“You’re a fuck head!”
“You’re a fuck head!”
A tornado of aggressive profanities instantly sucked the attention of everyone in the area. All eyes and ears were instantly yanked in the direction of where the volley of vulgarities were suddenly being launched in the yard.
“Fuck you in the fuck head!"
“Fuck you, fuck head!”
The verbal duelists were both three years old.
Within five seconds, Anya had bolted from across the other side of the playground, leapt across the sandbox in one Olympic stride, and inserted herself between the two offending toddlers. Shock and panic painted her face.
“Brandon! Essai!” she exclaimed. “That’s enough!”
“Fuck head!”
“You’re a fuck head!”
They were both giggling as they hurled the barbed language at one another.
“They’re fuck heads,” a little girl standing aside in her icing-blue dress with a rainbow-haired pony on the front said softly, her voice sounding as if she had inhaled helium.
Anya glared at her. “Shay!” Immediately, she shook her head in dismay and held her breath, waiting for it. She knew she was already too late.
"Fuck heads! Fuck heads!" chimed a chorus of little daycare prisoners with sing-song glee. It was a bewildering confluence of innocence and vulgarity. They may as well have been chanting for ice cream as they gathered around Anya and the two boys. Yet, it would be also easy to picture all of them with little metal mugs, rattling them back and forth across the dandelion-decorated picket fence surrounding the daycare center’s playground, a rug rat riot in the making.
Anya sighed and looked up to the blue sky in a vain escape this demented Munchkin Land as the other center attendants ran over to break up and quell the mob of teeny inmates. It still amazed her how quickly things could devolve into chaos when little kids were involved.
"Welcome to the daycare of hard knocks," joked a colleague who had two kids in tow, leading them to the center.
"Fuck head," a cheerful red-headed pixie giggled as she pointed at Anya. She told herself that the child intended it to mean “pretty”.
Anya closed her eyes and counted to ten slowly as she adjusted her smock, skirt and hair, before hauling herself back into the daycare center.
Max stood in the center’s hallway observing Devi from behind. The oblivious preschooler was too busy to notice him. With an ungainly grip on a Grape-purple marker in his puny fist, Devi dragged its tip crookedly along the off-white walls.
Arms crossed, eyes narrowed, Max smirked and said, “Your ‘K’ is backwards.”
Devi turned around and looked all the way up at Max with his elfin-like, big, brown eyes. He appeared completely nonplussed, not unlike a raccoon climbing out of a garbage can.
Max sighed and crouched down beside the boy. He took the marker and fixed the ‘K’ in Devi’s scrawl: “C-O-C-K”.
“There you go,” he said.
“Uh… what the heck?”
Max cocked his brow aside and noted a pair of grown up legs standing beside him. He looked up at Anya, also standing with her arms crossed. Her attention was clearly not on the smaller vandal, but the full-sized one. He squinted at her and asked, “Did you just say ‘heck’?”
“Yes. What the heck…” she paused and tilted her head a couple of time towards the oblivious little boy without looking at him, “... are you doing?”
Max shrugged and patted Devi on the head. “Teaching our pal here how to spell.”
Anya’s slung mouth dropped another centimeter. She blinked and scolded, “You’re not supposed to teach him words like that.”
Her incredulity still hanging above him, Max chuckled and added “a doodle do” to the original graffiti.
“Max!” Anya gasped.
Ignoring her, he regarded Devi and asked, “What does a rooster say?”
“Cocky doo doo doo,” the boy mumbled.
“Close enough,” Max said. He stood and grinned at Anya. “See? What exactly were you thinking? Just where is your mind at? Dirty, dirty.”
Anya speared him with her blistering blue eyes. If he didn’t have such an impeccable face of a handsome rascal, she would have raked it with her fingernails. Instead, she turned towards Devi still looking up at the both of them, a silent witness with a bit of drool at the edge of his slack pink lips.
“Devi,” she said with remarkable calm, “go into the romper room with the others.”
The two adults watched the boy shuffle into one of the rooms leaving them alone in the hallway.
Max nudged her arm. “You want to banish me to the romper room… please?”
“You! I thought you were studying to become a teacher?" Anya admonished through gritted teeth, trying to keep her voice down as she poked him in the chest, “What lesson plan includes writing on the walls in front of little kids?”
“Devi was already on the second ‘C’ when I found him.” He shrugged. “Would’ve had to get the scrubber and cleanser out anyway. What’s the difference if it's four letters, or ten or twelve?”
“But you’re encouraging bad words to a toddler.”
“Oh, heck, Anya,” he interrupted, “What the heck is the problem? Heck, these kids see, hear and say enough dirty words to prepare them for the army. They swear more than I do when I’m drunk. Sure as heck more than you do, apparently.”
She smacked him sharply on the butt.
