(Just found this one in my old work folder. Don’t think I ever posted it. Feedback is always appreciated. Enjoy.)
“Holy shit, Anne, that bikini looks…”
“Hot, right?”
“I was going to say slutty, but you do you, girl.”
Anne, Betty and Chloe had a good laugh over the comment. They were close. So close as to be sisters in all but blood. Friends to the end. They’d grown together. Studied together. Graduated together. Now, in their first summer before college, they traveled together. It was their first vacation as adults. They were free of parents and legal guardians. Free to go where they wanted. Do what they wanted. Dress how they wanted.
For the short haired blonde that freedom meant getting to wear a yellow and black thong cut bikini. It was the sort of swimsuit that drew the eye down in the back and up in the front. Anne had already twice adjusted the rather risque top. It came dangerously close to showing a hint of nipple every time she shifted. Such was the price the eighteen year old had to pay for the abundance of cleavage her garment put on display.
Not that her friends had dressed any more modestly than she had.
They were young. Free. Single. A trio of highschool graduates strutting their stuff on a Caribbean beach. They enjoyed drawing the hungry eyes of men and the jealous eyes of women. Every head they turned, for whatever reason, was a triumph.
“Oh, Em, Gee!” Betty pointed to a chair in the shade of a palm tree. “Is that, like, Mr. Morrison?!”
Anne’s aggravation at her ditzy friends manner of speech lasted only a moment. Mr. Morrison. Frank Morrison. The man who taught them science only a few weeks earlier. The man she had crushed on for as long as she could remember. He was right there. On the beach.
Chloe prodded the stunned blonde in the ribs.
“Go talk to him.”
“Excuse me? Wha- No! Absolutely not!”
“Why not?”
“Well, I mean, he’s…”
Her heart pounded in her chest.
“Hi Mr. Morrison!”
The busty brunette bimbo had bounced across the beach to greet their former teacher. Chloe walked cooly after her. Anne stayed put with her feet buried in the sand. Panicked thoughts raced through the blondes mind. She was a woman. A sexy woman. One that shouldn’t feel butterflies in her stomach at the sight of any man, let alone one old enough to be her father.
From a distance she could see him sit up to talk to her friends. He wasn’t wearing a shirt. She’d never seen him without a shirt. He looked good. Broad. Not chiseled, but clearly in shape. Hairy, too. She hadn’t imagined his chest would be as rough, as manly, as it was.
“Anne! Come on over!”
One foot. Then the other. Step by step. Closer. Closer. Close enough to see the streaks of gray in his black hair. To see the flecks of green in his otherwise blue eyes. So close she could reach out and touch him.
“Anne, what a surprise. Your friends were just telling me how the three of you took this trip on a whim.”
His voice was as distinguished as his face.
“Umm yeah. Yes, I mean. There wasn’t much planning. We only thought of taking this trip three days ago.”
He smiled. She melted.
“That’s the best way to do it. Travel, I mean. And being young. Sometimes you’ve just got to throw yourself out there and see what happens.”
“Uh huh.”
Her eyes drifted down across his body. Frank Morrison was twenty two years her senior, but that didn’t stop her from checking him out.
“Anne?”
“Oh, um, yes Mr. Morrison?”
“I think your friends have left you behind.”
The blonde spun to look around the beach. Sure enough, Betty and Chloe had left her alone with her crush.
“Shit, I mean, shoot, I’ve got to go.”
“Of course. Enjoy your vacation.”
“You too!”
She tore off across the sand. Cheeks red. Heart aflutter. Stomach knotted.
“I still can’t believe you ran.”
“Shut up.”
“Or that one of your nipples was poking out that entire time.”
“Shut up!”
“Or that he never looked anywhere but your face!”
A missile of feathers and fabric slapped Chloe in the head.
It had been hours since the girls had their chance encounter with their former teacher. Hours Anne spent trying to get over the incident. They’d played in the surf and tanned on the sand. Eaten and drank. Explored. Danced. It wasn’t until they’d returned to their hotel room that Betty and Chloe confronted their friend.
