AUTHOR'S NOTE:
Under 17's PLEASE STAY AWAY! Strong sexual and adult situations! DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDERAGE AND/OR FIND ADULT THEMES OFFENSIVE!

The Veda Diaries: "The Seventh Hunt"

Part 2

Ah, good old Rob, with his oh-so conservative platform built on "family values". Ha! Well, let's see what would happen if wifey and kiddies, not to mention his hotshot, uptight daddy dearest should happen to walk in on us right now. I'm really enjoying this. Of all the men I've seduced and ruined, Rob is the #1. He's everything I find despicable -- pretending to be all high and mighty, upstanding members of the community, touting Mom and apple pie...Yeah, yeah, typical "Leave It to Beaver" suburban fantasy...

Mmm...Rob is a fantastic lover, then again, he has had more than his fair share of women, and I don't mean his wife. You know, Rob told me that night we first made love, that he and his wife don't even sleep in the same room. He'd divorce her but his oh-so precious daddy who pressured him to do everything by the book, talked him out of it. Rob told me that he only stays with her 'cause of the kids. Kids??? They're teenagers for God's sake! One's off to college next fall. Gee, what a coward you are, Rob. You with your sob stories of how Daddy made you go to law school when you really wanted to teach middle school kids. How he forced you to marry Miss Congeniality instead of the cute gal who worked the perfume counter at Ayres. How he got you the job with a top law firm, and now, he's orchestrating your political career. You don't want that, do you Rob?

Ah! Ooh! He's really digging into me now, I can feel him driving up my wet passion pit with such abandon. Rob, are you sure this is the same man who just yesterday got on TV and trashed his opponent with being on the side of, and I quote, "Immoral left-wing agitators who want to destroy the family." What hypocrisy! You, the ever so right-living moral man who goes to church only because Daddy says it makes you look good to voters. You, who preaches to the kids to stay away from booze, dope, and sex because they might corrupt themselves. Looks like someone didn't take his own advice, and I'm loving it, you hear? I'm loving every minute, every inch, every long hard inch of you!

Rob tears his way up inside, thrusting hard, the tip of his penis touching my cervix. Oooh! Ahh! Oh, that's feels so good. He's by far the most potent lover I've ever had, unlike Jeremy or Chad or the countless other nameless, faceless bastards stupid enough to fall for my charms. I buck under him in a slow steady rhythm, hoping he'd slow down long enough for me to enjoy this fantastic sex. But he doesn't even pay attention to me; he just cares about a wham-bam — a quick, highly charged erotic session — and his own pleasure. Selfish, selfish! I'll fix you, Rob. I'll get you good!

It went on like this for nearly three months, long enough for me to gather all evidence I needed to ruin good old boy Rob. During our affair, we seldom went out in public except to a couple of strip joints and night spots far from town, where they don't know Rob. But Rob insisted that we keep the affair under wraps, lest someone recognizes him and tips his opponent, or, worse yet, the media. The last night of our passionate rendezvous, Rob told me he had to break it off. It's been fun, but he didn't want to risk public scandal if he was ever found out. I didn't cry or make a scene. I didn't love him; I just wanted great sex. So I indulged him one more time.
That night, while Rob indulged his fantasies, subsequently finding himself bucking under me, he didn't notice that tiny holes in the wall beside the closet. He had no idea all our sessions had been videotaped and photographed. The jerk! The stupid, asinine jerk!

Hmm...Come to think of it, for this night, I wanted to do something very special for Rob. Somehow, I learned, through another of Rob's "conquests", that he had a fetish. How about that! For three months he said nothing to me that he had a thing for the wild and kinky. So, that night, I dug out that black latex dominatrix suit, you know, the one that's extra skintight. I put it on, got out those thigh-high black leather boots with five-inch spiked heels that fit so snugly on my shapely legs, and snapped the whip. Oh my God, was he surprised, and oh so grateful.

"Get down on your knees!," I commanded, snapping that whip within inches of his naked body. Rob did have a beautiful body – tall, muscular, athletic, smooth skin – he said he worked out a lot and it showed. OK, Rob got down on his knees and I made him lick my boots, caress my thighs, really breath in the rich earthy aroma of the leather. Then I cracked the whip again and ordered him to the bed. There I tied him spread-eagle — I really got rough jerking and binding his arms and legs — and put a latex mask over his face, then commenced to give him the best blow job he ever had. God, he got big fast! All hard and pretty. He begged me to go on, but I didn't. Instead, just before he came, I removed my mouth from his engorged member and stood back. He wiggled and bucked wildly on the bed, crying out for me to give him some release. No way! Not yet at least. I laughed at him, at his pathetic weakness, at his valiant struggles in the throes of unquenched lust. Totally helpless, he continued to wiggle that delicious body, his penis throbbing and dancing as if begging, "Please let me jack off!" He whined and moaned and screamed, "AHHH, VEDA!...GOD WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO ME...UMMM...OOOOH...DAMMIT BITCH! LET ME COME!"

OK, so I walked back to the bed, cracked the whip across his chest, enjoying the charge it gave me to listen to him whine and whimper in pain. I straddled him, clamped my thighs tightly around his, then guided his still swollen member into my vagina. I pumped him hard, savagely, painfully, until he hollered with pleasure. His body bucked under me, letting me work his penis up inside my swollen walls. He stroked me good, better than the other times. Rob kept saying over and over, "I won't leave you, Veda. You give me what I want."
Yeah, I'll give you what you want all right. Now, let me give you the fucking of your goddam life! Harder and harder I pumped and humped on his surging penis. The thought of what I planned to do after this no holds barred night of kinky sex sent me into a never-ending spiral of intense orgasm. The more I thought of bringing Rob down, the harder I pumped, making me scream with unbridled pleasure. God it was so good, so fantastically wild and wonderful. Rob bellowed his satisfaction as he bucked wildly under my relentless pounding. His face encased in that rubber mask, Rob struggled for breath, wheezing and gasping as he exploded inside me. His precious seed spewed forth like violently shaken champagne. I thought he'd never empty himself!

