A Mother and her daughter are stalked and really bad stuff happens to them
Megan and Her Mom
By Mario Caliente
I spotted them in the shopping mall. They stood out amid the bustling horde of Christmas shoppers on the Sunday after Thanksgiving. Swans among sparrows, like Romeo said when he first saw Juliet. (He said something like that, anyway.) Once they caught my attention, it was as if there was no one else around, though I was greatly appreciative of the fact that we WERE surrounded by a teaming mass of aggressive shoppers exuding holiday spirit, because this allowed me to follow them unnoticed, observing everything about them as they moved along, both of them carrying several packages, laughing, stopping from time to time as they walked along the shopping center concourse to look into the display cases of the many stores.
The mother couldn’t have been more than in her late thirties, though she looked much younger. In fact, at first I thought she might have been the older sister of the teenage girl that she was with. But after carefully studying them as they strolled along, both of them occasionally bumped by people pushing past them, but both laughing and having fun nonetheless, I decided that while they might have seemed like sisters, this was, in fact, a mother and her daughter.
At one store the mother waited outside, holding all their bags while her daughter went inside the store. From only ten feet away, as I pretended to be absorbed by whatever the fuck it was in the show window next to me, I was in fact watching the mother intently. A smile was fixed on her face as she idly looked up and done the concourse of the crowed shopping center, waiting for her daughter. She was stunningly good looking. Dark blonde hair fell to her shoulders. She was dressed impeccably in suede boots, designer jeans and a light weight, tight fitting white sweater underneath a brown leather jacket. Perfect for a late November day.
With a lump in my throat and a bulge in my pants, I walked through the crowd toward the mother. As I passed by her, I pretended to be shoved into her by a phantom jostler. I savored the brief moment that our bodies touched. My hard-on actually brushed her ass through her jeans, just beneath the hem of her leather jacket. I smiled at her with a helpless expression on my face and said “excuse me, ma’am”, and she smiled back, saying “no problem”. She must not have felt my hard-on. I knew at that moment, seeing close up her shinning eyes and bright smile, that I would somehow, someway, sometime, rape the living shit out of her.
I walked ten feet past her and paused before another store window, and began observing her from this new angle. She looked a little bit like a Catherine Zeta Jones, only with dark blonde hair. I saw her check her watch and peer into the store where her daughter was. A few more minutes passed when her daughter came back out, grabbed her mother’s purse from her shoulder, and ran back into the store. I starred at the mother, who now wore a look of exasperation. I wondered where her husband was. I pictured her naked on a bed, a pillow under her ass, her legs open and raised as I mounted her. The swelling in my pants was intense. I swore to myself that I would, in fact, at some point really be mounting her!
A few more minutes passed before the daughter came out of the store with another package. They conversed briefly, and then strolled off purposely down the concourse. From a safe distance I followed them. Through the bobbing and weaving of the crowd, I occasionally got good glances of them from behind. My attention now turned to the daughter. I guessed that she was about sixteen. At about 5’6” she was already maybe an inch taller than her mother, and her blonde hair was much lighter. You could tell by their facial features that they were related, although I didn’t quite see the Catherine Zeta Jones angle in the younger one. She was wearing a brown corduroy jacket that did not reach the top of her low hanging jeans. Beneath the jacket was a delicate top that didn’t come down to her jeans, either. “Don’t these girls get cold in the winter?” I thought to myself. I wasn’t complaining. Her outfit provided me a good full inch of her bare skin just above the point where her ass and hips began to swell into her jeans. A hint of her thong panties—red—was just visible above the top of her jeans. I was glad to see she didn’t have one of those tattoos on that particular part of her body. So many girls have those these days that they have become boring. Maybe mommy won’t let her have one yet? Or daddy?
Suddenly, the thought of having both of these hot females at the same time entered my perverted mind. My eyes went from one to the other as I followed them. I began fantasizing about having both pairs of those jeans down around both pairs of ankles. Having both those delicious asses in the air, mother’s and daughter’s, side by side, waiting for my penis to penetrate them both! Asses waiting in the air. Waiting….
My head was dizzy from this thought, but the feeling cleared as the woman and her daughter went outside and I followed them from a distance into the cool early evening air. The sun had just set, and in not too many minutes it would be dark. I followed them to their car, a recent model SUV. Oblivious to my presence forty feet away, mother got in behind the wheel and daughter in the passenger’s seat. I quickly ran to my own car which fortunately was only several rows away. As I steered my car toward the exit of the parking lot I found that my subjects’ car was three cars in front of me.
They pulled out onto the street and headed west. I followed. The fact that it was nearly dark meant that it would be harder to follow them, but it also meant that it would be harder for them to tell they were being followed—one pair of headlights in the rearview mirror is like any other.
Our cars got onto the freeway, and drove three or four exits before getting off. We then headed down a road that took us into a fairly fancy residential neighborhood. I managed to usually leave a car or two between us, but after turning onto a much smaller and quieter street, it was only their car and mine. The houses here were large and on rather spacious lots. Soon, their car pulled into a driveway. I slowed as I saw the garage door opening. As I drove past, I noted that the two car garage was half full of boxes, leaving only space for a single vehicle which now drove into it. Checking the number on the house—444—I drove on past. The garage door shut.
I drove back to a commercial area and stopped at a down home style bar, the kind of place where virtually all the patrons are regulars. I sat at the bar and ordered a beer. I pulled a pen and notebook from my jacket. After taking a big first swig from the beer, I started to take notes. I had planning to do. I wrote: “Operation: mother/daughter.” Then a check list: “1. who lives in house? 2. Husband? 3. Other kids? 4. When do they come and go? 5. Security system?”
The fact that there was space for only one car in the garage was interesting. I would have to drive by later that night to see if another car was later parked in the driveway. A husband’s car? Or, was this suburban mother a divorcee or widow, meaning that I wouldn’t have to worry about the presence of a male when I invaded the house? In my mind, the raping of a happily married woman would be particularly satisfying, but it didn’t matter. I was very happy with my selected victim. Or, I should say, victims. Very happy, indeed.
Fortunately, I would be able to find out everything I needed to know about my prey. I had the time to do so. I didn’t have to work for a living. My parents died several years ago and left all kinds of insurance money for my sister and me. I never had to work again if I didn’t want to, though I took bartending jobs from time to time. That was a great way to meet chicks and get laid, and there was a period there when I was getting more ass than I knew what to do with. But I had become bored with that routine. I wanted something different. I wanted to do something…wicked. Something perverted. But I didn’t know what. Until the magic night came, This chick had stuck around the bar until closing time and then asked if I could give her a ride home. We got to her place, and got to making out pretty heavily on the couch in her living room. Her roommate was out of town. But then, the bitch put the brakes on after I had had my hands all over her. Said she had just broken up with a boyfriend and didn’t want to feel that she was going to have sex with me on the rebound. Well, I lost it. I wrestled her to the floor and tore her clothes off. She resisted, and the more she resisted, the more excited I got. In fact, I was so intoxicated with her resistance that when I finally got my cock in her and felt her acquiescing, I got pissed. I slapped her. I wanted her to keep struggling while I fucked her. (But I didn’t slap her too hard. I didn’t leave any bruises. She knew where I worked, and if the cops came knocking I needed to be able to convince them that the sex was consensual—rough, but consensual, just the way she said she liked it. I made sure, though, to take the woman’s ripped blouse with me when I left her house. It didn’t need to look like it had been TOO rough!) The next day, a light bulb came on in my head. I knew from that moment what it was that turned me on. My male organ stirred at the very thought of it. I needed to find, abduct and rape a strange woman!
That’s what I was doing at the mall. Shopping for a victim. It was looking like I found a bargain sale. You know. Buy one, get one free.
Early the next morning, a Monday, my car was parked two doors down from 444. My car’s windows were darkly tinted and it could not be seen that I or anyone was sitting in it. At 7:00 am, the SUV backed out of the garage, into the street, and pulled away. It appeared that the same two females as the night before were in the car. I followed them from a discreet distance.
The girl was let off at a catholic high school five miles away. The SUV continued on, with me following. I had to remain several cars behind in order to remain inconspicuous. In another five miles the SUV pulled into a four story office complex, and the woman parked and got out. She was dressed in a very smart business skirt suit and carried a stylish lap top bag. Walking briskly with never a glance to her surroundings, the woman entered the building.
I went and had breakfast. A Mexican joint that made my favorite: huevos rancheros.
Later that morning I was jogging and just happened to be on the street where they lived. I was whistling that tune from “My Fair Lady” about the excitement of being on the street where someone special lives. As I was passing the curbside mailbox at 444, I suddenly felt the need to cling to something and retch. I choose the mailbox to lean on. Leaning over it, faking a retch, I opened the mailbox and quickly took out its contents: some junk mail, a bill and a magazine. (I had seen the mailman pass by forty minutes earlier.) The mail fit nicely beneath my sweatshirt. Slowly I continued on, soon breaking into a jog again. It certainly seemed to be a quiet residential neighborhood.
Half an hour later I was at a Starbucks reading their mail. The bills were addressed to a Sandra McFarland. The magazine, one for teenage girls, was addressed to Megan Nichols. Nothing for a Mr. McFarland or a Mr. Nichols. Interesting.
Pulling out my lap top, I quickly found Megan Nichols on Facebook. Hmmm. Nice picture. Pretty girl. Under “likes and interests”, then “activities”, I discovered that she played volleyball. Was on her high school volleyball team. Birthday….was last month, and let’s see…she’s only sixteen! Big time jail bait! Well, what I planned to do would carry jail time regardless of the age! Proceed carefully, my friend.
I sipped my coffee, then called Megan’s high school and found out that there was a game at the school that night at 7:00.
Megan’s team was in a tight struggle with the visiting squad. The crowd was not large, but large enough for me to blend in unnoticed. I was sitting in the visitor’s section, close but not too close to some of the visiting parents. I figured I would not be sniffed out as a stalking sexual predator if the home crowd on the other side of the court assumed I was a visiting relative, and the visiting crowd assumed that I was just out of place.
Megan looked fantastic in her tight, short volleyball shorts and equally tight fitting jersey, number 5. There were several other hotties on her team, and on the other team, as well, but I had eyes only for Megan. Her long legs were sleek and smooth. Her blonde hair was pinned up for the game, but loose strands would work free, causing her to brush them out of her face occasionally. Her young breasts, obviously held in place by some sort of sports bra, appeared to be having an ongoing fight with her jersey regarding space rights. How, I wondered, did the nuns at this catholic school let these young girls prance around in such sexy, provocative attire? Looking around the gym, though, I didn’t see any nuns. They must have not been sports fans.
I was extremely disappointed at the beginning of the game that Megan’s mom, Sandra, was not to be seen among the twenty or so parents in the home crowd. My disappointment turned to elation, though, when, with the game tied 5-5 in the first set, in she came, hurrying, still dressed as she was that morning when I followed her to work. My eyes followed her like a hawk watching a rabbit as she hurried in on the other side of the court. She climbed several rows up in the bleachers and plopped into a seat near three other mothers who greeted her warmly. No man was around them. “Where is the father?” I wondered. Is there a Mr. McFarland/Nichols? Megan’s Facebook entries hadn’t provided a clue on this.
In any event, from then on my eyes rotated between Megan on the court and her mom in the bleachers. When Megan, at the net, had a rousing kill, the home crowd cheered lustily. Sandra jumped up, laughing and clapping. Two of the other mothers gave her high fives. I pictured her naked, tied to a bed.
After a time-out, I noticed how Megan lingered a moment with the coach, a good looking guy in his thirties, who put a hand on her shoulder as he gave her some one-on-one instruction. How could a guy like that be around a bunch of hot little teenie boppers, I wondered, without either going crazy or getting busted for statutory?
Megan’s team pulled out an exciting three set victory. She and her teammates celebrated wildly, while their parents stood applauding. Meanwhile, half of the girls on the losing team were crying while their parents also applauded, but in a more subdued manner. One of the girls on the other team did draw my attention away from Megan and her mom for a moment, a dark little brunette who had dropped to the floor in despair after match point. As I watched her sitting there, her elbows on her knees, her face buried in her hands, an image flashed through my head of her tied up in the back of a van, her volleyball shirt and sports bra pushed up around her neck, her tight shorts in a bunch around her bound ankles, revealing her dark skinned body in all its beauty. I was driving the van to a remote location….
I snapped out of my fantasy in time to see Megan and her mom embracing at courtside. As the crowd then filed out of the gym, I was only steps behind the two of them as they walked out into the school hallway and headed for the doors. Megan had put on a warm-up suit and walked with her mother outside to the SUV, waving and saying goodbyes to teammates and their families.
