Tegan arrived at Glenda Jackson's apartment shortly before 6pm Friday evening and buzzed the intercom. It was formerly the apartment she shared with him until their breakup and she didn't have the fondest memories of leaving here. She was carrying only a small overnight bag which contained little else than her phone, notecase, keys, and a change of apparel that she expected to wear when she left William Ashley Sunday night. In their text conversations planning for the weekend Andrew Jackson had assured her she wouldn't be requiring clothing, and if he expected the crudity of his suggestive language to floor her, then he would probably be far more traumatise to learn about what she had been up to since their tear. His vague allusions to what had planned to do with their two days together rolled in over a series of textual matter that sporadically appeared on her earpiece at random intervals, apparently whenever he thought of something and she imagined him playing with himself when he sent them. The most hardihood risky venture she'd had with him was the meter she'd blown him in the car and he'd sent her in to buy some cigarettes with his heart on her face without telling her that she was too booze to acknowledge her shirt wasn't covering her tit. That had been the catalyst for him wanting to get her naked in front of his friends all the sentence, which had sent their relationship into a downwardly spiral as she fought against his exhibitionism by placeholder. She felt she knew what his appetites were, and what to anticipate from the weekend. She'd also stashed her diminished collecting of sex plaything that she'd accumulated as natural endowment and from her trip to the sex shop in case Jackson wanted to get originative - handlock, blindfold, gag, lube, and the large dildo. She hadn't used the dildo since the first prison term the guys had used it on her, but she doubted Jackson had one of his own lying around and wanted to ensure he had options.

"Hello ?"crackled Jackson's voice from the intercom.

"It's me."Tegan said. The door buzzed and she pushed it candid, making her way to the lift. Their apartment had been in a fairly modern construction in a new maturation. The fact that all the blocks and houses had been developed by the one ship's company made the neighborhood boring and generic but at to the lowest degree it was affordable for the timber. She stood anxiously in the lift clutching her bag in her hands as she rode up to the secondment floor then along the Hall to the end. The door opened as she approached and Jesse Jackson greeted her with an awkward grinning, standing aside to let her in, the heavy door thudding shut behind her. Just inside the door there was a small computer memory room. The hall hooked to the left into the chief living area with its kitchenette, with doorway leading to the bedroom and laundry on the right.

She stood in the heart of the life room which made up about half the overall square footage and set her bag down, doing a slow kink as she refamiliarised herself with her erstwhile home plate. None of the furniture was dissimilar. The blinds were retracted giving flooring to ceiling panorama of the corner-wrapping balcony and the neighbouring edifice. Contrary to her expectations it was very blank and tidy, and she wondered if Helen Hunt Jackson had become a better housekeeper or if he'd made a peculiar effort for her sojourn. There was one famed conflict, a digital camcorder on a tripod in the turning point that presumably captured the wholly way. She regarded it impassively for a instant noting it didn't currently appear to be switched on, then turned to Jackson who was watching her with an air of expectation. Jackson had hardly changed. He was slender and muscular, the sun-bleached hair and tan of a surfer, wearing a pair of long short and a faded promiscuous fitting beach singlet.

"So. Here I am."She said.

"I wasn't sure if you'd actually show."Michael Joe Jackson noted.

There was a protracted awkward silence.

"Can I get you a coffee ?"Jackson suggested."I just made a fresh pot."

"Sure."Tegan said, moving to the dining tabular array just in social movement of the kitchen bench and taking a seat as Jackson poured two phiz. He gave her a minuscule Milk River and one sugar without needing to ask and placed the mug down, sitting down across from her as she took a sip.

"So this is superintendent awkward."Stonewall Jackson said in an attempt to infract the ice.

"I'm not sure why. We both know why I'm here."Tegan took another sip of coffee."To be good I'm surprised I still have dress on."

"It was one thing to text about it but now that you're here I'm wondering why you reached out the way you did. I mean that pic you sent me… I'm guessing all that didn't come from one dude."

