Clean up

Mr. Crassle hands you the rag from the rear of his car. You take it and wipe as much cum as you can from your face. Mr. Crassle just stands there, grinning from ear to ear and admiring the view.

You stand up and look at yourself in the car's side-mirror. Dried cum in your hair and on your breasts, makeup ruined, marks on your legs from kneeling the grass...no, this won't work.

"I'm in no condition to go back to the party looking like this," you say, turning to look at your bare ass in the mirror.

"Why don't I take you home, honey," Mr. Crassle suggests and pulls on his pants.

"Ok," you reply and get back into his car.

You engage in idle conversation. You talk about your friends and parties, Crassle talks about business deals that fly over your head and how rich he is. You give him directions and eventually pull up outside your house. You pull the coat around your body, although you can't find your underwear. You leave them for Mr. Crassle.

"Call me some time," you say with a smile and give the old man a kiss on his cheek. You hop out of the car before he can react, but not fast enough. He gives you a slap on your rear and smiles. You wink back at him and watch him depart. You make your way back into house wondering what Sara Cleft was talking about since Mr. Crassle is a nice guy.

The following days are uneventful. You visit Sara about once a week, just stop in and say hello and usually end up bending her over the kitchen counter and licking her sweet pussy or sharing her new double-sided dildo up in the bedroom.

It isn't until more than two weeks later that you receive a mysterious magazine at the house. It is wrapped up so you can't see the title. You close the door after receiving the parcel and open the card.

"Just thought you might like to see the results," it reads and is signed "C". There is a phone number on the back. For a moment you can't think who "C" might be until Mr. Crassle comes to mind again. You get very flushed thinking about him as you recall the hot fucking in the back of his car.

"Hey," says your stepdad as he walks past you in the hall outside your bedroom. You can feel his eye on your short denim shorts and white t-shirt. He looks at the wrapped magazine.

"Oh, just a package from Cindy," you cover quickly.

Your stepdad just nods and continues about his business. You walk into your bedroom and close the door behind you with a relieved sigh. You sit on your bed and open the package.

It is a magazine, the title saying 'Hot Co-ed Sluts!'.

The front page has the picture of you in the car, your face still covered with cum and holding your pussy lips open with cum dripping out. You gasp and read the front print.

"See spunky amateur Sammy take a load of hot cum in this week's centerfold."

You suddenly feel very light headed. You open the magazine and flick to the centerfold and see all othe other pictures of the night. There you are squatting as the cum runs out of your pussy. There you are rubbing Mr. Crassle's load into your big tits. And for the centerfold it is you licking Mr. Crassle's white spunk off your lips. There is a small box full of text in the corner of the page.

"Name: Sammy, Age: 18, Status: Single, Turn ons: Being covered in cum, old men, group sex, Turn offs: condoms."

You drop the magazine to the floor and try to catch your breath. That old man sold your pictures to a porno magazine!

You stare horrified at the pictorial before you remeber the number on the back of the card.

You grab the phone and call the number. It rangs for a few seconds before you hear Mr Crassle answer. "Hello, this is Crassle."

"You son of a bitch, those pictures were private! I didn't think you would sell them!" you growl over the phone.

"Oh Joy, how is my little cum muffin?" he asks. "I take it you saw the pictures. They turned out very well I think."

Your eyes drift to the magainze.

"How dare you sell those pictures?" you growl again.

"Hey honey, don't get all nasty to me, all the pictures show you enjoying yourself and the fact that you were at that party means you gave constent to whatever happend there."

You sit back on your bed again, at a loss for words.

"Don't get upset, honey. I changed your name. But you will not belive the sales we had of that issue. Oh didn't you know I own part of the magazine company that produces the magazine. I think I told you I own partial stake in a magazine when I was driving you home. The amount of feedback we got wanting to see you again, some wanting you covered in cum, others wanting to see you doing other men, some wanting you in gang bangs...it's amazin."

You can feel your face becoming flushed with the ideas that Mr. Crassle is floating.

"Quite a few of them want to see you again with cum coming from your pussy as well as you doing alot of old men apparently for some reason," continues Mr Crassle.

"What makes you think I would even consider any of that?" you hiss.

"Well ... Joy Applebottem, living at 678 Terrace road, who just finished high school, who has a Stepfather called Bert, and mother who isn't home often," says Mr Crassle. "I can see in our records that Bert enjoys subscriptions to several of our other magazines, but not this one. Suppose one was accidentally shipped to him...."

"What do you want?" you demand.

"Come to the studio today or tomorrow, let me do another shoot and I'll make it worth your while," says Mr Crassle.

Your mind races with whats been proposed to you. After the party you have had that 'itch' you couldnt scratch, but the thought of what Mr Crassle did withouth your permission ... but still ....