Commissioned Side-chapter 1: raperr
Paul's prey was clothes-shopping with her friends. The gaggle of excited young women were showing each-other various articles of clothing. Joking about who'd look the best or sluttiest in them. Discussing what would get them the most dick. Little did they know, they were being observed through a rack of coats.
With practiced ease, he used his phone to take a photo, his software tagging their faces and searching through social media. Storing the information away for later, he kept observing them. The focus of his attention was the petite redhead, Michelle. Toned legs and a slim waist. A tomboyish woman in conservative clothing. Black skirt reaching to just above the knees of her shapely legs. A navy-blue cardigan hugged her upper body, outlining her firm breasts and taut stomach. Something Paul was looking forwards to see without the covering textile.
Her cute face was blushing behind her thick-rimmed glasses. Laughing nervously at a raucous joke, she ran her hand through her red, pixie-cut hair. She just radiated innocence and naivety, something that made Paul's loins stir. Idly caressing his stiffening cock through his pants, he kept up his watch. He loved nothing more than defiling that which was pure and beautiful. To bring depravity into their lives and leave them forever remembering him and his deeds.
He'd been stalking his prey for three weeks now. Many would have lost patience at this point. Overcome with their depraved urges and pounced. Paul though, was used to it. He knew that to properly catch his prey, he had to be smart. Learn her habits, her schedule. Who she knew and who might be expected to be with her, and when. Only then could he count on properly catching her off-guard and alone. Vulnerable to his depraved intentions.
Asides from Michelle, the group was scantily clad. And when one of them bent over, to pick up a pair of stilettos, Paul could see her shaved pussy peek out from behind her mini-skirt. Enticing as the sight might be though, Paul's focus was on the shy tomboy, as he kept stroking his bulge.
Thinking back to last week, he remembered when he'd visited the booty-bar. Seeing the woman at her workplace had been quite the contrast. She'd gone through a transformation there. Instead of her reserved, conservative clothing, she'd been dressed in nothing but pasties. Nipples and pussy barely covered. Her anus was stretched around the neck of a bottle that ended in a tap.
She'd been serving a couple having their wedding-anniversary. Positioned on all four on top of a platform. Her divine ass in front of them, as they sat side by side. The couple lovingly holding hands, as they slurped their pasta off her lovely butt-cheeks. Licking up the sauce as it dribbled down between the two full globes.
Paul had chuckled as the couple replayed that famous scene, from The lady and the tramp. Sucking on either end of a strand of spaghetti. Kissing as they reached the middle. They'd started making out, as the wife fondled the side of the glorious booty that was their plate for the evening. The furiously blushing table looked back at them surreptitiously, at the sound of moaning and heavy petting. She returned her gaze downwards again as the couple broke off their kissing. The wife giving a light slap to the butt, causing it to jiggle hazardously with the food on top of it.
The wife gave a tipsy giggle before grabbing her champagne-flute. Putting it under the tap sticking out of Michelle's ass, she pulled on it and pushed the button. The champagne flowed out of the internal bottle, which stretched the table's poor sphincter, as she pulled on it. Having filled her glass up, she'd grabbed her husband's. This one slowly started filling but soon the flow stopped. Trying to get the last of the drink out, she pushed and pulled on the bottle. Fucking the blushing redhead's ass. Shaking the object inside of her.
Frowning, the husband had asked. "It seems to have run out dear, should we order another bottle?"
"No. I think I've got a better idea. Finish up the food honey and we'll get to it."
Finishing their food they'd licked the peach-butt clean of every piece and droplet. Clinking the filled and half-filled champagne flutes together they spoke. "To ten wonderful years together." "And to many more to come." "Now dear, don't drink that yet, close your eyes and open your mouth, with your tongue out."
As he did as told, the wife grabbed the tap of the bottle, starting to slowly but relentlessly pull it out.
Michelle struggled to stay still as she moaned from the treatment. Centimeter by centimeter, the thin bottle was extracted. Until it was discarded on the ground next to them. Leaving a twitching opening where it had been. Gently grabbing the back of her husbands head she guided the tongue into the anus of their table. She'd grabbed one of the glasses and lifted it up. Holding it between the two large cheeks, she started slowly pouring the champagne out.
The champagne ran down the crack, down to the anus and the tongue that was probing it. The husband happily started sucking and wiggling his tongue. Lapping up the liquid and indulging in his love for ass at the same time.
Paul, watching this, had started looking forwards more and more to when he got his hands on his target. He'd take out all his pent up frustration and need on her, and leave that ass properly marked and bruised.