There was no need to follow them from a close distance this time since I knew where they lived. I drove past their house maybe five minutes after they returned home. The lights inside were on. I was glad the garage door was closed; otherwise I might have been tempted to get things going with them prematurely. And that would not have been a wise decision. I still had planning to do.
The following morning I was in my other car, waiting just down the street from 444. I had changed cars, obviously, so as not to draw suspicion. As I awaited the garage door to open, I looked carefully at the home security system sign that was placed close to the front door of the house. Was it for real? I knew people who did not invest in such systems, but who placed signs like this so that people like me would think they had them. I was going to assume the sign was for real. That meant no breaking and entering.
As I was contemplating various entry possibilities, the garage door opened. It was almost exactly the same time as the day before. Good. A pattern. I noticed something else that was very interesting, something that had also happened the day before. The mother would get in the SUV and have the engine running, still in the garage with the door open, and would have to honk several times before the girl would come running out to the car.
Before the SUV could back out of the driveway, I started my car and drove away. No need to follow anymore. I knew where the woman was going. I drove straight to Sandra’s office building and was waiting inside the door when she walked in after dropping her daughter off at school. It was an office building that had a number of different businesses located in it: real estate offices, insurance agents and the like. I pretended to be studying the building’s directory, mounted on a wall just inside the door, as Sandra came striding in and walked past me, her high heels clicking on the tile floor. Casually, I turned and followed her. She was wearing a black suit, its skirt falling to the knees. It would have been considered a conservative outfit except for a not too subtle slit up one side of the skirt, a slit that left no doubt that her legs were quite sensational. As she walked briskly toward her office in the same manner as she had undoubtedly done on countless other mornings, with her shoulder length dark blonde hair bouncing and her fine, trim ass swinging softly, she did not know that on this particular morning a rapist was stalking her. Her future rapist’s eyes fixed on that sensual ass as it swayed before him. His hands soon enough would be upon that ass. Only it wouldn’t be clothed when that happened.
The woman entered office number 112. On the glass door of the office was written “Sandra McFarland and Associates”. A secretary type was at a desk near the door. I watched her greet Sandra, who continued walking and entered one of several backroom offices.
An hour late I was dialing the phone number for Sandra McFarland and Associates. A woman answered. “Yes,” I said, I’m looking for Sandra Nichols”.
“Sandra Nichols?” The woman’s voice sounded confused. “This is Sandra McFarland and Associates…wait, Nichols was Ms. McFarland’s married name.”
“Was?” I asked.
“She’s no longer married.” A bit of irritation appeared to be creeping into voice on the other end of the line. “Is it Ms. McFarland that you want? May I say who’s calling?”
“No, that’s okay, I think I’ve got the wrong person. Thanks anyway.” I hung up.
So, she’s divorced! Or widowed, whatever. Mother and daughter live alone! No big, bad male dude to worry about! A big smile covered my face as I sipped my Starbucks coffee.
The next morning, Wednesday, I was ready. I had my handy bag of tricks with me, and was dressed as a meter reader might be dressed. From the previous two mornings I knew the time that the garage door would open, and I was busy pretending to read the next door neighbor’s meter when the door opened this morning. Quickly, I moved to the side of 444 and pressed myself against the exterior wall of the garage. In casing the layout I knew that no nosey neighbor could see me at this particular spot. I heard the SUV’s engine come to life. I ducked down and turned the corner leading to the open garage door, and entered the garage, crawling beside the passenger side of the SUV, my body too low to be seen by the driver. Had the girl come sooner to get into the passenger seat, she would have tripped over me. I was prepared for that contingency, and would have sprung into action at the moment if the situation had called for it. But that wasn’t Plan A.
The horn honked as I crawled past the passenger side door, dragging my bag of tricks, and made it to the boxes stacked on the right side of the garage.
I made it to the boxes just in time. Megan came bounding through the door from the house and into the garage just seconds after I was able to hide. She passed not three feet from me. Crouching close to the ground, I got a good look at her legs at my eye level, a beautiful pair of well shaped legs that were well displayed beneath the hem of an incredibly short, catholic school girl’s plaid and pleated skirt. Yum! How could a male math teacher keep his mind on teaching with this honey sitting in the front row!?
The SUV backed out of the garage. My heart raced as I sat there on the concrete floor of the garage, behind the boxes, waiting for the door to close. It seemed like it took forever, but at last I heard the mechanism of the garage door opener jump to life. Still, it seemed to take forever for the fucking garage door to close. One it did, I found myself sitting on cold concrete in total darkness. Being so uncomfortable had never felt so good. Outside I heard the SUV pull away. I smiled in the darkness. Plan A, Step One completed, I thought.
I passed the time away watching television and helping myself to the refrigerator, although these women didn’t share my taste in food at all. I spent a lot of time also carefully going through drawers and closets to get a feel for my victims. They had a pet cat, but the critter took one look at me and disappeared somewhere. I felt fortunate that their pet was a lazy cat and not some fucking pit bull.
I studied every detail about the house, especially the upstairs, where there were three bedrooms, one a master suite, plus a bathroom that served the smaller two bedrooms. One of the smaller bedrooms, which didn’t have much of a lived-in feeling, was obviously a guest room. The other room was Megan’s, decorated as you might expect a sixteen year old girl’s bedroom to be decorated. Except, hadn’t she outgrown teddy bears? Guess not. Over her bed were three shelves crammed full of these silly stuffed animals.
I amused myself quite awhile by examining the contents of her underwear drawer, and then moved on the spacious master bedroom.
Here there was a large, king size bed with night tables on both sides, and two medium sized easy chairs. The furnishings were classy and expensive. Sandra’s ex must have been worth a bunch, or else Sandra McFarland and Associates was doing quite well. My attention, of course, was riveted on the bed. Sandra was a tidy person, having made the bed that morning, in contrast to Megan’s room, which looked like it had been ransacked. I was absolutely giddy over the fact that the metal bed head had a horizontal bar that ran the width of the bed, from post to post. I squinted my eyes and pictured Sandra and her daughter, their wrists handcuffed to that horizontal bar.
I figured that Megan would probably have volleyball practice after school and not arrive home until maybe five o’clock. A reminder note from Sandra to Megan that was stuck on the refrigerator door informed me that the mother would not be home until nearly 7:00 due to her workout class. The note told Megan to get dinner out of the freezer and into the microwave.
The thought occurred that Megan might come home with a friend. Well, that would be okay. As long as it was a girl friend. And as long as I got their fucking cell phones away from them quickly enough. I certainly had enough handcuffs and duct tape in my little bag for a party of three.
About 4:00 pm—quite earlier that I expected—I heard the garage door open.
Megan came in from the garage. She was alone. She was still wearing her catholic school girl uniform: short, pleated, plaid skirt, white blouse with a light weight burgundy sweater. She flung her coat and school bag on the dining room table and went into the kitchen. I hid in a corner of the dining room, from where I could easily view her as I looked into the kitchen underneath a set of overhanging cabinets. The girl opened the fridge and helped herself to some orange juice, then paused to read the instruction note that her mother had stuck to the fridge door. I watched as she then opened the freezer door and withdrew a Tupperware. She then placed this in the microwave and hit the defrost button.
At that moment her cell phone rang. “Hey, what’s ya doin’?” A pause while the person on the other end spoke. “Coach gave us practice off today. Yeah, ‘cause we played, like, totally awesome Monday night, he said we deserved a rest.”
As she spoke on the phone, she picked up her school bag and headed up the stairs. “Coach Brady is so cool. I have, like, this biggest crush on him!.......He is so hot!.......I know he’s married. Like, I care about that!” With that she giggled loudly. She was in her bedroom now, and threw herself onto her bed. I had just made it up the stairs myself and stood outside her door, listening. In my hand was my bag of tricks containing the necessary items that I believed would be needed throughout the time that I would be in this house.
“He touched me! Yes! He did! In the game, he put his hand on my shoulder. I almost fainted. I played like shit afterwards, I couldn’t concentrate on the game……Would I fuck him? Marcy, you are so gross.” She paused. “Of course I’d fuck him! Like, duh!” She giggled uncontrollably. “I mean, like, I gotta loose my stupid virginity one of these days!.....I am serious….Well, of course he’d get in trouble if anyone found out. But nobody would find out. Except you!” More giggles. There was silence as her friend talked on the other end. “Bobby Wilson!?” she then exclaimed. “I don’t want to loose my virginity that bad!” More giggles. “Talk about people finding out, if I let Bobby Wilson in my panties the whole school would know.”
My penis got really hard listening to Megan talk to her friend.
They talked about school and boys for another ten minutes. It started to get a little boring until Megan said something that made my ears prick up. “Hey, I’m going to watch that porno flick you gave me. I gotta watch it now before my mom gets home, duh!....Is it really gross? I’ll learn stuff? Hey, Marcy, I know more than you think I do. I’m not that innocent…OK, call you later. Bye.”
With that Megan got off the bed. Peeking around the door, I could see her putting a DVD into a TV/player on the far side of the room. Then, she turned and skipped toward the door. I flattened myself quickly against the wall and she passed right by me without seeing me out of the corner of her eye on her way to the bathroom.
I took a deep breath, then darted into the girl’s bedroom and hid in a closet, leaving the closet door ajar one inch. This afforded me an unobstructed view of her bed, something I had filed away in my brain while casing the joint during the day.
Soon, Megan came back into the bedroom and plopped again on her bed. One of her teddy bears fell on her from the shelf above her bed. She grabbed it and hugged it. She was still wearing her school uniform, though she must have kicked her shoes off somewhere. The short skirt provided me with a very nice beaver shot of lacey white panties as she sprawled on the bed. The expanse of lovely, smooth thigh that lead to the panties was breathtaking. I’m not sure that I didn’t make a gasping sound from my hiding place in the closet at the sight of those spectacular legs, but if I did, the girl did not hear me.
Megan grabbed the TV’s remote control and turned on the TV and DVD player. Clutching her teddy bear, she watched as the porno flick commenced. Her line of sight went past me to where the TV stood. I could not see the TV from my vantage point, but I could certainly hear it. And the actor and actress did not waste much time on small talk before I could hear the actress moaning as if she was already getting the best fuck she had ever had.
I watched the girl’s expression with the fervor of a scientist observing a pet project. Her eyes and mouth were wide open as she starred with wonder at the tube. “Yes. Yes! Yes!” the actress in the film was crying. “Eat my pussy!” Megan continued to stare at the tube. The only thing wider than her eyes was her mouth, which gaped in disbelief. Holding her teddy bear in her left arm, her right hand slowly found its way under the hemline of her catholic school girl dress, which was easy given the way it was hiked up nearly to her waist.
Megan’s fingers then carefully entered beneath the waistband of her white, lacey panties. She pushed the unwanted undergarment down to give her fingers free access to her virgin pussy. As the porno flick continued to roll—by the sound of it, the woman was now sucking the man’s cock—the girl before me on the bed scooted down into a fully laying position, her head back. She spread her luscious thighs apart to provide her fingers with even better access to her sex. With her left hand that was clutching teddy, she reached for the remote control and turned off the TV. Before my very eyes, sixteen year old Megan Nichols began to masturbate.
The room was quiet now as the teenage girl lay flat on her back on her bed, thighs parted, her fingers moving slowly but deftly against the recently matured womanhood that lay beneath her panties. Something told me she had done this before. She really seemed to know what she was doing. After a few minutes, she impatiently pushed her panties all the way down and off her long, beautiful legs. This allowed her to spread her legs apart easier. Her hand quickly resumed its activity between those fine legs, but not before I got an eyeful of her bare pussy beneath the school girl skirt that now lay hiked around her waist.
“Oh, Coach Brady” I heard her moan as her legs scissored over the sheets of her bed, her eyes shut tightly. “Oh, yes, Coach Brady. Yes, I want you.” Her voice was so soft I could barely make out what she was saying. There was a long pause in her moaning words as her slender fingers began to work more feverishly over her sex.
“No”, she said softly. “No one will ever know. This will be our little secret, Coach Brady. I won’t tell a soul, I promise!”
The girl took her hand away from her pussy. She needed it to help her other hand in pushing her burgundy sweater up around her chin. The teddy bear had long since fallen to the floor, where it stared up stupidly at her. The girl then furiously unbuttoned her blouse and spread it open, then struggled out of her bra, pushing it up around her neck together with her sweater, affording me my first view of her firm and perfectly shaped young breasts.