"It did not."Tegan said casually."Don't headache, everyone is properly screened. I'm clean."

"How many guy wire have you been with ? Since we split up ?"Jackson asked.

"You really wan na know ?"Tegan challenged.

Jackson silently appraised the question, apparently unable to decide.

"I'll make you a deal."Tegan continued, trying to locomote things along."Once this weekend is over, if you still want to have it off, I will tell you everything. Suffice it to say, I have experimented a lot. When we broke up, it was because I felt like you were pushing me to do things I wasn't comfortable with, and I was tired of having to explain that to you. I've changed a lot since then. To be enlighten I'm not proposing we get back together - I plan to stay uncommitted for the foreseeable future - but I do retrieve that if I had been able to discover myself a class ago, things might have been different. So… here I am. I don't want you to treat me like the lady friend you had, I want you to treat me like the whore you wished I was."

"That's quite a speech."capital of Mississippi responded wryly.

"I was practising on the ride over."Tegan took another sip of her coffee to occupy the postdate pause in the conversation. After thinking it over for a bit Thomas Jackson went over to the camcorder and switched it on then beckoned to Tegan to join him in the middle of the room. She set down her almost vacate mug and walked over to him and he took her deal and stood facing the camera.

"Since you're recording, can I get a copy ?"Tegan asked.

"Sure."Jackson said, a note of surprise in his articulation. Making a sex mag tape was one of his many bedchamber hint to which Tegan had repeatedly objected."Are you going to ask that I not let anyone see it ?"

"No."

"You don't fear ?"Helen Maria Fiske Hunt Jackson said, challengingly.

"I encourage it."Tegan countered.

"You really have changed. Let's see how much."Jackson gripped her by the throat and squeezed gently and Tegan instinctively took a deep breather."You've been a meddlesome footling harlot oasis't you ?"

"Yes."

"Yes what ?"Jackson demanded, squeezing her throat a niggling harder.

"Yes Sir."Tegan said, her voice strained.

"Master."Jackson commanded.

"Yes Master."Tegan complied.

"takings off your clothes."Jackson said, shoving her slightly as he released her throat, turning away he stalked over to the camera and removed it from the tripod, watching her through the screen as he moved closer and took a sweeping shot of her from her metrical unit to her head.

Tegan held the skirt of the apparel and coyly did a half twirl letting it playfully billow out for a moment before reaching behind her neck and untied the burl keeping the straps covering her chest in station and as soon as she released them the dress fell to the story, sliding down her slender frame and puddling around her feet.

"Not even wearing any panties."Jackson commented from his gonzo camera operator power point of eyeshot as he zoomed in on her tits and reached out with one handwriting to pinch one of her nipples, keeping her face in the shot as she placidly accepted his touch.

"Sit on the sofa and pass around your peg. Start playing with yourself."

Tegan obeyed, sitting on his couch and spreading her thighs, tucking her heel up on the couch under her ass as she gently stroked her kitty lips with her fingers, gradually teasing herself for the camera as Jackson filmed. She knew that this was more about showing herself to the camera than about authentically pleasuring herself, but she dipped the tip of a finger into herself to gain some of her wet and use it to knead into her clit, finding herself excited by the context even without needing to manually perk up herself. Jackson slowly panned the camera back up over her body, focusing on her font and she obligingly moved her hands up, using her fingertips to lightly caress her mamilla, circling the outer sharpness of her ring of color, giving him her better effort at seductive ‘ bedroom eyes ’.

"You've get a little porn star."Andrew Jackson commented as he reached out to caress her face with his gratis hand, sticking his ovolo in her mouth which she obligingly sucked on, keeping eye contact with the lens."Never seen this girl so hot for it before. This pussy miss me ?"Jackson asked as he pushed a finger into her slit and found her wet possibility, slipping inside.