“We’re supposed to be setting examples for them!” Anya noted, side-stepping his baiting that she had a noticeable disinclination for swearing. “Besides, they don’t know what they’re saying.”
Max grinned, rubbing his bottom, relishing the sting. He taunted, “Do you know what the words mean?”
Anya eyed him. “Do you know what ‘break our date tonight’ means?”
He nodded curtly. “Got’cha,” he said, then tucked his lips in for good measure, full stop.
Shaking her head and sighing, she stepped aside and walked by him, moving the cascading length of her straw-blonde ponytail from the front to the back where it hung below the hip of her denim skirt.
Max took a moment to admire her backside as he watched her go, envying the way her hair swished against her smooth, round butt. “Hey, Anya."
“What?”
“You look sexy as heck in that smock,” he replied with a sharp grin. He was referring to the checkered apron she and all the other attendants had to wear.
She smirked at him. “You need to wash yours… and your dirty mind.”
As she entered the romper room, out of view of Max's appreciative gaze, she allowed herself a blushing grin. Despite herself, comments like that from him made her noticeably giddy. She thought, “I make this smock look sexy.”
Anya carried two duffel bags full of linens from the nap room into the main activity space, the romper room. She huffed from her mouth to blow aside some strands of her hair that had fallen across her face as well as to expel the frustrations of the day. To be honest, though, any day that ended with not a single pee-stained sheet was a pretty good one.
Dropping the bags on one of the short craft tables, she accidentally knocked over a small plastic chair. As she picked it up, she noted a barely legible word scribbled on the seat in purple marker: “F-U-C-K”. Her jaw shifted to the right as she stared at the offending scrawl. It was like her entire day had come back to taunt her.
“Well, at least he didn’t write the ‘K’ backwards,” she muttered.
“Who didn’t write what backwards?” Max asked standing behind her at the door to the room.
Turning, she glared at him for a second then held up the chair to show him the seat.
He stifled a chuckle, then said as he scratched at the back of his ear, “Devi's a pretty fast learner.”
“Why does it have to be this word?” Anya asked exasperated. “What’s with their obsession with dirty words like this? Whatever happened to ‘poopy face’ and ‘farty pants’?”
“I think it’s ‘poopy pants’ and ‘farty face’,” Max corrected.
“Alliteration,” Anya sighed. She motioned shooting herself in the head with her finger. “I can’t even get mild language right.”
“Gotta start slow, work your way up,” he said with a cheeky wink. “Don’t worry, we’ll get you speaking big people words soon.”
“Oh, yeah?” she asked, folding her arms. “Who’s ‘we’?”
“I’ll work on you… or we can ask Devi to assist.”
"Yeah, right," she sniffed. Disregarding the mention of the little boy, Anya noticed a slight, impish look in Max’s attractive green eyes as he spoke. The thought of Max 'working on her' had been creeping into the back of her mind for a while now.
She looked away, pushing down her niggling urges.
“Well,” Max declared, “the last kid has been picked up and the place is locked up. Hallelujah.”
He removed and hung up his smock and took off his sweatshirt revealing a plain, white t-shirt underneath. Despite the summer heat, he had been asked to wear long sleeve shirts to hide the large tattoo on his arm, so he always felt no small relief to discard them as soon as the center was closed.
Anya tilted her head as she whimsically observed the flat, steel-plating he called an abdomen revealed as he raised his sweatshirt up. The guy also nailed the boyish rebel look in a basic tee and jeans.
“Ready for some fun?” he asked, readjusting his t-shirt over his stomach.
“Hmm?” Anya replied, blinking mindlessly.
“Our date?”
She shook herself out of her momentary stupor. “After we clean up.”
She and Max were on the afterhours shift which meant clean up duties. Being the last two in the building also made it easier to head straight out on their date right after they were done without any of their co-workers knowing.
They were still in ‘discrete’ mode, only two dates into their relationship. Both of them were wondering how much longer they would be able to hide that fact, though. They were getting pretty handsy the last couple of weeks, and even their attempts at snippy banter could be interpreted as flirtation.
“I’m on linens. You’re on wipe down duties,” Anya directed.
“Yay, wipe down,” Max droned. Wipe down essentially involved cleaning all the crayon and marker scribbles off of things.
“You deserve it after today.”
Max grinned crookedly. “Ooh, I like when you’re bossy and give orders.”
She angled her brow at him. “Well, you’re the only one who seems to listen.”
“I’ll get the scrubber and the brush,” he said, putting his smock back on.
“You can start with the c-word in the hallway then this one.” She pointed towards the chair.
Max chuckled under breath and shook his head as he tied the back of his smock.
“What are you sniggering about?” Anya asked, eyeing him suspiciously.
