The Boo of Conrad

**Jasmine "Jazz" Kinney is trapped in a sexually unfulfilling marriage, one of servitude and obedience.

Conrad Powers is a school administrator bent on controlling and using women for his carnal pleasure, fulfilling most lovers darkest fantasy due to the equipment he packs in his pants. He has a collection of "Conradisms" developed and administered while chasing sex for sex's sake.

All characters involved in any sexual act here are 18 or older.

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The Book of Conrad - Ch. 01

The image of her lips, pressed against her husband were the first thing Conrad Powers, her new boss, saw before they spoke to each other for the first time.

"They were editing photos and a student found that from our prom photo booth website and made it my desktop," Jasmine "Jazz" Kinney said, her embarrassment visible. "I've tried to get that off of there, my apologies Mr. Powers."

"Conrad," the new principal said, insisting at their first staff meeting by they use his first name. "At least it's a very good picture of you two."

Jazz stunned, noticed Conrad towered over her, his perfect salt & pepper hair, smartly pressed suit - which got the ladies in the teacher's lounge stirred up - had her off balance now. Jazz was flush and in this awkward, uncomfortable moment, she couldn't help but open the door a crack to see inside her fading marriage.

"We're not like that, really," she said, her eyes moving from the screen to the floor then up to meet his. There was a pause in the conversation, the photo still on the screen, her words

"we're not like that, really" hanging in the air.

Conrad held her gaze for an extra moment, then said in response, "That's too bad for Doug," acknowledging the passion she displayed that leapt off the screen, her lips pressing into the man she married with a thirst.

Doug Kinney applied and interviewed for the principal position. Conrad had been selected for the job over Jazz's husband of 20 years, just something to add to the long list of disappointments Doug had racked up deservedly during that time.

Jazz was amazingly beautiful, long slender legs, torso, smooth face, with blonde, soft hair, always made up tastefully. Conrad noticed her sleak appearance the first day he met staff in the summer, during the yearly "inservice" days, and today was the first of many he would be dropping by her classroom.

"I'll have it off of there soon," Jazz stammered a little bit, hunching over the computer, showing Conrad her firm backside.

One thing that wasn't on Conrad's resume from his last job, was his experience at finding lonely women to satisfy his libido.

"Find a lonely, sex starved woman, and you'll get the milk for free as long as you play the game just right," Conrad told a colleague once when pressed why he'd never married again. "Especially the married ones."

In a notebook he kept in the top drawer of his desk at home, he wrote those exact words under the heading "Conradisms". Over the past few years he'd accumulated quite a few pithy statements and vowed to write a book at some point.

Conrad laughed to himself a little, watching the petite fawn struggle with the computer. Jazz felt herself getting nervous, the usual tick of adjusting her hair, shirt, was an evident tell to Conrad. She looked up and back to the screen, 'just leave' she thought but then that salt & pepper hair got her thinking the opposite her conscious saying, 'he's too old Jazz, too old.'

Jazz was lonely, even is she didn't realize it's depths. She worked in the same building as her husband and saw him at least a dozen times a day. Jazz worked so hard at the extra things she was rarely home before 10 p.m. and he coached all seasons. They were two ships passing in the night, after dealing with work and their four kids it was almost guaranteed that one would say they were "tired" if sex was even hinted.

Finally, the picture on the computer was replaced with the stock mountain scene and grumbling a bit Jazz turned quickly to leave.

'He was just staring at my backside I bet," she thought passing by him, feeling a little empowered holding his attention that long. Her pant style Jazz loved and would turn and admire her fit arse in the mirror dressing for the day.

"You forgot your computer," Conrad said with a chuckle, her about face turn and retrieval comically displaying her embarrassment. 'Conrad had the power her husband didn't have' she thought, her body heading back towards him willingly.

"Thanks," she said, catching and holding eye contact before slipping out the door. Jazz turned the corner of the hallway, pressed her back against the wall and closed her eyes. All she could see was the image of her kissing Conrad instead of Doug on the screen of her computer, giving Conrad the passion her husband failed to affirm.

"Jesus, shit!" she muttered pressing off the wall and walking down the empty hallway. Her juices began to moisten between her legs for the first time in a long time saying quietly "Jazz you've got to get it together."

