Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 "Misbehaving: Day One" by Eagle1 (M/F, M/F)
My morning wood slid unconsciously between her thighs and near the
confines of her moist pussy.  It was a pleasurable sensation that brought

me out of my half sleep and into full awakening.

   "That's nice," murmured a gentle voice from the female figure lying
beside me.

   Her naked body had curled up against mine at some point during the
night, spooning me, and my arm was now placed protectively over her.  The
hand of that arm reached down to gently stroke the soft flesh of one of her
breasts, fingers pleasantly surprised to find an ample amount to caress. 
My middle finger circled around the hardening flesh of her nipple.  The
work on this sensitive area provoked several long throaty moans.

   Meanwhile my dick was by now firmly wedged in the crack of her cunt and
her warmth was radiating pleasantly around me.  The stale smell of our sex
from the night before was heightened as her juices began to flow again in
anticipation of my cock filling her.  Her musty scent coupled with the
crusty remains of last night's efforts brought me to a higher level of
excitement and my dick went from being merely hard to rigid steel.  As it
grew to its full length, engorged, it stood straight up and out from my
body running parallel to the damp lips of her twat, but the tip of my
johnson lost the entrance to her hole in the process.

   I pulled back my hand, which had thus far been feeling her up, and
gently lifted her thigh, exposing her treasure to me explicitly.  Soon she
was lifting her leg on her own and I was able to reach down and feed the
first few inches of my cock inside her hole.

   "Ummm," she purred next to me, "It feels so big and thick."

   My hand traveled up her side and slipped under her arm.  I squeezed and
rubbed her tits, and moans escaped her mouth as I played them like an
instrument.

   "Oh," she cooed, "That feels great."

   She was velvety smooth and I was so worked up I just started pumping
into her like a madman.  Soon she had both hands on the headboard,
steadying herself, her legs opened for me, and I was fucking her like
crazy.

   "Oh, yeah," she cried, "Oh, yeah...that's it...fuck me...fuck me!"

   I kept on ramming her, and she spooned next to me, her tits hanging down
in front of her jiggling.

   "Jesus you are so big," she continued, "Jesus fucking Christ."

   I could feel the insides of her cunt tighten, and then a rush of wetness
overcame my cock.

   "Oh, shit," she cried, "I'm cumming...oh...yes...oh...yes...that's
it...that's it!"

   That was enough for me.  I shot my wad into her pussy as I continued to
thrust.  She inclined her head back and I leaned forward, kissing her
slowly, sucking her tongue into my mouth.  We lay on the bed quietly for a
few moments, enjoying each other's company.  I cradled her small body in my
strong arms.

   I was on leave that weekend and it had been a while since I'd been with
a woman.  Or, judging from what might have happened the night before, since
I remembered having been with a woman.  Bits and pieces of last evening's
drunken revelry came floating back to me as I lay there and I was still
feeling randy as all get out from several weeks of not having had any tail.
My dick kept responding to this girl, and to my delight, she took it in her
hand, and gave me a few gentle strokes.  In fact I had never fully
softened. She proceeded to pull away from my embrace and moved down to the
end of the bed so that she could suck my pride and joy into her mouth.

   From my vantage point I could feel the wetness of her mouth on my jock
and I could see her head bobbing up and down over my shaft.  Her warm mouth
encased me, taking me in long deep strokes, sucking strongly.  She started
running her tongue up and down the shaft, stopping to suck my balls into
her mouth.  My cock was getting very hard in a hurry, swelling up to its
full size, as she worked.  She looked up at me for a second and I closed my
eyes.  Then she went back to work, reaching her hand down and fingering her
cunt.  Opening my eyes, I could see her hand rub her pussy through her
legs, and then she started moaning.  As she increased the pace on my cock,
she increased the movement on her clit with her hand.  She stuck two
fingers up her cunt, while grabbing hold of my meat and pumping me with her
hand and occasionally sucking me with her mouth.  A loud moan escaped her,
and she suddenly stopped and looked back at me.

   The girl was very aggressive, and she knew what she wanted.  She moved
forward to straddle me, positioning my mast underneath her so that she
could sink down on my dick.  She was so wet that I could hear a sloshing
sound when she impaled herself.  Then she was fucking me in no time, up and
down she went, her moans started again and so did her pace.

   She was a fine bitch and she was doing all the work, so I just laid back
and enjoyed the feeling of her hot cunt smothering me.  She leaned forward
and those gorgeous tits looked so good I had to reach up and pull on her
long dark nipples.  Her tits floated in my face and I licked the end of her
tits lightly at first and then started sucking them harder, alternating
breasts.  By this time, one of my hands was steadying her waist, and I was
thrusting up her cunt at a frantic speed.  I could feel the cum building up
in my balls at the same time.  I reached behind her with my other hand to
spread her ass cheeks wide open and finger her asshole.

