chpt7.txt (of bert)
                     Chapter 7

  Bert eventually convinced Robin that she should intervene in his
behalf and try to arrange a date with Carole. The older woman had
apparently been successful because Bert had managed to creep up
behind Carole in the hallway between classes.
  He studied her curves as he surreptitously approached her. The
youth was not certain of his reception, and it did seem that Carole
had been pointedly avoiding him since the episode with Robin in the
shower. Her mother had promptly twisted her arm to go out with
Bert. The boy was almost certain that this was the rationale behind
Carole's reluctance to meet him face to face. If she did, she would
be forced to accept the date. If she could avoid him, the girl
could alibi off by saying he had never asked.
  Bert's determination to make it with Carole was unabated, but he
had been considering everything that Cruncher and several others
had said. He had even checked a book out of the library...the
public library, not the school library. He wasn't sure the staid
and aged school librarian would have wanted a copy of Krafft-Ebing
around. That had given him a couple of ideas that would certainly
be worth trying with Carole. The usual approaches to her seemed to
be fraught with nothing but dicouragement. Perhaps the unusual
would work.
  He certainly couldn't lose by trying. She was truly a sight that
made him stiff. That lovely, flowing blonde hair, just the right
shade, and natural. No bleach bottle for Carole. And her body was
a gourmet's delight. Carole managed to dress for the full impact on
the male libido, whether she realized it or not.
  From his readings, Bert didn't think she realized what she was
doing. A classic case of approach avoidance. She made herself
irresistable to a male, then did every possible thing she could, at
the last moment, to avoid getting involved. A cock teaser.
  Bert hoped that his assesment of Carole's attitude was correct.
He also hoped that he had understood what he had read. If so, soon
Carole would be eating out of his hand and he would be eating out
another part of Carole's anatomy.
  But he had to get that all important first date. Then he could
try out his scheme and see it it worked. He quietly stalked his
quarry, her back to him as he advanced. Bert reached out and laid
a gentle hand on Carole's shoulder. For a brief second, both
reacted identically.
  Bert was treated to a breathtaking vista of Carole's barely
fettered breasts from her unbuttoned blouse. The top three buttons
were unfastened in direct violation of the school dress code, but
none of the male instructors would dare mention it to her. The few
female crones that might, Carole scrupulously avoided. Bert's eyes
dived like a bathyscape into the Marianas Trench of her twin peaks,
studying the terrain of the deep valley between her boobs. If
anything, she was better endowed than her mother.
  Carole's reaction was different. She had been trapped by the very
guy she most wanted to avoid.
  Bert didn't give her a chance to bolt and run. "Glad I finally
found you, Carole. I wanted to ask you to the school dance Friday.
Your mother says you do not have a date yet." Bert added the last
to drive home the point that Carole had a duty to go on at least
one date with him.
  "Oh, well, Bert, I don't know." Her brillant blue eyes drifted
toward the floor as she furiously thougth of some lie she could
tell that would get her off the hook.
  "Sure you can, Carole. No cheerleaders practice, no tests or
homework due the next day - and you don't have a date." In front of
her friends, that latter statement would carry the most pressure.
Carole hated that her girlfriends had heard she had not gotten a
date to the dance.
  The girl's eyes elevated upward until she stared into Bert's
ingenuous brown ones. "All right, Bert. I suppose I can make it."
  He flashed his smile and said, "Great. Pick you up at seven. See
you Friday." He waved jauntily as he went to class.
  Bert exhaled a long, pent up breath in relief. So far so good.
Now for Friday night.
  The week spurted by in odd patterns of molasses and greased
lightning. The interminably long parts were in class. The ones that
fled by far to fast were occasional after school tutoring lessons
with Julia, sometimes both Julia and Barbara and one long, long
session with Alana in the darkroom. He had spent two hours getting
the table in the darkroom cleaned and scrubbed of all noxious
chemicals. Screwing on a formica surface wasn't the best of all
possible places, but the darkroom did afford a little bit of
privacy, a door that could be locked, reason for being gone for an
hour or two at a time and did not cause people to ask embarrassing
questions.
  That aspect no longer bothered Bert. Let them hint and ask all
the questions they wanted. he could toss off a jocular answer that
may or may not be pertinent to what the inquisitor wanted to know.