Like a movie from the 1980s she turned back just as Conrad had emerged from the room, their eyes locked telling each other all they needed to know. Shaken again, she made a quick turn, her eyes closed for a moment running straight into Corbin.

"Jeez Mrs. Kinney," Corbin said, knocking the 220 lb. senior football player, who happened to be dating her daughter Monica, backward a step and they both caught the computer. "I thought you saw me."

"So sorry Corbin," Jazz said, now truly embarrassed, turning around to see Conrad's reaction, but he was gone, turning back to Corbin. "I'll be more carful next time."

Conrad had slipped back into her room and was studying the schedule she had pinned to the bulletin board. It was her class schedule, meticulously drawn up with the times listed. He looked around the room and everything was neat, clean and in it's place. He liked that, OCD women could construct the best alibis

Conrad smiled, plotting the next couple weeks out in his mind, the gestures of support for her class and program. Fulfilling her work goals would go a long way to getting on her good side. Just his presence, feeling the awkward tension each day, finding comments to respond to about her husband, her looks all would lay the groundwork for the inevitable.

His cock bristled and grew, thinking of the picture, being the man on the receiving end of the kiss, the passion she's been denied, feeling her hard flesh over the slick pants, sliding fingers into places begging to be explored. He moved back into the hall, slipped to his office and began to plot her pursuit.

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"Yes, yes," Jazz said, the unexpected words of approval from her administrator, glancing to the floor to see his well kept shoes, pressed pants. "I would certainly like a new camera and lens package for publications class. With the editing software upgrade?"

"Of course," Conrad said proudly, looking into her eyes then glancing down at the tasteful outline of her body, her smallish breasts tight against her blouse. "I saw it in an old purchase order request going through the system. You have so many quality pictures surrounding you, I figured it could help elevate your program."

Her room was filled with documented events, student activities and team pictures. The musical, elementary students singing and in just about every form or style of photography. It was very apparent Jazz knew what she was doing and good at what she does.

"If only my husband appreciated my work just 1/2 as much," Jazz heard herself say and doubled down. "Having a picture of his state championship earned a photography award, and you'd think he'd say thanks, or something."

"Oh, I'm sure he was grateful," Conrad seeing the opening to further push the disconnect between the two.

"Ha!" she burst out with a guttural, deep reaction to the suggestion Doug gave any affirmation. "He barely looked up from his phone when I told him."

"Well I hope this helps your program and you can roll off award after award," Conrad purposefully gave her a once over, his eyes moving from hers, down her body and back up to her eyes. "Where do you shop for your outfits, they're very becoming."

He paused, her next response was vital because if she showed any hint of being put off he'd have to reconsider if she was the one to pursue. Conrad noticing several good looking staff members and one single gal who looked to be a fun ride.

"Ah, well, thank you," Her shy, nervous smile told him she was certainly the one and had already given him consideration. "Just online and careful watching of the sale racks."

She immediately felt her body warm up, her gaze down to the floor then back up to his face where his smile just melted her on the spot. Jazz could feel the next comment coming, almost predicting it was going to be funny and endearing.

"We'll have to see about a raise," He said tilting his head a little, not looking directly down but she could feel him scan her cleavage, her skin. "Imagine what you could do buying seasonal markups."

"I doubt you have that much pull with the superintendent yet," she said, now entering a flirty banter, her smile now broad, her hand cupping her elbow as she ran a finger on her cheek.

"You'd be surprised," Conrad said. "I'm pretty convincing."

She wanted to say, 'I bet you are in many ways,' a comment that would leave the door wide open, declaring her level of convincing right there in her room, alone with such a handsome man.

"You do what you can, but I'm not going to hold my breath," she said instead acknowledging his statement, but it wasn't the time or place.

"I'll work on that," he said, the shirt and tie combination telling her he shopped at fine stores, beside outlining the push-ups and weights he had to have been lifting. Conrad wished her a good day and left, showing her his sculpted backside, fitted pants showing off his shapes, ones her overworked husband couldn't produce anymore.

