Thong Girls
Chapter 5 — Spiked
Crap! That’s what I was thinking. Crap!
When Mathilda Gruff showed up in my office, I pretty much wrote her off as a busybody with an overactive imagination. I mean, who would have believed what she said. Who could have taken it seriously. People having sex in coffee houses. I mean, come on.
And to be honest, I hadn’t taken her seriously. It just so happened that on my way home from work, I happened to pass by a coffee shop and on a lark, I’d gone in.
I still hadn’t expected to find anything. I was just amusing myself so imagine my surprise when I found out that Mathilda Gruff was right.
Well, partly right, at least. I’d done some more investigations and it turned out it was more prevalent than I’d thought, and then I’d gone and talked to our business editor, and he’d given me even more information and based on that, I’d decided that my best course of action was to talk to Bianca Giovanni, the woman in charge of Red Diamond Importers, and pretty much the person responsible for all the high-end coffee in the area.
That was hardly a simple task. Bianca’d become reclusive but I’d managed to sneak onto her estate, figuring that I’d at least be able to get something out of her before she threw me out.
I got more than I’d bargained for.
Bianca’s cousin had given her a drug that had turned her into a super slut. He said he hadn’t meant to. He said he was working on an antidote. I wasn’t sure I believed him on either account, but I wasn’t sure I didn’t believe him either.
So there I was on the horns of my dilemma. Cousin Kyle had said I could write the story. We both knew he couldn’t stop me, but if I did write it, he’d pretty much assured me that Bianca wasn’t going to get any better, and if I didn’t write the story, well hell, there was no guarantee that things would get better that way either.
Like I said, crap!
I decided to go talk to my boss about it. After all, there was still Kyle’s additives in the coffee out there, and that additive was turning women into sluts although not on the same order as Bianca, so it wasn’t just about Bianca. It was about the public good.
Russ Parker’s always had an open door policy so it was no surprise when I went to his office, I found his door standing wide open. I knocked. “Hey, Russ,” I said. “You got a few minutes.”
“Sure, Paul. What’s up?”
“I’ve got a bit of a problem,” I told him. “I was wondering if I could talk to you in private.”
“It’s that serious?”
“Yeah. It’s that serious.”
That was all I had to say. He dropped everything and he told me to come in and for the next fifteen minutes, he listened as I told him everything I knew.
“So what’s your problem,” Russ asked when I was finally done.
“What’s the problem,” I asked somewhat incredulously. I didn’t want to think my boss was an idiot but I should have thought my dilemma was obvious. “I want to know if I should write a story about this or not.”
Russ nodded. “I think I see now.”
“Yeah, and?”
“I suppose the simplest answer is you can do whatever you want because it doesn’t matter what you do. If you write the story, I’ll spike it, so it doesn’t really matter if you write it or not, but if you feel like you have to write it, go ahead and write it.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Geez, Paul. Did you really think you were the first one to figure this out?”
“I ... wait, you mean, there are others who know?”
“Of course there are others. I’m surprised you didn’t figure that out, but here’s the question you have to ask yourself, Paul. Are you sure anyone really wants to know about this.”
“What do you mean?”
“In all your research, did it ever occur to you that this drug doesn’t affect older woman.”
“What?”
Russ nodded. “The drug seems to lose its potency around age 25.”
“But I—”
“Here’s something else for you to consider. Have you seen any unattractive women under the effects of this drug?”
“I ... no. I guess not.”
“That’s right. It seems that a side effect of the drug leaves the people under its influence not just ready to fuck but lean and eager and ready to fuck.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Let me make it simple for you. Just because something is news doesn’t mean we have to print it. There’s plenty of stuff that goes on each and every day that we don’t print.”
“Yeah but this isn’t like some kid’s missing a dog or something. This is big news.” I wasn’t sure why I was arguing with Russ, but suddenly, it was like I had to argue with him. It was like I had to get my point across.
“I didn’t say it wasn’t significant,” Russ said, “but just because it’s significant doesn’t mean we have to report it. Look at it this way, there are plenty of people out there who wouldn’t want news like this coming to light.”
That didn’t make any sense at all and yet I could tell my conversation with Russ was done. If I wrote my story, it wouldn’t be published. Russ had made that perfectly clear.