   "Oh, yes...oh, yes," she cried, in respect of the mounds of flesh
pressed into my face, "That's it...suck my tits...suck harder."

   I could feel another rush of wetness spilling down my balls a second
later like warm milk.  She was like a fountain this one.

   "Jesus!" she panted, "I'm cumming!  Oh, God...that's it....  Oh, God! 
Oh, God!"

   Her whole body tensed up and she sat straight up grinding her cunt
against the base of my cock and triggering my own eruption.

   I shot my load furiously up her cunt all the while she was grinding out
the last of her orgasm against me.

   She collapsed into my arms as we finished and I glanced out the window
to see the pale early morning sun rise further in the pink and orange sky.
My cock was still buried inside her and I wasn't even going soft, so I
began to massage around her waist, trying to encourage her to start moving
up and down on me again.  Unfortunately the sudden, insistent ringing of my
cell phone interrupted our increasing passion.

   Being a newly commissioned Second Lieutenant in the Marines did not make
answering my phone an option.

   "Hello?" I said gruffly into the phone, "Mom?" I responded, hearing her
voice on the other end.

   I sat bolt upright.

   "Hey...it's early...what's going on?" I asked.

   The girl, who I was still inside of, disentangled herself from me at the
mention of my mother and got up to go to the bathroom.  I followed her
naked body with my eyes, regretting this lost opportunity as she walked
into the other room.  Meanwhile, I listened to my mother as she explained
to me what I was going to do, how I was going to do it and when.

   It was made clear that I didn't have a choice in the matter.

   "Okay, bye," I said, hanging up when she was finished.

   The girl came back in, grabbed a sheet off the bed and wrapped it around
herself in a sudden fit of modestly, leaving me exposed.

   "Sorry for the interruption," I said, lying naked and by now at half
mast.

   I realized for the first time that I had no clue where I was or who I
was with.

   "Ummm," I said, looking around me, "I don't mean to be rude, but I'm
gonna need to take off soon."

   She looked a little crestfallen.

   "I thought you had leave for the whole weekend?" she asked, pouting.

   "I do, but I have an emergency," I said, "Though I do have a little time
before I need to get back to base."

   "Good," she said, "Let's not waste it."

   As she climbed back into bed next to me, I figured I should probably
wait until I was ready to leave before I asked this girl for her
number...and her name.

   * * *

   Later that same day...

   My mother could always be counted on to think of everything and I had a
car waiting for me at noon to take me from the base to the plane that would
carry me to my duty assignment for the next couple days.  I was to serve as
an escort for the daughter of one of my mother's oldest and closest friends
for her debut at the annual cotillion.

   Being born and raised a Southern man myself, I had a wholesome
acceptance, or at least understanding, of the very traditional rituals
surrounding a debutant.  Ancient in origin and imported to the United
States during colonial times, the cotillion is still the customary way in
the South and in many other parts to present well to do young women to
society.  The Yankees among you can laugh if you want, but my mother had
her own cotillion in New Orleans in the sixties and every other female
member of my mother's family had been similarly introduced to society.

   Even so, it still kept me wondering why, on the occasion of one of these
peculiar little rituals, I now found myself standing on the front porch of
one Mr.  Gregory Campbell and his wife, Mrs.  Gregory Campbell (née
Christina Blair).  I don't know what she and my mother had shared in the
perfumed and often mystifying cloisters of upper crust New Orleans to make
them so close, but they were very close indeed.  In fact they were such
good friends that my mother had been the maid of honor at her wedding many
long years ago.  She'd married Gregory Campbell who was born and bred of
only the finest Southern stock and they had raised four children: three
daughters and one son.

   Despite this closeness between our two families, I hadn't seen any of
the Campbells since I was thirteen, in other words about nine years ago.  I
recalled one time they had descended upon our house like a plague of
locusts devouring everything that stood in their way.  The oldest girl,
Elizabeth, had been fifteen at the time.  She might have been the most
beautiful girl I'd every seen, but she didn't have any time for those of
use she viewed as mere children.  The second oldest was a girl called
Melanie, and she was a year younger than me.  As I recall, she was as pure
as the driven snow.  It had been no use getting into any trouble with her.
The other two were twins: Jeremy and Jenna, having been nine years old at
the time, and little more than pests underfoot.