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"Heaven is not for young ladies who dream of the flesh," Jazz's mother, Kimberly Kratz, would say often to her growing up.

Daddy was in the field or at the bar, and her slender, good looking mother would caution her through her childhood and once she turned 13, night and day about sin and sex.

"Stay virtuous," she would remind young Jazz.

Jasmine Kratz did just that, she stuck to her studies, her chores and her athletics. The only girl, the oldest, in a family of four boys, she was both tom-boyish and demure, holding her mother's lady like demeanor, and figure all her life.

Conrad had Jazz off her game, distracted and in that moment she was just plain horny and needed to do something about what she was feeling. She rarely had time, or the motivation for pleasuring herself, but between Conrad's good looks and Doug's lack of, well, anything, she felt she deserved it tonight.

Jazz's four children were occupied with activities that night, her husband was coaching and she had the house to herself for the next two hours, which was a rarity, Jazz was cognizant of this time and rushed home drew a bath and on her iPad called up her favorite erotica site - Literotica. She needed some form of satisfaction.

Oh, what her mother would think, she used to say to herself as a young woman, in college, finding the pleasure of her own hand. It started when she had confronted her dorm roommate about the noise emanating from the upper bunk while the busty young woman satisfied herself.

"These boys can't do it for me like I can do it for myself," her roommate said, then becoming surprised when Jazz admitted to have never masturbated.

Drunk, her roommate explained how to get off, how to examine the pussy with her fingers and find her spots. Jazz was still a virgin, early her freshman year, and late one night while her roommate was sleeping over with someone, she played with herself for the first time.

Tonight the bath salts filled the air with floral scents, she cracked the window and the slight breeze brought in the earthy tones from the adjacent pasture. There was enough shade covering the window to hide her soon to be naked frame, but the open space made it feel dangerous.

Jazz had carefully laid her shirt, her slacks down on the bed and stood in front of the body length mirror. She liked her body, especially in the black lace bra and panty, her right hand slid over her stomach, feeling it's flatness, proud of her morning workouts.

She rubbed around the top of the lace, letting her finger slip under and run her hand over her bush, letting her finger play with her clit, watching it push the fabric up, then disappear as she inserted just a little. She rubbed her trimmed mound with her hand, bringing one up to her breast, sliding under the bra to roll the nipple.

Stepping out of her panty then uncoupling her bra, tossing both on the bed she stood naked before herself. Jazz quickly slipped her middle finger inside, pushing deep, getting her juices flowing, moaning into the afternoon, watching her face contort a little, enjoying seeing he finger disappear inside herself.

"Ohhh Jazz," she breathed into the room, pushed in and out a few times, sliding her long fingers out of her pussy before heading to the tub to dream of Conrad entering her again and again.

Jazz first just played and read, getting herself worked up, her fingers brushing the hood of flesh at the top, sliding through the folds lengthwise, reading about extra-marital "arrangements" or tit-for-tat fuckery.

"YES! CONRAD!" she said semi-loudly into the country afternoon air, out the window. Her fingers down plowing into her cunt, riding them until she climaxed, picturing the tall, older, sleek man, cumming inside her. "OHHHH YESSS!"

"Oh, Conrad..." she whispered slowing down, still pushing in deep, the quivers running over her flesh.

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Conrad finally began his book. He felt confident with his progress with Jazz writing his thoughts and beliefs down.

Conradism #1-

"Find a lonely, sex starved woman, and you'll get the milk for free as long as you play the game just right. Especially the married ones."

Conrad had run across Jazz and was well on his way to playing the game right, being attentive showing up in her room after school, talking about her kids, listening her lament about her husband Doug. He felt once an opening came he would take it and go from there.

Conradism #2-

"Find the wedge and give them opportunity to hammer it deeper. You don't have to do the work, just point it out by countering what they say."

The wedge Conrad was driving between Doug and Jazz didn't just divide, it drove the attraction deeper with every encounter. When Jazz complained about her husband Doug Conrad didn't make excuses for him, nor did he pile on, he simply added something funny or insightful. She shared more and more each visit to her room and Conrad was more charming in his divisive response.

Outside of school Conrad was working on his third Conradism, putting to play a successful strategy each weekend on the bike trail. Each successful encounter with a married woman he'd ever had was set up with finding a single gal first.