  Mr. Woodard, for instance, had inquired as to the progress Bert
was making on the next photo assignment for the school newspaper.
Bert had replied, "I'm still working on the basic layout with
Alana."
  "Yeah," his instructor had answered, "I know that, but how is the
project coming?"
  "Coming hard and fast, sir."
  Woodward shot him a look that combine curiosity and complete
amusement.
  Bert added, "Things are developing nicely."
  Woodward sighed. "Just be sure to get everything into the stop
before you fix it good. Some things don't wash off, you know."
  "And some things don't run off either!" Bert replied.
  Woodward had laughed at that. "You lucky son of a bitch. Get out
of here!" The man shook his head in amusement when Bert left. He
wondered what woman (women?) had changed this mousy teenager into
a real tiger.
  Friday classes seemed to be drenched in glue. Every second was an
hour, every hour an eternity. Even Miss Munoz class was something
of a drag. Miss Munoz had dressed like a nun, all in black which
could have been ultra-sexy but wasn't. Bert knew Miss Munoz and Mr.
Theodore (of the ten inch dong) had a confrontation and their
relationship was on the skids. Not that he cared, in fact, it might
mean that he would have more opportunitues to get into Miss Munoz'
pants but he was concerned about the time it might take. Right when
he needed every second he could muster into seducing Carole.
  Bert Ellis decided he would cross that bridge when he got
to it.
  Friday's last class vanished and Bert raced home. He had been
studying his closet for three days choosing the exact sartorial
elegance to don and most impress Carole. He had finally decided
that his gray and black checked shirt with black pants, black shoes
with tiny buckles and black socks would be the most effective.
  He pivoted in front of his dresser mirror and studied him- self
with a critical eye. Bert had to admit that his garb was sinister,
made him seem a trifle aloof, and yet no one could say anything was
ususual about his dress.
  Carole's subconscious would register the full effect, even if her
conscious mind did not. And right now, he had to work on her at an
elemental level, then work up, hopefully along her legs to her
golden furred snatch.
  Bert combed his hair and sprayed it with some abominable smelling
stuff that was suppposed to keep it from flopping all over the
place whenever a light wind blew. The dance tonight would require
a bit of moving around, and he didn't want to continually have to
drag a comb through his hair. It would detract from the cool, suave
and slightly bored attitude he wanted to convey.
  He left his house at seven o'clock on the dot knowing it would
take a minimum of fifteen minutes to arrive at the van derr Hoff
house. The youth wanted to be intentially late. All part of his
act, his seeming ennui with the whole evening.
  The teenager pulled up in front of Carole's house twenty minutes
late. He casually walked up the path to the door, knowing Carole
was probably watching his every move and seething inside, angry as
hell!
  The chime had barely died when the door was swung open by Robin.
The look on her face was something of a mixture of anger and
confusion. In a low voice she said, "Bert! I thought you'd never
get here. Carole's been ready for ten minutes. Do you want to go
out with her or not?"
  Bert smiled ingratiatingly and said in a normal tone, "Good
evening, Mrs. van der Hoff. Is Carole ready yet?"
  Robin shot him a venomous look, then motioned him in. He
immediately took his place on the loveseat as Robin said, "She'll
be ready in a couple of minutes." The civilation-old make the mail
wait routine, seemed a bit trite and useless since he had turned
the tables so neatly. It no longer appeared he was the eager
stallion trotting after the filly, but rather that the filly was
slightly stupid not being ready after an inexcusable delay.
  Carole appeared in a few minutes, and Bert had to re- strain a
gasp. She was dazzling. Her very radiance brightened the room
immensely. She had obviously dressed to impress him to the utmost.
The turquoise dress seemed to float about her body, clinging here,
flowing there. All the heres and theres were strategically placed
for maximum effect on any red blooded male.
  The decolletage of the dress was as improbable as it was heart
wrenching. The sharp V notch of the neckline plunged far down past
the bottom of Carole's compact melon-sized breats. Umbra danced and
masked vital portions of her partially exposed tits in a cunningly
designed fashion. Bert allowed a slight smile to creep across his
lips as he said, "Good evening, Carole. Ready to go or do you need
a few more minutes to get dressed?"
