Part 137: Don't Stop 'Til You Get Enough

Day 76: Saturday, November 30

Chapter 1

Next door, and a few minutes earlier, Alan and Heather had finished their ice cream cones. But the silence between them continued and started to get awkward. Taking the initiative, Alan finally asked, "So. You wanted to talk?"

Heather, though, was still pensive and lost in thought. After a long pause, all she said in response was, "Yes."

But nothing else was immediately forthcoming. To break the quiet, he finally added, "Okay ... Whatever it is, I'm here. Ready and willing to listen."

"Sir," she started, then stopped. She took a deep breath to steady herself, and then asked, "Where do we stand?"

"You mean ... US?"

"Yeah."

"You want the truth, or want me to sugar coat it for you?"

Her eyes narrowed. "The truth," she said, dangerously quiet.

"You sure?" he asked, unfazed by her piercing look.

"Damn sure, Sir," she replied, showing much more confidence than she felt. She sat up stiffly and proudly thrust her tits out, trying to show a brave front.

He sighed, slumping in his chair.

While Alan was composing his thoughts, Heather looked to the ice cream scooper to see if he was still staring. He was. She gave him the evilest evil eye she could muster. It worked, and as he turned away, she thought, Fuck off, you little snot-nosed prick! This hot body is for my Sir only, and don't you forget it! That made her feel better.

Alan finally spoke. "If you want the truth, about us, and where you stand with me, I'm going to have to ask for something in return. If you can't agree to my terms, then all you have to do is stand up and walk away. Deal?"

She sat back and folded her arms under her bountiful breasts. She was proud of the fact that her nipples were erect and straining what little fabric surrounded them. "It depends on what your terms are. I'm not agreeing to anything until you tell me what you want."

"All right, fair enough," he replied amicably. "What I want is basically two things. Number one, I want a truce."

She hadn't been expecting that. A little perplexed, she unfolded her arms, asking, "A what? ... Why?"

"A truce," he repeated. "I don't want to fight you, not right now. After the big fight yesterday, I honestly don't feel much like fighting against anyone at the moment. I dunno if you've noticed it or not, but I guess you could say that I'm more of a lover than a fighter."

She couldn't keep her lips from twitching into a sardonic grin. "I guess you could say I've ... noticed that."

He couldn't help but chuckle at his own expense. "Okay, I guess I walked right into that one, didn't I?"

"Something like that. On the plus side, you definitely have the 'lover' part down pat."

They both snickered. Their joint amusement was easing the tension a little bit.

Ruefully, he continued, "Look, the point is, whenever you and I get together, there's always a power struggle going on between us. You're always pushing me, so I have to push back, and that has ... consequences. So if you don't mind, I'd like to forgo the obligatory tussle for dominance that passes for a relationship between the two of us, for at least ... a little while. All right? Can't we just have fun, and be like friends sometimes?"

She was well aware that he had the upper hand in their relationship. Her plans and schemes to get the best of him were still just that, plans and schemes. She was slightly bewildered that he would be willing to yield his advantage over her, even if only temporarily, because it was something she would never do herself if their positions were reversed. She was also disappointed, because she really enjoyed their constant battling, even though she always seemed to lose. (In fact, he made losing exciting and fun, and always left her very satisfied sexually.)

After a long pause, she replied dubiously, "Okay..." Where the hell is he going with this?

He could sense her disappointment, but he continued, "Secondly, I'd like to lay some cards on the table, and I'd appreciate it if you'd do the same. If we're going to be talking truth to each other here, about us, I don't want you deciding later on to take advantage of my trust in you now and turning around and backstabbing me again with what you know. After all, if I can't trust you, then I want you out of my life. Period. End of discussion. Understood?"

She looked him in the eye, and saw the steely resolve she thought he'd abandoned when he said he didn't want to have a power struggle with her. The greedy and bitchy Heather surfaced momentarily in her mind and cackled, SUCKER! She immediately began forming fresh approaches to plot his downfall, hoping she could use his own words against him in order to win. But then another side of her stepped out of the shadows and insisted she look at this in a different way.