Conradism #3 -

Work on more than one woman in separate workplaces, looking for a long and a short play and be sure someone who knows the long play woman knows about the short play.

Conrad pushed his hips forward, parting the young bartenders cunt with his cock, swollen from over 30 minutes of Conrad's mouth pressed between her legs, tongue deep, his cock now the beneficiary slipping forward quickly, its length playing her folds like a violin bow.

"Oh...oh,oh, ohhhhh, OHhhhh. OHHHHHHHH YES!!!!!!!" Nikki, the slender, tan, firm breasted bartender/manager moaned louder with each passing inch. "Give it to me! GIVE IT TO ME!"

Her scent and flavor was in Conrad's nose, covering his tongue, his mouth and face. Holding her hips with his hands, sliding further forward, he finally landed balls deep inside Nikki, leaning forward as she took all of his might.

"You like cock, baby, you love cock," Conrad whispered, his tight muscular body covering hers, lips now sucking on the side of her tattooed neck. "I'll always know, a good fuck likes cock"

"Yes," Nikki breathed, feeling the length and width inside her body. She was amazed when his shorts came down, releasing from the spandex, at it's size. Conrad slid his hips back and thrust inside again. "OH GOD YES!"

He reached around with his right hand, cupping a dangling breast, feeling the stud that pierced it's nipple, the large areola smooth, the tip pointy. He marveled at her body and that the two of them had gotten here so quickly, talking at the bar and now their bodies joined.

He noticed how Nikki's breasts held shape, firm, his hands moving from the left to right, playing with and, twisting the studs, pulling, getting quick moans and sighs from the woman 20 years his younger.

"Mmmm, pinch the tip," she cooed as Conrad's hands explored, his cock moved just inches back and quickly back forward. "OhhhhhHeaven..."

Conrad's head leant into her neck, the smell of her long, braided, gold and black hair, confirmed her affinity to smoke weed on breaks, something she mentioned flirting with him. He wanted to wrap his hands in it and pull a little, maybe later he thought, it was time to take her further.

Conrad let go of her breast, still pushing his cock inside her, his right hand rubbing between her shoulder blades where the rose tattoo curled and split to both shoulder blades. The lovely body graphic had shoots that curled around her torso, under her breasts, one the first thing he noticed about her peaking out of her tank top while she tended bar.

"Hang on baby," Conrad said pulling back and thrusting forward with all his weight sending her off her hands into the pillows.

"FUCK YES!" She muttered, face into the pillows then pivoting her head to look back at her impulsive conquest, he pulled back again and thrust again, and again, and again the pleasure emanating from her lips. "OH FUCK! OH FUCK! OH YESSSS!"

Conrad would see Nikki behind the bar each Saturday when he would ride his bike a few miles down the tail, get a water and coffee there, before going 20-40 miles and stopping on the way back afterwards. He could relax and watch baseball and now football, and he got to know the servers and some of the patrons.

Two months ago, when he started visiting the bar along the bike path, he would have bet Synthia would be below him taking his ample cock. She was older (mid-40s) compared to Nikki, a divorced mother of four, who immediately took a liking to him, backing the other women servers off when he would sit down.

"YES! FUCK YES! Jesus...Jesus...KEEP IT GOING! YES!" Nikki called out with each thrust. Conrad wondered how many of her lovers would have came right there, feeling her skill beneath his body, seeing the outline of her frame, naked below, taking cock so expertly, pushing back at the right time. Conrad was pulling at Nikki's waist, wearing her on his shaft, deep inside, in and out, deep inside stroke after stroke.

Conrad reached back and slid his hands down the outside of her thighs, still pumping with the same rhythm, her orgasms had to be multiple, her body shuddering a little, he moved his knees backwards. She was the perfect weight and size for something he hadn't done in quite a long time. He walked her back with him, pulling her onto his cock, holding her there with pressure on her tattooed thighs.

Conrad steadied himself placing one foot on the floor, then the other, pulling the long hair braided, tan, naked body to him, guiding her legs and feet around him at the waist. She clamped on instinctively, sealing their pelvises.