“The kids are gone. The place is locked, We’re alone,” Max said waving his around. “You still can’t say ‘cock’ and ‘fuck’?”
She frowned at him. “Shh!”
Anya’s glossy lips were still puckered in mid ‘shh’ as she froze and held his gaze for a second. Then her body shook as she broke down in a self-conscious giggle. She tilted her head down, burying her eyes in the palm of her hand.
Max burst out laughing. “Did you just ‘shh’ me?”
“I’m in nun-mode,” she muttered, still covering her eyes.
“Um, we’re in a daycare, not a church.”
“I know.”
“And we’re still alone.”
“I know!”
“They broke you!”
“The more they swear, the more I’m determined not to!” she exclaimed. “I don’t know how to turn it off!”
“You need a dirty word intervention.” He smiled and a tiny star-shaped glint appeared in his eye. It always appeared when he was thinking up mischief.
“Ha, ha.”
“You know, honestly, Anya,” Max said, “I don’t think I’ve heard you swear that much at all even when we’re outside of work.”
She offered a sheepish shrug of her shoulders. “I swear… sometimes.”
Actually it was true. She was no prude; she just didn’t swear that much. She had to be utterly shocked and exasperated to do so, and even then the words kind of got caught along the way up her throat. Seemed like such a waste of breath.
“Swearing is healthy,” Max said.
“Right,” she replied skeptically, “Thanks, doc. I’ll take two eff-words and call you in the morning.”
He laughed again. “See? Still can’t say ‘fuck’.”
Anya sighed and shook her head. “You sound like the kids, obsessed with dirty words.”
“It can be fun. Stress-relieving,” he said, affecting a devilish lilt in house voice. “Even sexy.”
“‘Sexy’.” She smirked at him again and mocked, “You mean like the filth they moan in porn movies?”
Max leaned back in mock shock. “You’ve seen porn movies?”
Anya picked up a stuffed bear and thumped him with it. “I’ve seen porn movies, jerk! I bet you really go for the sort of stuff they say, right? Turns you on?”
He easily swatted aside the assault bear, chuckling, “Go for what stuff?”
“Like, ‘Ooh, baby! Eff-me! Eff-me hard in my hoo-hah with your big thingy’,” she cooed in a dripping, sex doll voice. She flipped her hair, and then with her hands on her hips, she mimed something that barely resembled a twerk. “‘Eff-me in the bum! Ooh, like that! Your thingy is so big. Eff-me, baby. Eff-me bad!”
“‘Thingy’?” Max’s expression twisted as if he was watching a couple of Care Bears committing fellatio. It was hilarious, but he felt strangely turned on and guilty for doing so at the same time by Anya’s attempt to mangle pornographic dialogue to fit into a G-rated box.
Anya poked him in the ribs. She was enjoying this more than she thought she would, too. “Eff-me! Eff-me hard, baby!”
“Okay, that’s it,” he exclaimed, grabbing her by the wrist, “time for that intervention.”
Anya followed along giggling just like the red-haired girl earlier in the day as Max led her to the story time mat. It was a rubber patchwork of pictures from nursery rhymes and fairytales.
“Sit,” he commanded, pointing at the floor.
“You’re going to tell me a story?” she asked, offering a silly grin.
Max put his hands on her shoulders and stared Anya in the eyes for a moment.
“Uh, I believe this is what we call ‘bad touch’?” she noted.
“Down, girl.” He pushed her down till she was seated cross-legged on the mat.
“You know, I kind of like it when you’re bossy and forceful,” she said with a wiggle of her shoulders. “Give me more orders.”
Max paused again as he regarded her looking up at him with her wide, attentive eyes. “Alright, let’s focus,” he said to her and maybe to himself.
He grabbed a bucket of plastic magnetic letters and rummaged through it. Then he started applying letters to a whiteboard easel.
“Okay,” he said pointing to the word he just spelled out, “what does that say?”
“‘Heel’,” Anya said with a decisive nod.
Max smirked then tapped the board. “Only one ‘E’ and two ‘L’s’ there, sweet cheeks.”
“Oh.” Maintaining the dopey shtick, she held her chin and batted her dark eyelashes innocently. “‘Hell’?”
He gave her a thumbs up. “Good! See? Was that so bad?”
Anya chuckled, feeling increasingly relaxed and loose as they proceeded with their goofiness. “Hmm. Very complicated. Don’t go all PhD on me. You may need to slow down.”
Max removed the letters, picked a few more and then spelled another word.
Anya took a deliberate moment then slurred very slowly, “Shhh-iiit.”
“That is correct,” Max said. “Looks like Devi has some competition after all.”
He arranged another word.
"'Sss-uck'," she said, not anticipating how her drawn out pronunciation and breathy emphasis on ‘-uck’ would impact Max.
He shuddered inwardly, but kept going.