"Mmhmm."Tegan answered, playfully biting her lip as Jackson kept the camera focused on her face.

"Yeah, I bet it did… that's why you've come crawling back. On your knees."Andrew Jackson wiped his fingerbreadth off on her lips then backed up a tone as Tegan slid off the sofa and knelt on the floor.

There was no luck of mistaking what he expected from her now and she immediately reached for the drawstring of his board short circuit, eyefucking the camera as she slowly pulled one of the dangling close to undo the slipknot, and slowly eased them down. Not wearing underclothing either, his semi-erect putz immediately popped free and she let his underdrawers descent to the floor as she wrapped her hands around the al-Qa'ida. Jackson was a good size - certainly not huge, but definitely to a higher place norm. She wrapped both manus around the stem, her digit and thumbs overlapping as she gently massaged his private parts, teasing Sir Thomas More spirit into his slowly stiffening rod. Old Hickory was using one hand to hold back his singlet and the other keeping the camera trained on her, watching through the viewscreen to ensure he wasn't missing a detail.

keeping her hands around the al-Qaeda of his cock Tegan nuzzled it with her cheek before parting her lips to caress the underside as she looked up at the camera, using her tongue to stroke the underside. While she was here because she had been challenged to be there was no deluding herself that she would not take in come if she didn't want to, and playing up to the camera was a new and wind up prospect for her. She wondered who would ultimately see it - would he keep it in his common soldier collection to enjoy in the lonely nighttime ahead once the weekend was over, or share it with supporter ? She felt a chill as she earnestly hoped he would share it and render it to multitude she used to know, the same multitude he always tried to demonstrate her off to. pass on her recent experience she was already beginning to palpate disappointed that she didn't have a hold up audience for her weekend of military volunteer sexual enslavement, even as she took him in her mouth and began to slowly work his rotating shaft with her lip, and one hand, idly caressing his second joint and scummy belly with her other hand with roamed casually, gliding over and tickling him whenever it roamed. When she glanced up at Jackson the crystalline lens of the camera met her gaze and she pulled off him for a moment to lewdly waggle the tip of her tongue against his frenulum before continuing her crusade. She was more than glad to have her time and make it go, in no hurry to get him to finish and for his part, Thomas Jackson seemed to be so preoccupied with filming her at work that he wasn't urging her along either, casually resting his manus on the back of her head.

After a few hour or slowly easing him in and out he abruptly pulled her fountainhead to his inguen, forcing himself into her throat and making her gag as he caught her off guard before easing off enabling her to pull back a little and postulate in some air, only to again impel himself into her pharynx again. She let out a halter gagging noise and tried to brace her hands against his second joint as an natural defensive response, but realised that this was what he wanted. The tv camera hovered in her peripheral vision and she could feel herself going red in the face, her eyes watering slightly as Michael Jackson began to vigorously facefuck her and she simply let it happen, feeling her saliva get smeared around her mouth and all over her Kuki-Chin. She obligingly let him roughly use her oral fissure for as long as possible but when air became an emergence she frantically tapped out on his thigh and he pushed her straits back, leaving her gasping against the couch.

"Lie back"he commanded, gesturing at the couch she was leaning against. She pulled herself up onto the deep shock and lay back against the backrest with her ass on the edge. There was no mistaking what he wanted next.

"ranch your legs."Stonewall Jackson instructed, though Tegan was already complying. She parted her thigh and balanced her heels on the edge of the couch either side of her, putting her small slit on video display for him again. Stonewall Jackson held the camera close to her, capturing every item of her hairless, slightly bouffant lips, evidence of her fervour glistening on her inner folds.

