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| In Kathleen's Kitchen | Back to M | Back to main page |
Collected by Djian
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| In Kathleen's Kitchen | Back to M | Back to main page |
Collected by Djian
In Kathleen's Kitchen
(M/f, humil, D/s, strip)
By William Drake
"William Drake" <mast_1945@hotmail.com>
Kathleen Donovan tilted her head back, closed her eyes, and let the
warm spray of water hit her upper chest. The play of the water across her
body ... the way it ran down alongside her breasts ... the rivulets that
coursed over her belly ... felt good.
'Friday,' she thought. 'Another week shot all to hell! Another
week of my life ... of my long, boring road to death.'
She was already as clean as a person could get. That part of the
shower had ended several minutes ago, and she felt a twinge of guilt about
wasting both time and hot water standing there simply for her own pleasure.
'Fuck it,' she reflected bitterly. 'The water heater will heat some more,
and as far as wasting time goes, it's not exactly like I have anything
better to do!'
She knew that was the core of much of what was bothering her. It
wasn't yet nine o'clock in the morning and the rest of the day stretched
blankly out before her. She'd driven Daniel to his fifth grade class ...
seen that Shawna had everything she'd needed for high school before her
daughter had driven off in the car she'd gotten for her sixteenth birthday
two months before ... and had kissed her husband, Ralph, goodbye as he'd
left for his office. 'Well,' she remembered, 'not so much kissed him
goodbye as accepted the light peck that almost missed my cheek.'
She was aware that the vast majority of women in the world would
hardly pity her. In fact, they'd be damn envious! On the surface, there
was a lot to envy. She was married to a successful man. Howard had worked
his way up to be Vice President for Marketing at one of the region's largest
manufacturing concerns, and they lived in a 3,600 square foot Tudor home in
one of the city's most prestigious communities. She had two children.
Danny was a lovely boy ... intelligent ... warm ... loving ... the perfect
child. She sighed as she thought about Shawna. By all rights, they should
have been very close. The girl had inherited her mother's appearance. The
same bright red hair ... the same greenish-blue eyes ... the girl was even
rapidly developing the same fulsome, eye catching build her mother had.
'Maybe it's just her age,' Kathleen thought sadly. She tried to
remember whether, as a teenager, she'd been as difficult as Shawna. Maybe
she had been, but, for whatever reason, she had to admit to herself that she
simply didn't like the girl! Lately, nothing that she did for or with her
daughter was right. Shawna sneered at her occasional attempts to open more
lines of communication, and nothing seemed good enough for her. The last
two years, ever since starting high school, she'd developed a new set of
friends ... girls who struck her mother as much too snobbish, judgmental,
and worldly-wise. And the boy she'd just started seeing ... 'More a man
than a boy,' Kathleen thought as she turned and let the shower drench down
her back ... she had recently started seeing ... She couldn't fault Eric's
family. The Bronoughs were filthy rich and among the city's leading lights.
It was just ...
Kathleen thought about Eric as she finally turned off the shower,
stepped out, and began patting herself dry. It wasn't just his age, though
she did question the whole idea of a twenty year old boy dating her sixteen
year old daughter. And she couldn't deny that he was attractive. Maybe too
attractive. It was just ... well, he seemed a little too mature even for
twenty. There was something about him ... an attitude that everything he
saw was his by right. She shuddered as she recalled how he had looked at
her the first time he'd come by to pick Shawna up. He'd boldly looked her
up and down, then met her eyes with an expression she was more used to
seeing from much older men ... an expression that told her as openly and
plainly as words that he'd liked what he'd seen.
Tossing the towel carelessly on the bathroom floor, she moved out to
the bedroom she shared with her husband. She stopped for a moment to
examine herself in the full-length dressing mirror. She wasn't happy with
the light scattering of freckles that dotted her shoulders and the upper
slopes of her breasts, but she'd learned to live with them in her childhood,
and she could hardly have been critical of her body in general.