Anya passed ‘tits’, 'ass', and ‘anal’ with flying colours. With the following word, though, she paused and asked, “Are we spelling things phonetically, now?”
“It’s not like ‘come’ as in ‘come here’.”
“No? Can you use it in a phrase? I’m so confused,” she said, trying very hard not to break out laughing again. She was really enjoying being deliberately dim, making Max work for it.
He eyed her. Alright, so she wanted to play that way. He cocked his brow and curled the edge of his lip with a sneer and said, “I want to shoot my cum all over your ass and tits.”
Caught off guard by his flagrant filth, Anya’s mouth slipped ajar. She had to gulp back the lump that had suddenly swelled in her throat, but she managed to compose herself enough to ask, “So… it's like bullets?”
Max shrugged. “Sometimes it comes out just as hot and fast.”
She looked away shaking her head, smiling to herself. This guy was just relentlessly cheeky. She liked it.
For the next word, Anya responded with noticeable enthusiasm, “‘Pussy’!”
“Perfect.”
Anya nodded. “I like pussy.”
Max paused.
“Cats,” she added. “Pussy cats.”
His heart started again. “Cool.”
She clapped her hands and beckoned him onward. “More! A hard one!”
Max was already stirring through the bucket, but paused and looked at her with a leery eye and a mischievous grin. “‘A hard one’?” he asked.
“Yeah. Give me a hard one.”
“Okay,” he said, shrugging. Then he nodded with an idea.
Anya rocked back and forth in her seat like a toddler as she watched him place letters on the board. After three letters, she rolled her eyes and sighed knowingly.
Continuing to search through the bucket of letters, Max mumbled to himself, “Where did I put it…?”
“Your cock?”
Max frowned and looked at her. “What?”
Nodding towards the board, she repeated, “You lost your cock?”
He tilted his head and smirked as he held up a letter ‘K’. “I was looking for this.”
“Ah, for a moment there I thought maybe you didn't have… “
Max firmly applied the ‘K’. “I have one,” he declared, tapping the board with his finger.
“It’s backwards.”
“Hmm?” He looked back at the board and quickly turned the ‘K’ right side up.
“Looks like you and Devi have a lot in common other than just having the mind of a three-year-old.”
Max cleared his throat and resumed his cool, cocky look towards Anya. “I thought you wanted a hard one?”
“Still waiting,” she teased while tilting her chin toward her shoulder and eyeing him. Immediately, she gave her bottom lip an anxious chew, as she felt the blood pulse up her neck. She was really getting caught up in the moment.
A sheen of seriousness spread across Max’s handsome face momentarily. Anya's brashness had caught him off guard, but he wasn't going to complain. He nodded as he once more scavenged the letters.
“Okay,” he said, “let’s move on to the big one.”
“Um, we’re still talking about cock?”
“You like that one, huh?”
Anya looked up and away, pressing her tongue inside against her cheek. Yes. Yes, she did.
Max took his time to place the letters on the board, lining them up with meticulous precision. Anya waited patiently, her rows of teeth shifting side to side behind her lips.
Placing the bucket down on the mat, Max stood aside silently looking down at her over his sharp nose.
Anya looked back and forth at the word and then at him. "Think I'll need a little help with this one, pretty please."
“Watch me,” he said, then he pinched his bottom lip with his teeth, pointing to it with his finger. “Fff-”
Anya did the same. “Fff-”
“...uhhh…” Max led.
“...uhhh…” she followed, her mouth widening.
“...uhk!”
“...uhk!”
“Fuck,” Max said.
Anya angled a brow and held her mouth open long enough for him to have a good look at her pink, moist tongue before repeating, “Fuck.”
"Yeah, fuck,” he said, mimicking her suggestive expression.
"Mmm. Fuck,” she mused, nodding.
“Fuck.”
“Fuck.”
They repeated the word together a few times like a strange incarnation. It seemed to conjure a similar, magical effect as they gazed at each other.
Anya blinked and shook her head dismissively. “Still confused. Could you use it in a phrase for context?”
Max paused to show her his teeth as he smiled. Then he said with intent, “I want to fuck you.”
Anya pursed her lips, instantly feeling her heart thud against her chest. She nodded and squinted at him. “I believe it’s something you want to do to me. Anything else?”
Slowly crouching down, trying to keep his own heart rate calm, Max added, “I want to fuck you... hard.”
“Mm-hmm. Sounds kind of rough, but still a bit hazy."
“I want to thrust my cock into you and fuck your pussy, fuck your tight little ass,” he said, already picturing the images in his mind.
Anya gulped again, nodding slowly. “Good. That’s good. Use all the filthy words.”
He went on as he crouched down to the balls of his feet, levelling his gaze with hers. “I want to fuck your mouth with my thick cock and fill your throat with my hot cum.”