"Thanks, Veda," he said finally while I untied him. He wanted to cuddle but I wasn't in the mood. I just said as I sat on the bed reading a magazine, "Get yourself cleaned up and out of here within the hour. I have guests coming over."

******

O how the mighty have fallen! I turned on the TV a few days after Rob and I parted the ways. Not that I was shocked or concerned about what happened. You see, after we split up, I bided my time, then emailed those videos and photos of Rob and I doing the hot nasties. I definitely included the "Rob all tied up" video, showing him in all his glory. Now, I'm not stupid. When I sent those pics, I used a phony name to get one of those free web-based email accounts. When the news hit the fan, I hightailed it out of town. No way was Rob or his daddy or wifey going to pin all this on me. Hey, I was just there minding my own business. It was Rob who came on to me. It was Rob who bedded me, who in actuality is a closet masochist. It was all Rob's fault. I never "led him on", as his daddy claimed when reporters confronted Rob and his family with this mysteriously appearing evidence. Those pictures could've been doctored to make Rob look bad, daddy dearest insisted. It was all the work of his evil left-leaning opponent.

 That "godless, left-wing liberal" had no idea Rob was "like that", but her campaign staff and supporters made the most of it. There she was on TV calling that her worthy opponent a liar and hypocrite. Naturally the voters would have the final say. But Rob, not wanting anymore embarrassment (and Rob was THE hot topic with the local standup comics, not to mention the alternative press). he called a press conference to inform the people that he was withdrawing from the race. His party will have to find another candidate. And what was his Daddy Dearest's reaction? I don't know for sure, but I did later learn that Rob and his wife eventually divorced with Mom getting full custody of the kids. And someone at his kids' high school got hold of those pictures and video clips, and had the nerve (or courage) to email them to his friends. Like wildfire, nearly every kid in town – and across the country – downloaded those hot nasty XXX photos. The video clip was viewed hundreds of times. Rob's kids became the butt of all kinds of rude jokes and ridicule. So what? Rob brought this on himself.

Oh yeah...Rob paid me handsomely to leave town and forget we ever met. Deep down he knew it was I who tipped the press, but, being a man who didn't relish losing more face, he said he wouldn't reveal my role in the scandal. Bye, bye Rob, and thanks for the swell times — and the windfall.

******

I just settled in a nice BIG city, no more small or medium towns for me 'cause there're just  too many nosy folks who don't mind their own business. Thank goodness no one knows me here. I landed a hostess job at a swanky, very expensive restaurant, and found a nice, if kind of cramped apartment not far from the job. At least, for this gig, I can dress sexy but restrained. After hours it's anything goes. See, I haven't changed.

OK, a few days go by and I haven't had any sex. I was really getting agitated and itched for new conquests. Besides, so many nights and days with the vibrator inside isn't the same as a guy's big hard cock. Ah, the perfect setting, this hoity-toity restaurant. Most men who were regular patrons were the big corporate, Wall Street types who power lunched in the day then brought their wives or mistresses at night. None of those guys really turned me on. Maybe they didn't have "I'm a stupid oaf who's looking to get laid" written all over them. But I kept hunting, kept smiling and flirting with nearly every guy, young and old, who had the pleasure of being seated by yours truly.
One late afternoon, after the usual power crowd thinned out, I think it was around two, a party of several ladies and a sprinkling of men lingered leisurely over dessert. They had just come from the museum and I later learned that these folks were out-of-town visitors. OK, so they're tourists taking in the sights. Didn't bother me, as long as they tipped well. One guy in the group got up, came to my desk in the reception area and asked, "Where are your restrooms?"
I never looked up from my computer; I was too busy entering future reservations. "Turn to your left then it's the first door on the right."
"Thanks. Uh...you're new here, are you?"
"Yes, I stared a few days ago."
"Oh, OK."

When he returned, the rest of his party finally prepared to leave. Did I hear one of the older ladies call out, "Todd, are you coming?" He replied as the group exited, "In a moment, Aunt Pauline." He lingered at my desk, eyeing me up and down. OK, so I quit what I was doing and looked up. Oh my God, I almost fell out the chair when I finally saw the dreamiest man I've ever laid eyes on. He was drop dead gorgeous with his thick glossy black hair, deep grey eyes, and finely chiseled classical features. OK, so is he a male model or is he gay?

"Um..what is your name?"
"Veda."
"That's very pretty, and so are you. I'm Todd."
"So I heard your aunt call you."
"Well, may I call on you someday?"
"Perhaps."
"Hmm, if you're interested, here's my card."

He handed over one of those snazzy business cards that had his cell phone number and email address. Why was he giving me this? Men don't hunt me; that's my department! My relief came on duty as I ended my shift, and Todd had just exited.

She said, "Hey, Veda, that guy who just give you his card. Don't you know who he is?"
"Why should I?"
"Todd Maguire, the fastest rising star in the restaurant business. This is one of his places. He owns all kinds of stuff in three states – cafes, expensive joints like this, snack bars, convenience stores...You name it he probably owns it."
"So he's loaded."
"Big time loaded."

Hmmm...I feel the seventh hunt coming on. Oh Todd? How could you be so stupid to give me your card? Before clocking out, I got on the computer, logged into my email, then typed out a torrid yet tasteful message...

TO BE CONTINUED....Go to Part 3!

Copyright©2004 by Pepper Shriver*
My pen name :-)


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