“Ugh, this isn’t fair. I was supposed to never see him again.”
“Ummm…” Betty tilted her head. “Didn’t you want to see him?”
“Oh Betty. Of course she does. But she was hoping that if she never saw him again she’d forget about him. But now she’s seen him without a shirt and she’ll never-”
Another pillow struck the young woman. Then another. Then another. Anne used every pillow available to silence her friend.
“Fuck this. Fuck you. I’m going for a walk.”
“Have fun!”
“Yeah…” A muffled voice came from the pile of pillows on the hotel bed. “Here’s hoping you bump into Mr. Morrison!”
Of course, Anne had no expectation to find Frank Morrison on her walk. She didn’t expect to find anyone or anything. It was just that; a walk.
The days heat hadn’t been fully lost as the sun sank beneath the distant horizon. It lingered in the sand. In the concrete. Even in the still air. It was a warm, calm summer’s night in the Caribbean. There was no need for her to change, not that the blonde had thought to. She was far from the only young woman wandering about after dark in a bikini.
“Something fruity… and boozy…”
It could hardly be considered an island paradise if the drinking age was twenty one. Anne, lost in thought, had found herself at a quiet little beach side bar. She took a seat at the end of its long counter, got her drink and stared out the window.
Wave after wave washed across the darkened sand. The girl pictured herself laying there. Each wave would wash away her troubles. Her insecurities. Her embarrassments. They’d all be pulled out to sea and, eventually, she would emerge from the surf as a new woman. A strong woman. A woman who got what she wanted. One that didn’t get tongue tied in front of hot older men.
“Whiskey sour.”
The voice. The distinguished voice. It was only a few stools away. The blonde turned to see him still in his shorts but with a button down shirt loosely covering his chest. Frank Morrison. Her crush. He looked right at her, raised his glass and smiled.
The girl withdrew into herself to let the woman from the surf have her chance to shine. She rose, walked confidently to the stool by the older man, and sat. Anne wasn’t sure what she was doing. She had no idea how things would turn out. She was just throwing herself out there and seeing what happened.
“So, do you come here often?”
Words an eighteen year old have rarely ever spoken to a man who’d recently turned forty.
“Hah, well, yes, actually. I come to this island every summer. And this bar’s been good to me.”
“So, what, you just sit on the beach and watch the bikini babes walk by?”
“Not just watch, I’m not a creep. I talk to them too.”
Anne was living in the moment. No worries. No inhibitions. Just the woman from the surf and the things she wanted to say.
“Oh? Does that mean I’m a bikini babe? You talked to me.”
“I- I’m, well…”
The blonde stood and took a step back from the man. Her top hardly contained her ample young breasts. Her bottom rode low on her smooth hips.
“Well what?”
She turned and stuck one hip out to send a brief jiggle through her ass. He cleared his throat and drank deep from the tumbler in his hand.
“Yes. Definitely. You are a bikini babe.”
Anne laughed and bounced in place before returning to her stool. It was a motion that pulled at fabric. That disturbed the carefully placed garment and left the edges of both her nipples clearly in view. She noticed, but did nothing to fix her top. The mans eyes, finally freed from the illusion that she was just a girl, crept along her body and locked onto those two slivers of carnal fun. She noticed that too.
“Mr. Morrison…”
“Frank.”
“Frank. The bars pretty empty, Frank. I don’t see any other bikini babes. Does that mean you’re going to try to pick me up?”
“Even if this bar was filled with young women in tiny bikinis, I think you’d be the one I’d be after.”
He tried to look at her chest without looking like he was.
“Do you like what you see? Do you want to see more?”
He did. And he did. Words weren’t needed to convey his desires. The look in his eye said it all.