  The teenager started to duck as Carole picked up her purse. He
was certain she would fling it at him in rage at his implied
insult. Instead, her face fell into a wooden mask that smiled
mechanically.
  "I'm ready. Let's go." Ice dribbled from every word.
  Bert carefully studied anew. The hemline of her dress was perfect
for what he had in mind for the main event later in the evening. It
came to mid-thigh. The photographer thanked his lucky stars that
Carole had not chosen to wear stockings. That would have
complicated things to the point of idiocy on his part.
  Who knew? It might be nothing but stupidity that he planned. But
he would soon know.
  "I want to say good-bye to your mother." Bert turned his back to
Carole and went into the kitchen where Robin was stuffing the
dinner dishes into the dishwasher.
  "I just wanted to tell you, Mrs. van der Hoff, that I'll have
Carole back before midnight. We'll be at the school dance - it's in
the gym - and we'll probably to to Dan's Den for a hamburger
afterwards."
  Robin's lips compressed into a tight line. "I don't know what
game you're playing, Bert, but you'd better watch yourself. I'll
see you burn in hell if you..."
  "Good night, Mrs. van der Hoff," he said, cutting off her low
voiced tirade.
  Bert returned to the fuming Carole and said, "Let's go now. I
wanted your mother to know where we'd be."
  As they walked to the car, Carole asked, a note of curiosity
creeping into her soft voice, "And what did you tell her?"
  "I told her that you wanted to fuck me, and we'd be going to a
motel. What did you expect me to tell her?" Bert slammed the door
behind Carole with a trifle more force than necessary.
  He went around and got in behind the wheel. He keyed the car to
life and took off.
  "Did you really tell Mom that?"
  "You know I didn't since you were listening through the door! 
Don't try to be coy or more dense than you have be, OK? I just want
to have a good time tonight, and you asking silly questions isn't
going to make it."
  Carole promptly crumpled in the seat, clutching at the door
handle as if she planned to leap out at the next street light. She
retreated into a shell of silence and uttered not a single word
until they arrived at the high school gym.
  They passed be the hideous statue of Walter Williams, after whom
the school had been named. Carole idly remarked, "I wonder why they
cast him with his mouth open like that?"
  Bert snorted. "He probably wouldn't stop screaming when they
poured the bronze around him."
  Carole spun in amazement, her mouth half open in surprise. She
quickly clamped it shut when she saw Bert didn't appear to be
kidding. His tone and face said that he was dead serious. His mouth
had a slight smile.
  She shivered slightly although the evening was still and warm.
What kind of a warpo had she mistakenly allowed to have a date with
her? In spite of herself, however, the thougth was a bit ludicrous,
and she was silently amused. But Bert Ellis was definitely not her
type, not the way he had been treating her so far. It was as if she
were...beneath his notice!
  She, Carole van der Hoff, head cheerleader, most popular girl in
school, man killer, was being ignored as if she simply was not
important. She'd show that stupid bastard what it meant to be with
a real woman!
  Bert, when he was in plain view of anyone else, was the perfect
gentleman. He opened the door for Carole, made the rounds
introducing her to various friends of her that she didn't know. He
even introduced her to Cruncher.
  "...and this is Carole. I suppose you two already know each
other...since Crucher told me so much about you. After all, you two
do see each other all the time..on the field...so to speak."
  Carole didn't know whether to be insulted or not. Was Bert merely
being tongue-tied and obtuse?  Was he implying that she knew this
neanderthal football player intimately?
  She decided she would turn the tables on him, turn on her charms
full blast and let this Cruncher be the lucky recipient. "I've
always admired the way you just smash right on through and take out
all those big guys intent on running over the quarterback."
  "Well sometimes I play the defensive line, too. I sort of enjoy
being the one to dump the quarterback."
  "Oh that's marvelous!" Carole squealed in glee, almost to the
point of jumping up and down and clapping her hands in cheerleader
fashion.
  Bert took her elbow and maneuvered her away before she realized
what was happening. "Over here is the school paper's editor. You
know Alana, I guess. You cheerleader types seem to know everyone."
  Alana's reception was markedly different from Cruncher's. The big
tackle had been turning on the charm as much as Carole had been.