'Not bad for a woman just weeks from her fortieth,' she thought with
satisfaction. In the last few months, she'd noticed a few gray hairs, but
she'd plucked them out and they wouldn't have shown from this distance
anyway. As always, her eyes were drawn first to her breasts. She'd always
been proud of them, and she felt she had the right. They took a 38-D bra
and, thanks to her rigorous program of exercises, they'd not sagged a bit
over the years. Her hands came up to her chest, cupped them and raised them
slightly. 'Well, maybe an inch or so,' she realized, 'but still ... not at
all bad.'
She turned sideways and checked out her belly. The same frequent
trips to the gym at the country club she and her husband belonged to had
kept it as taut and flat as it had been twenty years earlier. Her butt
still sloped out nicely without a trace of sag, and her legs were as shapely
and as long as ever. 'Of course,' she mused contentedly, 'they say that
they're the last thing to go. They'll probably look good for the next
thirty years1'
'For all the good that's doing me,' she thought angrily as she
turned from the mirror and began rummaging through her closet for her
clothes. Simply put, Harold hadn't really touched her body for three weeks.
It hadn't always been like that. She remembered vividly their courtship.
When they'd been dating, it seemed as if he couldn't even look at her
without sprouting an erection! And their honeymoon! He'd taken her to the
Bahamas. To this day, she couldn't recall what the weather had been. They'd
left their room only to eat, and not always then. Quite a few meals had
been delivered by room service, with Harold wearing only his robe and her
still in bed, the blankets pulled decorously up to her neck as the food cart
had been wheeled into their room.
That had been a time of revelation for the young bride. She'd
already struggled for years with her own attitude about sex. She'd had
these ... urges? ... ever since reaching puberty. Fevered dreams ...
imaginings ... times when she'd felt stirrings when in the presence of
males. Her mother's teachings hadn't helped. God knows, the woman had the
most twisted ideas of physical relations of anyone she'd ever known. Time
after time she'd lectured her daughter on the 'duty,' as distasteful and
demeaning as she'd find it, that she'd someday "have to perform" as a wife.
Kathleen couldn't even put her finger on a date when things had
changed between her and Harold. Perhaps it had started after the birth of
Shawna, perhaps not. In truth, it had probably had more to do with Harold's
career than with any actual, physical change. The higher he'd risen in the
company, the longer the hours he'd put in. And the more he worked, the less
interest he had exhibited in his wife's luscious body. At times she
wondered whether he was getting his cookies baked elsewhere. His cute,
little black secretary would be a temptation to any man, but Kathleen
doubted it. He just seemed to have gotten ... bored? ... with sex.
The problem was that her own libido hadn't receded with Harold's.
As a teenager, Kathleen had had at least the normal interest in sex for one
of her age. And that had only increased after she'd gotten married ...
after she'd been able to indulge her needs without guilt. She'd read in one
of those silly women's magazines that a woman's need for gratification
increased through her forties, and she certainly believed it!
Maybe it would have been better, she thought, if she had a job.
She'd actually worked immediately after their wedding, but when she
mentioned returning to work after Shawna's birth, Harold had nixed the idea
in no uncertain terms. By that time, he'd received the first of his long
string of promotions and was simply worried that the executives where he
worked would think he wasn't able to support her. So, once again she was
facing a long boring day. She had nothing to do but make a quick run to the
grocery store.
Kathleen hated to admit it to herself, but she was afraid to have an
affair. God knew, there was hardly a man at the club who hadn't at some
time or other hinted at his interest and availability. The problem was that
there were many such affairs going on at the exclusive organization, and,
like all the other members, she knew precisely who was fucking whom! If she
were to join the group of women there who spread their legs so happily, it
would also become public knowledge. She knew that Harold wasn't one of
those who'd look the other way. He'd dump her in a minute, and Kathleen
wasn't about to put her privileged lifestyle at risk.
She looked at a fairly conservative slacks outfit, then discarded
it. It would have been more appropriate for shopping than the tube-top and
skirt set she settled on, but her mood this morning was decidedly
inappropriate!