"spreadhead it"Michael Jackson repeated and Tegan slid her hand under her thighs and used her fingers to undress back her labia, better exposing her soft pink ladyparts, her swollen clit. After filming her spread kitty for a minute he was finally unable to defy the siren call of her wet hole and moved himself into lieu, guiding his hard-on with one paw and trying to keep the camera steadfast with the early. Tegan obligingly held herself open and set up as she felt the flared psyche of his cock mechanical press against her and find out her entranceway. She let out a satisfied sigh and tilted her head back as she felt him push into her slippery tunnel and easily slew in until he was buried up to the hilt inside her.

When she looked back at him she found herself staring into the camera lens again and shyly bit her lip in embarrassment, though this was more than out of instinctive reflex than any real belief of shyness. She moaned as Jackson began to affect, again taking his time slowly as he adjusted to the ardent grip, panning the camera down her slowly undulating body to show himself moving in and out.

"fille this dick, child ?"Thomas J. Jackson taunted her. She wasn't sure if it was rhetorical or not so she responded with a vaguely approving"mmhmm"for the benefit of the recording.

"I admit, I missed this pussy, this tight little body."Glenda Jackson crooned. He pointed the photographic camera at her breast and filmed himself roughly tugging on one of her mammilla making her pant, then releasing it, watching her slight tit snap back."I know you've been out slutting it up all over town but me, I haven't been laid since you walked out on me, so I've got a lot of catching up to do."

With that Stonewall Jackson began to make a motion faster, doing his best to sustain the camera trained on their groins as he repeatedly slid into her, but this seemed to present some difficulties. Wordlessly Tegan reached out and took the tv camera in her men. Jackson released his grip on it and Tegan turned it so she could see the viewfinder screen, trying to keep it focused on the action mechanism even as Jackson braced himself against the rachis of the couch and began to pound her as fast as he could. It was a dictated, rough pound that he threw his entire body weight into, with one aim - getting as mystifying inside her as he could. A deliberate piledriving question that gave no consideration to anything but a hard fucking. Tegan panted as Jackson drilled her, her blazon shaking as she struggled to keep the natural process in frame. Her body was tingling but it didn't seem likely she was going to fall before Jackson did as he steadily worked towards it. With one final thrust he took her by the rose hip to force himself as deep as he could get and she could feel him twitching thick inside several times before the hot sensation of his seed pulsing up against her cervix, Helen Hunt Jackson groaning in fill-in as his load spilled inside her. They stayed locked together as he continued to pinch, then he slowly drew out of her, his softening appendage caked with a mix of their fluids.

Glenda Jackson took the photographic camera back from her and put one foot up on the couch, standing over her to face himself to her face.

"clean and jerk it up."Helen Hunt Jackson said bluntly. It occurred to Tegan that she had never done for him while they were together - she had always been shy about wanting to smack herself, at to the lowest degree until her intimate experience - and appetites - had grown. Even with Bethany she was hesitant to osculate after receiving oral sex. But that reticence felt like a different biography. She graciously opened her lip and took him in her back talk, relishing the mix of flavours and texture of the mucilaginous goo coating as she bathed his shaft clean with a generous practical application of saliva and tongue before giving him one long last suck, her cheeks drawn inwards as he was released from her mouth with an audible pop.

"Good girl."Jackson complimented her as he stepped off the lounge and moved the camera back to her pussy, presumably to conquer that freshly-fucked look and the gooey mess seeping out of her ravaged gash. Apparently satisfied Michael Jackson panned the camera back up her body to her face.

"Wave good-bye to your fans."Jackson coaxed and Tegan playfully waved at the camera and blew a kiss.



-- --



Jackson shut off the camera and placed it back on the tripod, plugging it in to file. Tegan remained slumped on the couch observation Jackson casually go about his business. She thought about the video, about watching herself in action. Sometimes in her Sir Thomas More extreme encounters of late she had almost felt like she was outside herself observing as she performed acts she never believed she was capable of or had ever considered, but at some point in time she would actually do that and it excited her. Not so often seeing herself in action, but seeing what others saw, and even sharing it with them. She imagined Sam would be all too discriminating to check her home plate made erotica, maybe even while fucking her. The thought made her chuckle.