Carole was met with pure, unadulterated hatred here. And Bert
seemed intent on lingering, making lewd innuendoes with this black
bitch and talking about trivial matters.
  The band blared out its first song, but still Bert talked on with
Alana. Just as Cruncher started over, his intent obvious, Bert
grabbed Carole by the arm and guided her out to the dance floor.
"Enough talk for now. Let's dance."
  The girl couldn't get into the flow of the music, and her
movements were those of a poorly coordinated marionette. Bert
flowed and glided with easy grace. Soon, Carole was beginning to
feel completely out of synch with everything going on around her,
a new and disquieting feeling. She normally dug these dances. They
gave her a chance to flaunt her multitudimous charms, bedazzle male
onlookers and generally have a fine time.
  Tonight, nothing was going right. Her dancing, normally sinuous
and vaguely lewd and suggestive, was clumsy. It was Bert who shone,
who had the envious eyes of both sexes on him.
  Carole didn't understand that. Not completely. The male admirers
were to be expected. He had a date with her. But the feminine
attraction to this zilch of a photographer was inexplicable. Carole
wracked her brain and failed to find the answer. He treated her
like dirt. Polite, well mannered, but disinterested. And yet all
the other girls cast envious eyes on him.
  There was a suavity, an assured air about him that seemed
preternaturally embodied in his actions. Carole was both attracted
and repulsed. She couldn't decide if she hated him or not.
  "Bert, let's leave here and get something to eat. I'm feeling
hungry." She wasn't the least bit famished, but it was an excuse to
allow her to escape from the myriad of eyes focused on them. She
had long ago learned that, in the middle of an embarrassing
situation, it paid to cut it as short as possible. Leaving now was
the best thing she could do.
  She was half-afraid Bert would refuse to leave. He sur- prised
her when he rapidly assented. "Okay, let's go on out to the car.
And if we get to the hambuger joint early, it won't be crowded."
  Carole breathed a sigh of relief as they left the gym. The cool
night air quickly evaporated some the sw%at that had trickled down
the deep crevice of her bosom and made her feel uncomfortable.
Outside, alone, she decided she might be able to turn the tables on
her escort. Using tricks she had long since perfected might just
make Bert Ellis as uncomfortable as he had made her all night long.
  She moved closer to the boy, took his arm and hung on like a
drowning person gripping a life preserver. "Bert," she cooed, "do
we really have to go and get something to eat first? I'd rather
just drive around. Maybe we could... park and...look at the
lights." Her voice was low and seductive. And when Carole tried,
she could be very seductive.
  Bert turned to her and put both arms around her, looked down into
her icy blue eyes and softly responded, "You don't want anything to
eat? What a pity." Bert's next movement was lightning fast. His
arms still encircled her, but his hands flashed underneath her
skirt, found the elastic band of her panties and quickly pulled
them down her slender legs.
  It took an instant for the girl to realize the liberty he was
taking with her. Carole tried to kick him. That was a mistake. It
allowed Bert to slip the blue silk panties off one foot, then the
other. He stood, holding the telltale underwear just beyond her
grasp.
  "Dammit, give me those back!" she cried.
   Bert kept his voice low. "I wouldn't want to cause a scene if I
were you. If you scream, you'll have a lot of people out here. And
then you'd have to explain to all of them how I just happened to
get you panties and...stuff them into my pants pocket." He tucked
the last tiny slip of the silk into his front pocket. "They'd be
asking you questions, not me."
  The blonde's mind furiously raced. Bert was right, damn him! He
had treated her politely in front of the others; it was she who had
the reputation for putting men into embaressing situations. Who'd
believe that he had managed to get her undies off so slickly?
  A trembling note crept into her voice. "What do you want?" She
was truely fightened now. There was no limit to what she would do
to get those panties back.
  "Let's go get something to eat. Dan's Den is as good as any."
Bert turned to go to his car.
  Incensed, in spite of herself, Carole indignantly exclaim- ed,
"Is that all!" She couldn't believe her ears.
  "That's all. Let's go."
  At the restaurant, Bert insisted on going inside to eat. Carole
refused to sit next to her date and steadfastly dropped into the
seat opposite Bert's. He smiled broadly as if expecting her to do
exactly as she had done. That elusive smile made Carole feel funny
inside, like she'd made a mistake and didn't know exactly what it
was.