Once dressed, she looked again at the mirror, turning this way and
that to study her appearance. Her breasts bulged out nicely from the top,
and the skirt was a few inches shorter than her snippy daughter would have
though 'right' for an 'old married woman' to be wearing. 'Fuck you,
Shawna!' she mouthed silently at the mirror, feeling very brave.
+ + + + +
The highway was just busy enough that Eric Bronough didn't have to
worry about Kathleen Donovan seeing him. He sat in his Miata, parked in the
video store parking lot across the street, watching his girlfriend's mother
standing by her own car as the bag-boy loaded her groceries in the trunk of
her new Lexus.
'Goddamn, but she's one fine piece of meat,' he thought.
He'd noticed her on her way to the car after he'd picked up the
porno DVD he'd rented to watch with Shawna that evening. The outfit she was
wearing was a bit more revealing than what she normally wore, and he
appreciated it. Her daughter had told him her mother was thirty-nine,
exactly the age that Amanda VanHardt had been five years ago, the day she'd
invited him in to "chat" with her. Mrs. VanHardt was one of his mother's
closest friends. They sat together on virtually every high society "arts"
board in town, promoted the ballet ... the symphony ... the museums ...
They hadn't even sat down on entering the VanHardt place. Instead,
she'd lead him immediately upstairs to keep her company as she "changed."
Changing, as she defined it, had started with her stripping every stitch
from her body while he stood there watching. He'd entered her home as a
virgin. When he left (more like "staggered out," he remembered) six hours
later, she'd taught him more about sex than some men learned in a lifetime.
It was an education that they'd continued over the years. In fact, he still
visited the rich bitch from time to time. And he'd not been shy about using
those lessons on other women. "Girls are fine," he told his college
buddies, "but there's nothing like a rich, bored, married cunt."
Kathleen Donovan wasn't one of them. He'd known that the first time
he'd met her. But there was something about her ... something in her eyes
that reminded him of that coffee house waitress last year. He couldn't
remember the girl's name for the life of him. But he remembered her cute,
petite little body very well indeed ... those high, lemon-sized titties.
God, she'd been something! So demure when she'd finally, hesitantly
stammered out her request that he tie her down to her bed. And the way
she'd cried and protested when he'd ripped her stupid, short waitress
costume from her body. But how willingly and enthusiastically she'd engaged
in every foul perversion he'd demanded once he'd found the flogger she'd
coyly told him was in her dresser used it on on her sweet, young breasts!
His interest in the mother had been really piqued by what Shawna has
said the other night. She told him that she'd recently come home a little
early and had gone up to the second floor to change. She'd heard a funny
noise from the closed master bedroom and had put her ear against the door.
It had taken her several seconds, she'd giggled, to understand what she was
hearing ... the low-pitched buzzing sound accompanied by a deep-throated,
feminine moan.
Eric snapped back to the present as Kathleen tipped the bag-boy and
got behind the wheel of her car. At that moment, he made up his mind.
+ + + + +
'I can't believe the way he stared at me!' Kathleen thought. 'What
was he? Maybe sixteen? Hell, I know he's no older than Shawna! God!' She
was still thinking about the way the bag-boy had looked at her at her
cleavage ... at the trust of her ass ... as she pulled into the driveway and
stopped to take the groceries from her car before pulling it down and into
the garage. 'Maybe I shouldn't have dressed this way, but there's a hell of
a lot of women out there wearing a lot less.'
"Hi, Mrs. Donovan. Can I help you."
Kathleen started in surprise. She'd been so deep in her thoughts
that she hadn't even heard Eric's car pull into the drive behind her.
"Oh! Uh ... good morning, Eric." She had to resist the temptation
to make some kind of futile gesture at shielding herself from his eyes, but
this time, as he smiled, his expression was only friendly and respectful.
He reached out to take the first bag from her hands.