   Considering all that, I was especially surprised when my mother called
me up to tell me that I was to be one of the escorts for young Jenna, who
was now having her eighteenth birthday.  A little old for a cotillion, I
figured.  But as I was going, a fully commissioned officer, I guess it
wouldn't be too weird.  You see, a debutant is often escorted to a
cotillion by two men, one a civilian and the other a cadet at one of the
various military academies.  Thus an escort is expected to present a color
guard for the girl, be in proper form the entire evening, polite, observe
the rules of etiquette at all times and dance on command.  How my mother
had managed to get me leave for this assignment was something I'd never
know.  This wasn't exactly something I considered a great use of my time,
plus I'd never hear the end of it from the other guys in my unit.

   I was the only man of my generation in my family carrying on a long and
distinguished association with the armed forces.  Apparently Jenna Campbell
had asked for me specifically.  I imagined she either didn't know or was
too shy to seek out a cadet her own age from one of the various military
schools who might have been a more suitable companion.  With Mr. 
Campbell's well-placed defense contracts and connections with some very
powerful people in Washington, DC, including one or two members of the
Senate Armed Forces Committee, I found I had my leave approved.  I may be
many things, but in my short time in the service I'd learned to appreciate
leave for what it was.

   So I kept my mouth shut and got my ass on the next available transport.

   After my flight and cab ride, there I was standing on the Campbells'
porch, having changed with permission out of my usual uniform and into more
comfortable civilian clothes.  My duffle was at my feet and a hanging bag
carrying my Dress Blues was slung over my left shoulder.  I took a deep
breath, rang the doorbell of this ornate Southern mansion and stood back,
almost at attention, waiting for something to happen.

   I was not required to wait long.

   The door opened slowly and a tall (which is to say he and I could look
one another in the eye) middle-aged man looked back at me.  He had the look
of a man who had once been a lion, but was now starting to show his age, if
not still fit enough to have more than a hint of the old firmness he had
had in his youth.

   "You must be Marc," he said smiling, extending a hand for me to shake,
"It's been a long time."

   "Yes, sir, Mr.  Campbell, almost ten years," I said grinning, "I suppose
the haircut gives me away?"

   "Standard issue?" he asked, still shaking my hand, as I nodded yes.

   Finally he let go of it, and held open the door for me to enter, "Please
come in, can I help with your bags?"

   "No, sir, thanks, I'm fine," I grabbed my duffel and entered into what
could only be described as the foyer of the house.

   This room led into a large receiving room with a massive staircase
curving up the middle going to the second floor.  One side seemed to lead
into a parlor and the other into a dining room.

   This place was huge.

   "Marc, you know my wife Chrissy of course," he said, referring to the
woman who was coming into the hall through a side door to meet us.

   Ain't it funny how the mind plays tricks on us?  I remembered this woman
from her last trip to visit us and of course from pictures, but those
didn't do her justice.  And for a minute I really envied Mr.  Campbell. 
Chrissy...Mrs.  Campbell, I corrected myself...was a stunning woman for her
age.  By which I mean a woman in her mid to late forties.  She was tall,
though not as tall as her husband or me, and she had what appeared to be a
gorgeous head of honey brown hair, twisted up on her head just the way I
liked it.  But what really got me going was her figure.  Her body had
filled out from the more willowy, as I remembered it, into a more
voluptuous frame.  Motherhood had been kind to her, giving her ample and
generous curves.  Yet she remained sleek, firm and tight enough to give a
woman half her age a run for the money.

   "Marc," she said, in a throaty deep voice, smiling.

   Her body wasn't the only thing that had improved with age.  She was
originally from New Orleans, but her accent had changed over time in her
new surrounding and had become softer and richer as it took on more of a
drawl.  My name came out sounding like "Maaaahk."

   "It was so good of you to come all the way down here, for our lil' old
ball," she continued, giving me a hug, "How's your father?  And Peter?" she
continued, asking about my father and brother.

   I barely had time to set down my stuff before she swept me up in her
arms.  Not for the second time having to remember that she was a married
woman twice my age, and my mother's closest and best friend.  I got a whiff
of her perfume, and I thought I might get hard if she didn't let me go.

   Thankfully she did.

   "They're both fine, ma'am," I said, a little embarrassed by how I was
getting turned on by her, "They send their regards of course."

   "Oh, how sweet," she said, now putting her hand behind my back and
ushering me forward, "Listen Marc, now that you're a man, you're really
going to have to call me Chris.  Have you eaten, yet?"

   "Yes, ma'am," I said, not quite able to call this woman by her Christian
name yet, "I had some food on the plane."

   "Well if you want me to fix you something you just let me know.  We'll
be having dinner at seven o'clock."

   Suddenly Mr.  Campbell interrupted, "Goodness, Chrissy, give the boy
some breathing room, we've got him for three whole days, let him rest for a
minute."

   "Marc," he said, turning his attention on me, "Why don't I show you your
room?"