  Bert ordered and sat talking about inconsequential things.
School, teachers, even the weather. All the time, he intently
watched her. Carole knew what was going through his mind. He knew
she didn't have any panties on and that damned short skirt dress
kept riding up due to the smooth vinyl seat.
  The blonde wiggled to arrange her dress so that it would not hike
up and expose her nakedness. The more she squirmed, the more Bert
smiled. Carole was rapidly becoming furious with him. Bert Ellis
was toying with her, making her jump through hoops whenever he
snapped his fingers, and she did not like it. Not one bit.
  Carole was just ready to declare it a night when she felt a cold
presence between her tightly clenched thighs. With a firm
insistence it pushed up until it reached her snatch. The girl
reached under the table and found Bert's foot ed- ging toward her
pussy.
  Frightened eyes fastened on Bert's cool, composed face. He said
in a level voice, "Put your hands on the table and don't resist.
You'd never be able to explain it, not with the crowd coming in."
  Carole cast a frightened glance behind her and saw sever- al of
her friends coming in. The dance must have reached a point of
boredom where more left than stayed. And they had all come to the
favorite hangout of the Walter Williams Memorial High School crowd.
  The girl jumped slightly as Bert's big toe wiggled its way into
her cunt. Her eyes widened in horror as she realized what he was
doing to her. He was actually thrusting his big toe in and out of
her cunt as if he were fucking her! And she couldn't do or say a
thing about it. Not in public. Who would ever believe her?
  Who could honestly believe that she had allowed him to take off
her panties without a struggle? That she would agree to go into a
public place without any undies? That she would let him diddle her
with his big toe? She'd gone too far already not to let him
continue!
  Bert continued his impassive, almost monotone speech. But he knew
what was going through the blonde's cock-teasing mind as surely as
if he were a telepath. Even more to the point, he could feel the
thin juices of her lust oozing from her pussy to trickle around his
toes.
  He felt the soft inner thigh of Carole's leg against the arch of
his foot. It seemed perfectly moulded for this odd fornication in
public. This mock copulation that he did not reveal and she could
not.
  Carole panicked. She could feel herself getting moist in the
crotch where the boy's toe gently stroked back and forth. He would
start on the vinly, trace his toe along her perineum and then
caress her cuntal lips. The inner fluids she leaked out frightened
her. Without meaning to, she was egging him on, giving him a reason
to further humiliate her. And yet, who but she knew what was
happening?
  She looked around and saw her friends, snuggling close to
boyfriends, hands fluttering under the tables groping for various
portions of the other's anatomy. Carole and Bert appeared to be
distant, even polar toward each other. He spoke quietly, a monotone
that would put most people to sleep. And she sat across the table
from him, continually pulling her dress down like a sedate young
lady.
  Could she carry out the charade? Could she keep from  showing the
emotion she felt? Carole began tearing the napkin into tiny strips
to alleviate the nervous tension building in her body. As Bert's
toe stroked up and down her sex, lances of fire leaped up into her
belly and destroyed her normally composed behavior.
  She must not show any unusual emotion!
  As the wandering digit prodded against her fully erect clitoris,
Carole almost came. She clenched down hard on her napkin, bit her
lower lip and looked out the window beside thier booth.
  The waitress placed the greasy hamburgers in front of the pair,
then solicitously asked, "You all right, honey? You look like
you're, uh..." her voice lowered as she continued "...you're having
a hot flash."
  The waitress glanced at Bert, embarrassed that she'd been so
forward in front of her date.
  Bert suavely said, "That's quite all right, She's just having a
momentary hunger pang. Isn't that so, Carole?" He punctuated his
question with another long, wiggly excursion into her love hole.
  Carole's blonde head bobbed up and down. "He's right I... I'm
ff..ffeeling weak from...hunger."
  The waitress looked skeptical but said nothing else. She had ten
other tables to serve and didn't have time to waste with one chick
in the middle of her period.
  Bert said, "You did that very nicely. My, doesn't this hamberger
look good?" Carole's blue eyes, slightly glazed from the diddling
he continued to force on her tormented twat, didn't fail to notice
that he piled on all the onions he could.
  "Eat up, Carole. Although we've plenty of time, I would like to
get you home earlier than I promised your mother." It was only nine
o'clock.