"I was just driving by and saw you. Let me help you getting that
stuff inside."
He didn't wait for her to answer, and she couldn't think of a reason
to refuse him anyway. 'Maybe I mis-judged him,' she thought. 'After all,
he is very handsome ...'
It took them two trips to get the bags into the kitchen, and by then
she again began to have second thoughts. Eric settled in on a kitchen chair
and watched as she started putting her purchases away. As she stretched up
to put the boxes of cereal on the upper shelf, she was very conscious of the
way her tube top tautened across her breasts and raised to expose most of
her bare belly and the way the hem of her skirt rose against her bare
thighs.
"Nice. I wonder if Shawna's will get as big as yours."
Kathleen almost dropped the box of shredded wheat as she spun to
look at him. His eyes were fixed firmly on her chest, his smile was now
almost mocking and his expression now was completely predatory.
"I'm sorry?" She'd meant the question to be hauty and demeaning.
It shamed her to hear her tone come across more as meek and fearful.
"Her tits. They're really quite nice, you know. Nice and big and
round ... They're already considerably bigger than most women's. And
they're really sensitive. But she's only sixteen. I'm wondering whether
they're still growing ... whether she'll eventually sport a set of knockers
as impressive as those."
It seemed like some kind of dream to Kathleen. She couldn't be
standing her ... in her own kitchen ... listening to this ... this boy ...
saying things like this to her! She felt like she should say something ...
something to put him in his place ... anything! ... But she only watched
him as he rose from the chair, opened the refrigerator and pulled out a
bottle of beer, opened it and took a swallow. Instead of sitting back down,
he moved over to stand directly in front of her.
"I ... I think you should be leaving."
He put the top of the bottle under one of her breasts and pushed it
upward slightly. "Or? Just what will you do if I don't?" He smiled at
her. "Call the cops? What law have I broken? Tell that wimpy husband of
yours? Frankly, I don't think he'd give a shit!" She seemed frozen, her
hands behind her on the counter, as he leaned forward and kissed the side of
her neck softly. "Or maybe you'll tell Shawna on me." He chuckled. "I
wonder what she would do. Never see me again, maybe?"
The feel of his lips on her neck sent a shiver through Kathleen's
body. For a moment, she pictured the young cock she could feel pressing
against her belly through their clothes. A part of her mind was actually
telling her that he wasn't like those guys who ogled her at the club ... who
pressed her a little too hard against themselves when they danced at the
frequent parties. Eric had no reason to tell ...
"No!" she practically screamed, her hands leaving the counter to
push his chest away from her. "Get out, dammit! Get out!"
Kathleen hadn't given a second's thought to precisely what she was
expecting him to do. But, whatever it was, his actual reaction wasn't it.
He grabbed her wrists and bent them around behind her back as easily as if
she were a rag doll. Both of her wrists were held strongly in one of his
hands as his other slipped up under her tube top. His fingers dug into the
cup of her bra so hard she bit her lip in pain.
"Listen, bitch!" he growled. "You don't tell me what to do! I'm
telling you! And when I tell you, you do it! Now ... do you hear me?"
She looked up at him, both fear and surprise on her face. His
sudden apparent anger wasn't all that frightened her. More than that was a
quiet voice in her own mind ... one she heard saying, 'He's not like all
those old, married men at the club ... even if he talked, it wouldn't be to
anyone that Harold knows ... ' And the pain in her breast seemed to travel
a direct nerve through her belly to her clit! She actually felt it
beginning to swell!
Eric's face softened as if he was reading her mind. He stepped
back, slowly withdrew his hand from her chest, and folded his arms across
his chest. All she saw was the way that made his young biceps seem to
bulge.
"Strip!" he commanded.
