Author's Comments
: Just because a writer writes about something does not mean they endorse any of it, or even a part of it. Likewise, just because a writer's characters act and react to situations and other characters in a certain way, does not imply that this a reflection of the writer's way of life. Fiction, though it does have to be rooted in reality to be believable, is not the truth, never the whole truth, and it certainly isn't nothing but the truth. All too often things are seen on TV, or heard on the radio, or even worse, read in the newspaper, and worst of all, gleaned from a book, and it's assumed that every word uttered or every thought written out must be gospel. Bullshit!
You want a case dead on point? In the third year of the popular sitcom Gilligan's Island, Vandenburg AFB in California and Hickham AFB in Hawaii were both being bombarded with demands from those loose-wheeled fringe elements of our society to mount immediate search and rescue operations to find those poor stranded people. Enough said? Point made?
All right, I've held you all captive from my convenient soapbox long enough. Let's go see what born cum-slut, Faith, is up to now.
* * * * *
After Cal had ravished me--and what a magnificent job he had done of that--I put on a robe and we went into the computer room where he showed me a couple of things unique to the system he had installed. Then, he had me sit in the chair and show him what I had learned, complementing me on how easily I picked things up. His genuine praise for my unconscious abilities meant as much to me as the way he could change in less then a breath and treat me like the nasty cum-slut I was just as easily becoming for him.
And, that is just exactly what my powerful black professor/possessor did. "Stand up, Slut." I stood. "Take of that robe." I took it off and dropped it at my feet. "Turn around and assume the position."
"The position?"
Cal spun me around, told me to take two steps back from the desk then lean forward and place my hands palm down on the desk. Without another word I did as I was told. "Spread your legs." I spread them wide apart and I can't remember ever feeling so open, so completely vulnerable in my life. I heard the distinctive sound of his zipper, some fumbling of cloth, and then the head of his cock was being nestled in the slick folds of my pussy. "Fuck back on it, Slut." I pushed back and his massive cock easily penetrated me to a depth that was both mildly uncomfortable, yet wildly stimulating at the same time. "Now, I'm going to stand here and you're going to fuck yourself on my cock."
Half of his thick cock was already imbedded in my cunt and I began fucking back onto the rest of it, gradually taking more and more of it into my steamy cunt. Cal grew impatient, grabbed my hips, and slammed me back the rest of the way onto into his cock. "Now it's a proper fit, Slut."
With Cal's cock now hitting the bottom of my vaginal canal, feeling as if it's firm head had actually entered my womb, I went off like an exploding time bomb. I rammed my over-stretched cunt on and off his fantastic cock time and time again, jerking forward until just the head was held captive inside my inflamed pussy, then lunging back to take the whole thing back into me all at once. I came, and I came, and I came again, until I could barely draw a ragged breath and my legs felt like they were going to give out at any second. But I didn't cease fucking myself on his cock. Cal hadn't cum yet, and no matter how many explosive orgasms I had to suffer through, no matter how weak my shaky legs became, I wasn't about to stop fucking his cock until I had pleased him properly.
I lunged and bucked like an insane Irish Beserker from that gory movie with Mel Gibson for another ten minutes. I know, because I could see the digital clock in the lower corner of the computer screen. I felt Cal's thick cock swell expectantly inside me and then I suddenly so empty I started to cry.
"Turn around, Slut. And don't you even think of straightening up."
With tears streaming down my cheeks, I turned around and as soon as my face came level with Cal's groin, he released the death grip he had on his cock. My face was immediately splattered with a jet of scalding cum. A second jet hit me square between my eyes before I had the sense to open my mouth wide. Two more jets of hot cum shot unerringly into my receptive mouth. I was shaking like an aspen leaf in a strong wind and cumming a growing puddle on the floor beneath me.
I fell to my knees, took his cock in my mouth and ravenously sucked the plump head as Cal jerked the thick shaft, pumping the dregs of his yummy cum onto my working tongue. I sucked until I was sure his balls were empty and that I had satisfactorily pleased him before swallowing the accumulated cum in my mouth.
Cal entwined his fingers in my hair and tilted my face up. "You pick up any more on that computer, as fast as you take to being a slut, and you're going to be showing me how to install and run that system in under a month."
I smiled up at him. "Like you said, I'm just a natural born cum-slut." I nodded at the computer desk behind me. "I'm more or less unconscious about what I'm doing with that thing."
Cal helped me to my feet. "It's already after 4:00, Faith. You better go get cleaned up before Regina gets here. You don't want to welcome her into the house still soiled with my jizz, do you?" He turned me around and slapped my ass. "Least, not on the outside, anyway."
"No, not on the outside," I giggled as I sprinted for the shower. There was still some of Cal's cum in my cunt, having cum so much myself just now, not nearly as much as when he had dumped that ungodly load into me on the bed, but enough for the Phone lady to discover for herself. Provided, that is, that our pizza/online girl party progressed far enough for sultry Regina to have her lush mouth firmly glued to my inflamed pussy.
* * * *
"Nice rags," Cal remarked when I came back into the computer room. "Real south-of-the-border flavor you got going there."
I was wearing a blood red, ankle-length skirt, a white peasant blouse--sans a bra, and sandals, accessorized with a silver concho belt resting on my hips and a heavy turquoise necklace around my neck. I twirled so the loose-fitting skirt flared out then lifted it to show him that I wasn't wearing any panties.