her the whole way. She held the counter for support and silently begged the water to heat faster, the coffee to brew quicker. She was sure he could see the red marks from where Hunter spanked her, and somehow she knew, she knew, that he would recognize them for what they were.

She felt his presence behind her before she felt his hands. He was close enough that is breath trailed against her skin. His fingers softly pushed her hair to the side, and then trailed a gentle line down her neck, starting just behind her ear. Where Hunter's fingers were soft and smooth from youth, his father's fingers were calloused and labor-hardened, and goosebumps spread rapidly across her skin as he drew an invisible line from her neck down her spine. She picked up the full mug and was about to turn when she suddenly felt his palm cover the right cheek of her ass, cupping it, and kneading it. His left hand slid around her rib cage just below her left breast. His right hand left her ass, and her eyes popped open as she felt the rough fingers tracing the inside of her leg, from her knee to her inner thigh. She gasped as they crossed the thicker part of her thigh and rested barely an inch from her pussy. She was sure he could feel the heat emanating from her now-soaking slit. No, she thought. Is he? Is he really going to touch me there? This couldn't be happening. Hunter is right upstairs. Surely, he had meant it as a joke, right? Especially after getting caught the other day? Hunter didn't really want me to tease his dad, did he? To offer me up to him?

Her breath caught in her throat as his fingers touched her outer lips and moved through the wispy hairs spread across her entrance.

"T-the coffee is hot, Mr. Davies," she finally said.

His head bent toward her ear. "Then you best be careful, girl," he whispered before placing a soft kiss on her earlobe.

She held tightly to the trembling coffee cup and leaned slightly against the counter for support. His thick, rough fingers slid easily inside of her. There was little teasing; he went right for her spot, finding the puffy mound inside her pussy and making quick, small circles across it. The motion brought his thumb into contact with her ass, and he began pressing the sensitive skin between her asshole and her pussy like a button, alternating between quick, light hits and long, lingering pressure. His left hand held her ribs tighter, but he never moved it over her breast to the hard pink nub that she so wanted him to touch. Instead, his meaty hand on her narrow midsection was like a lever, and he began to move her whole body up and down, up and down, not far, but far enough to give her the sense that she was riding his fingers like a cock as he continued manipulating her pussy and perineum.

Jen felt her body tense, apprehensively watched the burning-hot coffee slosh in the mug and felt Mr. Davies thumb move quickly from her perineum to press hard against her asshole as an orgasm swept over her body. His left hand held her still as her muscles clenched in several waves as her pussy gushed on his hand. He moved his fingers more slowly now, coaxing the last bit of pleasure out of her. When he withdrew, she felt emptier than she had in a long time.