   Mrs.  Campbell called to me behind us as I took my things and followed
her husband up the stairs, "Marc, did you bring a swimsuit?  Lizzy and Mel
are swimming in the back, you might like to join them and relax this
afternoon before dinner.  Of course Jeremy is working and Jenna is in town
getting her dress fitted, but I'm sure the girls would like to see you."

   "No, ma'am," I stopped looking back at her over the banister, "I didn't
think I'd be near a pool."

   "No problem, dahlin," she said indulgently, then a little more sharply
to her husband, "Greg, why don't you let Marc use one of yours?"

   "Sure, honey," he said waving her away.

   As soon as we were upstairs he turned to me and said, "I have too many
damned women in this house boy, if you know what I mean.  Never give a man
any peace and quite."

   I grinned back at him to indicate that I was a man of the world and knew
full well what he was talking about.

   "Well here's your room," he said indicating one of the first rooms off
the hall, a very large room with a four-poster bed.  It was obviously a
guest room with all the frilly accompaniments that sort of thing usually
entails.

   "Hope it's all right," he said.

   "Much better than I'm used to," I replied.

   "Chrissy and I are over there," he informed me, in his cursory fashion,
and pointed out the others as well, "That's Jeremy's room.  Lizzy there. 
Jenna there.  And Mel at the end."

   "Okay, then," he continued going into his own room, after a second he
came out with a pair of bathing trunks, which he tossed to me, "There you
go.  The girls will be by the pool.  C'mon down once you've settled
yourself in.  Then after dinner you and I can have some time to talk
mano-a-mano."

   "Yes, sir," I said and went in shutting the door as Mr.  Campbell turned
to go downstairs.

   Once I was out of sight, I sat on the bed and let out a sigh.  Jesus, I
thought, what the fuck had I gotten myself in for?  I'd already encountered
a mother I'd like to fuck, what the hell else was waiting for me? 
Fortunately I didn't have a lot to unpack, but I put my clothes in the
wardrobe and put on Mr.  Campbell's swim trunks.  I was momentarily a
little chilled sitting around in nothing but the trunks in the cool
air-conditioning, but I knew it would feel good once I got out into the
afternoon air by the pool.

   I found my way down to pool fairly easily, making my way through the
dining room and kitchen.  In the kitchen I passed the Campbell's cook, who
happened to be black.  She reminded me a little of Esther Rolle and she
gave me a very disapproving frown as I tried to introduce myself and
gestured to the French doors to indicate my way to the pool.  I don't think
she liked having me walk through her kitchen with nothing on but a pair of
swim trunks, especially considering the bulge my junk made in the front.

   And I also got the feeling this woman could see right through me.

   The air outside was hot even for the late afternoon and sticky with
humidity, but being bare-chested provided a measure of relief.  I already
felt drops of sweat forming on my back and forehead.

   I rounded the side of the house on the patio and came upon a large
Olympic size swimming pool.  A bikini clad girl lounged in a cabana chair
next to the pool, apparently relaxing in the sun, and another was making
laps.  Both were sticky fingers good looking and I took a deep breath
before I walked up to them.

   "Hey," I said.

   The girl doing laps caught sight of me and a look of pure pleasure
beamed across her face.

   "Marc!" she hollered.

   This was Melanie of course.  I remembered her.

   "Damn, girl," I said, as she flounced out of the pool to give me a big
wet hug, "You've really grown up since I saw you last."

   I was referring to the fact that this girl was all tits and ass,
scantily covered in a bikini top and bottom.  She had a phenomenal body. 
Her tits bounced and shook back and forth as she ran up to me.  And they
were soft, plush and squeezed between us.

   "Isn't it great to see Marc again, Lizzy?" Mel asked her bored looking
sister as she pulled away from me.

   Elizabeth looked at me from behind the black lenses of her designer
shades.  She lazily lifted her glasses up to give me a closer inspection.

   She said, "Hey, there."

   Despite the apparent indifference of her welcome, I noticed she took a
second to give me a once over before putting her shades back into place.

   "Do you want to swim?" Mel asked me excitedly.

   She didn't give me a chance to reply, but dove headfirst into the water.
I dove into the pool after her.  The water was cool enough that my nuts
shrank up into my sac, but the cool wetness felt good.  We both surfaced
around the same time, splashing up out of the water.  Melanie was playful
and her tits had a tendency to bob up and down in the water.  A fact which
I did not fail to notice and which, I think, Melanie did not fail to notice
me noticing.