I supposed I could have written the story and gone behind Russ’s back but I liked my job and taking a story to the publisher wasn’t something you did unless you were so totally sure of yourself that you knew your publisher would have to publish it, and to tell the truth, even with all the things I’d learned, I still wasn’t sure.
So I wasn’t going to write my story, right?
Yeah well, that’s what galled me. I hate being told what to do. I mean sure, that’s part of what editors did. I understood that, but I had a good story. I was sure of it, and I was sure he knew it, too. Hell, he knew some stuff that I didn’t know so maybe they already had someone working the story, but if that was the case, where was the story. As big as I thought this was, I would have expected to have seen something by now if someone were working it, and so far, I’d seen nothing.
And that’s when I started wondering if Russ might be involved. I mean, he pretty effectively spiked my story. What if he was in on it. It would be pretty cute you could get someone on the inside of the only newspaper in town to agree not to run the story. Sure, you’d still have to worry about TV and radio, but really, could anyone do that.
I didn’t think so.
Which brought me back full circle to the crux of the problem.
Why had Russ killed my story, and more to the point, why couldn’t I let it go?
I couldn’t help it. I just sat in my office and I thought about that. I had other work to do, work I was falling behind on, but I just couldn’t let it go.
I tried to let it go. I threw myself back into my work. I tried to catch up on my backlog, but all the while, the story was always there. Every time, I passed by a coffee house, I kept wondering what was there that I didn’t know.
I guess I always knew that I wasn’t going to let it die.
I started going back to the coffee houses.
I’ve asked myself a million times just why exactly that was and to this day, I don’t know. Maybe it was voyeuristic tendencies. Maybe I thought I could learn something by watching the girls behind the counter. Maybe ... hell, I don’t know. Like I said, maybe it was just plain voyeuristic.
I saw a hell of a lot there in those coffee houses. I saw girl’s coming onto customers. I saw girls flirting and sometimes doing even more. It got so I could almost tell how long a girl had been working there by how the girl reacted. The newbies kept looking around as if they couldn’t believe what was going on. Those that weren’t quite new had started to get into the swing of things but every once in a while, they seemed to stop and catch themselves, as if they couldn’t believe this was actually happening.
But it was the ones who’d been there a while that were really exciting. Once a girl seemed to get into the swing of things, she had an almost instinctive need to show just how far she could go.
I’d started to hang around the coffee shops down by the campus. There were two reasons for this. The first should be totally obvious. There were a lot of young co-eds down there looking to make a few extra bucks so you usually found at least one good looking girl behind the counter and the other reason, well maybe that was obvious too. The other reason was that simply put, there were a lot of coffee houses to choose from.
Still, even with the variety that I had, I found I had my favorites. There were some coffee houses that I kept coming back to over and over again.
There was this one place called Del Sol. Nice place. Good atmosphere. Kind of dark in places but considering what sometimes went on in there, dark could be a good thing and besides, there was this girl behind the counter that I really liked.
Weird thing was, from the first time I’d seen her, I thought she looked familiar but whatever it was, I just couldn’t place it.
She had brown hair and a figure that was not too plump and not too thin, and it was a figure that I had to say was quite fetching but what really attracted me to her was her smile. Well, that, and the fact that she didn’t wear anything but bras and panties.
That day when I came in, she was wearing a matched set black, lace bra and panties. She beamed at me as I stepped up to the counter. “What can I get for you,” she asked.
“I’ll have a latte,” I told her.
“Of course, sir,” she said, “and would you like cinnamon or nutmeg sprinkled on the top?”
“Cinnamon, I guess.”
“Of course, sir, and can I interest you in something sweet to eat?”
I’ll admit it. I was staring at her breasts so I kind of missed her question. “What,” I stammered.
“I was asking if you’d like something sweet to eat.”
I knew what I wanted to eat but I had a feeling that that wasn’t on the menu ... although with some of the things I’d seen ... but, no. “No,” I told her. “Np, the latte will be fine.”
“Of course, sir. But if you change your mind about having something to eat, please don’t hesitate to talk with me.”
I nodded.
“Would you like to wait here at the counter,” the salesgirl said, “or would you like me to bring your drink to you?”