She weighed the options in her mind, and concluded, If I agree to his truce offer, and a chance to be openly honest with each other, I really have nothing to lose and a whole lot to possibly gain. I'm reminded about the deal I made with him that led to the whole Inner Bitch Taming program. True, my pride has taken a hit sometimes ... okay, hell, a lot of the time. In fact, he humiliates and defeats me constantly! But I'm also getting to experience the most mind-blowing and soul-searing orgasms I've ever had in her life. I've got to admit that it's a good deal, all things considered.

She also realized, Whatever else he may be to me, he's never played me false or lied to me. He seems to be genuinely trying to make me into a better person. I've only known him for two months, but I already implicitly trust him more than I trust any of my long-time friends. Well, not counting Simone, of course.

She put her hands on the table and stared at them, trying to decide what she should do. When she heard him take a big breath to say something, she pre-empted him by blurting out, "Okay!"

"Okay ... what?"

She was frowning and squirming uncomfortably in her chair. "I agree to your terms, okay? Truce and cards, alright? Now, Sir, where do we stand ... you and I?"

"Keep your voice down, will you?" he asked, a bit nervously. He looked at the older couple, who were still there and looking at them askance.

Heather knew she didn't want a public scene. She was well known near the beach that she "ruled," and it wouldn't do for any rumors to get started that she was having a spat with Amy's boyfriend the day after her expelled ex-boyfriend had tried to beat him up at school during a football game. "Sorry, Sir."

"No need to apologize to me. I'm just trying to look out for you here."

"Huh? You're looking out for me?"

"Well, yeah. I mean, I'm a nobody. I'm just Mr. Nerdboy Plummer. But you, you're NOT a nobody. You're Heather Morgan, future homecoming queen ... and it's in neither of our interests to cause a scene right now where you get recognized and talked about for all the wrong reasons. Am I right?"

She raised her arms above her head, proudly and sexily preening at the mention of being the future homecoming queen. She even moved away from the table so he could get a good look at her entire body. "You're right, I am the future homecoming queen, and the sexiest girl in school. The most powerful too. I'm somebody special!"

She still felt intimated by Xania's devastating beauty, as well as many of Xania's comments, so she very much needed to hype herself up for her own confidence as well as to impress him.

But then she commented, "Except you're not a nobody, Sir. Not anymore."

He chuckled dismissively. "Are you saying I'm popular now? I don't believe it."

She dropped her arms and looked at him with disbelief. "Oh, come on! Are you that modest, or that clueless, or are you just flat-out lying? It's not that you're popular, per se, but everybody's talking about you. Big time! And now, after yesterday's fight, and this news that you're fucking Jennifer Love Hewitt-"

"Hold on! I am NOT fucking Jennifer Love Hewitt!" he complained, barely remembering to keep his voice down. True, I sure would like to. She's pretty hot. Although both my moms are sexier, and even more buxom to boot. She's not more beautiful than them just 'cos she's famous. Not at all.

She grinned slightly while maintaining her provocative pose. "A-ha! Finally, I'm getting some answers. Who is it then? Heather Graham, maybe? She's pretty stacked."

He rolled his eyes, even though he was thinking she'd be pretty fun to play around with too. "Please. Enough, already! Can we not get distracted with this ridiculous rumor?" He found the fact that she was taking this idea seriously to be laughable, but he did his best to hide his mirth.

She finally dropped her arms and relaxed her pose. "Hmmm. A clever non-denial denial. Interesting. But fine, Sir, I'll drop it, for now. My point is, you're getting to be as well known as I am even, and when Monday comes around you're gonna be hot topic number one. AND probably numbers two and three as well."

He made a pained face. "And here I thought I was keeping a low profile."

"Oh you were, Sir. Even I didn't know who you were for a long time, and I make it a point to know everything about everybody. But now, when you're fucking the entire cheerleading squad-"

"Minus one," he interrupted, determined to protect Katherine and avoid falling into any verbal traps. He didn't elaborate that, technically, the "one" he was excluding was Heather herself, at the moment.