“Uhh… that’s fairly… explicit.” Her whole face twitched as she blinked and sucked on her lips to moisten them.
He rolled forward onto his knees and reached his hand out. He stroked a few strands of her long, soft hair, then touched her cheek and chin. As he watched as her mouth slipped open while he thumbed below her plush, lower lip, he could feel and hear her unsteady breaths. His internal temperature went up a few ticks.
“I think I understand,” she said.
A not so subtle kick of adrenalin charged her from within as she watched him, his focused gaze hammering down on her. The intoxication from their silly antics of the last few minutes swelled into a sudden, unexpected burst of desire.
“You get it?” Max paused, watching his thumb slip past her glossy lips. “Want to give it a try yourself? Use it in a sentence?”
Anya gave his digit a soft lick and gentle suck as he slowly pulled it out, a subtle gasp aching from her throat. She fixed him with her steady, blue eyes, clenched her teeth and curled her lips sharply at the edges. "I want you to fuck me with your hard cock... now."
Max felt an electric rush through his fingers and loins. “Yeah?”
“You want me to spell it out for you?”
“Well… fuck,” he said softly, his face drawing nearer to hers.
Anya nodded, still dragging her lower lip and tip of her tongue against his thumb. “Fuck.”
"Not so hard, is it?" he said, leaning into her, drawn to her heat and tempting gaze.
Anya’s chest rose and fell with heavy breaths. She swallowed, then replied, "It'd better be."
He grinned. Yes. Yes, it was.
They kissed, Max dragging his lips upwards against hers once, twice, before folding them over mouth. Anya joined him on her knees, holding his face the same way he held hers, stroking her lips against his, running the tip of her tongue along them. A satisfying hum trilled from her throat each time she kissed him.
“Mmm. You know we’re on a kiddie mat,” she gasped.
“Mm-hmm. That a problem?”
“Just never thought our first time would be on a kiddie mat.”
“It’s alright. It’s soft.” Max suckled her neck. “It’s clean…”
“Mmm… don’t think it’s so clean.” Nothing involving kids was completely clean in a hygienic sense.
“Nice cushioning. Durable.”
“A little weird with the Three Little Pigs watching us,” Anya noted, nipping and sucking on the lobe of his ear.
Max leaned back and removed his smock and his shirt and laid them over the peeping swine. “Better?”
“Mm-hmm. The Big Bad Wolf can stay right here, though.” She grinned taking in the rest of Max’s ripe, cut figure. As she pulled strands of hair behind ear, she traced the curves and lines of his muscles along his round shoulder and down his arm with her other hand. She circled the tips of her fingers admiringly around his ornate tattoo.
“Show me your big teeth, ‘Grandma’,” Anya insisted.
They clutched at each other in a tight embrace. Their tongues stabbed and wrestled against one another as they shifted their heads left and right, angling for a deeper kiss. She pressed her body against his hard chest and abdomen as he reached around and undid the lower knot of her smock. She enjoyed the caress of his warm hands as they slid up the flesh of her back underneath her t-shirt. With a nifty touch of his fingers, her bra clasp came apart with a crisp ‘snap’.
Max leaned back as Anya pleasured his skin with soft kisses on his neck, moving down to his bare shoulders and chest. He sucked air through his teeth as she circled his nipples with her tongue. His crotch nudged forward with a slow and steady thrust against the palm of her hand as it pressed against him.
A voraciousness seized Anya. Maybe it was the illicitness of the setting, their workplace… a daycare for God’s sake. Here amongst the cloying and bright colours, an audience of watchful toys and stuffies, and the secure warmth of a place for the innocent, diving headlong into act of carnality provided an unexpectedly heady rush. To think that it turned her on was mildly intriguing.
There was little time to ponder that thought as a hungry urgency set it in. As she rubbed her palm and fingers steadily, a pronounced outline of something very long and hard bulged and swelled from within Max’s jeans. She raised her eyes as she continued to stroke him and asked, “This is why they call you ‘Max’?”
“Maybe,” he said, breathing hard. “Or maybe it’s more like ‘no max’.”
“‘No max’?” she said, still looking him in the eyes as she daintily unsnapped the button of his jeans.
“As in ‘no maximum’,” he replied, watching her ease his fly down, “As in never enough.”
“Oh, really?” Anya mused.
As she parted his fly and pulled down the waistband of his underwear, a lengthy shaft of muscle jutted out and fell against the palm of her hand. She circled her fingers around it, noting immediately how her index finger and thumb weren’t even close to touching. It felt heavy and hard in her soft hand as she continued to stroke him. A spasm of anticipation hit her deep within.
“My, what a big cock you have, ‘Grandma’,” she giggled, emphasizing ‘cock’. She really did like saying that word.
