Mr. Possessive Guardian: Please let Me Go!

8 Head-Butt

Ms. Ford and Westley were putting on their clothes when Doris barged in, and Westley raised his eyebrow questioningly. Before he could say anything, though, Doris looked him in the eye and demanded to know if he was attracted to her. "Wesley," she shouted, "are you fascinated with me? If that's the case, I'm afraid that someone will be jealous." She eyed Ms. Ford, and then turned back to Westley. "So, I suggest you make it clear."

"Make what clear?" Wesley asked.

Doris gasped, and then she said, "That you have long been infatuated with me, and that we are in love with each other."

Ms. Ford looked at Doris incredulously and said, "What a joke! You and Wesley? Come on! As I remember, you attend our school as an accelerated student. Have you even come of age? Look at your t**s! Have you even hit puberty? I don't think you deserve Wesley!"

Doris puffed out her handful-sized breasts with pride and said, "Excuse me for a moment, but I am Wesley's type! What would he want with an old crone like you?"

As Mr. Ford flinched away from Doris's harsh words, Doris walked over to Westley. She took his hand, and when she pressed it against her pubic mound, he gasped. This was a fatal temptation, she knew, and cruel test for a man with normal physical needs, but it was even more tempting for a man with a penchant for younger adolescent girls. As Doris applied more pressure to Westley's hand, she moaned gently, and he turned to Ms. Ford and said, "Tiffany, I'm really crazy about Doris, and she is more my type. You should go."

Wesley's surprising words made Doris palpitate. She felt butterflies flitting about in her stomach, and her face turned red as her mons pubis warmed to his touch. Ms. Ford frowned and stamped her feet, and then she barged out the door, slamming it behind her. And the moment she was gone, Doris pushed Westley's hand away from her moist s*x. I want him – she admitted to herself – but I will not let him know it!

"I did you a big favor," Doris laughed. "How are you going to thank me?"

Doris turned to leave, but Westley wouldn't allow it. He grabbed her wrist, twisted it painfully behind her back, and pressed her against the wall. Doris struggled to get away, but there was no hope of escape. "Please, don't," she whined. "If you let me go now, I will introduce you to other girls at another time, and they will be like me, except they will be eager!"

Westley leaned around Doris with his free and put it back where Doris had put it, only this time he slid it into her jeans so that the only thing between it and her v****a was her thin damp panties. And as he applied pressure, now directly to her c******s, he whispered in her ear: "Other girls, you say? For a threesome…?"

"No!" Doris cried, in pleasure and frustration. "I could be a matchmaker for you! "I could befriend girls my age and send them your way!"

Wesley twisted Doris's arm a little harder, and at the same time, he began to move the fingers of his other hand in slow circles, mixing pleasure and pain in equal measure. And one voice in Doris's mind screamed for him to stop, while another voice begged him to – NEVER STOP!

And then, without warning, Westley ceased his ministrations and whispered into her ear: "And what kind of girls do you think I would like?"

Rather than reply, Doris threw her head backward, and there was an aggressive THUD as the back of her head connected with his forehead. "f**k!" Westley hissed. "You b***h!"

But he didn't let her go. And now I am really in for it! – Doris realized, and she began to squirm harder than ever. Doris wasn't able to get away, but to keep his hold on her, Westley was forced to pull his hand out of her pants, and her senses were overwhelmed by the musky/sweet scent of her s*x on his fingers as he used that hand to push her shoulder against the wall.

As she struggled, Westley pressed his engorged member against her buttocks, and she could tell that the more she resisted, the more aroused he became, so she forced herself to go limp in his arms. Be still – she commanded her body – be passive.

Once Westley realized what was going on, he released her shoulder and hooked his thumb into the waist of her jeans and the elastic in her panties so that he could push them down and force himself on her, but just as the jeans dropped past her ass and fell to the floor, the door opened, and someone gasped. And someone, a ghost-male, said, "Geez... You... You dirty man! And with a student!!!!!!"

Wesley frowned and turned his head. "Get out!" he shouted.

The door closed quickly then, without Doris knowing who the intruder had been. And as soon as they were gone, Westley began to laugh. "You would think that after being interrupted once," he said, "I would have thought to lock the door!"

After a second, Doris took a deep breath and said, "Would you please let me go?"

"Yeah, why not?" Westley replied. He let her go, and once she'd pulled up her pants and panties, she turned around to face him.

Westley looked at Doris seriously and said, "Just don't try to tell me that you didn't like that!" He was wearing the same grin, now, that he'd had on when she'd walked in on him f*****g Ms. Ford. It was half Cheshire cat, half-shark. He winked and added, "This is just one of the benefits of being under a Guardianship Order!"

Doris's mouth dropped open, and she was struck dumb. She wanted to deny his claim over her, but she could not. After all, if he could drive her to such a state of arousal once, he could certainly do it again.

Doris looked at the clock suddenly and realized that she was running late for her next class. She told him that she needed to go and why, and this time he let her go. As she turned to leave, though, Doris glanced at Wesley's white shirt to where a strand of hair hung stubbornly to an amber button. She reached for the hair, held it in the air, and let it fall. "See you tonight," she whispered seductively, in a tone pregnant with implications.