"Okay, the entire cheerleading squad, minus one..." she allowed with a dismissive hand wave, guessing that he meant Katherine. "Sir, the point is, the word has been getting out all around school about you and your incredible sexual prowess. I mean, let's face it, your 'girlfriend'" - she made little mocking finger quotes in the air for him - "Amy hasn't exactly been all that shy about letting on how impossibly great you are in bed, and we both know she's not lying about it. That's what the fight yesterday was all about, you know. Hell, you've even managed to defrost Christine, the freaking Ice Queen, enough that now even she's sniffing around your crotch! Doesn't that tell you anything, Sir?" Her face suddenly turned into an angry, annoyed scowl.

His penis had grown erect when Heather walked in wearing her yellow bikini while still in high heels, but it had slowly gone flaccid since. Now he felt it stiffen up again. The way she was naturally and continually calling him 'Sir' without being reminded was constantly arousing for him, plus the mental image of Christine bent over with her nose in his crotch and her huge rack swaying pendulously turned him on even more than the deeply tanned and non-imaginary tits practically bursting out of Heather's top right in front of him.

He studied her face, trying to discern what was irritating her so much. The realization, when it hit him, was so obvious that he wondered how he could have missed it for so long. "Heather? Are you jealous?"

Affronted by the mere suggestion, she recoiled and tried to parry. "Sir, what do you mean?"

"I mean ... are you jealous because I'm having sex with other women, instead of only with you?"

Ordinarily, she would be able to simply deny the charge, toss her ponytail, and move on. But, truce or no truce, lately she had been feeling a strange compulsion to be truthful with him. She could lie to him, yes, but she'd have to force herself to do it. And with his truce offer in the air, she felt particularly reluctant to jeopardize her already weak standing with him.

Yet she also couldn't answer truthfully, because her great pride wouldn't allow her to admit such a thing. She was torn, and didn't know what to say.

The situation was resolved after a painfully awkward minute or more passed, when he noted, "Your silence is deafeningly clear."

She realized he was right - that no answer at all was an answer in and of itself. "All right, okay? Maybe, just maybe, it bothers me a little bit. Some a lot more than others, like Christine. We're like mortal enemies, all right? So the mere idea of you force feeding that fat fuckstick of yours into a girl like her ... I mean, Sir, when I picture her pale nude blonde body lying underneath yours, her weird-ass curly locks flying up and down as you nail her hard and deep, her huge tits flopping around to the mad fuck rhythm, those freakishly oversized fun bags of hers practically thwacking her in her face ... well, let's just say it makes my blood boil!"

Alan's blood was also boiling, thanks to her vivid description, but boiling with lust. His dick had been softening again, but it suddenly surged back to full hardness as he thought of fucking Christine. If only Amy were here, she would laugh at the instant "Viagra Woman" effect Christine seemingly always has on me.

He recalled fondly how he'd been hotly kissing Christine and grasping her massive tits with both hands just the night before. It made him smile and readjust his suddenly insistent boner.

Luckily, Heather was oblivious to his arousal. The lurid details she'd mentioned only helped her work herself up into a lather of jealousy. "And to think of you cumming in her instead of me! That's the ultimate insult. It's like you just ripped out my heart! Arrgh!"

Then, just as suddenly as her emotions had flared up, they seemingly retreated. Not quite as confidently, she continued, "Speaking of the frosty bitch, you ... uh ... weren't lying, were you, Sir? On the phone, when you said you weren't seeing her this morning?"

"No, Heather, I can honestly say I wasn't seeing her this morning."

"Oh." This time, she believed him.

"Not that I would necessarily rule it out, to be honest."

"You can't!" she said hotly.

"Can't what? Have sex with Christine? Of course I can, and to be honest, I just might. How dare you tell me otherwise!" He thought back to the last time he'd been in an ice cream shop with Heather, and his embarrassing situation with Rock being there as well while Heather had quite literally had him in the palm of her hand. He marveled at how much his confidence had grown since then.