Kathleen simply stared at him, not even aware that she was slowly
shaking her head. 'I can't!' she thought frantically. 'He's just ... he's
just a boy! He's dating Shawna, for God's sake!' But while she was
thinking no, her hands, almost as if by their own volition, crossed in front
of her, grasped the bottom of her tube top, and drew it up. She watched his
face as he gazed at the freckled upper slopes of her breasts bulging out
over the cups of her bra. It was almost as if, having gone this far, she no
longer saw any reason ... any way ... to stop. Silently, she reached behind
herself, opened the clasp of her bra, and shrugged it of into her hands.
If she expected him to immediately grab and enjoy the massive globes
of flesh that now hung there right in front of him, she was disappointed.
He smiled lightly and licked his lips, but he didn't move. Instead, he
gesture casually with one hand at her skirt.
'My God, I'm so ... so ... cheap!' she thought. 'I'm stripping
myself. I'm showing my body off to this ... this twenty-year-old kid who's
dating my own daughter! And he's standing there ... looking at me ...
looking at me like I'm some cheap whore he's bought and paid for.'
Still ... she put her hands in the waistband of her last remaining
garment and shoved it, as well as her panties, down to puddle around her
feet on the kitchen floor. For some irrational reason, it suddenly occurred
to her she was still wearing her short, white socks and gym shoes. Somehow
that made her feel even more naked ... cheaper ... than if she'd taken the
time to remove them.
Eric definitely couldn't have cared less about what was on her feet.
Without saying a word, he stepped forward again and bent his head to take
one of her offered breasts in his mouth. As his hands grabbed her naked
hips, he sank his teeth into her already erect nipple and bit down ... hard!
Kathleen threw her head back and moaned softly. Her hands hung
limply at her sides, making no attempt to push him away. For the first time
in her life, she found some degree of pleasure ... of fulfillment ... in
pain. She reveled in the feeling of his teeth grinding ,,, pulling ... on
her pebble-hard, sensitive bud. Her hands came up to his head, urging it to
move from side to side ... to pull on her nipple even harder!
She barely noticed his hands as they slid up her sides to her
shoulders. Only when he pulled his head back violently until her badly
scraped nipple finally popped from his teeth, did she respond to the
downward pressure, falling to her knees on the hard tiles before him.
"Take my pants off, bitch!" he commanded.
Eric was no longer a boy. He was a man. He was all men. Her
fingers trembled as they managed to open his belt, unhook the waist of his
slacks, and push them down to the floor. She paused a moment, eyeing the
huge bulge in the front of his tight, white jockey shorts. But only a
moment. She wasn't even aware that she licked her own lips as she shoved
them down to join his slacks at his feet.
She was a little surprised that Eric didn't immediately cram his
meat into her mouth as Harold was once wont to do at this stage. He seemed
happy enough to let her rock back against her heels and stare at his rampant
erection. The rod was about the same thickness as her husband's, but it was
at least an inch longer, and while the head of Harold's was thinner than the
shaft, the end of Eric's flared out broadly.
Finally, the young boy reached down and wrapped his hand in her
hair. tugging down to tilt her head back, he said softly, "Open your
mouth."
Kathleen felt one last moment of sanity. She shook her head. "No."
The expression on Eric's face didn't change. He simply pulled her
hair harder, hard enough to elicit a gasp of pain from the older woman, and
used his other hand to slap her face.
"I said, open your mouth, slut!"
Kathleen didn't know whether the tears that suddenly flooded her
eyes were from the pain or the humiliation. But she opened her mouth. She
once again expected him to shove his cock into her face, but he surprised
her by leaning forward and laying his scrotum on her open lips. The young
boy fought to keep a gloating look from his face as he looked down at the
older woman so meekly mouthing one of his testicles. She was looking up at
him as if soundlessly asking for his approval. But to compliment her would
not be in keeping with his plan for her. He'd read her correctly. She'd
been ripe ... so frustrated and lonely that he knew he'd be able to use her
however he wanted. The idea of fucking both a woman and her sexy, young
daughter ... a daughter who looked like a younger version of herself ... it
was incredibly exciting. He rocked back, pulled his hairy scrotum from her
mouth, and crudely drove the first three inches of his throbbing dick into
her face.