Her right hand then raced back to a pussy that I could tell from my vantage point some six feet away was quite wet. “Coach Brady!” she exclaimed, her head to her side, her eyes tightly shut. “My, you are so…aggressive! You wanted me, didn’t you? I know you’ve wanted me for a long time. Now…you’re having me!” she cried.
As Megan masturbated vigorously with her right hand, her left hand pushed her sweater all the way up over her head. The left hand then came back down to her breasts and began to massage them as she continued to fuck herself with the fingers of her talented right hand.. “You don’t have to be so rough, Coach Brady!” she moaned.
With the girl’s head effectively covered by the sweater, I stepped gingerly from the cramped closet. Slowly, I moved to edge of the girl’s bed, making no sound, though I don’t think she would have heard a train coming through her room at that moment. I knelt by the bed, my face not three feet from the girl’s writhing body. I watched in amazement as she came to orgasm. Planting her feet on the bed, she arched her back high off the mattress and let out a moan that could have easily been heard downstairs had there been anybody there.
After holding her back arched for the longest moment, the girl suddenly collapsed back onto the bed, and then rolled over to her side, facing away from me, the sweater still covering her face.
I had pulled a pair of handcuffs from my bag of tricks and at this moment quickly pulled the girls arms behind her back and fastened the cuffs to her wrists before she knew what hit her.
Megan squealed in a myriad of passions: shock, disbelief, incomprehension, fear, bewilderment. With her hands now cuffed behind her back, I rolled her onto her back, pinning her arms beneath her, her face still covered by her sweater. I straddled her prone body, a body scantily clad with the wildly disheveled clothes of a catholic school girl. Her shock was so great that after her initial squeal, no sound other than very deep, gasping breaths came from beneath the sweater covering her face.
I was straddling her waist, knees on either side of her of her upper body. Her lovely, exposed breasts were there before me, between my knees, ready for my hands to feel them, to squeeze them. But there was no rush. “Listen to me, Megan,” I said calmly. “If you’re a good girl you don’t have to be afraid, okay?” But there was no response from her. Only her deep, fear laden gasps of air from beneath the sweater. “Look” I continued, “I’m going to take the sweater off your face, okay? You’re going to see me. You’re going to see that I’m a nice guy. I’m a nice guy who’s just here to have some fun, okay?” Still no response. “Megan, nod your head yes. Tell me that when I take the sweater off your head you’re not going to freak out, okay?” I paused. “Okay? I repeated.
Her body remained rigid in fear, but beneath the sweater I detected the slightest nodding of her head. “Okay, then, here goes”. I pulled the sweater downward, to her neck, revealing her beautiful but fear struck face. Tears were streaming down rosy cheeks from eyes wide with fright.
I smiled at her. “Who….what…?” These were the only two words that she could get out.
“Who am I?” I asked the question for her. “I’m a guy who thinks that it’s time for a girl with a body like yours to get fucked.” She looked at me as if she didn’t comprehend what I was saying. My two hands cupped her breasts and squeezed them as our eyes locked, hers wide as an owl’s. She obviously was having trouble even realizing that this was happening. It was priceless.
My hands fondled her exposed breasts, gently at first, and then with a little more pressure, making her nipples extend between my fingers. “Don’t hurt me!” she managed to cry.
“I told you, Megan. You be a good girl and you’ll be okay. Do you understand?”
“How do you know my name?” she gasped.
I now squeezed her breasts hard. She squirmed and grimaced. Staring into her beautiful, blue eyes, I repeated firmly: “Do you understand, Megan? That if you cooperate with me I won’t hurt you? Do you understand?”
I squeezed her tits especially hard. “Ouch”! she cried. “Get off me, you creep!”
I slapped her face hard. Her head fell in the direction of the slap, toward the wall. She lay there motionless, stung by the slap to her face. I stood up and took off my clothes. As I did so, my eyes drank in the marvelous scene before me: a beautiful and sexy sixteen year old blonde, lying stunned on her back on her bed, her arms pinned beneath her back, her legs spread, her skirt in a tangle around her waist high above her exposed pussy. Her blouse was laid open and her bra and sweater were pushed up around her neck, laying bare a pair of firm, youthful tits that were already red from my squeezing of them—a color of red that matched that of her check where she had just received a hard slap.
The girl moaned and turned her head back around to face me. What she saw when she did this was a naked man standing beside her bed. While she had probably at least touched the penises of a boyfriend or two before, I was thinking that this rock hard and upright specimen that was now three feet before her face was probably her first real good look at a male sex organ. Her pouty lips parted as her chin literally dropped. I wish I had had a picture of it.
I climbed on the bed between the girl’s legs. “No” she whined softly. “Look…my mom’s...my…my parents…are going to be home really soon. You’d better get out of here!” There was panic in her voice. This turned me on as much as anything else about her.
I reached under the girl’s ass and lifted her crotch toward my face. She shrieked, as this put more pressure on her back, which was crushing her arms. Holding the girl firmly by her twin ass cheeks, I drew her young cunt to within inches of my face. My eyes devoured her female sex. Then, pressing my face into her crotch as she screamed in protest, it was my mouth that began devouring her female sex.
The sensation of eating freshly masturbated teenage pussy was fantastic. It was sopping wet from her earlier activity and tasted delicious. As I ate her, my tongue penetrating her vagina and tasting its tanginess, the girl struggled against me, but ineffectively. With each of my hands firmly holding an ass cheek, and with my mouth buried as far into her cunt as possible, I looked down the girl’s nude body, past her perky tits and to her very pretty face, which was framed by her wadded up blouse and sweater beneath her chin and her beautiful, long blonde hair cascading over her forehead. Her eyes were shut tight, but her mouth was wide open in a silent scream.
After struggling against me for a long while, the girl at last fell motionless—exhausted, surely—as I continued to ravage her girlhood with my lips, tongue and teeth. And then, almost imperceptibly at first, her lower abdomen actually began to gyrate against my face. Her soft, firm thighs pressed against my cheeks as I buried my face into her pussy. The thought of how hot those legs—legs which were now wrapped around my face—had looked on the volleyball court came rushing through my head and made my cock nearly explode.
I was not sure at first, but before long it became obvious: the little bitch was fucking back against my face with her hot little cunt! What a little whore! It wasn’t too long before her body rocked in the throes of her second orgasm in less than fifteen minutes, only this time, instead of her orgasm being induced by her own fingers, it was induced by the ravaging mouth of a strange intruder. It was all I could do to keep my mouth firmly planted on my lovely victim’s genitals, she bucked so hard.
Although there had been very little friction against my cock—the head of it would bang occasionally against the girl’s back as I held her by the ass and ate her cunt like a watermelon—I also felt that I was on the verge of cumming. Dropping the girl’s ass to the bed, I moved to her head. Grabbing her by the hair and lifting her head with one hand, I pinched her nose shut with my other hand, forcing her to open her mouth to breathe. As she did so, I shoved my swollen cock into her warm, moist mouth.
“Bite me and I’ll kill you!” I hissed.
The young girl, my swollen cock now shoved into her mouth, starred wildly up at me with scarred, wide eyes. Her ruby lips surrounded the thick circumference of my throbbing cock. When I had forced her mouth open, I had noticed for the first time that she wore braces, but they were the non-metallic, tooth colored variety that were hardly visible.
Feeling the moist warmth of her mouth envelop my manhood was priceless. I had masturbated to the thought of this sweet little honey when I had gone to bed the night that I first spotted her in the shopping mall. Now, here she was in the flesh, her tongue on one side of my dick and the roof of her mouth on the other. Holding her head in my hands, I began fucking her delicate, sweet mouth with firm in-and-out thrusts as she struggled beneath me. She quickly began to gag, causing her mouth to contract around my manhood, tripping a mammoth orgasm. With a resounding “Yes!” that caused the bedroom’s windows to rattle, and with our eyes still locked on each other’s, I thrust deeply into the young girl’s oral cavity and shot hot cum into her throat. Her gagging continued, causing my penis to slip out of her mouth. This caused a second squirt of cum to catch her square in the face. Putting one hand on the top of her head and the other beneath her chin, I kept her mouth forced shut. I wanted to make sure that she swallowed all of the cum that had gone into her mouth.
“Swallow!” I hissed at her. She continued to look up at me with her big, blue eyes that would have melted my heart if I had had one. “Swallow!” I repeated, shaking her head roughly. She then took a big gulp. I watched as her neck muscled contracted, and was satisfied that a good quantity of my warm sperm was now on its way down to the stomach of this hot little teen.
I released my grip on her, and then smeared the cum that had landed outside her mouth all over her face and neck. I then fell on top of her, pressing her mostly naked body deep into the mattress, crushing her arms beneath her back. I lay there spent while sixteen year old Megan Nichols, still technically a virgin, lay beneath me, crying softly, her stomach juices already beginning to digest male sperm for the first time in her young life.
“Please… get off me,” she begged a moment later. “You’re really hurting my arms!”
I rolled off her, and she immediately rolled to her side, finally taking weight of her poor arms. As I lay beside her, the strength that had been drained from me when I climaxed was slowly returning. The girl, facing away from me, was quiet. She had quit crying. Slowly, almost absently, my hands began exploring her nubile body. Her body tensed slightly at this, but she didn’t offer any resistance. I pushed her skirt, which had been in a bunch around her waist, down her legs and off her feet. Her blouse, bra and sweater remained in disarray around her upper torso. With her hands cuffed behind her back I could not remove these items. That didn’t matter at the moment.
My hands felt up every inch of Megan Nichol’s hot, young body. As they did so, I recalled the moments I had seen her in public: that first time in the shopping center in her tight jeans, and then at her volleyball game. As my hand traveled up and down her long, smooth, bare legs, I remembered how fantastic, how athletic those legs had looked as she moved around like a tigress on the volleyball court. My cock was re-stiffening now as my hands now groped those nicely muscled legs and ran in between her inviting thighs. I recalled how marvelous her young breasts had looked when pressed against her tight volleyball jersey, and now I was cupping those very tits in my hands, squeezing them, feeling the nipples stiffen between my fingers.
The young teenager was trembling. “Are you going to kill me?”
She was lying on her side in a pre-natal position, her back to me as my hands groped her. Her words were so soft that I barely heard her. “No, sweetheart, I told you. If you’re a good girl, I won’t hurt you. You remember I told you that?” When she didn’t respond, I shook her shoulder. “Do you remember I said that?” I repeated.
“Yes,” she said softly, still facing away from me.
“What I am going to do, Megan, is, I’m going to fuck you.” I paused. “Will that be okay with you?” I was rewarded with a soft gasp from her throat and redoubled trembling in her hot, young body. “You liked it when I ate your pussy. You came all over my face. I bet you’ll like my dick even more.”
“Shut up, Megan!” I continued my fondling that nude body—nude save for the blouse and sweater that continued bunched around her neck and shoulders. “So, far, I think you have been a very good girl. I think you’re a very smart girl. Smart enough to know what’s good for you.” I paused, my hand on the curve of her ass. “I’ll bet you’re an A student, aren’t you, Megan?”
When she didn’t respond, I said, “Megan, part of being a good girl is answering me when I ask you something. Now, I asked if you were an A student.”
This time she nodded her head. I spanked her ass hard. “Speak to me!” I hissed.
“Yes!” she cried.
”Yes I’m an A student!”
“That’s better.” My hands now went between her thighs as she continued lying in her fetal position, her back to me.
“Have you ever been fucked before, Megan?”
Her body tensed, but she said nothing. Patiently, I repeated my question. This time, in a whispered voice that I could hardly hear: “No.”
“You’re a virgin?”
“Yes.” Her voice cracked. She was sobbing quietly.
“Christ,” I said, “I thought kids your age these days were getting it on!”
There was silence in the room. The girl’s sobs were so subdued as to be inaudible. “The boys in that fucking Catholic school must be fucking gay!” I continued. My hand was now reaching around her, fondling her young breasts.
“I don’t think Bobby Wilson is gay,” I said. “Have you gone out with Bobby?”
“How do you…” she started, then stopped.
“How do I know about you and Bobby Wilson? I know a lot about you, Megan. More than you can imagine.” At that point I squeezed one of her breasts hard. She groaned. “And, I’m glad to say, I’m getting to know you now even better!” I played with her nipple that was actually quite erect.
“Hasn’t Bobby tried to get into your panties?”
I waited patiently for her to answer. There was silence for at least ten seconds. Finally, as if she remembered that she had best answer my questions, she said: “Yes. All boys have. Boys are sick! You’re sick!”
I laughed at that. My hand was now feeling her slender neck. After awhile, I asked: “Is your hymen still intact?” This time, after waiting fewer than ten seconds, I removed my hand from her neck and spanked her round ass with force.
“Ouch!” she cried.