"Something funny ?"Jackson asked her, having finished with the camera.

"Just thinking about getting fucked while watching my own sex tape."Tegan confessed, as casually as she might let asked for a glass of water.

"Already thinking ahead ?"Jackson queried wryly."We've barely started here."

"I know, but I guess I'm still horny."Tegan said with a shrug.

"Oh, you didn't get to come."Michael Joe Jackson said sympathetically as he walked over to her.

"No. But that doesn't matter."

"No."Jackson suddenly reached out and took her jaw in his hand, tilting her head to appear up at him as he loomed over her."It doesn't matter. You're not here to come, are you ? You're here to please me."

Tegan looked up at him, her centre pleading submissively as he reminded her of her place.

"Do you sympathize, slut ?"Old Hickory commanded.

"Yes Master."Tegan mumbled.

"What ?"Jackson demanded, releasing her jaw to enable her to speak clearly.

"Yes Master."Tegan repeated.

"Good adulteress. Don't forget again, I don't want to waste prison term punishing you instead of fucking you."Jackson said, pulling his shorts back on. He picked up her dress and threw it at her."Get dressed, hussy. We're going out."



Jackson didn't distinguish her to clean herself up or put underwear on, so she didn't - and didn't ask permission to do so. She did use the bathroom to pee - a requirement region of the sex ritual if she wanted to avoid UTIs - but did nothing about the mess hall he put inside her that clung to the walls of her vagina and would probably seep out of her soon enough. She stepped back into her shoes and Jackson stepped into some thongs, putting an arm around her waist to see her out of the flat to the elevator. They descended to the undercoat story in silence and strolled out of the building. Tegan was odd where they were going - because wherever it was it was in walking distance - but resisted the urge to ask. Old Hickory would probably just tell her it wasn't her place to have sex. Unexpectedly, he began some idle chit-chat.

"So where are you living these Clarence Day anyway ?"He queried.

"A house a duad of suburbs over, Master."Tegan responded, nodding her brain to the east indicating a slightly nice surface area of the expectant metropolitan region. She wasn't sure if she was expected to keep up the Master/slave routine while they weren't having sex but figured it couldn't help to massage his ego with it.

"Share house ?"

"Yes Master."Tegan nodded. The suburban small town she was living in was known for being trendy with Edward Young people who couldn't really give to survive there. plowshare trapping was rough-cut. Of course he didn't know she was living with three guys, and fucking them to live there for innocent. She would acknowledge it if he asked but opted not to offer it.

"You've been pretty quieten on social lately."Thomas Jackson commented, admitting he was keeping an eye on her from afar.

"I guess the things I've been busy with aren't really Facebook-friendly, Master."Tegan suggested wryly. They were heading in the general steering of what passed for a commercial district in the area, near to a train station, a supermarket and casual dining.

"Guess not."Michael Joe Jackson responded seemingly distractedly. He put his arm around her waist and pulled her close down them let his handwriting sleep on her ass as they sidled yesteryear a few masses trickling along the sidewalk as they got into a busy area, previous commuters headed home to protrude the weekend. Eventually they found themselves outside a diminished Mediterranean café and Helen Maria Fiske Hunt Jackson gestured towards one of the mesa in the outdoor area.

"illusion some dinner ? I haven't eaten yet."

"Sure."Tegan responded. She felt it was an opinion based query and didn't warrant a more submissive response. She took a tail end, tucking the chick of her dress under her as Jackson pushed her president in then sat opposite her. An efficient waitress came out to take their drink order of magnitude and lead them some menus to peruse. There was a curt silence while they both skimmed over the fare then Jackson set his down, folding his hands in nominal head of him while he waited. Tegan set down her carte du jour and mirrored his body language, though she sat unsloped wanting to appear spanking, while Jackson was more hunched forward as if expectant.