   I floated over to the edge of the pool close to Elizabeth and put my
arms over the edge to rest.  Melanie came near me, dangerously close, and I
could see Elizabeth give her a quick discerning look.  We all made small
talk for a while.  Mostly it was Melanie gushing with questions that I
struggled to keep up with answers for.  She was audibly blonde and her lips
moved at a mind boggling pace.  I found myself only answering some of her
questions, and nodding for the rest of the time when it seemed appropriate,
managing to feign interest.  Considering the various directions in which
she took the conversation, I assumed she was more interested in hearing
herself talk than in hearing what I had to say anyway.  And I was more
interested in looking at her than I was in responding, so it seemed a fair
trade.  We managed to cover everything from my military training to the
trials and tribulations of our families over the passing years.  There were
plenty of opportunities to reminisce and plenty of memories to laugh over.

   Melanie had a fun spunkiness that went well with her personality, and
her amply built body.  Big pouty lips and tits that just kept on going. 
Over on the chair, her sister Elizabeth occasionally chimed into the
conversation, but generally gave off an aura of indifference to our
presence.  For all that it wasn't much different from the way she'd treated
us as kids.  Elizabeth looked good though.  She'd been a bit of a teenage
crush for me.  She'd been more inclined to hang out with my older brother
Peter while they ignored the rest of us.  She lay back against the chair to
take advantage of the warm solar rays.  They beat against her chest and
smooth stomach.  Her breasts, while not as large as her younger sister's,
were beautifully proportioned and rose up high and proud.  Her nipples were
hard and pointed through the fabric.  From time to time she would cross or
uncross her legs and I'd be able to catch a glimpse of the way her pussy
lips pressed against the fabric of her suit.

   I had to be careful not to forget myself lest I found myself, between
the two of these beautiful creatures, springing wood right there in the
pool.

   We did a few more laps, splashing each other and enjoying the water. 
But finally I could sense that it was getting about that time and I wanted
the chance for a shower before dinner.  I got out of the pool, feeling the
fabric of my suit sticking to my body.  No doubt my package was plainly
visible to all those who wanted to see.

   "Well, Marc," said Melanie joining me on the land, "It's great that you
could make it.  We're really gonna have some fun over the next couple
days."

   Before I knew what she was doing, she had given me a big hug and planted
a big kiss right on my lips, rather a little longer than was necessary too
I might add.  She pulled away with a giggle and dashed into the house.

   Elizabeth got up and took off her shades.  As she walked by me to go
into the house, she paused, looked straight at my cock, and said, "Very
nice, Marc".  I looked down and realized that, despite my best efforts, I
had a hammer going in my trunks that could have driven nails into concrete.

   She walked away leaving me momentarily embarrassed and looking for a
towel.

   * * *

   I'd made it to the shower without further incident, well wrapped in my
towel.  I attributed my lapse in control earlier at the pool to an
unavoidable absence from women due to my recent officer's training course.
Whatever the case a shower was required and the warm, soapy water felt good
running along my aching muscles.  I let the chlorine of the pool wash down
the drain as I relaxed from the stress and strain of the day and my recent
travel.  I was still wet and damp when I turned off the shower and stepped
out onto the bath mat to reach for a towel.

   Just then the bathroom door opened.  Oops, guess I forgot to lock it.

   A young man walked in; who I assumed was Jeremy, remembering the scrawny
little kid I'd last seen so long ago.  From the looks of things, he had not
been expecting to find a bare ass naked man in the bathroom.

   It was obviously an awkward situation.

   "Uh," he said, momentarily stunned, "Sorry for barging in, I was looking
for some deodorant."

   Despite everything, and his best efforts to look me in the eye, I caught
him checking out my exposed package at least three times.  What a little
faggot!  I was very used to taking showers with a bunch of naked Marines by
this point, so I didn't pay any mind to the state of my undress.  In fact,
I was somewhat enjoying his discomfort and, rather than wrapping the towel
around my waist, I gave him my hand instead, leaving the towel hanging in
the other one.

   "Hi," I said, "I'm Marc."

   There was a pregnant pause while he shook my hand.

   "And you are?" I asked him when I realized he was just going to stand
there stupidly.

   "Um...Jeremy...sorry."

   "It's been a long time," I said.

   "Definitely," he replied nodding.

   By now he'd managed at least to raise his gaze further up the rest of my
muscled body, all the while attempting to stay trained on my eyes.  I
started to dry myself, allowing the towel to partially hide my dignity,
waiting for him to make a move instead.

   "Right," he said stupidly, after another second, "Let me just get out of
your way."

   "No rush," I said, "Take your time."

   Jeremy moved like I was a snake, coiled and ready to bite.  He grabbed
the deodorant off the shelf and hurriedly went back out through the door.
Damn, what was is with this family?  Each one was more entertaining than
the next.

   * * *

   Dinner was a semi-formal affair in the Campbell household, particularly
in light of having a special guest in the house.  When I'd had a chance to
get myself together, and put on a blazer, I found the whole family waiting
for me downstairs.