“Answer me, you little cunt! Is your fucking hymen still in place?”
“I…I…don’t know!” she cried.
“Well, let’s find out!” With that I rolled the girl onto her back once again, her arms beneath her, and pushed her thighs apart.
“No!” she cried, but my hand was already at the juncture of her legs. With her arms still pinned behind her back, she was powerless to do anything to stop me. She kicked her legs in protest, but that didn’t hinder me from inserting a finger knuckle-deep into her vagina. She threw her head to one side and shut her eyes tightly as this male intruder had his way with her pussy. Her grimaces told me that she felt it when a second finger was introduced into her virgin intimacy.
What was a hymen supposed to feel like, though? I frankly had very little experience with virgins. With my thumb outside on the girl’s lower belly, I pushed my two fingers deeply into her. There was no barrier of any kind that impeded my access.
“Do you stick things up your cunt when you masturbate, Megan?” I asked her as my fingers continued to explore her girlhood. No response. I squeezed her, pushing down on her belly with my thumb, trying to touch the fingers inside her pussy with the thumb. “Do you fucking stick things up your cunt!?”
“Yes!” she cried, squirming beneath me on the bed.
“Good,” I said. “Then you’ll be ready for a real cock!”
As the teenage girl squirmed uncomfortably on the bed, my gynecological examination of her gradually evolved into a regular old finger fucking. Two of my fingers penetrated her tight, wet vagina with in-and-out strokes while my thumb played against her clitoris. My other hand massaged her fine, young breasts. The fear that had engrossed the girl earlier in our encounter was now morphing into humiliation as she threw her head to its side, facing away from me and the indignity of my fingers having their way with her femininity.
“If this were Coach Brady doing this to you, it’d be okay, wouldn’t it, Megan?”
Again the girl gave a sign of surprise, but then she spat: “Coach Brady would kill you for doing this!”
“Oh, a father figure, huh? I thought you wanted to fuck him?”
“Fuck you!” she spat. I had to chuckle at that.
Initially, in her humiliation at being finger fucked by a home invader, the girl’s instincts had been to try to close her legs against this violation. This was fine with me, for it allowed me to feel the pressure of the insides of her luscious thighs as I finger fucked her. After several long minutes of this, however, she more or less gave up any resistance, and I felt her body sag back onto the mattress, her legs relaxing.
“Good girl, Megan,” I said soothingly. “Just relax. Let this happen.” I studied the side of her face as she continued to look away from me, toward the wall. I could see my dried sperm caked on her cheek.
My penis by this time was once again huge and ready for action. I wanted to fuck this girl very badly, and it took will power at this moment not to mount the little bitch and fuck her brains loose. But I wanted to do it in front of her mother. I wanted her mother to watch as her darling little teenage daughter was raped before her very eyes.
I glanced at my watch. It was five thirty. I had been assaulting my victim for over an hour. “When does your mother get home, Megan?” I continued finger fucking the girl as I spoke.
The girl snapped her head around and looked at me. It was the first time she had really established eye contact with me since I had shot my wad in her mouth. “She…she’ll be home really soon. You’d better get out of here!”
“Get out of here?” I replied in mock consternation. “Why, Megan, the party hasn’t even begun. The real party’s when your mom gets here.”
No!” she cried. “Don’t hurt my mom!”
I smiled. “Megan, I’m going to treat you mom the same way I’m treating you. If she’s good, everything will be alright.”
“No! Don’t do this to my mother!” She became hysterical.
Sandra McFarland’s SUV rolled into the garage at 6:15 pm. She strode from the garage into the kitchen in a workout outfit: white cross training shoes, black, tight leotards and a bulky grey sweatshirt two sizes too big for her. She called out for her daughter: “Megan? Are you home, hon?” From my hiding spot I watched her as she checked the microwave. She pressed some buttons and the microwave hummed into action. “Megan?”
I watched as Sandra thumbed through the day’s mail, throwing all but a single envelop into the trash. “Megan? Where are you, babe?”
She put her purse and gym bag on the dinning room table and walked to the foot of the stairs leading up. She saw that the light was on in the upstairs hall. I quickly went to her purse and removed her cell phone, and hid it in my bag of tricks. Earlier in the day I had removed all the internal house phone cords.
“Megan!” she yelled, looking up the stairs.
“Hello, Sandra,” I said. The woman whirled around. At first she might have thought I was a friend of her daughter’s, but she quickly saw I was too old for that. “Who are YOU!?” When I didn’t answer, she said “Where’s my daughter!?”
I shrugged. “The answer to your first question is not important right now. The answer to your second question is: your daughter’s upstairs. She’s waiting for you.”
The woman looked at me dumbly. Slowly, something dawned on her. “Megan?” she cried out, but her voice cracked. Stumbling on weak knees, the woman ran up the stairs two at a time. I quickly followed her, and watched as she ran into Megan’s room. Finding it empty, she ran down the hallway to the master bedroom. As I came after her, the woman had stopped in the doorway of the master bedroom, frozen at the sight she saw.
Her precious teenage daughter’s totally nude body lay on the far side of the large, king size bed. The girl’s arms were above her head, her wrists handcuffed to the horizontal bed head rail. Her ankles were cuffed together, and a round ball gag was stuffed in her mouth, the kind that was used on Bruce Wilson and Ving Rhames in Pulp Fiction.
After a speechless moment, the mother cried out “Megan!” her voice cracking. “Oh, baby! My baby!” She ran to the far side of the bed. Megan looked up at her mother with wide, scared eyes. She mumbled something through the ball gag.
Once she got to the bedside, it was suddenly as if Sandra didn’t know what to do. She clasped her hands together close to her chest, her body shaking uncontrollably. She looked up to see me in the doorway. “You bastard!” she cried. “Have you hurt my baby?!” She lay down beside the girl, as if covering her naked body from my view. She reached for the girl’s wrists that lay stretched above her head, but saw that she was powerless to do anything about the handcuffs that held those wrists firmly to the bed rail.
Sandra pulled the gag from her daughter’s mouth. “Baby, oh my baby, are you okay?” she managed to ask between sobs. The girl did not reply, she only cried softly as her mother hugged her.
The mother then sat up on the bed and again looked at me. An expression of rage and pure, unadulterated hatred rolled across her face like a dark cloud. “What have you done to my daughter?” she demanded.
“She’s still technically a virgin, if that’s what you mean. She does a pretty good blow job, though.” The woman starred at me, speechless. “You’ve done a great job of parenting, Sandra,” I continued. “I mean, let’s face it, there aren’t too many sixteen-year-old virgins out there these days. At least, she says she’s a virgin. I did a gyno exam on her and couldn’t really tell, but then I’m no doctor.”
“Get out of here!” the woman finally commanded, her voice firm.
“Sandra. Come on, we’ve been waiting for you to join the party.”
The woman quickly reached for the bedside telephone. I watched her, a smile on my lips, as she discovered the phone line was dead. She slowly put the phone down and stood. She looked at me like a cornered cat would look at the thing that had cornered it, and I could see the realization dawning on her that she had make a tactical blunder by running into a dead end alley. Instead of hurrying up the stairs and into her bedroom at the first sense of concern for her daughter, she should have attempted an escape from the house while still downstairs. Her instinctive concern for her little girl had simply been too strong, and she hadn’t thought the situation through. And now, Sandra McFarland knew that she was suddenly in a world of trouble.
“Look,” she said calmly, “I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but you can’t get away with this. So why don’t you just go on and get out of her right now? Just go. I won’t even call the police, just get out of here and we’ll pretend this never happened.”
As she was saying this, I walked over to a heavy easy chair that was near the door and moved it over to the door, effectively barricading it. This way I could leave the woman loose in the room, and if she made a run to get out, whatever I was doing I could easily catch her before she managed to move the heavy barricade sufficiently to get through the door.
“I would hate to leave now,” I said as I finished my task. “Before our little party has even started?”
The woman glared at me. If looks could kill, my blood would already have been soaking the bedroom carpet. “A party!” she spat. “Over my dead body!” She then reached for a sheet and pulled it over her daughter, covering the girl’s nakedness.
“Mommy?!” the girl cried.
“That’s okay, baby. Everything’s going to be okay,” Sandra said calmly, but her voice was shaky now. I watched her as her eyes searched the room for a weapon but, unfortunately for her, the interior decorator had apparently not allowed for a hidden gun cache.
I walked toward where the mother stood beside the bed and her prone daughter. I as moved close, the woman attacked me, swinging and kicking violently. This was where I was going to find out if this bitch was a black belt or something. I blocked her blows with little effort and landed a solid punch in her stomach. She went down like a ton of bricks, writhing on the floor at my feet, the wind gone from her lungs. So much for my concern regarding her martial arts training. From the bed, young Megan screamed. This was the first loud utterance she had been able to make since I had stuck the ball gag in her beautiful mouth maybe a half hour earlier.
Sandra lay on the carpeted floor gasping for air. I lay down on top of her. My hands raced under her oversized sweatshirt and groped her breasts through her snug sports bra. I remembered how beautiful she had looked that first moment I had seen her in the mall. How classy and elegant she had been. Here she was now, on the floor of her bedroom, with my eager hands feeling that beauty, that classiness, that elegance.
As Sandra struggled to regain her breathing, I nuzzled her neck, drinking in her scent, her essence. From the bed I could hear Megan sobbing.
The woman squirmed desperately beneath my weight. She got an arm free from my grasp and swung at my face, but it was a weak attempt that did not land. I allowed her to struggle, wanting her to wear herself out. Finally I put my entire weight upon her, effectively pinning her to the carpeted floor; however, the bitch sank her teeth into my forearm. I cursed in pain, and then slapped her solidly in the face with the hand of my other arm, causing her jaws to go limp and allowing me to yank my forearm away from her fucking teeth.
I then elbowed her hard in her stomach, knocking newly regained air out of her lungs and leaving her a helpless mass of flesh beneath my weight.
“You fucking bitch!” I hissed at her, my mouth close to her ear. “Listen up, sweetheart. I’m going to fuck the shit out of you and your little girl do you understand me?” She grimaced in pain beneath me as my hands ravaged her body beneath her clothes. I fisted her hair and pulled the back of her head toward her shoulders. This pushed her chin up and left her bare neck exposed to my other hand. The fingers of my other hand encircled her neck. “Do you hear me, honey? I would have fucked little Megan already, but I wanted you to have the honor of watching me do it! Anyway, if you two behave real well, I promise I won’t hurt either of you too badly. Do you understand?”
From the bed I could her Megan’s sobs. Still gasping and cringing in pain, Sandra was slowly regaining the ability to speak. As my weight lay upon her, pinning her to the floor, she gasped, “Okay, okay, look” she gasped. “Do what you want to do with me, but please, don’t touch my daughter. I beg you.” She said this almost whispering in my ear, quietly, so her daughter would not hear.
“Yeah?” I said, kissing her eyes, tasting the saltiness of the tears that had formed there.
“Yes,” she whispered, still gasping for air. “I’ll do whatever you want, just leave my little girl alone. She’s only sixteen for god’s sake!”
“Will you suck my cock?” I whispered back to her.
There was a pause. Breathing deeply, her pulse rushing, her face flushed red, the woman winced visibly. “Yes! Anything. Just leave her alone. Please. Oh, for the love of god, please!!”
“Will you spread your legs for me like a whore?”
Sandra’s face contorted in a tight grimace. My hand squeezed her breast hard through the sports bra. “Yes.” Her voice was a whimper.
“Yes what? Say it,” I whispered to her as my tongue licked her ear, penetrating her ear as far as it could. “Say ‘I’ll be your whore’”. My hand squeezed her tit hard through the sports bra.
Her face still in its tight grimace, she repeated after me in a hoarse whisper, “I’ll be your whore”.
As I continued to pin her to the floor with my body and my left arm, my right hand forced its way underneath the sports bra and took possession of the soft flesh of her breast. Totally, one hundred percent natural tit. No silicone here. What one saw—and felt—was what one got.
“But not in front of her,” the woman gasped as my hand roughly massaged her tit and pinched her nipple. “Take me to another room. Please. I’m begging you for the love of god. I’ll give you anything you want, but not in front of my little girl!” With that she began to cry, tears streaming down her cheeks.
My hand left her tit and roamed down her flat stomach, and then worked its way under the waist band of the lycra leotards. As she squirmed beneath me, my fingers quickly found her womanhood. I kissed her neck as my index finger deftly entered her pussy. My knee was planted firmly between her legs, preventing her from closing them and denying this assault upon her sex.
