Although the door had closed between us, I felt like a whole new world of possibilities had been opened up.

I spent a restless night in bed, waking up multiple times from sexy dreams with my cock straining in its cage.  Every dream was about a faceless black man who was using me six ways to Sunday.  It was one of those dreams where I just knew it was Terry, even though I never saw his face.  Each time I calmed down and drifted back off to sleep, he came right back into my subconscious, using me in some way different than the last time.

I took a cool shower and got ready for another day, using just my smaller dildos on my needy sissy pussy.  I wondered just how I was going to organize getting Terry back over here.  I wanted my hole to be ready but also tight for him.  I thrilled at the sight of tan lines when I saw myself in the mirror.  A few more sessions today would be just what the sissy ordered!  I slipped into my freshly laundered bikini and had a few hours tanning before work and lunch.

The whole time I was tanning my mind kept wandering back to my encounter with Terry and how quickly I assumed the submissive role — opening my robe when he asked to see my bikini, not resisting at all when he pulled off my robe, and how the slightest pressure of his hands on my shoulders put me on my knees, sucking his cock.

I thought about what lingerie I had brought with me, and what I wanted to be wearing when I allowed Terry to be the first man to fuck my ass.  The more I thought about it, the more naughty the ideas in my head became.  I decided I needed to do some shopping!

I did a little research on my phone and ventured out between tanning sessions.  I wore my bikini under my mundane clothes, opting for a sweatshirt to help hide the lines of the bikini top.  Three stores later, I felt I had assembled everything I needed to make my next rendezvous with Terry memorable for both of us.

I made it back just in time for another business call, while still wearing my bikini.   While on the call. I looked over the list my daughter had left.  There, at the bottom where her hotel contact information was, I found cell numbers for both Terry and his wife, Mandy.  She had left them in case the dogs got out.

As soon as I finished my business call, I texted the number for Terry:

Going out for my afternoon tanning session bikini emoji

The immediate thought bubble with ellipsis dots was both encouraging and stressful.  How would he react to my text?  Surely he would know it was me, right? He replied:

No overhead activity today helicopter emoji

So business-like.  I wondered if he was in a playful mood. I sent back:

Any chance of any other head activity today eggplant emoji

His response was swift: tongue emoji — raindrops emoji — eggplant emoji

Oh my!  Playful indeed! I replied:

Can you handle a little NSFW fun?

His response was encouraging:

Bring it

I took a selfie of my pink bikini bottoms, making sure to pull them up snugly so that my chastity bulge was very visible.  His response was a picture of his crotch, the bulge of his cock in his pants easily evident.

He followed up the picture with an abrupt “TTYL.”  I shrugged and went outside for another few more hours of tanning.  I came inside around 4:30 and was just about to take a shower when my phone alerted me to a text.

It was Terry: CU @ 6?

My heart leapt into my throat, and my clitty twitched in my cage.  I wondered how much time that might afford us.

I sent him another selfie of my crotch, this time close enough to see the pre-cum that was oozing from the tip of my cage.

I responded: You bring the beer, I’ll take care of the entertainment

He sent back a thumbs-up emoji.

I showered in record time and raced to my room to get ready for what I hoped would be a nice session with Terry.

My foundation garments were simple black.  The bra — one of my favorites — was a padded lace push-up bra that I knew looked amazing under any top.  Scalloped lace ran under the band all the way around, and a small bow, accented with a strip of three clear crystals, was nestled between the underwire cups.

The panties were just the thing for what I had planned — a strappy satin tanga panty with a completely open rear.  The front had a diamond of satin fabric centered on the waistband that went most of the way through the crotch, providing just the right coverage for my locked clitty.  The side panels were sheer all the way around to the back.  The straps were attached above the waistband in the front and went over the hips to attach just before the rear opening.  My ass would be completely available, and the rest of me would be hidden if that’s how Terry preferred it.

I slipped my breast forms into the bra cups, completing my shape.  I went to the bathroom and spent some time doing my makeup.  I had shaved in the shower and went straight into my practiced routine.  Foundation, concealer, and blush first, followed by doing my eyes.  I opted for a neutral color palette based on what I would be wearing.  I went a little darker with the lips, however, opting for a long-lasting liquid from Velvet Glam called Runway Queen, a rich ruby-wine color that was nearly a matte finish, but a bit more luscious.

If this lipstick didn’t get his dick between my lips in the first five minutes, I thought, I’ll hang up my garter belt for good!

I slipped into the new blouse I had just purchased.  It was a crisp white button-front blouse with a Peter Pan collar.  The short bubble sleeves had a thin cuff and a ruffle at the shoulder seam.  The polyester fabric, while not sheer, did very little to hide my black bra underneath it.  I always liked how slutty that looked!