Alan had been speaking with the metaphor of playing cards, and Heather realized that she didn't have any cards to play to convince him to stay away from Christine. Instead, she stared darkly, and thought of her enemy, Her icy ass is grass! She may run circles around me in a physical fight, but I'll slaughter her in a battle of wiles and wits. She's so moral and innocent that keeping her from my Sir will be like taking candy from a baby. I almost feel sorry for how easily she's gonna go down.

He clarified, "But if you must know, I was entertaining a friend from out of town this morning, so I didn't have any time to spare for Christine."

Chapter 2

Heather needed almost no time at all to make the logical jump. "Xania!" She spoke the name like it was an evil curse, even though she kind of liked her. "Were you fucking her when I kept trying to call you?"

"Let's just say that when we're together, there isn't a whole lot of sleeping involved. Her, plus a couple of others. It was a nice morning orgy." He was trying to be relatively honest, so she couldn't later claim he'd lied to her, and he was also tweaking her nose a little in the process.

Heather felt herself being taken aback by that answer. Still, she couldn't suppress her desire to learn more about her newfound rival. "Is she ... good ... in bed?"

He answered proudly, "She's extraordinary. In bed, or out of it."

"I can imagine." Heather was feeling low already, and this new information was sending her self-confidence on a downward spiral. She remembered Xania's hint that Alan was fucking more than one woman earlier in the day, but she was so upset that she was afraid to ask who else had been involved.

"No..." he said, rubbing his chin. "No, I don't think you can, to be honest. She's got incredible skills and experience. She's also not just a psychologist; she's a sex counselor, which means she knows the 'ins and outs' of sex extremely well, so to speak. You'd do well to learn from her."

"Whatever." Heather was eager to change the topic, because not only was this line of discussion depressing her even more, but she actually found her nipples hardening and tingling anew as she imagined Alan and Xania in a sweaty, naked embrace. I hate that he has all his other women, but at least he knows quality. The fact that he's seduced the likes of Xania means that my Sir is a total stud! Why should I settle for anyone less? And it's further proof that I'm one of the elite beauties, but of course I knew that already.

She shook her head a little bit to clear it of the unwanted images. "All I want to know is, where do we stand ... you and I?"

He sighed, leaning back in his chair again. "Where we stand is at a bit of an impasse. You're jealous of my other women, even if you're reluctant to admit it to my face. You want me to give them up so I can devote all my attention to you. Am I right?"

She refused to answer, again feeling strangely reluctant to lie to him directly. She only said, "Go on..."

"Well, the simple fact is, I'm not going to be giving them up - any of them - anytime soon. Furthermore, I'm not going to be giving up any of my women just so I can be with you and you alone. Period. Now, either you can accept that, and we can move on, or you can simply refuse, right here, right now, and we can both go our separate ways. I never offered you exclusivity, and I'm not offering it now. I hate to be harsh, but you either have to deal with that, or walk away. And don't feel bad, because this isn't a judgment about you, or your beauty, or anything like that. Things are going so great for me that I'd be a complete fool to mess with my situation. There isn't a single woman in the world who could talk me into limiting myself to a monogamous lifestyle."

"Not even Jennifer Anniston? Maybe Catherine Zeta Jones?"

He rolled his eyes, but he was forced to grin. "That's what I call a fishing expedition. No comment, about them or anyone else!"

Heather grinned too, but she quickly returned to feeling deadly serious. "Is that why you won't fuck me anymore, Sir? Because I have issues with your other girls?"

He shook his head. "No. That's not it at all. You and I have got a bunch of other issues already. I'm not fucking you right now because it's the only way I've got left to punish you, and because you've driven me to this point. You're always trying to step over the line simply because I tell you it's there, and please don't step over it. So what do you do? You step over the line and dare me to do something about it. When you push me, you're all but forcing me to push back ... because if I don't, you're just going to walk all over me and not give a shit about how I feel. For you, it's all about winning and losing, and you want to be a winner, every time. But for me, it's not like that at all. You may not believe me right now, but I take absolutely no pleasure in having to punish you. At all. NONE."