“Okay,” I whispered, my face pressed against hers. “We’ve got a deal. You be a good girl and fuck me real good, I don’t touch your daughter. I mean, you fuck me back like I’m your goddamned boyfriend or something, and your little girl gets to keep her virginity. Okay?”
Sandra nodded her head in agreement, her body shuddering beneath me. I sent a second finger into her cunt, and pressed inward with force. She cried out in shock. “Is that a ‘yes’”? I demanded.
“Yes!” Her voice was so weak I could hardly hear her, though her lips were only inches from my ears.
“I can’t hear you”, I said.
“Yes!” she hissed.
With that, I shoved a third finger into her as far as it and the other two would go. Sandra’s body jerked, and she yelped in shock.
“Mom!” Megan cried from the bed. “What’s he doing to you!?”
“Nothing, baby!” her mother cried back. Her eyes were wide open in fear as she stared up toward the ceiling, feeling my fingers exploring the depths of her womanhood.
“You’re going to be a great piece of ass, baby, do you know that?” Our eyes locked as my fingers probed her depths. Her wild breathing had calmed somewhat, but the look of fear and hatred in her eyes were there to stay.
Slowly I removed my fingers from her cunt, then withdrew my hand from beneath her leotards. She watched me as I licked my fingers. I then stood. My penis was huge inside my pants. I stepped back, not wanting her to try to land a kick anywhere close to the jewels.
I looked over to where Megan lay on the bed, her naked body now covered with the sheet. Her sobbing had subsided. She stared back at me with wide, frightened eyes. I smiled and winked at her.
I looked back at her mother on the floor, disheveled with her sweatshirt hiked up, slowing her flat tummy, and her leotards pushed down on her hips. “Get up!” I commanded. Slowly, Sandra obeyed me. She now stood six feet from me. “Take off your clothes!”
The woman stared at me in an uncomprehending way. “But…but…” she stuttered. “Not here,” she said weakly. “Not in front of….” Her voice trailed off.
“Take off your fucking clothes!” I yelled.
“Nooo!” she cried. “Not here!”
I walked over to the foot of the bed and yanked the sheet off Megan’s naked body. Both the girl and her mother gasped. “Take your clothes off, bitch, or little Megan here pays the price!”
Sandra’s jaw dropped as she stared at me in disbelief. She acted as if she were frozen. I took another step until I was standing beside her daughter’s head. I grabbed a handful of the girl’s long, blonde hair and lifted her head off the mattress.
“No!” her mother screamed. I stared at her, still holding her daughter’s head by the hair. The girl’s body writhed on the bed, her knees tightly together, her ankles bound with handcuffs. With eyes tightly shut, the girl seemed to be testing the shackles that were binding her wrists to the horizontal bar at the head of the bed, only to confirm that she was, indeed, being firmly held in place.
Then, more softly, the girl’s mother again said “No. Leave her alone”, and with that her hands went to her sweatshirt. I continued to hold the girl’s head by her hair as her mother slowly pulled the sweatshirt up and over her head. Holding the sweatshirt in her hand, her sports bra slightly askew but still containing her breasts, Sandra stared defiant daggers at me. I saw for the first time that a trickle of blood ran from the corner of her mouth where I had slapped her. She let the sweatshirt drop to the floor at her feet. “Get away from her!” she hissed.
I let the girl’s head drop to the mattress and stepped away. I then nodded to the woman to continue. Slowly, Sandra leaned down and took her cross training shoes off, together with the ankle height white socks on her feet. Standing straight again, her face was flushed from having bent over. I was fascinated by her beauty. “You’re gorgeous when you’re mad,” I said, but Sandra only stared at me as if I were some sort of despicable scum. Imagine that!
I looked to see if Megan was watching, but her head was turned away and her eyes had shut. Looking back at her mother, I didn’t have to tell her to continue this time. Slowly, with telltale tears now trickling down her cheeks, she pushed her leotard downward over her hips and let it drop to the floor, and then stepped out of it.
Sandra now stood before me clad only in her sports bra and panties. They were black and contrasted nicely with her smooth skin. She stood defiantly before me. Her shoulders were squared back like an army officer’s, but were caressed by the type of dark blonde hair that few army officers possess. The same hair cascaded around her tear and blood stained face, framing it beautifully. Her erect bearing was the very essence of dignity amid what was for her an unspeakable crisis. She looked spectacular.
“Turn around,” I told her. Slowly, knowing she had no choice, she did as I commanded. From the rear she looked equally stunning. My eyes travelled from her feet up the back of her legs, pausing where her panties hugged the buns of her well toned ass. I could tell this woman worked out a lot. My eyes continued up her back. Her hair looked very sexy from the rear.
“Lose the bra!” I told her. The woman hesitated only a moment. Tentatively, as she stood with her back to me, she reached behind her back and my eyes watched in fascination as her fingers undid the clasp that held her bra straps together. Slowly she let the black undergarment fall to the floor, leaving her long, graceful back naked before my eyes.
Then it seemed that she was waiting for further instructions. “Go on! What the fuck are you waiting for!” With no hesitation now, she quickly pushed her panties off her hips and slid them down her lovely legs.
Sandra now stood naked before me, her back to me. I turned my head to see if her daughter was watching. She was not. Her head lay facing away from us. “Hey, Megan,” I said, “You should hope you look this good when you’re your mom’s age.”
“Don’t you even talk to her you fucking pervert!” the mother hissed vehemently as she faced away from me. Chuckling, I turned my attention back to her.
“Put your hands behind you head!” My voice was firm, menacing. She obeyed me. “Now… keep your hands where there are…and turn around…slowly.”
A long hesitation followed. “I said ‘slowly’, I didn’t mean like a fucking snail!” I snarled.
With great reluctance showing in her body language—her naked body language--the woman did as I commanded, turning on her heels, steadily keeping her balance with her hands behind her head, until she faced me. She glanced quickly in her daughter’s direction—undoubtedly to see if the girl was seeing her mother in this moment of total humiliation and indignity. I followed her glance and saw that Megan’s head was still turned away from us. She was sobbing softly.
“You should look at your mother, Megan,” I said. “You should hope you’re this hot and beautiful in twenty years.” I turned back to Sandra, who stood naked before me with her hands behind her head. “Put your feet wide apart!” My voice was shaking with lust.
Sandra glared daggers of hatred at me. “You…fucking…bastard!” Her words came in staccato bites through clenched teeth. “You fucking miserable piece of shit!” She spit the words so hard that spittle now trickled down her chin, joining tears that were now rolling down her cheeks freely.
“Some of what you say is true,” I replied. “I might be a piece of shit, and I definitely will be fucking very soon. But I’m not a bastard. My father actually married my mother. And I’m definitely not miserable. I’m enjoying myself immensely”.
The woman did not seem to find my wit amusing. “Spread your feet apart like I said, or Megan here is going to get my fist up her vagina.”
With no other choice, the woman slowly obeyed my command, moving her left foot well away from her right one. Her eyes went off into space over my shoulder. Tears streaming down her face gave lie to a certain defiant bearing that she was trying desperately to maintain as she stood helpless in the presence of an attacker who held all the cards.
My eyes devoured her as she stood there before me in full frontal nudity, hands behind her head, legs spread. This woman was definitely still in her prime. Her breasts, nicely lifted by the way her arms were positioned, were exquisite. I knew from groping them earlier that they were real. Her tummy had the firmness and flatness of an athlete. A small tuft of blonde pubic hair was like a halo at the juncture between her spread legs. My mind raced back to that afternoon four days prior when I first spotted her and her daughter in the shopping mall where they both stood out from the throng of other shoppers with their beauty and grace. And now I had both of these exquisite females naked and under my control! The blood rushing to my penis left me somewhat weak in the knees as I began to unbutton my shirt.
The woman watched me like a caged animal as I began to take off my own clothes. With her hands still behind her head and her feet still spread wide apart as she stood maybe eight feet in front of me, I saw her glance desperately around the bedroom, searching for something. Anything. But there was nothing that could save her. After removing my shirt I lowered my pants and underwear together, allowing my massive penis to gain its freedom and stand erect in all its unfurled glory. The woman took a furtive glance at my manhood, but then her eyes shot back up quickly to meet mine. There was an intoxicating look of fear and hatred in those eyes.
It was when I was stepping out of my pants that she sprang. With three quick steps she was at the bedside table from which she grabbed a tall, sturdy reading lamp. Half out of my pants, I stumbled before I could get to her. Yanking the lamp from the table, pulling its cord from the wall socket as she did so, she stepped toward me, swinging the lamp at my head violently. I ducked and the vicious blow missed my head by inches. The bitch would have killed me had that blow landed. At the very least I would have been knocked senseless and wouldn’t have awakened until a SWAT team was dragging my ass off to fifty years in the state pen and the receiving end of butt rape.
The momentum of her forehand miss left Sandra off balance a split second, just enough time for me to tackle the bitch as she was getting ready to let me have it with a backhand swing. She and I and the lamp went crashing into the wall, over tuning the small bedside table. We rolled to the floor. She scratched the shit out of my shoulder before I was able to subdue her with my strength, and for the second time pin her to the floor, my naked body pressing against her now naked body. From the bed, Megan cried.
I slapped Sandra’s face viciously and her body went limp under mine. “Okay, sweetheart,” I panted as I held her wrists to the floor. “Just for that, I’m going to fuck the living shit out of your little girl. She’s going to be a quivering, crying mass of shit when I’m done with her!”
“No!” she cried beneath my crushing weight. “No, no, please, I´m sorry!” She was sobbing uncontrollably, gasping for breath. “I’m so sorry!”
“We had a deal, bitch. It was either going to be you or the girl, and now it’s going to be the girl!”
“NO!” she shrieked. Slowly she regained some composure but was still unable to mouth more than monosyllables. “Please…take me…I’ll do…I’ll do whatever….I’m so sorry.”
My hands ravished her naked body as she now lay docilely beneath me. “You’re ‘sorry’, huh?” I sneered. “Show me, bitch! Show me how sorry you are.”
Her crying subsided as I guess a wave of acceptance flowed over her. With a numb expression on her face, she began to rub her thigh against my swollen penis. She looked me squarely in the eyes as she did this, her own eyes swollen from crying, her cheek glowing red from my hard slaps. I lowered my mouth to hers. She did not avoid my kiss. She didn’t exactly kiss me back, but she didn’t press her lips totally together, either. My lips caressed hers as she continued to rub my penis with her thigh.
“If you bite my tongue,” I whispered into her ear, “I will perform a double mastectomy on your daughter, do you fucking understand me? I have the knife in my bag.”
The woman nodded quickly in agreement as she continued to rub my throbbing cock with her thighs, and press it between her knees. Our eyes again locked for a moment, and then I lowered my mouth to hers. Her lips were parted for breathing purposes, and my tongue shot easily into her mouth and went exploring as I held her two wrists with one hand and used my other hand to massage her tits.
As I French kissed her, Sandra wiggled her wrists as an indication for me to release my grip there, and when I did, her hand trailed down my body until her fingers found my penis and encircled it.
I drew my face back and looked at her. The expression on my face informed her in no uncertain terms not to try any funny stuff with the family jewels. She merely stared back up at me as I hovered over her prone body, a blank, non-committable look on her face. The tears from her red, swollen eyes had diminished to a trickle. She began to masturbate me. Our eyes remained locked. “Just leave my daughter alone,” she said softly, her voice cracking. “Please. I’m begging you.”
The room became so quiet that the girl on the bed called out in a frightened voice: “Mother? W-w-what’s happening?! Are you okay?”
“Everything’s okay, baby,” Sandra said, not taking her eyes off mine as she slowly masturbated me. “Everything’s going to be okay.” With one of her hands continuing to stoke my cock, her other hand cupped my balls. As she did this, my own hands went around her neck and my eyes riveted on hers. She did not misinterpret the meaning of the fingers around her neck. One false move with the valuable cargo that she now held in her hands and she would be one very sorry woman indeed. She understood the situation quite well. With one hand she squeezed my balls only ever so slightly, while her other hand continued to masturbate my pulsating penis. “Everything is going to be okay,” she whispered to me as she worked. “Isn’t it.” This was not a question.
“That’s up to you, sweetheart” I said softly. “So far you’re doing a vey good job. You want to keep me happy. A blow job right now would keep me happy.”
Sandra looked at me devoid of any expression. Our eyes remained locked until she began to scoot her body downward. I took my weight off her to allow her to slide her naked body downward beneath mine. Her tongue licked a trail down my chest as I rolled onto my back on the carpet and spread my legs for her. She was holding my balls in one hand and my swollen cock in the other as her mouth neared my manhood. Her lips parted and she took my penis into her soft, warm, moist mouth.
