“Oh yeah, Sam,” I threw my arms around him again and pushed my butt tight against his crotch, feeling his cock move deep inside. “Fuck me again. Fuck me good.”
But Sam pulled his cock out of my hole. I felt empty. I wanted it back in me. I wanted to feel full again. I wasn’t just saying it. I did want to get fucked again. He flipped me over and made me get right in the center of the bed, laying on my stomach. Then he got between my legs and spread them wide and I felt one of his fingers enter my sore hole.
“Oh fuck yeah, that pussy’s full of my cum.” He pulled his finger out of my butt and his other hand grabbed my hair and twisted my head around. Before I knew it, the finger covered in his cum, which he’d just dug out of my butt, was in my mouth and I was sucking it clean. Then I felt him moving around and, within a few seconds, he was laying over me and his cock was sliding back into my wet, deflowered hole.
This time Sam started fucking me slowly, gently pushing his cock in and out of my butt. “That god-damned pussy ain’t so tight anymore, but it still feels fucking awesome,” he grunted into the back of my head as he drove himself into my guts. Then he pulled the strap of the bra I wore, and I felt it tighten against my chest. Then he let the strap go and it snapped back down across my back. The sting made me clench my body, which of course meant my hole tightened around his shaft. At the same moment he thrust his cock deep inside me and I let out a squeal. He grabbed a handful of my hair and pushed my face into the bed, shoving his cock into me harder and faster with each thrust.
I’d heard people talking about out-of-body experiences before. But that was the first time I ever really felt the sensation. I thought I’d gotten fucked hard and rough the first time. Well, that was nothing compared to the second time Sam fucked me. Since he’d just come, he lasted a lot longer the second time. And since my hole had been stretched and was greasier than it had been, he went wild. I heard him trying to say stuff, but I couldn’t understand anything, other than the occasional, “tight pussy,” or “fucking slut.” He pulled my hair, pounded and pushed at my shoulders and back, and when he laid his body tight over mine, he bit my neck and shoulders and even took mouth-fulls of my hair. All the while he relentlessly drove his cock in and out of my butt.
When I thought I couldn’t take any more, Sam started gnashing his teeth at the back of my neck and shoulders, and he rammed his cock so deep I thought he was going to pierce my lungs. He started whimpering and whining around the big chunk of my flesh between his teeth, and he bit down at the spot where my neck and shoulder met. He’d stopped pulling his cock back and was just pushing forward, deeper and deeper into my guts. And when I felt his body tense over me and his teeth bite me even harder, and as the quaking and thrashing began, I realized that I was about to come also.
My dick was being pounded into the bed, with each thrust of Sam’s cock in my butt. And as I felt the molten-hot lava start to coat my guts, I also felt my own body react. Sam was shooting his load of cum up my butt, and I was shooting mine all over my bed.
“Oh Fuck Yeah!” I heard him yell. My flesh had come free of his teeth and his mouth was right next to my ear. “Filling that pussy full of cum,” he huffed and puffed. Then, with one violently hard thrust, shooting yet another wad of cum deep in my bowels, he said, “You’re fucking shooting too, aren’t you slut?”
I could barely make words. “Yeah,” I grunted, “I’m sorry.” Even if I’d wanted to, I couldn’t have stopped myself from shooting.
“Squeeze my big cock with that tight pussy,” he grunted, feeling my butt clench around his shaft. “Fucking little cock-whore. You like feeling me dump my scum up that pussy.” Each word he said was punctuated by a thrust of his hips, driving his cock deeper, shooting wad after wad of cum inside me. All the while I felt my own body throbbing, shooting my own cum all over my belly and the bed.
When he was finished coming, Sam’s body fell against me. His cock was still embedded in my butt, but it was finally starting to deflate a little, and didn’t feel so much like a battering-ram inside me. As we caught our breath, my boyfriend cooed sweet-nothings in my ear, as he tenderly kissed my face and the back of my head and neck. I’d never felt so incredibly exhausted, so satisfied, so comfortable as I did with Sam laying on me, feeling his cock becoming softer and smaller inside me. When it did finally slip out of my butthole, I felt a wet glob follow it.
Sam got off me and started to chuckle. Although I felt as though my body had been run through a ringer, I managed to turn my head so I could look at him and see what it was he found funny. He was holding his deflating cock and looking down at it. I could see it was covered in a glistening goo, a mixture of the lube, his cum and the juices from inside my butt. And there were a couple specks of brown on it, and, much to my horror, several streaks of bright red.
“That’s your fucking cherry-blood,” he said, wiping one of the red streaks off his cock with a finger. Then he leaned down a bit, putting his finger right in my face. “Lick it,” he commanded. My tongue sprang out and I was licking my own blood from his finger. When it was clean, Sam moved around so that his cock was right in front of my face. “Get it all,” he said. So, I licked all the goo off his cock, sucked it a little, before he whipped it out of my mouth and gave me a slap across the face.