  Carole could not finish her hamburger. The toe that cours- ed up
and down her slash tortured her to an unbelievable extent. She
experienced an orgasm and had to camouflage it as a coughing fit.
Bert looked on, a clinical observer studying a patient. His face
betrayed none of the gloating he felt. He, Bertram Ellis, had
broken through the iceberg's exterior!
  Without having to be told, he knew he could have anything he
wanted after they left the restaurant.
  "Excuse me, Bert. I..I..." she swallowed hard as he turn- ed his
foot sideways and plied all of his toes along her sex slit, "I
want...go...ttto tthe lladies room." She finished her statement in
a rush.
  Bert only shook his head in negation. He continued to eat his
hamburger, chewing carefully before swallowing.
  "Please!" she cried out. Carole was instantly aware of three
dozen pairs of eyes on her.
  "Better keep your voice down, Carole. People are staring at you."
  "You beast!" she sobbed, The itch in her genitals was un-
bearable. She had to have surcease. She had to get him to stop
playing with her using his foot.
  She wanted...wanted...his hard, throbbing cock in her!
  Carole felt the growing urgency in her cunt again as another
toe-triggered orgasm built up. She had totally ripped apart four
napkins and was bending the fork. Lances of agony/ectasy jolted
her. She wanted him to stop. She wanted him to continue.
  Carole van der Hoff wanted him!
  Suddenly, the teasing array of toes disappeared from her cunt.
She started to straighten her dress and decided against it. She
would have to lift her butt off the vinly and that might flash bare
shin. The girl had to be satisfied with pulling her dress down over
her legs without feeling the material trapped under her.
  "Let's go." Bert stood and walked to pay the check. In amazement,
she looked down and saw he had somehow managed to get his sock and
shoe back on without reaching under the table. Her lust numbed
brain couldn't figure out how the acrobatic feat had been
accomplished.
  All she really cared about was leaving. In a hurry. Without
talking to any of her friends. She had been stupid enough to choose
a short dress. Now she didn't near any tables, less the occupants
look up and see he pink lipped, golden furred nakedness underneath.
They would all smirk. They would all start whispering about her.
  Carole couldn't bear the thought.
  She rushed out, past table after table, her arms locked firmly at
her sides to prevent her dress from swaying.
  Bert casually walked out, bidding a couple of friends good night,
then sauntered after the girl.
  He caught a fragment of conversation from a table near the door.
"Did you see that, Al? Damned if Carole didn't rush out of here
looking like she'd just been fucked in public and Bert Ellis is as
cool as a cucumber!"
  Carole was already in the car, hands firmly gripping the hem of
her dress. As Bert go in, she said in a voice of cold rage, "I hate
you! I hate you, Bert Ellis, like I've never hated before! I could
kill you! OOOOHHHH!"
  Bert started the engine and didn't say a word until they were out
on the street. "What do you hate me for? No one knew what was
happening back there. Except you and me. And are you telling me you
didn't enjoy it? I think you'd be lying if you said you didn't get
off on the entire scene."
   Carole sat rigidly for a moment, doing some soul searching.
"Bert. Fuck me. I want you to stuff your cock up where you had your
toes."
  Bert did not immediately respond. He turned a sharp corner and
drove to a favorite lover's lane that overlooked the city. The
lights were spectacular but few ever saw them, except before or
after the reason they made the drive.
  "Bert," Carole asked, plaintively, "will you?"
  Bert turned off the ignition and lounged back in the seat. "Why
should I? You've never given me the time of day before. Why should
I do anything at all for you?  You would not even be here if it
were not for your mother."
  Carole's temper flared. "You make it sound like you'd be doing me
a big favor! Such gall!"
  The quiet words that answered unnerved her more than any- thing
else he had done to her all night long.
  "I would be doing you a favor."
  Long minutes of silence dragged between them, then Carole said,
"Bert, please. My...my crotch is burning. It feels like it's filled
with ants or something. Please!"
  "You're begging for my cock? Come, come, you can be more orginal
than that! Surely you have heard some good stories about why I
should fuck you.  Better yet, what are you willing to do for my
cock?"
  Carole's eyes glowed luminously with lust and hate in the dim
light. "What do you mean?"