“Remember the knife in my bag, Sandra. You want your daughter to keep her tits, don’t do anything foolish.”
My hands fisted her hair as she proceeded to suck my cock in what actually became a very fine blow job. She was a woman on a mission—the mission of saving her teenage daughter from being raped. I did not, however, allow myself the luxury of getting totally lost in the pleasure of what she was doing to me, because I obviously did not fully trust her. My forearm still smarted from her ferocious bite, and my shoulders bore ugly scratch marks from her nails. She might have tried ripping my cock off with her teeth at any moment, and I was prepared to smash her in the head if I felt the slightest aggressiveness with those teeth.
Instead, she was really being a good girl, taking my swollen dick in and out of her mouth in rhythmic motions that were stunningly erotic. I ran my fingers through her hair as her head bobbed up and down. These motions, combined with the knowledge that my cock was in the mouth of a woman believing that what she was doing was saving her daughter from rape, was a turn-on beyond all proportions. The daughter, meanwhile, tied to the bed and not able to see us but obviously hearing some slurping sounds coming from the floor beside the bed, would from time to time cry out to her mother, “Mom, are you okay? What’s he doing!?” To which each time her mother would reply, taking my cock out of her mouth just long enough to talk soothingly to her daughter. “Everything’s okay, baby. Don’t worry. I’m fine.” After each reassurance, the mother would open her warm, wet mouth and once again envelop the penis of her daughter’s would-be rapist, trying desperately to distract him from any notions he might entertain regarding her precious little girl.
After enjoying her blow job for awhile longer, I at last rolled Sandra onto her back and began fucking her mouth in downward motions. “Keep your teeth out of the way!” I hissed as my cock rammed the roof of her mouth and on several inward strokes reached half way down her throat. The girl on the bed now heard her mother gurgling and gagging loudly. “Mommy?” she cried. But now her mommy couldn’t respond because mommy was no longer in control of her mouth and that which invaded it. “Mommmmy!” The combination of hearing the teenager’s cries and feeling the warmth and wetness of her mother’s mouth surrounding my cock was bringing me to the point of orgasm. I thought briefly about ramming my cock deep down Sandra’s throat and exploding my cum halfway down her esophagus, but instead I suddenly withdrew completely. This woman’s body had other orifices that deserved my attention.
Gagging and gasping, Sandra took huge gulps of air once I pulled my penis from her mouth. Her breasts rose and fell, flattening against my chest on each inhalation. Her nose was running from so much crying that she really needed to have her mouth open to breath, and she definitely was concentrating more on getting air into her lungs than she was on the fact that I was now spreading her thighs apart and positioning the head of my swollen cock at the gate of her womanhood. When she felt the tip of my penis nose its way into the folds of her vagina, Sandra came back to life. “Please,” she cried weakly as she looked down her body to her widely spread legs and to my engorged penis. “Can you at least use a condom?”
I laughed out loud at that. “Sorry, Sandra. Damn if I didn’t remember to pack rubbers!”
A look of abject hatred flashed from Sandra’s eyes as she realized I was ready to slide my manhood into the folds of her fear-shrunken vagina and there was nothing she could do about it. Thankfully for her there was the abundant lubricant of her saliva on the thing. Her eyes shut tightly as she felt the tip of my cock push aside the outer lips of her femaleness. I paused for a couple seconds to relish the moment—that I was about to fuck that hot woman I spotted in the shopping mall just a few days ago—and then plunged fully into her. She gasped as I did so, and then, when I paused again, now with my cock buried deep within her, she began to weep.
¨What’s the matter, bitch?” I spoke into her ear, my voice cracking with lust as I felt the walls of her vagina clinging to my manhood. “Aren’t you on birth control?”
She did not respond. She merely wept softly. I took her chin between my fingers and pointed her face toward mine that hovered over her. “Answer me, bitch. Are you on birth control?”
“No!” she cried.
“Haven’t been getting laid much lately, huh,” I said, and with that began to fuck her hard. My cock pumped her, possessing every inch of her womanhood. She was mine! The elegant, sophisticated Sandra McFarland was being my bitch!
Her pussy was tight, contracted as it was with the fear that any woman feels when she is being raped. I felt this tightness gripping my cock. It made for a fantastic sensation that validated my suspicion that rape would be a lot more fun than sex with a willing partner!
I proceeded to fuck her slowly for I don’t know how long, pressing her body against the firm carpeted floor, riding that delicate balance between the edge of coming and holding back. Gradually, the force with which I fucked her increased. Before long I was giving her solid thrusts that rocked her body, causing her to emit soft grunts, similar to those noises that female tennis players make when hitting the ball. Occasionally her daughter would call out for her, but the woman could barely breathe beneath my onslaught, let alone continue to offer the reassuring words to the girl that she had been voicing since I had first dragged her to the floor.
I put my face close to hers as my cock went in and out of her. “Come on, Sandra,” I said softly into her ear. “Fuck me back, honey. Let me feel you fucking me back.”
Her eyes remained tightly shut. “Stop calling me by my name,” she protested wearily.
“OK, you fucking slut whore. Fuck me!”
Slowly, with palpable reluctance, she did begin to grind her body against mine, to meet my thrusts with upward parries of her own, increasing the depth of penetration of each inward plunge into her vagina. “Good girl,” I whispered into her ear. “That’s a good girl, sweetheart. Yeah….fuck me back…just like this.”
I became gradually aware of something. I could feel that, against her mental will, physically her body—precisely, that particular part of her body that lay between her legs and was being pounded by a male’s penis—was, in fact, responding to the sexual stimulation. I could feel—and could hear from the suction sounds that now emanated from our mutual genitals, that her pussy was self-lubricating. Certainly her saliva that had initially lubricated my cock had dissipated. This new wetness that I felt had to be pussy juice! The bitch was hating this but was stimulated by it at the same time. Fabulous!
Her eyes remained shut as we fucked. My hands were pinning her wrists to the floor on either side of her neck. “Tell me, sweetheart,” I said as I nibbled at her neck, smelling her essence. “You must be a horny little bitch, aren’t you? Divorced and all. When was the last time you got laid?” I waited for an answer as our bodies moved together in a horizontal love dance, but Sandra remained silent beneath me as she moved her hips in rhythm against mine. “I mean it, baby. Tell me when the last time was you had a fucking cock!?”.
“Fuck you,” she murmured. Her voice reeked of weary defeat.
I lifted my torso off hers. “I mean it, bitch. Tell me when the last time was that you got laid!” My cock went in and out of her as I said this. More tellingly, my hands encircled her neck once again.
Without opening her eyes, she said, “I haven’t….not since…I kicked my husband out…out of the house….” She said this while continuing to meet my thrusts with slow, twisting movements of her own pelvis.
”How long ago was that?”
Eyes closed, she responded: “Six months ago.”
“Why did you kick him out?”
“None of your fucking business!”
“Megan’s none of my business, either, right?”
She shuddered beneath me. “He was cheating on me, okay?”
“Cheating on you with who?”
“What does it fucking matter?!” The flow of her tears began anew as she sobbed beneath me.
Screw it. I began pumping her harder, turned on by this classy woman who, outmatched as she was physically, was therefore, as a protective mother, sacrificing her own body, using the only weapon at her disposal, her own sexual favors, in a desperate bid to sexually satiate a rapist and thereby keep him, she probably thought, from having the stamina to later assault her virgin teenage daughter. The thought of this was a huge turn on for me, and I felt my penis strong and large inside this heroic woman’s body.
I forced my arms between her spread thighs and, with my shoulders, pushed them upward until her legs were raised high into the air. If Megan was looking in our direction, her mother’s calves and wide spread feet, now dangling in the air, would have undoubtedly been visible to her.
Visions of Sandra flooded my memory as I fucked her: the vision of her waiting patiently for her daughter at the shopping mall. Of her high fiving other mothers at the volleyball match. Of her sashaying past me on her way to work in her office building. Of her sucking my cock only minutes before. Beneath me now on the floor, she shed the tears of a ravished, taken woman. I knew that had it not been for my ability to blackmail this woman with the threat of raping her daughter, she would have fought me to the very end, and our encounter could have turned into a much uglier one for her.
After awhile I put my weight on my elbows and knees, taking my weight off her. Her legs fell, and her heels planted on the small of my back. I stopped moving, letting her now do the work. Beneath me, my victim continued to slowly bump and grind. I stared down at her in fascination, feeling my cock go in and out of her pussy as she moved beneath me. What she lacked in true passion she made up for with the fierce determination of protecting her little girl. It was a heart rendering performance—for anyone who had a heart. For me, it was a cock hardening performance.
It was also a testicle draining performance. I could feel that I was on the verge of orgasm. It seemed that Sandra could sense it. She increased the vigor of the bumps and grinds of her pubic region against mine, wanting to make me come, wanting me to finish—finish so that I would achieve what I came for and get the hell out of her house!
For that reason, at that moment I abruptly pulled out of her. I got up, kneeling between her spread legs that had now fallen limply to the floor. The woman’s eyes flickered open questioningly. She saw as I reached for my bag of tricks, from which I pulled another set of handcuffs, and before she could react, I slapped the cuffs on her wrists in front of her body. “What are you doing?” she shrieked.
I stood, and then fell back in a sitting position on the bed, my knees too weak to stand. On the bed, Megan was starring at me in horror. Her eyes took in my shinny, rock-hard cock that swung in the air. She gasped, speechless.
“Get the fuck out of here now!” It was Sandra crying from the floor. I reached down and grabbed her by the handcuffs that held her wrists together in front of her naked body. I used these to yank her off of the floor. She protested as I flung her roughly onto the bed, where she landed next to the prone and outstretched body of her naked daughter.
“You fucking bastard!” Sandra screamed as I pulled her arms upward and refastened the handcuffs so that her wrists were now bound to the horizontal bed head rail in the exact manner of her daughter. She kicked violently with her free legs. I had to watch out for them. “You miserable fucking bastard!” she screamed.
I ignored her. I was taking in a marvelous sight. Mother and daughter, both gorgeous, naked and terrified, both lying on their backs side by side, their arms outstretched over their heads, their wrists shackled to the horizontal bar of the bed head. They were monumentally beautiful.
“I want Megan to witness the rest of this,” I said, my voice husky with lust. “I want her to watch her mommy getting fucked!”
I was ready to mount the mother again, but now, obviously, our deal was off. She was a smart woman and I think that she at that moment realized in despair that there never really was a deal, that I had just been stringing her along. Imagine that! If you can’t trust your rapist, whom can you trust?
In any event, this meant that she was no longer going to willingly allow me to mount her. She kicked out at me with her legs in a fashion that would put a mule to shame. She was trying desperately to land a kicking blow to my testicles. I had no choice but to bring a solid punch downward into her belly, followed by a stunning slap to the face. Beside us, daughter Megan screamed in terror.
The girl’s mother was no longer in a condition to offer resistance. She was too concerned with efforts to draw breath back into her lungs. It was easy for me to crawl in between her now limp legs. I even took the time to shove a pillow under her ass, lifting the angle of her pussy upward to better receive me.
I was through with all the preliminaries. They had been a load of fun, but my lust level now required sating. I hovered over the still stricken woman—she was still gasping for breath—and ran my arms underneath her thighs, forcing them wide apart. I looked down and, without using my hands, visually guided the tip of my engorged penis to the lips of her pussy. She was unable to deny me. Slowly, my cock slid into her still wet canal. I went all the way into her in one motion. When I felt I was to the hilt, I pushed inward even harder. I was so deep that I was surprised the tip of it didn’t come out her wide open mouth—wide open in its frantic bid for oxygen.
I looked over and was pleased to see that Megan was watching. She appeared to be in shock, a condition that may have made it impossible for her to look away, despite how badly she may have wanted to.
I turned my attention back to her mother, whom I began to fuck very hard. The bed springs resounded. Very quickly I felt my ejaculation coming, and when it did, I buried my cock as deeply into my victim as anatomically possible. I ceased my movements and so that I could better feel the full effect of the spasms that sent my hot sperm squirting into the depths of her womanhood. She had mostly recovered from the effects of my blows by now, and her head swung violently back and forth on the mattress in futile defiance, her face a tight grimace of frustration and humiliation at the fact that her rape had been fully consummated.
I kept myself inside her for the longest while, basking in the glow of my conquest, feeling the sweat of both our bodies, feeling the rage that—despite her present state of tired surrender—coursed palpably through her veins. At last I rolled off her, my now semi-flaccid penis sliding form her wet cunt. My body came to rest, facing upward, lying between the two beautiful, naked women.