“Do you really need me to tell you what it’s all the better for?” Max chuckled.
“Show, don’t tell.”
While they resumed their supple kissing, she continued to pump her hand rhythmically on his shaft, holding it close to her. She curved her fingers around his thick tip, then slid her palm down his shaft, ending by cupping his malleable ball sack before repeating the pleasurable strokes up and down. His cock stiffened and throbbed against her soft palm.
Max’s hand, feeling left out, lifted up her skirt. His palm slid against her silky inner thighs and zeroed in on her crotch. His fingers quickly went to work stroking deep through the line of her panties, drawing a damp warmth against his touch. Before long, he hooked the front of her panties aside, running a stiff finger through her tender mound and teasing her clit with a brisk but tender rub. He slipped his finger into her, probing and hooking it within, gently, steadily.
They continued to twist their tongues and meld their mouths together as they stroked and probed one another down below. Anya broke away with a loud gasp and, with her mouth still wide, quickly bowed down to his crotch and wrapped her lips around the tip of his cock. She shimmied her body lower to the mat, taking more of him in.
Max breathed deeply and steadily, still kneeling in front of her. He brushed his fingers through her long, soft hair, admiring the motion of her back as Anya continued to suck him rhythmically. He crawled his finger down her spine as he reached his long arm forward. He cinched up the back of her skirt, lifting it over her hips, exposing her smooth, alabaster bottom. He massaged her round ass for a moment, digging his fingers into the supple flesh.
A stiff slap of his hand on her butt drew a breathy yelp from Anya, “Uh, fuck…”
Max slipped his hand under her panties and rand his fingers through her crack. He circled and fingered her tight, puckered hole eliciting more appreciative hums from her as she continued to fill her mouth with his hard muscle.
Anya gasped at his touch with his tip against the edge of her lips, before covering his length again with zealous lashes of her tongue. Finally, she raised herself up, planted a wet kiss on his lips, then ordered, “Lie back down.”
Max really liked when she gave orders.
With his back against the mat, Anya turned around and straddled her crotch over his face.
“You’re on wipe down duties,” she reminded him.
“You’re really into checker patterns, aren’t you?” he asked, noting that her panties had a similar pattern as her smock.
“Get to work,” she said, and spread her knees, lowering her quivering pussy towards his mouth.
Once again, Max obligingly hooked aside the front of her panties. He blanketed his tongue upon her petals, nuzzling his nose against her. Within moments, he was licking and probing her with a sumptuous mix of quick flicks and long, drawn out caresses. He nipped at her clit, trapping her hood between his lips and teasing it with the tip of his tongue. Soon her pulsing pussy was slathered with his glossy spit.
Anya breathed hard as she shoved his pants and underwear further down his legs. His cock stood erect like a flag staff and she grasped it firmly. Quickly she resumed her feverish sampling. Twisting her palm down the length of his shaft, she drove her mouth over it repeatedly, his smooth tip dragging against her pallet and butting her throat.
For the next few minutes, the room was filled with the sounds of slurps, sucks, and a plethora of satisfied humming and groaning as they spent what should have been clean up time at the daycare making a mess of themselves with spit and sweat.
As Max’s nimble tongue swept around her tender snatch and his stiff fingers delved deeper, Anya felt a knot tighten in her stomach. Her hips and legs began to buckle and tremble, knees sliding outward, thrusting her crotch against Max’s face. She groaned languidly, her mouth still engorged with his shaft, before lifting her head. A dollop of saliva spilled from her chin onto his tip as she pinched her lower lip with her teeth and sucked in air sharply. Eyes shut tight, her entire body shook as she burst with a pronounced moan, “Ohh... Fuck!”
Max felt her cum in a rush against his face and over his fingers. Wetness slicked onto his lips and tongue and ran down his chin and side of his mouth. He cinched her butt with his other hand, holding her trembling body firmly as he took in all she had, circling his tongue around like a mop.
Anya gasped as the spasmodic twitching of her hips subsided. With the shaft of his cock in her hand, she gave his tip a few more succulent licks before finally turning around. Straddling Max’s torso, she held his face and mashed her lips against his.
In between kisses, Max asked, “How good does it feel to swear in the throes of ecstasy?”
Anya sat up, smiling. “Need more practice, teacher,” she said, and reached back to untie her smock.
“Leave it on,” Max said.
She paused and frowned. “Really?”
Max paused, grinning sheepishly, surprised himself. “Uh, yeah."
“Max,” Anya grinned, “is this some weird kink?”
“Yeah, well, look where we are.”
Shrugging, she instead pulled her arms through her t-shirt and bra straps. “You don’t mind if I take these off, though? It’s kind of warm.”
