Cat to my friends, Kitty to my boyfriend. Anyone else who calls me Kitty will find that this Kitty has claws. I'm nineteen, or close enough to it to make no real difference, of medium height and with weight commensurate for my height, reasonably fit and reasonably intelligent.
I have a social disposition and make friends easily. I work full-time but can always use a little extra so I sometimes take on the odd babysitting job. The night that the incident happened I was doing some sitting for Mr and Mrs Mack. The Mack's are in their mid-twenties and have two toddlers but they do like to go out at the weekends.
Mr Mack is a salesman and seems to earn a decent living as they always seem to have money to spend. What are they like as people?
Well, they're never going to be in my social circle but I don't actively dislike them. Neither do I really like them. I guess I'm just sort of indifferent where they are concerned. Ivy, that's Mrs Mack, is dogmatic and argumentative and doesn't really like you arguing back, no matter how stupid her opinion. If she thought of it, it must be so. She has a streak of cattiness in her so I learnt not to contradict her, or try to argue with her, the first time I sat for her.
I can be very diplomatic when I try. Frank Mr Mack is an extrovert. One of those hail fellow well met type of person, an instant friend to everyone he meets. He's tall, dark, and handsome, and god's gift to the female sex. If you don't believe me, ask him. Some people would say he's full of himself and is likely to do his back in carrying around that giant ego of his, but not me.
When they got home from the party that they'd been attending it was obvious that they'd been arguing. The atmosphere was so thick between them that you could cut it with a knife, but a wise person would make sure there were no knives within reach. They were still arguing when they came in, not loudly, but quietly with a vicious edge. This was not one of those arguments you made up after in bed. I stood to one side as they sliced and diced each other, waiting for a break so I could politely ask for my pay and get the hell out of Dodge, letting the fight roll on without me.
As it was, when the break came I timed my request badly. Ivy had just made a nasty crack about Frank not getting any tonight and probably never again if he didn't watch himself. Frank had retorted that if he wanted some he could get it quite easily, without her help. She'd retaliated with a scornful comment on Frank's ability to find another woman, and they both shut up and glared at each other.
With them both silent I coughed discretely and they both turned to look at me. I was hastily stuffing it in my purse and saying goodbye when Frank spoke up. Unfortunately, I was standing too close to Ivy, and she reached over and snagged my arm. It can be taken two ways. After all, I know she wants me so why should I listen to her trying to do the right thing about not sleeping with a married man?
I just want to go home. So are you going to take her anyway? Put your money where your mouth is. It's past time for me to go. I've always thought Cat considered herself better than us. This will bring her down to earth. We were in the kitchen and Frank pulled a chair out from the kitchen table and sat on it. At the same time he dragged me across his lap, face down. I was kicking and squealing and getting nowhere.
Frank had one hand in the middle of my back holding me in place and with the other one he lifted up my dress and pulled my panties down.
Next thing I knew there was a hard spank on my bottom. Ivy, finish taking her panties off for me. With my bottom bare, Frank was taking full advantage, rubbing both my bottom and my pussy. My one attempt to keep my legs closed tightly together was met be a prompt spank and a firm warning.
I either let him do what he wanted, or suffer the consequences. I pointed out that I was suffering consequences either way but my opinion was ignored. Frank was also feeling fairly lazy it seemed. If I'm going to fuck her I want her naked. I wriggled and hindered her to a certain extent but didn't dare struggle too hard as that would invite another spank. The rotten bitch was actually sniggering triumphantly when she finally peeled my bra off, leaving me completely naked.
Frank was enjoying himself, running his hands all over me. Concentrating on my breasts and pussy, of course, but also touching me everywhere, running his hands over my bottom, along my legs, up my back and around my neck. He seemed to be getting a kick out of the fact that he could do what he liked to me and there was nothing I could do to stop him. I will admit he was careful not to hurt me, apart from those spanks to my bottom, and they were more of a warning than anything else.
I suppose that was fair enough, in a way. If he had been deliberately hurting me all bets would have been off and I'd have been fighting like a tiger. Or like a cat, anyway. I'd have done my best to scratch his face off. The reason I didn't do it now was because I was afraid of the retaliation. Something that I found to be a source of the greatest irritation was the fact that his touching was getting to me.
I was becoming aroused. Against my will, maybe, but definitely aroused. It became even worse when Ivy started playing. She told Frank to concentrate on his parts and she started stroking my breasts while Frank let his fingers go wandering into my more intimate area, slipping between my lips, testing my internal preparedness. Frank finally decided I was ready for the next step.
He swung me back onto my feet and pushed up against the kitchen table, leaning over it. I braced myself with my hands and tried to move my feet together. I gave up on that idea when he laughed and said, "Spank? I almost screamed when I felt him spreading my lips because I knew what was coming.
I was so right. I could feel the bulbous head of his cock leaning into me, rudely pushing its way past my lips, starting down the damp tunnel to my secret self. I could feel myself being stretched to accommodate him, his turgid shaft filling me.
The rotten swine took it nice and easy, moving into me quite slowly but not stopping, going deeper and deeper until he was fully inside me. If you cooperate and move with me you'll find things will go smoothly and soon be over. If you don't cooperate then it will probably take me a lot longer to reach the end point.
I'll get there either way. Does it take longer if the woman doesn't move? It didn't really matter. If it got him off faster I'd play a trombone solo while he fucked, just to get it over with, so if moving would help. Frank started thrusting into me, taking it slowly at first to make sure that I was moving with him, slowly speeding up until we were moving at a decent pace. With his basic rhythm established he reached around and took hold of my breasts, squeezing them to the rhythm of his cock-work.
The trouble with sex, I decided, about thirty seconds after Frank had started fucking me, was that if you were properly aroused it felt good, even if the fucker was a low-life asshole with delusions of male supremacy. Frank, damn him, had got me properly aroused with his foreplay and was now taking full advantage of that fact. He plugged away and my bottom bounced in accord with his movements, bringing me pleasure and exciting me. Every time he thrust into me I could feel my excitement levels rising, every stoke adding to the ones that had gone before.
I was desperately trying to keep my mouth closed, ignoring little urges that wanted to egg him on and demand that he go harder and faster. What I wanted was for him to stop. Stop after I'd had a climax, possibly, but to stop. My mood was not improved by Ivy's comments, suggesting that Frank hadn't really needed to force me. I could hear myself giving little grunts of exertion as Frank drove in and I pushed to meet him, our groins slapping noisily together.
It is, I found, hard to plan a fitting revenge while you're being bounced off a large cock. Not that I'd actually seen Frank's cock, but it sure felt large. As it was, my mind would wander to nasty things I could do but before I could formulate a plan Frank would come driving in, scattering my thoughts, leaving me wanting to scream. I could understand Ivy not wanting to have sex with him tonight.