“Now get the fuck up and clean this all up,” he said with an evil tone as he looked around the room. “Then clean yourself up. You’re a fucking mess, you little slut. You got cum and shit all over you and blood too.” He turned away from me and started walking out of the room, but I noticed he had his cock in his hand and was stroking it a bit. “I can’t even look at you. You were such a pretty, little virgin girl, but now you ain’t nothing but a cum-covered cock-whore. Fucking disgusting little Faggot!” Sam spit out that last word and he left the room.
So that’s how it happened. My first time. I wanted it, but I was raped. Yet even today, I often think about that day when I masturbate. I might go a month or two, without thinking about it, but no other fantasy of mine has stayed around longer. Though as I lay there, after ‘my boyfriend’ said all those horrible things to me just before he left, I couldn’t have imagined being in any situation that could be worse.
I heard him go down the hall to the bathroom and the shower turn-on. I just lay there in my bed. My sheets were soaked with sweat and cum and vaseline and my body was so sore I could barely move, but my mind was going a million miles an hour. I couldn’t believe what had happened to me in the previous several hours. If it weren’t for the throbbing pain in my butt and guts, and the dull ache of my spent nuts, I might have wondered if it all hadn’t been a dream. My emotions were chaotic and before I realized what was happening, I was crying, and then bawling like a baby. I couldn’t figure-out how only a few minutes before I’d been feeling more incredible than I ever had in my short life, like everything in the world were right, all the stars and planets were lined-up perfectly and nothing could ever be any better, that I was feeling the best I ever would. Now I was laying there, sobbing and feeling like a discarded piece of trash. It had all been wrong. More wrong that anything I’d could ever imagine.
I must have fallen asleep. I don’t know how long it had been since Sam left me there on my bed, laying in the drying remnants of my virginity. And when I felt movement on the bed, waking me, I didn’t remember what had happened. For about a second and a half. Then I felt my butthole throb and something wet ooze out. I felt the bra around my chest, the garter-belt on my waist and the stockings on my legs. And I felt a hand on my head.
“Wake-up baby,” I heard Sam’s soft voice saying, as my butthole throbbed again and more goo seeped out. “You got to get cleaned up before the parents get home.”
I opened my eyes and saw that Sam was looking at me with a tender expression. I tried to smile at him, but even that hurt.
“Come on baby,” he said, bending over me and scooping me up in his arms. His smell wasn’t the same as before. He wasn’t all sweaty and manly-scented. He smelled clean, almost powdery and he’d changed his clothes (or gotten dressed, I should say, as my last glimpse of him was of his bare-naked body). “That’s a good girl,” he cooed and nuzzled his face in my hair as he carried me out of my room and down the hallway the bathroom. As he carried me, I felt one of his hands reach to my butt and a finger start searching around down there. “Your pussy’s still full of my spunk,” he said, as he lowered me to the toilet and gave me a kiss. The moment my butt hit the ringed seat of the toilet, I felt a hot rush of fluids flow from my sore butthole, followed by the sound of a wet, greasy fart. I didn’t even care that Sam was right there, hearing the noise I was usually too embarrassed to let anyone hear. He left me sitting on the toilet, went over to the bathtub and started filling it with water. I felt more of his load seep from my butthole, and let out a few more wet, sloppy farts, before I felt as though my guts were trying to push-out through my sore hole.
Once there was a bit of water in the tub, and I couldn’t feel anything but little drips of Sam’s load dribbling from my butt, he came back to me and took me in his arms once again, though instead of picking me up and cradling me like he had, he stood me on my feet. My legs were wobbly, but Sam supported me until I found the strength to hold myself up. Then his arms went around me, and as he kissed my mouth, he unfastened the bra strap around my back. Then he lowered to my knees and, after giving my flaccid, little dick a kiss, he pulled the garter and stockings off me. Then he guided me to the tub and I got in. The warm water and bubbles were just what my over-taxed body needed. I inhaled a more potent version of the same powdery scent I’d smelled on Sam once he’d showered.
Now, let me stop here just a second and point one thing out. I just said that Sam kissed my flaccid, little dick. That was one of the few times he ever touched it with his mouth, and when he did touch it otherwise, it was usually to taunt me about having such a small dick, or as he was making his way down to my butt. That’s the way it was for the whole time our relationship lasted.
Sam started talking to me, as he got a bar of soap and a washcloth. “I can’t believe I’ve had such a pretty, little girl here this whole time,” he said, beginning to rub the gunk and grime from my body. “Such a hot, beautiful little cock-slut. I could always see the way you looked at me, but I didn’t realize how much you wanted to be my girlfriend.” I closed my eyes and tried to relax as best as I could with my boyfriend’s hands slick with soap, cleaning my whole body, as he told me what a good girl I’d been. “I can’t believe how fucking tight your cherry-pussy was,” he said as he reached a hand between my legs, rubbing the hole he’d just fucked with soap and water. “But it ain’t cherry no more.” He stuck a finger inside me. It burned a bit, considering how hard it had been pounded, and that he was using soap now to grease the way, but I could tell that my hole was no longer tight as it had been. “Yeah,” he cooed, “my new little girlfriend got her pussy pounded by my big cock. You ain’t no innocent little virgin-girl anymore, are you?”