I must have sounded stupid but it really was getting hard to think straight and besides, she was a little more frisky than usual. “What,” I stammered.
“I was asking if you wanted me to bring your drink to you.”
“Oh. Yeah. That would be good I told her.”
“Cool. I’ll be out with your drink in a minute then.”
I still had no idea where it was I’d seen her but I was sure I’d seen her somewhere.
She was out with my drink and she was bending over in front of me even as she set it down. She knew what I was doing. She knew where I was looking. “Would you like to see my tits,” she asked.
Considering where my eyes were, that was a question that hardly needed to be asked. I nodded to her.
“Good,” she said in a most cute and perky, little way. “I was kind of hoping you’d say that,” and then without any further ado, she pulled up her top and she let her tits spring free. “Do you like them,” she asked.
Again, I nodded. I wasn’t much for words that night.
“I’m glad,” she said, “but would you like a closer look?”
My head was nodding even before my mind had a chance to analyze just what it was that she was asking me.
“Good,” she said again. “I was hoping you’d say that, too.” Suddenly she had one hand behind my head and she was pushing herself forward and I remember asking myself what was she doing and that was just before she ground her tits against my face.
“Lick me,” she moaned. “Come on. Lick me. I want you to lick my tits.”
I definitely was doing that but I was doing more. Bent over as she was and with her tits shoved up against my face, well, I just couldn’t help it. My hands were empty and her ass was right there so I reached up and grabbed her ass even as I continued to suck on her tits.
“Oh yeah,” the girl moaned. “That’s it. Grab my ass. I want you to do it.”
The girl was wriggling just a bit. Not enough to get away, mind you, but enough to force me to have to play with her body.
The girl moaned again. “You can rub my panties,” she said.
I knew what she meant. She wasn’t telling me what I could do. She was telling me what she wanted me to do, and I was more than happy to give her what she wanted.
“Oh yeah,” she moaned as she felt it. “Oh yeah,” she moaned again as my fingers stroked her between her legs. “Rub me,” she moaned. “Rub me. Rub me there.”
I could tell how wet she was. I could feel it and I couldn’t help what would happen if ...
“Oh God, yes,” she moaned even as I worked my fingers under her panties. “Oh yeah, that’s it. Rub me there.”
I did what she wanted. I stroked her pussy, but just when I’m sure she thought I going to slide a finger up between her legs, I pulled back.
“No,” she moaned. “Don’t stop now.”
Her pleas fell on deaf ears and I knew she thought I wasn’t paying attention to her right up to the moment when my fingers rolled her panties down over her butt and it was only then that she understood what I wanted.
“Oh yeah,” she moaned. “Take my panties off. Is that what you wanted? Oh geez. I want it too.”
All thoughts of coffee were forgotten as I pulled the girl close. I knew what I wanted and I hoped I knew what wanted it, too.
“Wait,” the girl moaned. “What are you doing to me?”
I didn’t really have to spell it out for her. After all, she was a bright enough girl to figure that one out on her own.
“Oh my God,” she moaned. “You’re going to eat my pussy.”
See. I knew she was smart enough to figure it out on her own. She laid down on the table and positioned her knees on either side of my head. Very accommodating that girl was, accommodating and eager, too.
“Oh God,” she moaned. “I love it. I love it when you eat my pussy.”
That made two of us.
“Oh God, you’re going to make me cum.”
That, of course, was exactly what I had in mind and considering that this wasn’t the first time I’d eaten her pussy, I had a pretty good idea just what I needed to do to make it happen.
“Oh my God,” she moaned even more frantically. “Oh my God.”
I knew she was there. I knew she was right there on the edge.
“That’s it,” she gasped. “That’s it,” and there was just something about the way she said it that told me everything I needed to know. I knew she was cumming and I knew I wanted to see her cum.
She wasn’t done with me, not by a long shot. Like I said, I had my favorites and I’d had this girl before. I knew what she was like. I knew if you licked her pussy, it just seemed to amp her up. She’d let you fuck her no matter what but if you took the time to lick her first, she’d just get all that much hotter for it when you finally did do it.