Next, I slipped on the piece that I hoped would drive Terry out of his mind — a box pleat plaid jumper.  It was a mixture of burgundy, gray, and white, and I had shopped it in the Junior’s Plus section of a local department store that sold actual school uniforms.  There was a local private school nearby whose girls wore these exact uniforms, and I hoped Terry — like so many men — had a thing for slutty schoolgirls!  I deftly reached over my shoulders to zip it up in the back.

I had settled on a size nineteen, which I knew would fit my torso.  I wanted a “juniors” jumper because with a total length of thirty-six inches, that left barely six inches of hem below my crotch.  Terry shouldn’t be able to miss my apple-bottom peeking from underneath, and I hoped the open rear panties would give him enough of a glimpse that it left him wanting to see the rest!

Instead of traditional knee socks, I opted for white thigh-high socks — nylons that were a heavier denier but went just a few inches above the knee.  This particular brand also had bands of grippy silicone to keep them in place, like stay-up stockings.

I knelt and mouthed one of my dildos, trying to remember just how tall Terry was.  When I thought I had it about right, I bent over in front of it to gauge just how tall a heel to wear.  I wanted everything to be just perfect, so if Terry decided to bend me over at the waist, I would be at the perfect height for penetration.  I settled on a pair of black patent Mary Janes with a three-inch block heel.

I looked at the clock.  It was 5:20 and I had forty minutes to kill.  I took more than a few of those deciding on the perfect butt plug.  I wanted to be tight for Terry, but not so tight that it slowed down his initial penetration.  I finally settled on my flesh-colored “small” cock-shaped plug.  It was just under four inches of insertable length and no wider than one and a half inches at the widest point.  A handy t-shaped handle made it comfortable for long-term wear.

Finally, I had to pick the right wig.  I pulled my wig cap on first and then tried a few different looks.  I decided that with the burgundy and gray of the jumper, a blonde wig would be the icing on the cake.  It was a wavy style in shoulder-length and was easy to keep in place with a thin fabric-covered headband with a white satin bow.  I appraised my reflection in the mirror.

If this didn’t scream schoolgirl with a very slutty edge, I didn’t know what would.  I paced for a few minutes, watching the clock.  My heels clicked on the hallway tile, each click seeming to measure another second.  It was nearly 6:00 and I willed the clock to go faster.  What happened to being ten minutes early, I thought, fuming silently while I paced.

Six o’clock came and went, and the doorbell didn’t ring.  I checked my phone.  No missed messages.  Was he delayed?  Had he changed his mind?  As the minutes ticked by, I grew restless.  I had to resist the urge to text him.  As much as I wanted Terry tonight, I didn’t want him to know how needy I was, right?  I drove myself half-crazy for nearly ten minutes when the doorbell rang.

With the chime, my heart leaped into my throat.  I was about to open the door to a man I had invited over to fuck me six ways to Sunday.  I set a disapproving look on my face, wanting him to know how irritated I was that he was tardy.

He rushed through the door, holding a six-pack of beer.  He was wearing an outfit almost identical to the one he had worn yesterday— another sleeveless tank and a similar pair of baggy athletic shorts.

“I am so sorry, Stacey,” he said, rushing to get his words out before I could say anything.  “I just needed to...”  His words trailed off as he took in my figure.  I closed the door behind him.  “Oh my God, you look amazing!”

“You think a simple compliment will get you off the hook?  You’re late!”

“But I mean it,” he said with just a hint of pleading in his voice.  “You look so incredibly sexy!”

“Then you are forgiven,” I said, smiling broadly.  I led the way into the living room, swinging my hips to entice him just a little more.  His excuses continued as we walked.

“Mandy’s going out for a girls’ night with her friends, and the kids are both at sleepovers.  She took her damn time getting ready, so I couldn’t slip out before now,” he said.  “But the good news is we have at least five hours to explore whatever this is.”

He set the beer on the dinette table as we passed by.  When we reached the living room, I stopped beside the couch.

“This,” I said, emphasizing his word as I bent over the arm of the couch and glanced back over my shoulder, “is a sissy schoolgirl who needs a good hard fucking.”  I tossed my hair back as I glanced at him.  I leaned onto my arms and arched my back.  “I was hoping you might help me with that.”  I knew at this angle, there was no way he didn’t get a good glance of my bare ass.

He stepped up behind me and pressed against me.  I could feel a growing bulge in his shorts.  His hands — large and warm — were on my hips and rubbed down my legs and back again.  I ground back against him and moaned.

“Am I going to have to taste your wife’s pussy on your cock today, Terry, or have you saved everything for me?”

“I’ve been rubbing my crotch all day thinking about you sunbathing in that sexy bikini.  My drawers were soaked with pre-cum when I got home, but Mandy was all about her night out with the girls.  You get everything today, baby.”