He shook his head quickly as he watched her maneuver her shirt over her head without removing the smock. Then she quickly disposed of her plaid panties, as well. As she straddled herself upon his prone body, it honestly did shock him to realize how horny he felt seeing her in nothing but the daycare smock.
With one hand on his chest, Anya reached under and handled his now solid cock. She raised herself up, nuzzled his tip against her plush lips, then settled on him with a seductive wiggle of her hips. Her mouth rounded open as his tip pushed past her petals, his thick shaft pulling in the folds as it probed deeper into her.
“Oh my God,” Anya breathed, leaning forward and bracing her hands on Max’s broad shoulders. She curled her hips up and down, back and forth, shoving her crotch against him, feeling the stiff throb within her. She gasped sharply.
Max watched her, admiring the bright pink glow blooming along her cheeks, neck and bare shoulders as she rocked upon him, shifting his stiff shaft with her delectable grinding. He gripped his hands along her waist and held firm as he bucked his hips upward, matching her motions with sturdy thrusts.
“Ah! Ah, unn… fuck!” Anya breathed, tilting her head back. She pulled aside the front of her smock to massage her glistening breast and pinch her taut nipple.
“You like it? Like riding my cock, fucking you like this?” Max growled from below, seeding her newfound penchant for swearing.
Still gyrating upon him, she fell forward and pressed her warm cheek against his. “Mmm, yeah, fuck me hard,” she purred at his ear.
“You feel so fucking good, so hot.”
“Mmm… so fucking good,” Anya gasped through a pleased grin.
Max clenched the muscles along his abdomen, pulling himself up, his back peeling off the rubber mat leaving a sheen of shiny coat of sweat on the pictures of Snow White and Cinderella. He wrapped his arms around Anya as he sat up with her still riding him hard. Taking advantage of her exposed breast, he enveloped her pert nipple with his mouth, swirling his tongue around it as he suckled.
Anya clutched her arms around his back, burrowing her fingers through his hair, holding him against her chest. She bounced aggressively on his lap, spiking his shaft deeper within her tight, damp hole.
Minutes later, they moved into doggy position. Both of them really appreciated the cushion of the story mat, now. It would have been hell on their knees otherwise, and the rubber surface truly gave their increasingly rigorous clash of flesh some traction.
“Fuck! Oh, shit! Uhn!” The curses were just rolling out past Anya’s wide open mouth, imploring even more harsh thrusts from Max. It still felt a bit silly to swear like this, but there was also an undeniably liberating feeling about it as well.
Max’s lean body was glowing just like hers now, tightening muscles shining with perspiration. He wrapped his fist in her long hair --something he had dreamed of doing since he saw the cascade of silky gold-- pulling her head back as he rode her hard from behind. He threw his hips forward with zealous thrusts, the slap of his crotch against her butt reverberating throughout the room.
They completed the reversal of positions as Max rolled Anya over onto her back, knocking over the bucket of letters onto the mat. Kneeling, he braced one of her long legs upwards along his body and continued his incessant thrusts while kissing and licking her calves and ankle.
Anya, overheated as she was, had enough of the smock and pulled it off, tossing it aside. The young man didn’t seem to mind as his fingers seized the opportunity to hungrily grope and clutch at her glimmering breasts. She settled back, arms and hair splayed out as her body rocked back and forth against Max’s fervent thrusts.
“Oh, fuck! Yes!” More rampant swearing groaned past her lips as he grinded his crotch, arching her back and raising her hips off the floor. She was fulfilling at least a month’s quota for swearing during this single session. “God, your cock is so fucking hard! So fucking good! Uhn!”
They continued with their 'bad touch', turning the rubber flooring into more of a wrestling mat rather than one for story times while they grappled and tumbled over one another. They finally ended up in a desperate lock up, with Max on top and pressing over her. Anya was folded in half, knees bent over his arms, her fingers knotted together behind his neck -- a compact position to absorb the full potency of his undulating thrusts.
Their slick foreheads touching and eyes centimeters apart, they stared at each other with a blind lust while they traded hot breaths and spit from their gaping mouths. They both licked their lips repeatedly when they weren’t twisting their tongues together.
Max was in optimum position, driving his hips at a frenetic pace, with lengthy strokes of his painfully throbbing cock probing deep. Each motion was punctuated by the resounding smacks of raw, damp flesh upon flesh.
“Uh-nn, fuck, baby… fuck, baby… yes, yes… oh, God… so fucking good,” Anya was reduced to pitchy expletives as she savoured the tantalizing friction of Max’s thick shaft. She succumbed to the over-the-top, porn-speak, reveling in the dirt and filth, spitting it out with a rapid fire desperation through her clenched, white teeth, “C’mon… c’mon, baby… fuck, yes… give me your cock… like that… oh, fuck me... Ooh…sh-shit!"