She was looking at me with lust in her eyes. “That was great,” she told me, “but I want you to fuck me.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” she said. “I want you to fuck me.”
It was hardly like I hadn’t expected that. “So where do you want to do it,” I asked as if I didn’t already know the answer.
“Well, seeing as how you got my panties off—”
“What, you mean here?”
“You know what I mean,” the girl said.
“But in front of all these people.”
“You’ve done it before,” she reminded me.
Well, she had me there. “So you want me to fuck you here?”
“Uh huh.”
Well, she was right. I had done it before and as it so happened, I’d done it here at this very table. I came up behind her and I slid my cock between her legs.
She moaned as she felt the head of my cock meet the wetness between her legs and then she moaned even deeper as she felt me push my cock inside.
I couldn’t help but wonder how many times she got herself fucked every night. I was not so naive as to think that I was the only one, and yet the most amazing thing was her pussy always stayed nice and tight and ready for cock.
She moaned as my cock continued to fuck her and I could tell she was really getting into it. It wouldn’t take that much more to push her over the edge.
There was a part of me that wanted to hold back, a part of me that wanted to make it last even as another part of me seemed to egg me on and make me want to fuck her harder. The fuck her harder part was winning. It always did. There was no way I could hold back when I had a pussy like hers in front of me.
The girl moaned again and I knew she was close. It wouldn’t take much, I knew. It wouldn’t take much to push her over.
In fact, it hardly took anything at all.
The girl moaned as her pussy came and then she was moaning again even as her pussy bore down on my cock. She just laid there on the table as I pumped my cum into her and to be honest, she looked very satisfied and almost smug as she took everything that my cock had to offer.
And that was when I finally got it. I knew where I’d seen her before. It was in a picture frame on a desk. I looked at the girl again and I knew I was right. “You’re Russ Parker’s daughter, aren’t you?”
The girl’s demeanor changed suddenly. “You know my father,” she said.
“I work for him.”
“Oh geez. I can’t believe it.”
“You can’t believe what.”
“I told my dad to leave me alone.”
I was completely confused. I had no idea what the hell the girl was talking about.
“So I’m betting my dad didn’t tell you to come down here and fuck his daughter, right, so I’m guessing you decided to see if you could get a freebie out of it, didn’t you.”
“I’m afraid I don’t understand.”
“Yeah right! This is just fucking unbelievable. I told him. I told him to leave me alone.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Sure you don’t. You work for my dad and you don’t know what’s going on. I find that hard to believe.”
“I’m telling you the truth,” I told her. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
I could see her looking at me the same way I’d seen her dad look at me. It was kind of unnerving but I had the feeling she was trying to size me up. “You’re saying my dad didn’t send you down here?”
I shook my head.
“Then why are you here?”
“I was working on a story.”
“What story?”
I was trying to think fast. Whatever I said, I didn’t want to piss her off. “Red Diamond Importers,” I said.
“Who are they?”
“They import coffee beans.”
“You mean you’re not investigating coffee houses?”
“Coffee houses? Why would I be investigating coffee houses?”
The girl seemed to consider that answer. I could tell she was still trying to size me up. “You mean you’re not trying to investigate what goes on in the coffee houses?”
“Well, the coffee houses are where the beans go, but why would I be investigating the coffee houses?”
“People say there are strange things going on here.”
“Strange things,” I asked.
“About the way people act.”
“Why? What’s wrong with the way people act?”
“That’s what I keep telling daddy but he keeps telling me I’m under the influence or something but I know he’s wrong. I’m just doing what makes me feel good.”
“Sounds fair to me,” I told her.
I could tell she was trying to size me up again. “You’re sure my father didn’t send you here.”
“You’re sure my father didn’t send you here.”
I shook my head. “I think I can say with a pretty high confidence that he doesn’t know I’m here.”
“Pity.”
“Yeah? Why’s that?”
“Because if he had, I would have given you a message to take back to him.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah. Hey, I don’t even know your name.”
“It’s Paul.”
“Well, Paul,” she said with the first grin I’d seen in quite a while, “my dad is still not allowed to come see me but you were a lot of fun and you’re a really good pussy licker, so—”
“Yeah?”
“So any time you want to come around, feel free to stop by,” and with that, she turned and walked away.