“Am I in trouble, headmaster?” I said, shifting into my role as slutty schoolgirl.  “Did one of the teachers report me for my skirt being too short?”  I wiggled my hips and felt his hands move from rubbing my upper thighs to gripping my hips.  I felt his hard cock pressing between my ass cheeks.

“Yes, Stacey,” he said,  playing along. “Several of the teachers brought your skirt length to my attention.  They want to see you punished.”

“What will you do, sir?  Do you have to tell my parents?  Are you going to paddle me?”

“I don’t have a choice,” he said, continuing the role play.  “I have to tell your parents.  School policy is to paddle you, but since I don’t have my paddle, I will have to spank you instead.”  He walked around the couch, tugging on my left arm.  I stood up and followed him.  He sat down, and his erection was tenting out his shorts.

“Over my lap, Stacey,” he ordered.

“Yes, sir,” I said meekly.  I felt his cock pressing against my side as I positioned myself over his lap.

“Lift your skirt, Stacey.”  I complied, revealing the extent of just how bare the open-ass panties left my nether region.

“Please, sir,” I begged, “don’t spank me too hard!”

“Just look at those panties you’re wearing!  You look like such a cheap slut.  You deserve to be spanked for wearing those to school.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Count them out, Stacey.”  His first blow was a little tentative.

“One,” I said in a monotone, “this is boring” tone of voice.  I wriggled on his lap, making sure my elbow rubbed against his straining prick.  He immediately got the message.  His next swat landed with force.

“Two!” I squealed.  The swats kept coming, and I kept counting; he kept up the force of the blows as they fell.  By the time I got to fifteen, my cheeks were burning.  Each time he spanked me, I made sure to rub against his cock.

“Twenty,” I said.  He decided I had had enough.  I rolled off his lap and onto my knees.  He spread his legs and I crawled between them.  My hand snaked its way up the leg of his shorts.  He groaned.

“Isn’t there anything I can do to keep you from calling my parents?” I asked.  He wasn’t wearing any underwear.  “Anything?”  I emphasized that word by grasping his hard cock and stroking the shaft.  He groaned louder.

“Ohhh, Stacey,” he said.

“Can I suck your cock, sir?”  I said in a pleading tone.  “If I suck your cock will you promise not to call my parents?”

“We’ll have to see,” he said, continuing to play his part.  “Maybe if you do a good job.”

I used my left hand to tug on the waistband of his shorts as I pulled my right hand out of the leg hole.  He raised his hips and allowed me to pull his shorts down below his knees.  A giant dollop of pre-cum oozed from the tip, and I leaned forward, catching it with my tongue before it could run down his shaft.

“Put your mouth on it,” he said, his hands guiding my head.  I sucked on the top four or five inches of his cock.  I licked up and down the shaft.  I licked his balls while I stroked his shaft.

He pulled my mouth back onto his cock, and I shoved the entire length down my throat.  His balls were mashed against my chin, and I coughed wetly, moving to draw a lungful of air before going back down on him.

“Shit, Stacey,” he said, “You sure know how to suck some black dick.  Mmmm.  Yeah.”  I pulled off his cock and resumed the charade.

“Does that mean you won’t call my parents?”

“I don’t know, Stacey,” he said, dropping back into his role.  “While I was spanking you, I thought I saw a butt plug.  Am I right?  Are you wearing a butt plug with those slutty panties?”

“Ummm, yes, sir,” I said meekly.

“Turn around and show me,” he said.  “Spread your ass and let me see.”  I leaned over the low ottoman and pulled my butt cheeks apart.  I knew the flesh-colored t-base was clearly visible.

“Pull out the plug and show me how big it is.”  I pulled at the base, and the four-inch penis-shaped plug came out.  He took the plug from me and slipped it back inside my hole.  Then he swatted my ass hard — harder than any of his hits when he spanked me.

“Ouch!” I yelped.  “I’m sorry, sir!”  My ass was stinging.  “What did I do, sir?”

“You’re just a slutty little whore, aren’t you?  You walk around my school with a little white dick shoved up your ass?”

“Yes, sir,” I said.  He swatted me again.

“Are you just a prick tease?” he asked me.  “Do you just tease the boys and then give them nothing?”  He didn’t wait for a response.  He swatted me two more times, once on each cheek.  He grabbed my ass, squeezing my aching mounds hard as he opened me wide.  I moaned at the pain/pleasure that generated.

“You know what I think you need?  I think you need a real man’s cock — a big black cock — not some little boy-cock.”

“Yes, sir.  Please, sir.”  He yanked the plug from my ass and lined the head of his cock up against my hungry hole.  I expected him to ram his cock home.

Instead, he paused with just the tip of his bulbous head resting against my outer ring.  I moaned at the warm feeling of flesh-on-flesh.  I pushed back, trying to impale myself.  He pulled away.