   "I'm sorry to keep you waiting, ma'am," I said to Mrs.  Campbell as I
joined them in living room.

   "Not to worry, Marc," she told me indulgently, then by way of
introduction she continued, "You've seen the girls already.  And you
remember Jeremy and Jenna, of course.  They were both away when you arrived
earlier."

   Jeremy and I shook hands like the episode upstairs in the bathroom had
not happened earlier.  This time he was on a firmer footing with his family
around him and I found his grip firm and reassuring.  Like his father and
me, he'd donned a blazer for dinner, although all of us wore our shirts
open at the neck without a tie.  I reflected that Jeremy was a handsome
young man who filled out his blazer with the wiry build of a high school
student, albeit one who was no stranger to sports and working out.

   Jenna on the other hand was as lovely as her older sisters, but had a
freshness and innocence still clinging about her, very willowy and graceful
with only a hint of Melanie's buxomness.  She wore a long summery gown that
hugged her graceful curves.  She would no doubt look very graceful on my
arm at the cotillion.  We exchanged a pleasant embrace, with a kiss on the
cheek that bespoke our Southern hospitality.

   We made our way to the dining room and I assisted Jenna with her chair
as she sat down and then took my place next to her.  Elizabeth was on the
other side of me and Jeremy and Melanie were facing us on the other side.
Mr.  Campbell naturally sat at the head of the table and Mrs.  Campbell sat
opposite him.  The Campbells were many things but poor was certainly not
one of them.  There were two women in uniforms serving us, including the
cook that I'd run into earlier, and they brought out our food on silver
platters.  The china it was served on looked like it might have been Mrs.
Campbell's finest looking china.  And very expensive.

   I was clearly a guest of great honor.  Certainly more than I deserved.

   "I just want to say how happy I am that you could come all this way to
escort me at the cotillion Marc," said Jenna.

   "No problem," I replied, a creamy soup having been set in front of me,
"I'm happy to do it."

   "I'm sure Marc doesn't mind getting away from life in the Marines," her
father said.

   "No, sir," I said, smiling shyly, "And the food's much better."

   That got a chuckle from my audience.  I figured it would be better to
maintain as charming a disposition as possible.  And we'd all started on
our first course by this point.

   "May I ask, though, why you requested me for an escort?  Surely you
would have no trouble finding a willing cadet around."

   This question had been partly directed at Mr.  Campbell, whom I knew to
be well connected, and who I also knew had been educated at the Citadel.

   Jenna looked like she'd been about to reply when her father said, "Well,
you know how it is Marc.  And we wanted to make sure that our youngest girl
had only the very best.  With yourself being an officer and such an old
family friend."

   Then after a pause, he added as an afterthought, "And you'll be able to
keep an eye on Jenna with that Roberts boy.  He's going to be her civilian
escort."

   "Daddy!" said Jenna, embarrassed and irritated, "Dave is not my
boyfriend."

   "I completely understand, sir," I said knowingly, trying to forestall
what appeared to be an old argument I could see brewing in Jenna's eyes.  I
knew what her father was getting at or, at the very least, concerned about.

   Mr.  Campbell looked like he was about to say something else critical of
David Roberts, but his wife prevented him by asking me, "Do you have a
girlfriend Marc?"

   "No, ma'am," I said, "Unfortunately I haven't had too much time lately
with officer's training and receiving my commission."

   "Your mother will want to get you settled down now that Peter has gotten
married.  Having a good woman by your side will do wonders for a man."

   "Yes, ma'am," I said.

   My empty bowl of soup was taken away as the next course of steak and
vegetables was brought out.

   "Do you play tennis Marc?" asked Mr.  Campbell.

   "Yes, sir."

   "Good.  You and Jeremy can play a few games down at the club in the
morning and relax before the rehearsal tomorrow afternoon."

   "I'd like that very much, sir," I said, "Maybe someone can show me some
of the sites around town?"

   "Yes, of course," said Mrs.  Campbell breaking in, "Lizzy and Melanie
can take you out tomorrow night."

   "Yeah," said Elizabeth, next to me, in a drawl as thick as molasses, "We
can find all kinds of suitably diverting entertainments."

   Elizabeth's comment was not lost on me.  But I was taken in by Melanie
nodding enthusiastically in agreement form across the table.  I managed to
smile through it all, sensing a certain amount of tension in the room.

   The conversation meandered onto a number of topics as we finished the
main course and went on to dessert.  Mostly related to how my family was
doing, my father's health, and my older brother's new wife.  After dinner
most of the family adjourned to the living room.  Jenna had a date with
self same David Roberts and went off to change.  Lizzy and Jeremy seemed to
be similarly engaged with other activities and excused themselves as well.
So it appeared to now be my lot to have that little man to man word with
Mr. Campbell.