  "I mean you've got to earn it. What'll you do to earn my cock?"
  Carole thought for a few seconds, her hands rubbing her crotch
through the thin fabric of her dress. "I'll pose for you for that
silly contest. How's that?"
  Bert shook his head. "No good. I've already got someone else
lined up," he lied. "Besides, it's my cock you want. You have to do
something for it."
  "Like what?" Her voice betrayed her soaring emotions.
  "Suck on it." His voice was absolutely level. He could have been
giving a weather report rather than ordering her to give him a blow
job. Yet they both realized this was exactly what he was doing.
Bert wasn't stating an alternative he was giving a command, and
order that Carole would eventually give in to.
  A timid little girl voice, so unlike her normally husky, sultry
tones came, "Okay."
  Bert unzipped his fly but didn't move from his seat. "Go on, Suck
for all you're worth. If you know how!" The final challenge he
hurled at Carole almost yanked the girl across the car.
  Her mouth encircled Bert's cock and licked and lapped with an
avidity that reflected just how hot she'd gotten back at the
restaurant. Carole paid no attention to the fact that her short
dress hiked up and displayed the rounded twin globes of her
buttocks. In the faint moonlight, they gleamed a pearlescent white.
Bert gazed at them wanting to reach out and take them into his
lusting grip. But he knew that, as much as he desired to take them
- and Carole - he couldn't.
  Net yet. But soon.
  Her naked ass did more to harden Bert's cock than the in- expert
cocksucking that Carole was giving out. Bert just relaxed as much
as he could and stared out across the city. Tiny jewels strewn from
the hand of a drunken giant. Beacons in the night guiding him on
his way to a sexual Nirvana. All that and more as Carole tongued
his now fully erect pole of manhood.
  Bert didn't touch her. He longed to caress her golden, shimmering
hair, to guide her motion up and down his shaft. The youth
refrained. He wanted nothing more than to reach around and stuff a
few fingers up her steaming twat. He didn't.
  He just let her continue her oral assualt on his organ.
  Carole couldn't understand Bert's passiveness. There was no way
she could even guess he was playing a bigger game than just one
fucking. That he was going for broke. Either he hooked her into a
long string of lovemaking or he lost everything. Starting with
nothing, he had everything to gain and nothing to lose.
  The blonde continued pulling at his prong, licking it with her
tongue and rubbing the blood-engorged head against the roof of her
mouth. Carole was at a loss to understand why Bert didn't ejaculate
instantly. Every other guy she'd sucked off had shot his load in a
few brief seconds. She disliked stuffing a prick into her mouth. It
was distasteful to the girl but sometimes it was the only way to
cool a date off and prevent outright rape.
  She was an expert at dragging a guy along, then dumping him hard
and leave him lusting after her body.
  Now that she had found someone impervious to her charms, she
didn't know how to handle it. Carole had decided that sucking Bert
off as quickly as possible would take care of him. That would force
him to betray his lust for her, and she could regain a semblance of
the dignity she had lost earlier in the evening.
  Even that escape value for her pride seemed to be denied her. She
sucked, she tongued, she gently gnawed on his resilient rod and
only managed to get a slight movement of his hips and a tiny moan
from his lips. She knew he wasn't a corpse, not with that warm,
throbbing, living tool that she lovingly held in her mouth.
  The only explanation was that she wasn't as good as others he'd
gone with. The thought chilled Carole. Then a grim resolution
filled her. She'd bring him off in such a big way, he'd never
forget it.
  Carole began to suck in earnest now. Her cheeks went concave
under the force, and the girl became sligthly dizzy from her
restricted breathing patterns. The fluffy forest of his pubic hair
assailed her nose, made her want to laugh and sneeze at the same
time. Her wet lips glided up and down the rigid, pulsating shaft.
The big blue vein throbbed on top of his penis and Carole kissed
it.
  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. Again
Bert asked if she was ready for him to come but this time added
that he was getting bored. Ego totally shattered, Carole shook her
head affirmative while sucking on his cock. 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 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 how turned on he was and how close to coming he was
before he had asked her if she wanted him to come.
  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 cockteaser, 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,
strenghtened 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
all 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...?" 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, "maybe some
other time."
  Carole was struck speechless.