I lay for a long while simply savoring the situation. The room was quiet. My two companions lay beside me, all three of us on our backs, all of us motionless. Sandra and I were both physically spent, while Megan undoubtedly was emotionally exhausted. Neither of the women was straining anymore against the shackles that bound their wrists to the cross bar of the bed head. They obviously realized the futility of it, and it certainly caused them pain if they persisted. The only noises the two made were sniffles, as both their noses were clogged with snot from so much crying. It seemed that both were too tired, too scared, too defeated, too humiliated to voice anything at this point.
My penis was now a shriveled relic of its former self, having been thoroughly satiated and satisfied with its masterful performance on Sandra McFarland. I stared at the ceiling, a big, fat grin of contentment on my face. I still had business with Megan which would require a once again fully operational cock, but there was no rush. I had plenty of time for the big guy to rest and restore himself.
After awhile I idly let an arm fall on each of the women who lay on either side of me. Both their bodies tensed when I did so. I chuckled. Lazily, my hands began playing over their respective naked bodies.
“Please leave us alone now.” Sandra’s voice was weak, almost inaudible. “Please,” she continued. “You’ve gotten what you wanted. For the love of god, I’m begging you. Please. Please go away…”
My response to her entreaty was to run my right hand gently down her trim belly, beneath her navel, my fingers playing softly against her smooth skin. When I reached her recently fucked pussy, my fingers caressed her clitoris. She offered no resistance in the way of closing her thighs, undoubtedly thinking what the hell did it matter by now!
Meanwhile, my left hand traveled down the lovely body of daughter Megan. The teen tensed up, but just like her mother, made no attempt to roll away or otherwise avoid my touch. What would have been the use of that? While the fingers of my right hand played with the pussy of her mother, the fingers of my left hand now found Megan’s genitals and began to gently rub her in this most intimate region.
I lazily finger fucked mother and daughter for several minutes. Megan remained fairly docile by my left side as I did this, but Sandra, on my right, began squirming and kicking in frustrated anger. She began cursing me. She was finding renewed strength, apparently. After several minutes of listening to her bitching, I had had enough. I got up and searched for the ball gag that had been in Megan’s mouth when her mom first came into the room. I found it discarded on the floor by Megan’s side of the bed. I retrieved it, and then walked around the bed to Sandra’s side, once again in awe at the sight of the two beautiful, naked females shackled there side by side.
Sandra eyed me with a hate filled look as I approached her with the ball gag. Mindful of her unbound feet, I cautiously came around close to the head of the bed where the angle was such that she could not kick at me. I grabbed her head to apply the gag. She attempted to resist, but unfortunately for her was powerless to do so. All I had to do was pinch her nostrils shut and then shove the thing into her open mouth, which was her only means of breathing.
I wasn’t through with her. I had had enough of her kicking legs. Taking a four foot length of rope from my bag, I grabbed one of the woman’s knees and tied an end of the rope around it, then tied the other end of the rope to the other knee. Struggling against her resistance, I then hooked the rope over the woman’s head. This caused her legs to bend at the knees, leaving her knees close to her tits and her feet dangling in the air. She looked like a turkey trussed and ready for the oven.
I then assumed a sitting position on the bed between the two naked females, both with their arms outstretched above their heads, wrists bound to the head board, the older one with her legs trussed upward, immobile, her knees resting beside her tits, the ball gag firmly in her mouth; the younger one with her legs straight, her ankles bound by cuffs.
I felt like a child who had broken into a candy store and sat proudly among pounds of chocolate that he had scattered on the floor, and spent the next half hour playing with their bodies. My hands roamed simultaneously over their respective bodies, from their foreheads to their feet as they squirmed uncomfortably at my touch. I spent a lot of time with their tits, fondling and massaging them and marveling at how similar they felt. Megan’s, certainly, were younger and slightly firmer, but if I had been conducting a blind test, it would have really been difficult to tell which pair of breasts were who’s.
It is amazing how a woman has no control over the way her nipples react when her breasts are properly massaged. While she is being raped, a woman’s cunt may contract in fear, but the nipples have a mind of their own. Megan and her mom were proving to be no exception. As I massaged and pinched their respective nipples, both grew in size and hardness. At one point I laid between them and my hungry mouth went back and forth, sucking hard on their tits likes a starving baby, only pulling on their taunt nipples much more than a toothless baby would have. I did not stop until I heard sharp cries of pain from both of them. My mouth then left their nipples and took a circular trip, sucking deeply on the soft flesh of their respective breasts, leaving a circle of bright red hickies around both women’s areolas.
As I sucked their tits, the fingers of one hand went into Sandra’s cunt, entering her from below her raised thighs and feeling the wetness there from her having been recently fucked, while the fingers of my other hand went into Megan’s still-virgin teenage cunt. I proceeded to finger fuck both mother and daughter simultaneously. Good old fingers! My cock was temporarily out of commission, but one could count on fingers to never get soft.
I talked to them as I finger fucked them and sucked their tits, but they ignored me. They both lay there, quiet and docile now, as my hands, fingers and mouth ravished them both. They had apparently both reached a stage of utter fatigue. Even Sandra had become quiet and subdued behind the ball gag in her mouth. She had obviously been destroyed by the realization that her strategy had backfired, that, in my treachery, I was indeed going to rape her daughter. This amused me greatly.
Not too much further time passed before I felt life once again stirring in my manhood. Blood was returning to the flaccid phallus. The time had come. I was almost ready for Megan.
I had gotten off the bed and stood by the young girl’s side, looking down at where she lay. With frightened eyes she looked back up at me. I ran my finders through her long blonde hair, while beside her on the bed her mother went berserk, fighting against her bonds, mouthing inaudible protests behind the ball gag. Ignoring the mother, I watched the teen carefully as she squirmed at the touch of my fingers in her hair. I liked the way she did that. My penis was still not quite hard enough to fuck her, but it was getting there. The site of her naked body squirming under the touch of my hands and the stare of my lustful eyes would make certain of that.
I took two keys from my bag of tricks and unlocked both sets of the girl’s handcuffs, those that held her wrists to the bed board and the others that bound her ankles. Though she was freed from the shackles, the girl found that her arms and legs were so numb that she could barely move them. I knew that I no longer needed to have her bound, which was a good thing because I wanted to be able to move her limbs around freely into any positions that pleased me. The girl was broken, completely demoralized, and would offer no further resistance. She was now was putty in my hands.
I pulled her away from the position that she had been occupying for the past couple of hours and rolled her over onto her stomach like a rag doll. My hands enjoyed the feel of her bare skin once again as I now manhandled her body into a position between her mother’s raised and spread legs. Sandra glared wide eyed at me as I did this, her two eyes and the ball gag in her mouth making a symmetrical triangle of round shapes staring at me. I threw the girl down so that her face fell upon her mother’s bare tummy. The woman gave a sound that one makes when punched in the stomach, but the sound was muffled by her gag. I then pulled he girl downward so that her face slid directly onto mommy’s wet pussy. I pressed the girl’s face into the place from which she was born: her own mother’s vagina. I could see a trickle of my semen oozing out of it. “Come on, baby!” I hissed. “Suck my cum from your mommy! You don’t want a baby brother, do you? Come on, suck your brother out of your mommy’s pussy while there’s time!”
“No!” the girl gasped.
I squeezed her neck. “Let me see your tongue, sweetie!” She was grimacing and sobbing at the same time, but would not obey me. The mother, meanwhile, was jerking her arms against her bindings as she now felt her daughter’s face in her pussy. She stared at me in shock with eyes that could not have been wider if she were looking at the devil himself.
I was patient with the girl. “Lick her cunt, honey, or I will hurt you!” My voice was calm but the tightening of my grip around her neck left no doubt about my determination. Slowly, while her lithe body shook from sobbing, the teenager’s pink little tongue made tentative darts out between her lips. “Not good enough!” I shook her. Crying loudly now, her tongue again protruded from between her lips…and stayed. Holding the girl by her head I rubbed her face up and down her mother’s recently fucked cunt, watching carefully to see that her tongue was thoroughly tasting it.
I pulled Megan’s head back by the hair to look at her face, and was pleased to see fresh cum on it, adding to the remnants of the dried cum from our earlier activity when we were home alone, before mother arrived. I then pushed the girl’s face back against her mother’s cunt. “Stick your tongue IN!” I hissed. “As far as you can, you little bitch!” Reluctantly, with no other options, the girl obeyed my command, and I was rewarded with the sight of her tongue disappearing inside her mother’s wet vagina. “Good girl,” I said soothingly. “Very good girl. I’m going to turn the two of you into incest lesbians!”
Watching this scene brought my cock back up to a fully erect state in a very short while. And I now became somewhat impatient. It had now been over four hours that I had control of this naked, sixteen year old hottie---and she was still a virgin! Time to make a woman out of this girl!
I reached beneath the teen and lifted her firm, curvaceous ass into the air. Her weight was now on her knees, which were planted on the mattress, and on her face, which remained buried in her mother’s cunt. Her arms lay by her side, still mostly numb. The girl’s mother, horrified now beyond belief, starred wildly at me over her daughter’s head and between her own raised, spread legs. She shook her head madly from side to side as she helplessly watched me position myself behind her daughter’s bare, raised ass. She saw me kick the girl’s thighs apart. She yelled unintelligibly into the ball gag.
I stared into Sandra’s eyes as I leaned in and began to lick her daughter’s ass. “You know, mom,” I said as I licked ass, “your daughter’s been a very bad girl. I caught her masturbating this afternoon.” Megan continued to sob into her mother’s vagina. “I also overheard her tell her friend that she wanted to fuck Coach Brady. I’m serious. And she doesn’t care that Coach Brady is a married man, or that he could get fired and arrested if anyone found out. I think Megan deserves to be punished for being such a bad girl! Don’t you agree, mom?”
With that I raised my face away from the lovely girl’s beautiful, bare ass, soaking wet from my saliva, and hauled back and delivered a bruising spank to where my mouth and tongue had just been. She jumped and squealed in pain. Her mother’s arms yanked ineffectively against their bonds. In quick succession I gave the girl three more vicious spanks that added to the muffled wails that she emitted into mommy’s cunt. Her firm, young ass was already a bright crimson in color as it shook in harmony with the rest of her trembling body. I then leaned into her once again and began to again lick the asshole that lay between her nicely rounded and now nicely red butt. I didn’t have to look at my cock. I could tell. I could feel it. It was once again at 100%, stud category hard.
The girl’s resistance to me was non-existent as I lifted one of her knees and forced it further apart from the other knee, spreading her to-die-for thighs to the distance I wanted.
For good measure, I spanked the girl’s ass again viciously. Her body jerked and she cried in pain.
Her bound and gagged mother shook her head in despair as she watched me apply K-Y jelly, which I had taken from my bag, to my stiff cock, a cock that was visible to the mother as it rose above and behind the raised and naked ass of her beautiful teenage daughter. The woman screamed against her gag as she watched me position the rock hard member against that upturned ass. She thrashed against her handcuffs, her eyes those of a wild beast, but she was helpless to do anything other than watch in horror as the first inch of my penis penetrated her daughter’s tight, virgin pussy.
I watched in fascination the way the lips of Megan’s sixteen year old pussy parted as my penis entered her. Slowly, another inch of my manhood slid into her tight hole. The girl groaned and cried into her mother’s vagina. At that point, however, I felt my progress blocked. I paused, realizing that I must have reached an intact hymen after all! “Relax, sweetie,” I said softly. I ran my hands back and forth over the swell of her curvaceous hips and ass. “Relax, honey, okay? This isn’t going to hurt. You’re a big girl, you can take it, okay?”
The girl raised her face from between her mother’s legs and sobbed quietly as I held her fine ass in the air, my cock two inches into her. The trembling of her body provided a sensational, massaging feeling for those lucky two inches. In fact, it made me so dizzy with lust that I felt light headed. I remembered seeing this lovely young thing as she pranced on the volleyball court—a most unattainable of hotties—and now her she was, in my clutches, her naked ass raised in the air and poised for me to possess her. Life was never so good!
Shaking my head to clear it, I perceived that the girl might, in fact, have relaxed slightly, possibly because a minute or so had passed since I had gained those two inches. I grasped the young thing firmly by the widest part of her curvaceous hips, took a deep breath, and gave her a murderous thrust forward. The virgin girl’s hymen split, and she screamed in pain as my penis plunged into her to the hilt.
With the pain and surprise of her penetration, the girl had raised her body half way up. I pushed her forward so that she fell face first fully onto her mother’s body, embracing her, daughter’s tits flattening against mother’s tits. I followed her, laying myself onto her back, my cock buried into her from the rear, sandwiching her between her mother and myself.