   He ushered me into a wood paneled den that was so stereotypically
masculine as to be laughable.

   "Scotch, Marc?" he asked and I nodded my assent while saying, "That'd be
great, sir."

   "I don't trust a man who doesn't drink," he said.

   Not knowing if this was meant as a joke I just nodded and kept my mouth
shut.

   "Cigar?" he asked.

   "That'd be great," I said, taking the one proffered.

   "Good man," he said fondly, watching me expertly prepare the cigar,
lighting it and take a long puff.

   We sat down to enjoy the fine aroma, cigar in one hand, drink in the
other.  The scotch was of a very good quality and its smooth, smoky flavor
filed my mouth as its warmth filled my stomach.  I leaned back in my
leather chair in the same manner as my host and meditated with him in
silence on the masculine pursuits of savoring good scotch and an excellent
cigar.

   Finally Mr.  Campbell broke the silence by saying, "Jeremy's still too
young to appreciate the finer things in life," he said, motioning to his
drink as he said this, "And sometimes I get a little lonely in this house
for a buddy to talk to while he's off at school or out with friends.  I'm
surrounded by women, Marc."

   "Well, sir," I said, "I usually have the opposite problem."

   "Call me Greg, Marc," he told me, laughing, "You must get to bang a hell
of a lot of pussy wearing that uniform though."

   "I have no trouble getting laid, Greg," I said pointedly, by way of
showing him that I was every bit his equal now that he'd given me
permission to use his first name, "But you've got to find it to get it, if
you know what I'm saying."

   He nodded, after a moment, I decided to test the waters and ventured
saying, "But in fact I just started seeing a girl not that long ago."

   "Oh?" he said, "Your mother didn't mention anything to Chrissy."

   "Well my mother doesn't know yet.  I only started seeing this chick
after I woke up in her bed this morning."

   Mr.  Campbell smiled broadly.  But it was a very predatory look that he
had in his eyes.

   "I have to say, Marc, I miss the days of chasing pussy.  Sometimes when
I see a pretty girl walk by, I think it's such a waste of an opportunity.
But I'm lucky.  I've got a fine, good looking woman to come home to.  A lot
of men my age can't say that."

   "You're a very lucky man," I said, agreeing with him and honestly
meaning it, "I hope I'm as lucky as you are to have a woman like Mrs. 
Campbell when I've been settled and married for as long as you have."

   "So," he continued nodding at my last comment, "As I said at dinner,
it's good that you're here to keep an eye on Jenna.  She's a good girl, but
I don't like this ne'er-do-well that she's going out with.  His family is
very well connected, in oil you know.  But you know his type.  Cocky little
bastard.  I don't want him banging my daughter.  You being a Marine and
four years his senior should keep him in line."

   "Right," I said, "Happy to do you the favor."

   "Good man," he said again, pausing before continuing, "I've escorted a
few girls to cotillion myself in my day.  You have to be a gentleman.  I
know you are and I know you'll protect her honor."

   We talked about a lot of things after that, sports and guns mostly,
although he never again alluded to his daughter or her virginity.  I didn't
know what kind of girl she was like, but she seemed very sweet.  Although I
knew from personal experience that those kinds of girls were usually the
ones most likely to party hard when you scratched the surface.

   To give Mr.  Campbell some credit, he was easy to talk to and, despite
our age difference, pretty good company actually.  But when the clock
struck midnight, I knew it was time to go to bed.  I'd had a long day, but
hadn't had a lot of sleep the night before thanks to that amazing girl
who'd been balanced on my balls half the night and for most of this
morning. And what with this unexpected trip, I was looking forward to a
good night's rest.

   * * *

   I'd been asleep from the time my head hit the pillow.  But at some point
in the dark night I was aware of a tugging sensation in my boxers and a
certain wet feeling down around my cock.  I recognized that I had a
nighttime boner and there was an incredibly erotic sensation running up and
down its length.

   I opened my eyes and let them adjust to the darkened surroundings.

   A tiny fraction of moonlight shone in through the window illuminating my
bare chest.  The covers had been pulled aside and someone had pulled my
cock and balls through the unbuttoned fly of my boxer shorts.  Looking in
that direction I couldn't actually see my cock, but instead saw a bobbing
head, full of golden hair that was spread out all around my waist.  Whoever
it was they were attacking me with a serious determination.  I reached my
hand down to stroke that beautiful tawny hair, letting some of the silky
strands run through my fingers.

   At my touch Melanie disengaged herself from my cock and looked at me,
smiling.

   "I was hoping you'd wake up," she said.

   "I'm not dreaming?" I asked, still a little groggy with sleep.

   "Maybe you are," she said.