"Suck it," he commanded simply. And, as he knew she would, she
complied. His second hand joined the first on her head and held it still
while he slowly fed her another couple of inches. Kathleen was still
looking up at him, but he wasn't in the least interested in reading whatever
her expression was meant to convey. The sight of her lips stretched around
him ... the warm, liquid feel of her mouth surrounding his male member ...
those were enough for him.
He drew himself back to where only the head of his cock remained
embedded, then hesitated. Her expectant look as she waited gratified him
almost as much as the pressure that the tip of her tongue exerted on his
glans did. Then he drove most of the length of his organ into her mouth
brutally. Kathleen raised her hands to her the level of her shoulders,
waving them in the air as if in protest, but she made no attempt to push him
away. Smiling, the boy began combining the thrust of his hips and the pull
of his hands to fuck his way in and out of her willing mouth.
"You're a good little cock-sucker, aren't you, bitch?" he gloated.
"This is how you should have to spend your life ... on your knees with men's
dicks fucking that slutty face of yours!" He laughed outright. "You'd love
that, wouldn't you? A whole army of men standing in a line, their dicks
hanging out of their pants, just waiting to give you a stomach full of their
hot, gooey cum?"
Kathleen felt ashamed ... ashamed of not feeling ashamed. She
wondered how he knew of one of the fantasies she'd indulged in over the
years ... times when she'd retreated to her bedroom when she was alone in
the house ... her trusty vibrator between her eager thighs. And, in her
fantasies, this was exactly how the men had treated her ... standing over
her kneeling figure ... grinning down at her as if she were some kind of
worthless slut ... fucking her face deeply and slowly ... enjoying the way
their dicks slid across her lapping tongue ...just as he was doing now.
In fact, she looked up at him in obvious disappointment when he
suddenly pulled back, removing his proud organ from her still gaping mouth.
"Sorry, cunt," he smiled down at her. "I'll finish in your mouth
some other time. Today I have other plans."
She had no chance to ask what he meant. Before she'd even recovered
her breath, he used his grip on her hair to literally drag her up from her
knees and shoved over the kitchen table. She yelped in agony, both from the
pain in her scalp and the crash of her abdomen against the sharp edge on the
heavy oaken table top. Eric paid her protest no mind, instead dragging her
forward to slam her upper body, face down, across the place where her
husband and children had eaten breakfast just a few hours earlier.
"Spread your legs!"
The redhead knew damn good and well what he meant, and she didn't
hesitate to obey. Once again she thought about whether the cock that she
knew would be shoved up into her belly had already made the same journey
into her daughter's pussy. At that moment, her feelings weren't in the
least protective of her unappreciative sixteen year old. Rather, they were
solely competitive. 'Too bad, you whiny little bitch,' she thought. 'It's
mine right now!' She didn't hesitate one second to raise herself on her
toes and angle her pelvis up to make it easier for the guy to find her hole.
The part of her that tried to cry out that she was being raped ... that
she was conspiring in the ravaging of her own well rounded body ... wasn't
heard at all. And when she felt his bent knees brushing the insides of her
legs, she tried her damndest to capture that beautiful, stiff organ.
Kathleen bit her lower lip to avoid only the defeat that begging
would signify. But when the twenty-year-old slammed his dick up into her
hungry cavern, she couldn't keep from moaning low in her throat. She didn't
even hear her attacker chuckle in triumph. All she could do was feel. She
knew all the usual stuff ... that most of the nerve ending in her cunt were
around the opening ... but she could have sworn that she actually felt the
broad head sliding in. And she definitely felt the pain when it came to the
end of the tunnel that her position had so foreshortened and slammed into
her cervix.
"Oh ... God!" The exclamation slipped out without her conscious
volition. And when he put his hands on the cheeks of her ass, sinking his
fingers into her pliant flesh as he held her lower body pressed to the sharp
edge of the table, and began ramming it in and out brutally, her last
inhibitions disappeared.