She felt very doubtful about that, and it showed on her face. "You don't?"

"Of course not! I don't want to see you suffering or in despair or on the verge of a nervous breakdown because I was messing with your head or something crazy like that. That's stupid! And I'm not 'keeping score' or anything with you so as to hold stuff against you just to be obnoxious or anything like that. Truth be told, I'd far rather be rewarding you every single day of the week with a good hard fucking and a hot n' heavy load of cum than having to punish you every day because you want to play these games all the time that somehow always involve a power trip for you. It's obnoxious and it's tiresome, so I'd appreciate it if you'd cut it out already."

He sighed. "What I wonder about though," he continued, dubiously, "is if you're even capable of changing."

She had no doubt that she could will herself to do anything. She was annoyed he would doubt her willpower, and had to bite her tongue not to say something nasty. Her eyes narrowed again. "You can't be serious. Sir."

"I am. Try me. In fact, you already are ... hence why we're here."

Keeping her voice down, Heather replied with increasing heat, "No, no, I don't mean that ... I mean, Sir, you can't be serious about not enjoying punishing me. That's a crock and you know it, and you know that I know it! I'm the head cheerleader and the queen of our school ... and you want me to believe that you, a former lowly nerd, don't get off on taking me down a peg or two? PUH-LEEZE! Making me crawl around on hands and knees totally naked and begging for your cock doesn't get you off?"

Her thoughts drifted off, as she pictured herself crawling and begging before him. God, that's hot! I have to admit that I kinda love it when he does that. In fact, I wish he'd order me to do that more often. So, if I get off it, how could he not?!

She forced herself to concentrate and focus on her anger. "Making me suck your cock when you know I hate doing that for anyone else doesn't get you off? Parading your other fuck toys around in front of me doesn't get you off? Fondling her big boobs and perfect ass right in front of me doesn't get you off?"

As she grew more animated, she leaned forward across the table and began poking her finger at him. That caused her boobs to sway forward and nearly fall out of her bikini top. "Ordering me around like I'm your personal sex slave and quote, 'cum dumpster, ' unquote, doesn't get you off? Making me hold still while you have your way with me and drive your big fat cock deeper and deeper into me, that doesn't get you off? Humiliating me in public in front of my friends doesn't get you off? Getting my best friend to start stuffing my ass with Bitch Trainers bigger than anything I've ever had in my cunt before doesn't get you off? Listening to me BEG you to drive your cock deep in my ass and nail my hot body to my bed doesn't get you off?! I could go on all day!"

She stood up and angrily stabbed her fingers at the table while making her point. "BULL FUCKING SHIT roasted over an open fire pit ... SIR!" She was truly pissed off, but she suddenly found herself also extremely horny, as her words brought back a flood of intensely pleasurable memories. To her great annoyance, her pussy throbbed with need, but that was nothing compared to the way her anus itched with a hotter and even more urgent craving for satisfaction.

Alan's penis had grown flaccid again, but it quickly engorged as her words brought back the same similar sexually intense memories that were inflaming her. However, he played it cool. "Ah ... I see that we have a difference of opinion."

She glared at him. "You can say that again, Sir." Lately, she'd been saying "Sir" in a nice and respectful way, but at that moment she was so upset that she was saying it in a derisive, mocking tone.

Chapter 3

Alan said, "All right, I'm going to put a card on the table here, so you can see the kind of honesty I want us to share. You ready?"

Still standing, she crossed her arms under her still slightly heaving rack. "I was born ready." She tried to use her considerable willpower to suppress the lusty feelings centered in her ass, but with only partial success.

He noticed she was deliberately standing away from him, scowling at the wall. (He also noticed the older couple had finally left, but that wasn't important at the moment.) Partially, she was genuinely annoyed, but at the same time she also wanted to put her ass on display in hopes that would make him want to fuck her there. She'd cleverly pulled her bikini bottoms up into her ass crack, so at first glance it looked like her ass was completely exposed.