Sandra groaned into her gag as she felt the combined weight of both the girl’s body and my own suddenly pressing upon her abdomen. I began fucking her daughter as she lay face-to-face on top of her mother, using deliberate, firm in-and-out strokes. The sixteen-year-old’s arms flayed outward sideways on the mattress as I did this. I took her arms, which were like those of a rag doll, and positioned them along the arms of her mother that were extended over the woman’s head to where her wrists where fastened to the bed’s head board. After several deep strokes, in which I enjoyed the tightness of the young girl’s cunt as it clung to my manhood, I pulled nearly all the way out. I paused and looked down at my cock, with only the head still stuck within the girl’s vagina. There was a distinct amount of dull red blood coating it. I looked up quickly at Sandra. Through her spread knees, and above her daughter’s bare ass, the woman could easily see her daughter’s virgin blood stuck to her rapist’s rock-hard penis. A lot of women throughout history have had the severe misfortune of being made to watch helplessly as their sweet, young daughters were raped before their eyes. Certainly, though, very few were made to do so while the daughter’s naked body was being pressed down upon her own.
As I was concentrating on having rear entry sex with the girl, I couldn’t help but notice that her mother, beneath us, was having difficulty breathing. In her hysteria, the woman required all the air that she could get, and the combination of snot in her nose, gag in her mouth, and weight upon her torso was making this nearly impossible. I therefore took most of my weight off them, supporting myself with my elbows and knees beside their bodies while continuing to fuck the girl. I didn’t need the bitch dying on me.
Having seen her daughter’s blood on my cock, however, seemed to put the mother over the top. She began to vomit. Luckily, the gag held most of her vomit inside, but it was quickly apparent, as the woman choked, that this was complicating the situation. Roughly, I pulled the girl’s body off the woman and held her up vertically, both of us on our knees, careful that my cock remained planted within her. Holding the girl tightly, as a convict would hold a hostage, I watched the mother carefully until her choking subsided and I could see she wasn’t going to buy the farm. Breathing remained difficult for her, what with her nostrils filled with snot and vomit, and with the ball gag in her mouth; however, with a chest that heaved mightily, and with our combined weights now off her, it appeared she was getting enough breath to live.
I was therefore able to return my focus to the teenage volleyball player, who I began to gently fuck from the rear as we remained kneeled between her mother’s raised legs. With our weight on our knees, I firmly held the girl upright with my arms reaching around her lithe body, my hands grasping her and controlling her by her breasts. Her body, facing away from me, was positioned such that her genitals were directly above mine, allowing for easy, continued penetration. I bounced the girl up and down so that my rigid dick pistoned in and out of her internal cylinder. Her head drooped, and she offered me no resistance as I did this. A soft groan emanated from within her with each deep, upward thrust that I gave her. I was going so far into her that on some of the deeper jabs I could feel her firm, round ass pounding down, contacting my lower belly.
After awhile, I wanted a change of venue, so I withdrew my cock and threw the girl to the bed beside her mother, where she fell like a sack of potatoes. I hesitated for a moment to watch the mother, but it seemed she had slipped into some form of merciful (for her) unconsciousness.
Turning my attention back to the daughter, I moved to again take possession of her. I saw that she had curled up into a fetal position, and paused to drink in her beauty. I loved the way her long, shapely legs looked as she lay with her knees brought up and tucked under her chin. Her long, golden locks lay disheveled and strewn around her head. I shook my head in disbelief at my good fortune, marveling at what a remarkable sex toy this little sixteen-year-old really was. Men the world over would give top dollar—or their infamous left nut—to have what I now had laying beneath me at my disposal.
And to think that my cock had already been inside her! I looked down at my tool and stroked it, feeling the moistness of the girl’s pussy juices and hymen blood that were coating it. Megan stirred. I looked past my peni,s which I still held in my hand, and saw that she was looking up at me out of the corner of one very fearful eye. Her body trembled. She knew I was no where near finished with her.
When I reached and took hold of the girl by her ankle, she uttered a weak, “no, please”, but I chose to ignore her and roughly pulled her heavenly legs down and rolled her onto her back. I then spread those fine legs. The teen no longer had the strength to resist me as I did this. She was like putty in my hands.
I mounted her in the missionary position, sunk my penis into her no longer virgin pussy, and began fucking the living shit out of her. This position gave me a satisfying view of her frontal nudity and pretty face as I boned her. I liked the way those twin teen tits of hers, one with a ring of bright red hickies around the nipple, wiggled like firm jell-o each time I gave her an inward thrust. I remembered once again how those tits had looked beneath her tight volleyball jersey as she rushed the net for a spike, as I gave her a spike of my own at that moment. I thought of her volleyball shorts, if you could even call them shorts, the way they covered the crotch and virtually nothing else, leaving those long beautiful thighs to be eye candy for all to see. My cock was now buried in that same crotch that had mesmerized me so at the volleyball match, and which undoubtedly mesmerized every other red blooded male who had been in attendance, but none of whom had the balls to carry out the mission that I had so carefully planned and embarked upon. Eye candy? This little hottie was now cock candy!
“Just pretend you’re fucking Coach Brady, honey,” I whispered hoarsely into the girl’s ear as I raped her.
From time to time I would change her position. Probably my favorite was when I pushed her right knee upward and turned her sideways. The manner in which her limbs were so malleable was a definite turn-on.
After riding the beautiful little bitch for the longest while, it was time for the grand finale. I was tempted to finish her off in the missionary position, but had a more devious plan. I reluctantly withdrew my cock from her and sat up between spread legs that she made no attempt to close. Her head remained sideways on the mattress as I stared down at her glistening, sweat soaked nakedness.
Again manhandling her malleable body, I lifted the teen up and replaced her face down between her mother’s legs that remained raised, the rope around the back of her neck secured to her knees and keeping them dangling in the air. Doing this seemed to bring the mother out what had been a state of defeated stupor.
Daughter’s naked breasts again flattened against mother’s. Both their bodies gleaned with a fine coating of perspiration. The mother watched me with listless eyes as I once again mounted her daughter from the rear, between the mother’s own feet that dangled helplessly in the air. My penis re-entered the girl. Again our combined weight was crushing mom, and again she gasped for air. This time I alleviated the situation by reaching and tearing the ball gag from the woman’s mouth. She began to breathe in air through her open mouth as best she could against the weight crushing down upon her.
As I fucked the girl, I made sure that her face was pressed against her mother’s. “Kiss each other!” I hissed. Fisting their hair, I forced their mouths together. “Kiss!” Since they both had to have their mouths wide open in order to breathe—their noses were full of snot from crying—what I was seeing was the same as it they were French kissing. “I want to see tongues together” I demanded. Not seeing what I wanted, I put a hand around both their necks and squeezed. Having no choice but to obey me, I was rewarded when their tongues did indeed come out of their mouths and met. I watched carefully as their tongues did a weird dance, as their drooling saliva mixed together and ran down both their chins. The mother must have tasted her own pussy juices on her daughter’s face. There must have also still been some of my dried cum on the girl’s face from our afternoon session—I know I sure as hell hadn’t washed her. The dried cum was now being rehydrated by their collective saliva, and this, along with pussy juice, was mixing with blood, sweat and tears—literally—along with an ample amount of runny nose snot, in a bizarre blend that smeared across their beautiful faces.
Sandra got her mouth free long enough to curse me, something about me being a devil that would rot in hell. But then I forced her daughter’s gaping mouth back over hers, effectively muffling her.
Each pump I gave the sandwiched girl from the rear rocked both their bodies. “Your little girl’s got a great pussy, Sandra,” I hissed lustily. “And she’s ready to take her first load of cum!” I increased the intensity of my thrusts into the girl. When I felt orgasm at hand, I pulled their faces apart. I wanted Sandra to be looking into the eyes of her daughter’s rapist as he ejaculated into the young girl’s cunt. And she was! Her eyes were listless and vacant, but they were staring at me as I shouted “Yes! Yes! Yes!” as multiple squirts of semen were pumped from my hard testicles and sent deep into the sexual organs of the sixteen-year-old female. “Yes!” I cried one final time as I rocked the girl, her mother, the bed, the entire room with the force of my orgasm
I collapsed in exhaustion on top of both of them. The bed sheets were soaked with perspiration from all three of us.
The three of us lay motionless for the longest time. My penis remained inside the girl’s wet cunt, but I could feel it slowly becoming more and more flaccid. At long last, knowing that all good things must come to an end, I pulled myself out of the girl and crawled off her and her mother. Despite weak knees, I got off the bed and stood.
I looked back at the two naked women as they remained there on the bed, motionless, locked in their intimate embrace, cheek to cheek, the girl face down on top of her face up mother, her legs between her mother’s raised and spread thighs that were still pulled upward by the rope that wrapped around from both knees to the back of her neck. The two women looked like lesbian lovers in a state of frozen animation, except that lesbians usually don’t have their cunts filled with sperm like these two ladies had at the moment. I never had felt so satisfied in my life.
I pulled a camera out of my bag and took several photos of the two females in this bizarre embrace. I then pulled the girl’s limp, sweaty body off her mother and flung her onto her back beside her mom, watching in approval the way her legs splayed and then seeing that in her exhausted, defeated state she made no attempt to close them. I then lifted the rope from behind the mother’s head and allowed her legs to fall with a thud to the bed. Mother and daughter now lay in similar positions, side by side on their backs, their fucked pussies visible between spread legs. The only difference between them was their arms: while Sandra’s still stretched back over her head to where her wrists remained cuffed to the head board, Megan’s lay limply at her sides. I immediately took additional photos, careful that those playgrounds between both sets of parted thighs clearly showed in the frames. As I did this, both women stirred, but only slightly. Both regarded me with defeated, tired gazes through half closed eyes.
It was time for me to get the hell out of there. Slowly, I put my clothes back on, still savoring the view before me of the two raped beauties, their naked and sweaty bodies laying spent where I had left them. When I was dressed, I removed the handcuffs that held Sandra’s wrists to the head board. The woman did not resist as I did this. Her arms, surely in a state of total numbness, basically remained in the position they had been for the past half hour. Megan, meanwhile, curled up once again into that fetal position that she seemed to prefer.
With the handcuffs safely packed in my bag of tricks, I took the woman’s jaw roughly in my hand and bent down until my face was only inches from hers. “Okay, Sandra, here’s the situation,” I said, my voice firm. “I’m leaving enough DNA behind here to float a fucking battle ship. If you go to the police on this, you won’t have to save for Megan’s college education because she won’t live that long. Do you hear me?”
The woman nodded her head to the extent that my hand on her jaw permitted movement. “I’ll be checking the police blotter, do you understand?” When she didn’t respond, I shook her jaw violently. “Do you fucking HEAR me?”
“Yes!” she cried.
“And if I do get busted for this and sent to the big house, sweetie, I’ve got friends who owe me favors. They would love to get their hands on your little girl. And believe me, Sandra, they won’t be as gentle with her as I was! You hear what I’m saying?”
The woman’s face grimaced as she began sobbing for the umpteenth time. I flung her face to one side, released my grip on her jaw, and stood.
“And don’t be going to the hospital, sweetie,” I added. “They tend to ask questions. You hear me? There’s nothing wrong with either of you that won’t heal on its own.”
A grin broke out on my face. “I would, though, get to your local pharmacist as soon as I could, if I were you. Ask him about a couple of morning after pills.”
Sandra was finally able to bring her arms down from above her head, and used them to cover her naked breasts. Her legs stirred slowly on the mattress. Beside her on the bed, Megan seemed to curl up into an even tighter pre-natal position.
“I’m afraid if you don’t do that,” I continued, “then in about nine months they might be wheeling both your asses into the maternity ward together!” I chuckled. “Just think. You’d be having a son and a grandson at the same time! Your son would be getting a brother and a nephew all in one!” I was the only one in the room that laughed out loud at that.
Seeing my audience did not appreciate my sense of humor, I turned, removed the barricade from the door leading from the bedroom, and exited. I was down the stairs and out the front door in just a few seconds.
Thirty minutes later I was having a cold beer in my favorite bar. Sex always made me thirsty.
As I sat at the bar, I enjoyed looking at the photos I had taken of my prey after I had raped them. As I waited for the second cold one to come, I reached into my bag of tricks and fingered the two souvenirs from the evening. One was the pair of the panties that Megan had been wearing when she returned from school. The other was Sandra’s workout sports bra.
As she served me the second beer, the really cute female bartender asked me what pictures I was looking at. “Just some hunting pictures,” I said. She asked if I could show them to her. “I could,” I said, “but then I’d have to kill you.”