"Ohhhhh .... SHIT! Yes! Fuck me, goddamnit! Harder!"
There was something about this ... his youth ... the fact that he
was using her sprawled across her own kitchen table ... the fact that he was
USING her ... not making love ... that he was RAPING her ... In all her
thirty-nine years, she'd never been THIS excited. She pushed her upper body
up on her elbows to get enough leverage to push back ... to try to force his
cock into her even deeper ... to take his blows up against the end of her
vagina even harder ...
'I can't believe it!' she thought. 'I'm ... I'm ...' Never in her
life had she felt the tremors of oncoming orgasm in her belly this quickly.
Even Harold, early in their marriage when he was really trying, had had to
play with her ... to slowly build her arousal level. But this
twenty-year-old bastard was ...
When his hands abandoned her buttocks under reached in under her
chest ... when his fingers grasped her dangling titties and began mauling
them ... when he twisted her nipples painfully and dragged them out to the
side ... the dam broke.
"Oh .... FUCCCCCCK!" she screamed. She collapsed back down onto the
table, his hands still buried in her depressed tits. For her, Eric as a
young man had ceased to exist. For her, the universe was composed solely of
her spasming belly and the stiff rod that it held.
As her consciousness spread out ... as it once again began to
encompass her surroundings ... she was shocked to realize that the slab of
meat in her pussy was still hard! In all her married years, there's been at
most a dozen times when she'd orgasmed while Harold was actually in her.
And, each of those times, her gyrations had brought her husband off as well.
"You ..." she gasped. "You didn't ... you didn't cum!"
Eric's mouth was now next to her ear. He ignored her comment for
the moment. "You're really one hot, little piece of ass, aren't you?" he
whispered. Now released from her mood of passion, she cringed at the
confident, almost demeaning, tone in his voice. "Just about the hottest
cunt I've ever had."
"Go ahead," she whispered discreetly. "I don't mind."
The young man laughed at her derisively. Instead of what she
expected ... that he would re-commence pumping himself off in her cunt until
he'd satisfied himself ... he pulled his cock from her belly. She felt him
lay it in the deep chasm between her swelling asscheeks. Even when he
pulled one hand from her chest and reached between them to grasp the base of
his still erect organ, fumbling it around in her anal groove, she still
didn't understand what he was doing. Didn't understand, that is, until she
felt the head of his massive member being pressed against her crinkled
sphincter.
"No!" Her attempts to squirm away from him were prevented by the
weight of his larger body sprawled across hers. She couldn't help
remembering ... thinking about her own secret shame ... that recently she'd
discovered the extra fillip it added to her all-too-frequent sessions of
masturbation to roll onto her side to where she could lightly scratch one
fingernail over this most personal entrance to her body. But nothing ...
nothing! ... had ever intruded there!
"Relax, baby," he chortled in her ear. "If you fight it, it's just
going to hurt more."
"Please. Please. Don't! I'll ... I'll take care of you. I'll suck
it for you. I'll suck it for you real good! I'll ..... AIGHHH!"
Eric felt her ring muscle finally give way ... felt the head of his
prick jam its way down into Kathleen's tightest, most intensely private
hole. "You'll take care of me, all right, cunt! Or rather, I'll take care
of myself!" He drew back just a bit, then plunged forward further, feeling
amply rewarded by her abject cry of pain. He'd been certain of her ... of
what he'd be able to do to her ... before he'd even walked into her kitchen.
And nothing that had happened since disabused him. He didn't know why she
was the way she was ... couldn't have cared less, in fact. But he knew that
this was the way to take her ... fast and brutal! As he started sawing in
and out of her tight, dry rectum, her arms flew out above her head. She
didn't even notice when one of them swept the butter dish, left there from
her family's breakfast, to the floor where it shattered.