The eighteen year old pulled at the triangles of yellow fabric just barely failing to cover her breasts. A sliver of nipple became a peek, then a full display. Frank couldn’t look away from her perky handfuls of fun. From her delightful circles of dark pink and their stiff nubs. He could only curse under his breath and stare.
With her top pulled to her sides and her tits out for the empty bar to see, Anne finally took a sip of her drink. It was cool. Sweet. So tropical and fruity that one could never know how much liquor had been mixed into it.
The teen was proud of herself. Proud to approach the man of her daydreams and expose her chest without any liquid courage. So proud, in fact, that she decided to go a bit further. She again left her stool, hooked her thumbs into the band of her bikini bottom and briefly pulled it from her body to display her fresh teen pussy.
“Careful, girl. I’m starting to get excited. You might not like me when I get excited.”
“Maybe I would.”
“Oh really?”
She bit her bottom lip. The blonde couldn’t count how many times she’d sat in Mr. Morrisons class and imagined him pinning her to his desk. Sometimes he’d be rough but caring, sometimes he’d simply use and abuse her, but it was always what she wanted. And it was always in front of her classmates.
Frank pulled the front of his shorts down. Anne was speechless. “Excited enough for you?”
“I… oh…” She reached out and gently wrapped her fingers around her science teachers throbbing shaft. “It’s hot. Fuck, its thick.”
“The bartenders in the back and the guy in the corner hasn’t looked up from his phone for a while. You can have a closer look if you want.”
The exposed teen sank to her knees. The piece of meat in her hand was longer than average and noticeably girthy. It had a faint smell of sweat and masculinity that filled her nostrils and blanketed her mind. She leaned forward and planted a kiss on its tip.
“Just do whatever comes naturally. No need to hold back.”
Anne obeyed her former teacher. Another kiss to the side of his head was the first in a line that worked its way down his shaft. It was a dream come true. The blonde had always wondered what Frank Morrisons cock looked like, now she knew. She knew it’s look, it’s taste, it’s smell. When her lips found the base of their phallic focus she shifted down and took one of the mans hefty nuts into her mouth.
The loose skin felt strangely pliable on the teenagers lips and tongue. She’d never sucked balls before. It wasn’t unpleasant. In fact, the more she did it the more she found herself enjoying it. With one testicle warmed by the heat of her mouth she moved on to the other. Then to the entire shaven sac.
Anne looked up at the forty year old man she was orally pleasing and imagined what she looked like from his perspective. An eighteen year old blonde fresh out of high school, her perky tits on full display, a fat cock resting on her face with a set of heavy balls stuffing her mouth. It was a picture she wished she could have seen. A picture she could still see.
“Fuck it, alright.”
Frank took the phone she handed him and lined up the shot. Anne wouldn’t see the picture until later that evening, but it was just what she imagined it to be.
“I have a cock too, you know.”
Forty year old balls were freed from an eighteen year old mouth with an audible pop. The girl immediately ran her tongue along the bottom of his shaft and planted another kiss on his tip. Her jaw slackened, she took a deep breath, then-
“Really? Right here in the bar?”
The bartender, a young man who hadn’t paid any attention to his few customers, had finally come down the bar to do his job only to find a teenager about to blow a man old enough to be her father.
“Come on, it’s not like we’re disturbing anyone.”
“Out.”
And so it was that the pair found themselves out on the beach after dark.
The highschool graduate had fixed her top in the bar to avoid giving their spoilsport of a bartender anything fun to look at, but then ditched it entirely once outside. The highschool teacher had followed suit and removed his shirt.
What Anne and Frank had wasn’t romance. It wasn’t love. It was lust. It was a young woman exercising her newfound freedom while indulging in fantasy. It was a forty year old man enjoying the feelings of youth and sexual achievement that were rewarded by hot young women and their hot young bodies.
Theirs was not a romantic walk on the beach.
Frank had immediately planted his hand on his former students nearly bare ass. It was firm, but yielding. The man groped it with increasing aggression as he led her down a path of sand and surf. The only time he let it go was to fondle her breasts.
