Turning her attentions to the sensitive head, the cock-teaser showed how to tease a cock. A light fleeting kiss, a gentle nip, a long, rough, wet lick with her tongue. Then the "O" of her ruby lipped mouth encircled the cylinder of his passion and plied over the purpled arrowhead until a crick formed in the girl's contorted neck.
Bert said, his voice muffled, "I'm getting tired. Do you want me to come?"
Carole couldn't believe her ears. He was getting tired? Did she want him to ejaculate?
She increased the suction on the very tip of his cock, her tongue moving in figure eight patterns on the delicate underside, Carole felt the cock stiffen even more, begin to expand with an added complement of blood. Then, with a gush like a rocket launching, his come jetted into her mouth.
The blonde girl tried to back off but found powerful hands holding her head over his length. She had no choice but to take the entire stream, swallow, then take the next spurt as it erupted from his tube.
Bert heaved a big sigh as the last of his jism trickled from his cock. It had been one hell of a battle to keep from letting the girl know exactly how turned on he was. This was one of his biggest and most recurring wet dreams-being sucked off by Carole van der Hoff. And he had enjoyed it to the utmost, but he couldn't tell her that If he did, he'd lose her instantly.
He reflected back on everything that had happened. He had pegged her exactly. She was a cock teaser, all right, but Bert had figured out a way to stop her almost-love-em-and-leave-em ways. Everything he did put her down. He treated her like trash. Not overtly, nothing she could complain about and have anyone believe. But she knew he was interested, but in a distant way. He didn't consider her God's gift to mankind, and that piqued her interest in him, strengthened her resolve to get even. If he played his cards right she'd come back for more and more humiliation, and he could get her to do whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted.
Bert shoved her away as he said, Time to get you back home."
Carole looked up, opalescent come dripping down her chin. That's ail you have to say?"
"Yeah. I've had better blowjobs. By the way, here're your panties." He tossed them to the girl.
"But… but… aren't you going to… T She was dumbfounded. She had obviously expected him to fuck her then and there.
"You mean you actually expect me to ball you? Well," he said, making it sound like he was making a painful decision, "later. Maybe some other time."
Carole was struck speechless.
Chapter 8
Bert and Cruncher were hurrying along to their English class when Carole came running up, out of breath. "Oh, Bert, I'm glad I caught you. I was wondering if you wanted to go on a picnic this weekend. Up to the lake and.. "
"Sorry, Carole. Got a lot of homework. Maybe some other time." Bert pushed aside and continued on his way to class. Cruncher quickly spoke up. "If he can't go, Carole, how about the two of us going?"
She wilted him with a single glance, then hurried after Bert. "We could make it a week from now. No big thing, Bert."
He stopped, sighed and seemed to be thinking. "Ah right Maybe a week from now. But I can't really promise, you understand. All types of important things could come up between now and then."
"Great!" she enthused. "And how about a movie sometime this week?"
"A movie? Naw, I don't think so. I'm sort of broke right now."
"That's okay. We can go dutch treat Or I'll pay…"
Cruncher's mouth dropped open when he heard that. This was Carole van der Hoff? He checked her over. Luxurious blonde hair, patrician features, voluptuous body, voice like honey, yeah, this was Carole. But certainly not the Carole he was used to. The Carole he remembered with little fondness and great lust was avaricious and went for guys with money like a shark goes for blood.
This Carole actually offered to finance a date? And with Bert Ellis?
Cruncher studied his friend. Whatever it was that Bert had, Cruncher hoped it was contagious.
"No, Carole," Bert was saying, "I couldn't let you pay my way. That's just not the way it should be. You know?"
Carole seemed to be going over all the possibilities in her mind. Before she could come up with something else, Bert turned and walked off and never said another word to her.
Carole leaned back against a convenient brick wall and sighed. She had tried. The vague promise of going on a picnic in ten days loomed in her mind. Ten days and she'd be with Bert!
Then she'd make him pay for what he did to her that night.
As the blonde girl wandered off to class, several of her friends gathered in a tight circle and whispered, "Did you see that? I can't believe it"
"Carole offered to pay for the date!"
"He treated her like dirt, and she kept after him! I never… "
The talk went on until the bell rang and class began. The topic of discussion chosen by the teacher was far different that that being bandied around by the teenagers. They couldn't believe the old metamorphosis in their haughty companion. It had penetrated to them a long time ago that Carole van der Hoff had acquaintances, she did not have friends. She had people who might prove valuable to her. That was as close as anyone could get to her.
The following Monday at school was a repeat of the previous week. Bert would turn around and Carole would accost him, begging for a date or just to have lunch with him or to talk with him after school.
And to his friends' utter surprise, he kept putting Carole off.
"Why don't you come out and watch cheerleader practice, Bert?" she invited. Any of the five guys with Bert would have pounced on the invitation like a famished tiger leaping on a tasty villager. All of them had wandered out to see Laura, Judy, Consuela, Lynn-and Carole-leap and cavort around yelling cheers and launching themselves into the air, legs spread wide.
There wasn't a one who hadn't gotten a hard-on watching, either. To be invited to watch, with the promise of more personal attention afterwards was second only to be invited to share a bed with Catherine Deneuve.
Bert said, Td really like to, Carole, but Mr. Woodward's pushing me hard on a photo deadline right now. I've got to get the pictures done before Friday."
The number two photographer, Warren Pease, dunned in, "Ah, go on, Bert. You can get that spread done in less than an hour."
Bert looked at him, eyes cold, then replied in a tone that should have frozen hot water pipes all over the building. "I want to take my time and make sure the photos are the best I can do."
Turning back to.Carole, he said, I'm afraid I can't make it out to see you, Carole."
The girl's eyes flared. The five boys cringed, waiting for one of the famous Carole van der Hoff rages. But the fire in her eyes was something other than anger. Warren could hardly believe his ears when she said, That's okay, Bert. As Idng as you can make the picnic Saturday."
Bert's mouth thinned to a line, and he solemnly shook his head. "Boy, Carole, you're making me seem like some sort of a monster. I might have to turn you down on that, too."
Before he could concoct the rest of his negation, Carole chirped up with, "I can pose for you. For that contest. You can combine your work with some relaxation. You're working far too hard, Bert."
Warren and the other four had tiny beads of sweat on their foreheads. The interplay was unbelievable. Any of the five would have fallen all over himself accepting any of Carole's invitations, and here was Bert