Kathleen didn't understand. The pain was intense. She felt as if
he had rammed a baseball bat up her ass! Her body, from her knees to her
waist, was one red-hot ball of agony. But she was cumming again! No
foreplay. No build-up. Just an orgasm ripping through her body from the
moment her poor, torn anus had been forced open wide enough to accommodate
the thick head of this twenty-year-old's massive dick! She would have sworn
she could feel every inch of it ... felt his belly slamming forcefully
against her bulbous asscheeks, flattening them as he shoved her pelvis up
against the sharp edge of the table.
"Oh, yeah!" he exulted. "This is it, baby! This ... is ... IT!"
If anything, his thrusts became deeper and harder as she heard his
guttural cries of gratification and felt the ropy strands of his gism erupt
in her upturned, vulnerable bowels.
+ + + + +
Eric Bronough extended his left arm up along the top of his parents'
couch. He sipped his glass of wine as he looked down at the full head of
red hair sprayed across his back. Shawna's body lay face down along the
length of the couch, wearing only her skimpy panties. He admired the way
they dug into the flesh of her hips. He couldn't see her mouth, but he
could sure as hell feel it! And it felt damned good wrapped around his
stiff erection.
'I wonder what she'd say,' he thought, 'if she knew that, not twelve
hours ago, it was buried in the hole that her mother's shit uses to leave
her body.' He suspected that the little slut wouldn't give a damn. 'It's
not like I'm not a gentleman. After all, I have showered since.'
The idea that he'd see Kathleen again added to his growing
excitement. The mother hadn't met his eyes when he'd picked up Shawna this
evening, but he knew nevertheless. He remembered looking at her over
Shawna's shoulder as he'd helped the girl into her coat. He'd silently
mouthed the word 'Monday' at her. Kathleen had dropped her eyes
submissively again, and she'd blushed quite prettily. But she'd nodded.
But more than that, he remembered how she'd acted that morning,
especially how she'd reacted to the very last thing he'd done before zipping
up his pants and leaving her still panting across the kitchen table. He'd
dipped the tips of three of his fingers into her asscrack, scooped up a glob
of his cum as it had oozed from her torn asshole, bent forward over her and
shoved the scummy fingers in her mouth. She hadn't said a word. But she'd
sucked the combination of his sperm and her own blood and ass juices from
his digits as if it were ambrosia.
He set the wineglass on the end table and put his right hand atop
her slowly bobbing head. He was almost gentle as he pushed down, forcing
her to take more of his dick into her face. Shawna didn't resist his
pressure, merely moaning a bit louder, whether in protest or approval he
didn't know. Nor did he care all that much.
He was more curious as to whether the young girl was still a virgin.
The eagerness, not to mention the skill, with which she was copping his
joint made that doubtful, but he knew you could never tell. He remembered
one girl he'd screwed last year. She'd bragged about a club she and some of
her buddies had started back when they were in the seventh grade. They'd
sworn to remain virgins until they married. It had been more of a challenge
than old fashioned prudery that had motivated them. And they hadn't been
about to risk losing the interest of the boys in the class. Their agreement
had been to substitute gobbling their boyfriends' little wieners in place of
actually fucking them. The half-dozen or so girls had become so instantly
popular, and the boys had been so public with their approval, that by the
next year, most of the girls in the class had joined on! Of course, few of
them lasted through high school with their cherries intact, but Eric knew a
lot of younger girls used oral sex as a means of avoiding worrying about
becoming pregnant, and he couldn't help wondering whether Shawna might not
be one of them.
'Not that it makes any difference,' he thought, as he put his left
hand on the back of her neck. Whether she was willing or not, it was about
time to flip this little cunt over, pull her panties down her sleek, full
legs, and show her what his meat-stick could do for her.
He trailed two fingers softly down her back, one on either side of
her spine. The girl wriggled in delight at the touch. As her buttocks
rose, he slipped his hand under the waistband of her panties, cupped and
squeezed one firm asscheek. He arched his hand up slightly, enough to be
able to see her taut, white cheeks and the deep groove that separated them.
'Oh yeah,' he thought with a smile. 'Just about time!'
Finis