“Mr. Morrison…”
“Frank is fine.”
“No.” The teen turned and pressed herself against him. Her hands stroked his chest. His rested on her hips. “Mr. Morrison. I wasn’t very good in high school.”
“Weren’t you?”
She shook her head.
“I daydreamed in class and I had Chloe help me with my projects.”
“You were supposed to do those alone.”
“I know. I’ve been bad.”
Frank gave her a frown she’d seen before. A look he gave every disappointing student before a firm lecture.
“You’ll just have to make it up to me now, then.”
His shorts hit the sand. His meat slapped against her body.
Again, the topless teenager sank to her knees. She wasted no time in bringing the tip of his thick pole to her pursed lips. The blonde slid forward, inch after inch of Frank passing over her tongue and eventually pressing against the back of her mouth. The scent, the masculine stink, it set a fire in her. Anne ripped herself back from the cock she’d longer for.
“I’ve been bad. I’ve been really bad.” She spit on his dick stroked him while giving her confession. “I’ve cheated on tests and I’ve faked being sick so I could go to the mall. I need to be punished.”
A hand came to rest firmly upon her golden hair and guide her head back to the throbbing shaft.
“You’re going to have to do a lot to make up for your transgression, Miss Anders.”
The fleshy penetrator again entered her mouth, slowly but steadily pushing to the back of her throat and crushing her uvula. It didn’t stop there. He didn’t stop there. Mr. Morrison pushed until his balls were up against his students chin.
“Hands behind your back, Miss Anders. This is a punishment after all.”
Anne complied and resigned herself to being used at her science teachers leisure. He held himself there, balls deep in her throat, while she turned red. While her eyes watered. While her sex hungry mind fought her bodies need for air.
The girl gagged around the thick shaft. Tears streamed down her cheeks. But still, she kept her hands behind her back.
Mr. Morrison slowly pulled out of his teenage cock sucker. She coughed. She gagged. And the moment she’d caught her breath he was in her again. Not for another slow deep throat. No. The forty year old man was intent on skull fucking the girl kneeling before him.
“Oh fuck. That’s the shit, right there.”
Anne knelt, submissive, motionless, while the man she’d had a crush on pounded her throat with a fat piece of meat. It was just what she’d always imagined. What she’d always wanted.
“All that teasing. You and your friends in your slutty little bikinis. I’ve been on edge for hours. And sucking my balls at the bar. You- fuck, you little-”
He pulled back just far enough to leave her lips wrapped around his swollen head.
“Oh, ohhh. Fuck.” Frank Morrison stroked himself while ejaculating into his former students mouth. “Don’t swallow. I want to see.”
The slack jawed teen left her mouth open and even stuck her tongue out to better present the load of pearly white cum he’d dumped into her. It was just as much as he’d implied, a heavy nut brought on by a days teasing with no release.
“Remember, good girls swallow.”
Anne smiled. She closed her mouth, looked down then let a mixture of spit and semen drizzle onto her chest. The teen rubbed the vulgar fluid across her tits to leave them slick and glistening in what little light could reach them from the city streets beyond the sand.
“I told you, Mr. Morrison. I’m a bad girl.”
Frank Morrison wasn’t a young buck. Not anymore. The forty year old man could manage two times a night if he was given time to recover, but he normally didn’t have it in him to keep going immediately after cumming.
And yet, he was still hard.
Harder, even. The vulgar display before him had done something sinful to his mind.
“Turn around. Bend over.”
“No.”
The teen looked to the well lit street running along the edge of the beach, then back to him. There was something else she wanted. Something more. He couldn’t bend her over his desk in front of her class. He couldn’t take her on a bar table in front of strangers. But he could have her by the road. Right where the sand hits the sidewalk. It was well lit and despite the late hour there might still be people around.
Frank watched his topless blonde siren sway her hips as she walked towards the light. The girl untied one side of her bikini bottom, then made a show of sliding the yellow and black garment down her leg.