He was not to be undone by her, though. “Fucking good… so fucking hot and tight… I want to explode into your fucking hot pussy… shoot all over your fucking body…” he growled and grunted with a sneer on lips. “God, you feel so good… oh, fucking hell… uhhn, shit...”
Within a few moments more, they were barely even able to eke out intelligible words. Primal groans of pleasure and lust escaped from their throats with what little breath they had to offer as every part of their faces and bodies burned and knotted.
They molded their mouths together, pressed as much of their slick, overheated bodies together. Anya locked him in the vice of her fingers, arms and legs as Max drove forward with erratic, terse thrusts, overextending his exhausted muscles.
Anya closed her eyes tight, pinching her brows together as she felt a rush of electricity surge through her entire body from her core to her fingers and toes. A thrilling moan breached her throat as she tensed completely before throwing her head back and bellowing aloud, “Ohh... fuck!”
She burst hard upon Max’s churning cock, a wet flow coursing from her. She held her fingers firm at the back of his neck as her body shook with waves of aftershocks, her crotch pulsing, clenching upon his cock as it continued to drive into her.
“Oh my God… oh my fucking God…” she sputtered, breathless.
Max, feeling his solid shaft slip and slide through her wetness, couldn’t hold back any longer. He jacked his hips with a few more sharp thrusts before grunting aloud and kneeling back.
“Uhh, fuck!” A low groan rattled from his chest as he pulled out from Anya. His thick tip was already spurting strands of cum before it withdrew, a slick of viscous cream dripping from her lips.
Still huffing, he gripped the shaft of his cock, stroking it vigorously with his palm, splashing more droplets of spunk on Anya’s lower belly and pink-blushed thighs. He let loose one last grunt of satisfaction, “Uhhn, fuck yeah.”
Anya sat up slowly and joined Max in a slow-burn kiss. She then turned her mouth's attention on his spunk-coated cock. She grinned and said, “Wipe down time.”
Her head bobbed and tilted as she angled her tongue to mop up the pungent, salty slick along his length.
"Fuck," Max breathed, brushing her hair with his fingers. He hummed, pleased by the softness of her lips and warmth of her mouth.
She sat back up on her knees, a self-satisfied look on her blushing, glowing face. With a dainty wipe with the back of her finger, she cleared a glossy smear from under her lip.
Max, still breathing hard, grinned. "I thought I was on wipe down duties?"
"You still are," she said. She nodded her chin towards the mess they had left on the mat. "And now you also need to clean this up."
Max chuckled. That tiny star-shaped glint sparked in his eye again. "Yeah, we don't want to leave Humpty Dumpty with, um… 'egg' on his face."
Anya rolled her eyes and kissed him to shut him up before he got on a role with stupid quips.
After prolonged smooching and fondling, they began to gather their clothes scattered around the floor. Anya spotted something. She giggled.
"What?" he asked.
Anya twirled her finger, motioning to him to turn around. She plucked something that was stuck to his back, sticky from perspiration.
She held up one of the plastic letters. Grinning wickedly, she asked, "Gimme an 'O'?"
Max regarded the letter and looked back at her with a propped brow, matching that dirty little look on her face. He searched the mat for a moment and picked up a letter 'F'.
"You mean another 'eff'?" he asked.
Anya shrugged, took his letter and then flung them both over her shoulder.
"That'll work," she said, lying back onto the mat, pulling Max along with her.
Max chuckled as he settled on top of her. “What the heck… “
Max --with scrubber and cleanser in hand-- stood patiently behind Devi as the little boy continued his nascent graffiti career on the wall of the daycare center. The child managed to scrawl “S-H-I” with his trusty purple marker and began to attempt what appeared to be a “T”. Max sighed, shook his head. Crouching, he took the marker away and altered the letter into a makeshift “P”.
“What sound does a ship make?” Max asked.
“Baa,” Devi mumbled, looking at his fingers.
Max pursed his lips and bobbed his chin. “Close enough,” he said, then led the boy outside to join the other kids in the playground.
He spotted Anya who was already outside, amongst a circle of tots playing Ring Around the Rosie. She looked at him with her pretty grin, and he nodded back.
She really looked fucking hot in that smock.
Max rolled his eyes and turned away, thinking he still had a few hours before he should be entertaining such thoughts.
Just then, the thunderous, baritone horn of a dump truck driving past the daycare blared through the air. It rattled the entire playground.
“Motherfucker!”
Max turned back, blinking. Anya stood frozen, covering her mouth with one hand while still holding the hand of a child with the other. She looked back towards him aghast, the blood draining from her face.
Eyebrows raised and arms crossed, he smirked towards her.
Just as she started to shake her head, the sing-song, giggly chant of “Motherfucker! Motherfucker!” slowly rose up around her, growing louder and louder...