   "Well, if I am, I hope I never wake up."

   She leaned back to lick my cock from the underside of my balls all the
way up my nearly ten inch shaft to the top of my engorged tip.  Then she
stroked me a couple times with her hand as she crawled up the length of my
body, licking each brick of my abs, and sucking on my nipples as she made
her way forward.  When she finally got to my face she gave me a long series
of kisses, closed mouth at first, but she quickly grew bolder and graduated
to mingling her tongue with mine, as we explored the confines of each
other's mouths.  I reached behind her head, holding it gently, so that I
could french the ever loving shit out of that gorgeous mouth of hers.  A
woman like this has to be kissed firmly, hard and often.

   Below, she let her damp pussy rub against my steel rod, slowly humping
me, grinding her soft flesh against my harder flesh.

   I reached up and started rolling her nipples, pulling on them, kissing
down her neck.  Her tits were so beautiful, I leaned down and started
kissing and licking her nipples, first the right and then the left.  As my
head moved closer, I started sucking on one of her tits, trying to suck the
whole thing into my mouth, while playing with the other.  Her nipple
hardened under my touch, and my gentle cupping began to get harder,
squeezing her tit in my hand.  I was pinching and massaging and pulling. 
Melanie started gyrating her hips harder against me now, her ass grinding
into my crotch, my cock getting harder with each circular movement.  My
left hand traveled down to her thigh, and I slowly ran it up to her crotch.
I moved my hand over her box, rubbing a little harder.  I could feel the
heat radiating from her cunt.

   I continued to squeeze Melanie's tits, alternating from one to the
other, pulling them away from her body and pinching and rolling her rock
hard nipples in between my fingers.  She pressed her body into mine, her
skin feeling so hot against me it burned.  I kissed her shoulder, working
my way around it, finally coming to rest on her mouth, our tongues
intertwined, my hands working harder and harder.

   My cock stood at full attention between Melanie's legs.  She moved
forward, and instead of it being sandwiched between my abs and her pussy,
it now sprang up behind her, sticking out and up in front of me, pressing
up against her ass.  Melanie's hands immediately went to it, and she
started rubbing me, her moans getting louder.

   "Oh, it's so big," she murmured, "So hard."

   She changed positions and, increasing the pace, frantically rubbed my
cock against her cunt.  I slowed her down and moved my hands down her back
with my mouth licking and sucking every inch of her skin.

   "Oh...stop teasing me," I begged her, "Please!"

   "Let me do all the work baby," she cooed in my ear.

   Melanie feeling my pain finally spread her lips for me to enter at last.
She pointed my dick at her hole, and I slid in, as she went down my pole,
inch by burning inch.  Then, once situated, she started rising up and down
on my dick.  Slowly at first, moving up and down, Melanie increased the
pace and was soon bouncing up and down at a frantic pace.

   I reached up and grabbed her tits, pulling her forward onto my chest. 
She obliged and I started pumping her cunt wildly.

   "Oh, yes!" she cried, "Fuck me!  Fuck me!  Fuck me!  Fuck me!"

   Oh, she was good and tight.  Her cunt muscles convulsed around my cock.
Her hole was wet and juicy and warm!

   "Tell me when you have to cum, Marc," she instructed me like a school
teacher.

   "Yes, baby," I said, willing to do anything for her at that moment.

   I grabbed her ass cheeks and spread them wide open in my firm grip,
needing the leverage to push her up and down on my cock in order to keep on
pumping into her wildly.  My dick slid easily in and out of her, my balls
started to ache and I knew after about ten minutes or so that I was going
to have to cum real soon.  I told her so and she got up off of me, pulling
me out of her in the process.  She immediately adjusted position further
down so that she could work me with her mouth.  Sucking where she had
recently been fucking.  She sucked and licked, using her hands to
occasionally jack me off.  I was feeling the final pressure start to build
in my nuts as I neared the point of no return.

   "Oh, fuck," I grunted, "Get ready!"

   I pushed her face down into my lap and I thrust myself into her mouth a
couple times, finally shooting a load deep down the back of her throat. 
Our passion subsided and, momentarily satisfied; she crawled up into my
arms as the last remaining drops of cum spilled out onto my boxers.  I
realized that I'd never taken them off.

   After a few blissful seconds of afterglow, I fell asleep with her in my
arms.

   (To be continued...)

   * * *

   Copyright (C) 2006, 2009 by Eagle1.  All rights reserved.  All
characters portrayed in this story are meant to be over the legal age to
consent to sexual activity.  Any similarity to characters or situations,
real or imagined, is purely coincidental.  Unless you happened to be there
of course.  May be reprinted without permission of author in materials
distributed free of charge or on websites where there is no fee charged for
access, provided this copyright notice is attached.