Harder.
The grown mans cock was harder than it’d ever been before. The pressure of the blood hammering into it was nearly painful.
“You’ll have to come here if you want it.”
Anne knelt, then bent forward. The side of her face pressed into the sand. The teen brought her knees together and stuck her rear as high into the air as she could manage. She reached back with both hands to pull at her cheeks and labia. To display her youthful holes.
He wanted it. He was going to get it.
“You dirty little slut. You really do want to be seen, don’t you?”
Anne nodded and moaned at the feeling of his tip rubbing against her. She was ready. Soaked. The abuse of her throat had gone a long way towards getting her body caught up with her mind. Stripping by the road had brought her the rest of the way.
“Yes. Yes, Mr. Morrison. I’m just a dirty slut. A bad little slut. I ne- ee- eed!”
It was the thickest thing that she’d ever had. Enough to stretch her. Enough to fill her. To make her squirm in the sand.
Frank wasted no time. Her reaction to being skull fucked told the man everything he needed to know. Anne liked it rough. With a slap on her firm ass he was off to the races giving his former student the hardest pounding of her life. She in turn did what she could to accommodate the fat penetrator ramming repeatedly into her fresh teen pussy.
“Oh my god. Oh my god!”
The dirty little slut wasn’t the one crying out.
A couple had come down the late night road and found Frank and Anne at the edge of sand and cement. They stood in shock, staring at the pair as they enjoyed the pleasures of the flesh. Anne stared back, making and maintaining eye contact with the man. Frank caught the attention of the woman. An awkward silence fell over the street. A quiet that was punctuated by the soft moans of a teenage girl and the sound of thigh slapping against thigh.
The pair didn’t slow down when they’d been caught. In fact, they sped up.
Frank could feel a pussy twenty two years his junior squeeze around him. He could see the grooves her fingers dug into the sand as her body tensed. He could hear a low moan through clenched teeth. Being used and being seen. Those were the girls kinks. The triggers that took her from a decent young woman to a moaning whore. Those and having older partners.
What Frank didn’t know was that it wasn’t the pseudo taboo of him being her teacher that had drawn Anne’s interest. It was his age. His distinguished look. His maturity. She had no interest in men her own age or anywhere near it. She had no interest in boys.
“Fuuuck!”
The couple hurried along as Anne cried out and writhed beneath her older sexual partner. Their presence had been appreciated. It wasn’t enough to fuck a man old enough to be her father in the open, she had to be seen doing it. People had to know. That’s what made it so much better.
Being watched was what Anne needed to go over the edge. What her science teacher needed to achieve that same blissful peak was feeling the muscular convulsions in a teenagers hot, wet hole.
It really was bliss.
Frank couldn’t care less about being caught and he didn’t give a damn about the consequences of his actions. Biology took over. Primitive. Primal. Animalistic. He tightened his grip on the girls hips and slammed his fat cock into her body as deep as it would go. The man groaned as he dumped his load into a woman less than half his age.
Anne and Frank parted ways a few hours before sunrise. It had been a good night. A really good night.
Exciting. Satisfying, both sexually and emotionally. And eye opening. Anne had never before realized just how much she liked being submissive. Or being seen. The experience was such that when she and Frank failed to find her bikini top, she just shrugged and decided to walk back to her hotel topless.
The few people she passed on her late night walk gave her looks. Looks of jealousy. Looks of desire. Of curiosity. All the looks were welcomed. Especially the looks of shock her friends gave her when she returned to their room.
The questions Betty and Chloe had went unanswered. Anne was tired. Exhausted. She collapsed on the bed, phone in hand, and sent her friends a picture that had been taken earlier that evening. A picture she hadn’t seen up until that point. A picture of her in a bar on her knees with a man’s balls in her mouth and cock slapped across her face. She looked happy.
She was happy.
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/ywh28s/first_taste_of_freedom_age_gap_public_play