"It's heavily to believe I'm sitting here with you."Jackson said in a whole tone that concerned Tegan. If Jackson still had feelings for her - feelings she didn't intention to reciprocate - this could get emotionally complicated. She supposed this was the confessedly nature of the challenge presented, a test of her excited resoluteness. It would have been easier if he had just tied her up and whipped her.

"You know why I am here, Master. We discussed it."Tegan reminded him, trying to inject some formalities. She had given him the basic gist during their text sessions - she had to nail this challenge, and it had to be with a former lover. She had left out the exact circumstances of how the challenge came about, which was easy given how a great deal she didn't really know. As far as he knew, she had gone to a sex party and ended up with a lot of semen on her. He didn't know about the extent of the tribulation, or exactly how many men there were, item she felt were better left a mystery.

They were interrupted by their waitress returning with their drinks and they seized the second to place their food Holy Order. Tegan took a sip of her soda to buy a second while she composed her persuasion, hoping he wouldn't printing press her for more details.

"If sole my friends could see you now."He said pointedly, referring to their previous disagreement.

"Isn't that what the television is for ?"Tegan chided him dismissively.

"I mean in person."Thomas Jonathan Jackson brushed the insinuation aside, making no attempt to refuse it.

"What is it about showing me off that got you going, anyway ?"Tegan asked, leaning forward to mirror Old Hickory's body nomenclature."Was it about your Quaker seeing what you got to have, or about humiliating me ?"

"I dunno."Jackson said, taking a sip of his boozing."The mind just seemed fun. It got me going to think about you flirting with former guys."

"So there was no really thought process behind it ? Or is this like, a cheat thing ?"Tegan suggested.

"I'm no cuck"Mahalia Jackson said with a shrug."I would be involved. I think I just liked the idea of making you do scarf out - but not to humiliate you. I wanted you to be into it."

"What if your buddy had gotten handsy ? Gotten more than just an eyeful ?"

"I didn't really think about it that far, since you never wanted to go along with it."Jackson said thoughtfully.

"well, I did. Whenever I thought about letting myself be pressured into doing something like that I was always thinking ahead. What would be the next step ? Was I going to twist up letting your booster pertain me ? Even fuck me, as affair got out of control ?"Tegan picked up her cola and took a long sip, adding a pause to return Thomas Jonathan Jackson an opportunity to think."Would you have let that happen ?"

"No."Jackson said, but Tegan wasn't sure he was being truthful.

"Why not ?"She countered.

"Because you were my girl. I didn't really want them to have a piece of you. It was just for fun."

"I see."Tegan had to confess that he was probably telling the truth about not thinking it through and she didn't want to put a damper on the weekend ahead by interrogating him to the spot of defeat, but she did wonder how much he would have gone along with had she been unforced to let him press out the issue.

After an awkward pause their food arrived, the waitress deftly setting down their crustal plate - Jesse Louis Jackson had ordered some Elia kofta with tzatziki and Tegan had opted for some freshly made dolmades and pickled veg. The waitress seemed to pick up on the stiffness of the secretiveness that had fallen between them.

"Is everything uh… ok here ?"She asked, taking her notepad out of her pocket distractedly.

"Can I get another diet blow, thanks."Tegan said, flashing her a brilliant smile.

"zero for me."Thomas Jonathan Jackson said distractedly.

"Sure."She left them alone again and Tegan started delicately picking at her dolmades with her fingers delicately biting into one.

"Mm, zilch beats fresh."Tegan said, then directed her care back to Helen Maria Fiske Hunt Jackson."You've gone quiet."

"Just thinking."

"must be about something good."

"Oh, yeah, I think so."Thomas Jackson speared one of his kofta with his fork and swiped it through the tzatziki on his photographic plate, taking a raciness as his eyes finally met hers again. Tegan wondered if their conversation had rattled him, but he seemed to cause rallied as he grinned at her across the table."Eat up, you're going to ask your DOE. ”