He took some long moments to admire her toned and deeply tanned ass, even though he could see through her motives for standing there the way she was. Finally, he said, "Heather, look at me."

She grumpily turned her head to look him in the eye. He really fucking pisses me off. How dare he treat me like he does? It seems that every time I see him, I somehow wind up naked and on all fours, begging for his tasty cock. And half the time, he has me do it in front of Simone or one or more of the cheerleaders, just to humiliate me all the more. And what's really fucking annoying is how fucking hot it makes me! What the fuck is wrong with me? "A Morgan never loses," but he has me losing all the time!

He waited patiently for her to calm down a little after her tirade.

As the seconds passed, she realized she had no excuse to keep her ass on display, so she turned around to face him again. She kept her arms folded under her rack though, pushing her tanned tits up and out. It was a close call, but her bikini top didn't slip off either nipple.

At that point he said calmly, "As far as I'm concerned, none of those things you mentioned are punishments, and here's why. They're not punishments, because you get off on them. No, wait, let me finish."

He paused until he was certain she wasn't going to interrupt. "Yes, it's true that I enjoy embarrassing you, and humiliating you, and all the rest, make no mistake. In fact, I have a great big boner in my shorts even as we speak, just from thinking about the things you mentioned, not to mention how yummy you look right now."

She flashed him a triumphant grin at that.

He went on, "But I ONLY do it, and get off on it, when it's something that YOU enjoy too. Stuff like 'Grope Naked Heather Friday.' That was an idea I just tossed out there on a whim, never expecting you to take it seriously. And then, the next Friday, you showed up naked under your cheerleader uniform, and got me to fingerfuck you in the ass in the hallway between classes in front of your friends!"

"That's because you forced me to do it," she replied sulkily. But she didn't believe that even as she said it. She finally sat back in her chair as it occurred to her that he could easily see the big wet spot over the front panel of her bikini bottoms when she stood facing him.

Again, despite her depressed mood, the mere mention of "Grope Naked Heather Friday" was enough to get her pussy much wetter than it already had been. The table now concealed her crotch from his view, but she nonetheless felt exposed and naked. She reflexively crossed her legs to cover the growing dark spot on the yellow fabric.

He shot back, "Bullshit! You got into it even more than I did! I was just teasing, but you wanted to take it seriously! I want you to sit here and stare me in the face, and then tell me you haven't greatly enjoyed all the stuff I've done to you and had you do. Can you do that?"

After a long pause, she quietly admitted, "No." She found herself suddenly blushing and staring at the table top.

He went on, "Do you even know what kind of person I am? Do you really think I'd rape somebody? And even get off on it?! Do you think I'd have a great time fucking a girl if she was feeling completely awful and unaroused about it?"

"No," she had to admit again.

"So, knowing that, you need to understand the flip side. Yes, I want to hear you beg me to stuff my cock up your ass and fuck the shit out of you ... but only, ONLY if it turns you on. Yes, I want you to suck my cock and learn to deep throat me and regularly take my loads down your throat ... but I want you to WANT to do that of your own free will and desire, and because it gives me AND you satisfaction and pleasure, not because you hate it and I enjoy being cruel to you."

She replied, guardedly, "Okay, Sir, I'll admit you have a point. And I guess that's one reason why I enjoy it all so much. It's like the difference between laughing at someone and laughing with them. Somehow, no matter what you do to me, there's always an atmosphere of fun in the air, and even ... love." She quickly backtracked from that admission though, afraid of revealing her emotions too nakedly. "Er, maybe a better word is 'caring'. But it still sounds to me like you're the one calling the shots."

He said, "Yeah, well, of course it would, if you insist on looking at it that way. And I guess it's true: I am. But that's not what it's all about, not for me. I'm not out to defeat you. I just want to have FUN with you, and you have to admit we have the best time when I get all aggressive in my 'Bad Alan' mode. So when I say I want a truce, I don't mean that I want to stop doing all that stuff. No, what I want to stop are the REAL battles for power and position, not the fun and sexy battles that we both enjoy."