“No,” I said as if on instinct, “I’m not a virgin no more.”
Before I got out of the tub, Sam whipped his dick out one more time and I sucked on the head of it while he jacked-off until he shot another load in my mouth. Then, as he put his cock back and was zipping-up, he said, “I’m gonna let you lay there for a few more minutes and I’m gonna go clean-up the mess in your room.” And though it didn’t sound like anything much, his words seemed venomous. “But next time, you little slut, you’re going to have do all the girl-work and clean-up everything yourself.”
The water started getting cold, and before Sam came back to the bathroom, I got out of the tub and started drying myself. When he did come in, he had that grin on his face and a stack of clothes in his hand. I saw a pair of my dark-blue sweat-pants, a black t-shirt I knew had been hanging in my closet, and a skimpy pair of panties. I’d remembered seeing the old pair of my mother’s underwear down in the box in the basement. They were light and sheer and cut so high that there was barely anything to them.
“Get dressed,” he said, throwing the clothes at me. I didn’t say a word, but grabbed the panties and started to put them on. “Now here’s the deal,” he said, his eyes boring into me as he watched the girly underwear slide up my legs. “You’re not going to wear anything but girl’s panties from now on,” he said in a serious tone of voice, “Got it?”
I nodded, pulling them to my hips and trying to find a comfortable place to put my dick.
“Got it?” he said, his tone turning a bit mean.
“Yes, sorry, I’ve got it, Sam. Only panties from now on.” I couldn’t believe what I was telling him I’d do, but I knew I would do it.
He smiled and said, “Good.” Then the grin came on his face. “And...” he let that word hang in the air between us a moment, “...you remember I already told you that you’re gonna let your hair get long, right?”
“Yeah,” I said, probably sounding way too eager. “Panties all the time and I’m gonna let my hair grow.”
“Ok,” he nodded, then added, “and a few more things.”
Just as eagerly I agreed to shave the tiny bit of fuzz from my armpits and the little puff of pubic-hair I’d sprouted (none of which I’d even had just a year before), and Sam even informed me that I had a couple hairs starting to sprout between my balls and my butt, and he wanted them gone too. He went on and explained, “And you’re gonna keep it that way, nice and smooth like a real girl, and if I pop over sometime and reach my hand down your pants to pet your pussy, and I feel even the slightest bit of stubble down there, you’re dead-meat.” I was also informed that when I was alone in the house for any amount of time, I would put on a pair of nylons and heels, a bra, and, “...whatever else you might think looks pretty.”
Then he got right up into my face, reached down and took my hand and put it on the bulge in his jeans. His voice was soft and hard, though I had no problems hearing it, “And whenever I want, you’re gonna take care of my cock. If I want your mouth, you’re gonna open-up and take it all till I blow down your fucking throat. If I want to fuck your ass, you’re gonna pull your panties down and bend over and beg me to shove my big cock inside you.” I felt it throb in my hand, and at the same moment, I felt Sam’s hand take hold of the soft bulge under my sweats and the panties he’d made me put on. “And,” his voice was harsh and scary as he squeezed me tightly, “next time I fuck you, you ain’t gonna cum unless I say you can. Got it?”
“Yes, Sam,” I eked out in the girly voice, not to please him though, he was squeezing my dick and balls so hard, it was what came out naturally. “When you fuck me, I promise I won’t cum unless you say so.”
“Good,” he said, his voice softer and his face looking more tender, and he moved his hand off mine, but I kept it right where it was, gently squeezing the bulge in my boyfriend’s jeans. Then he kissed me. A gentle kiss, one hand staying right where it was between my legs, his other hand moved to the back of my head and he pulled our faces tighter together. Then we went downstairs and turned on the television to an old, black-and-white horror film. We didn’t watch it, though. We sat on the couch making-out, as our hands spent a bit more time exploring each other’s bodies. When we heard the electric-garage door opening, I jumped off the couch and flopped down in the recliner.
Mom came in and asked how I was doing. As I told her I was feeling better, she looked over my face carefully and felt my forehead. “You feel a bit warm, and you’re kind of clammy, a bit flushed.” I wanted to say, “Well, no shit!” considering what I’d been through that day. Though, all I said was, “Maybe I should go to bed,” and I got up, kissing her on the cheek (and getting a noseful of her perfume, which gave me an idea for the next time Sam and I found ourselves alone), said a quick, “Good-night,” to my step-brother, and started out of the room.
I heard a grunted, “Night, Tommy,” but his voice was soft and, well, Sam actually might have said, “Night, Tammy,” instead. I went to bed and, I couldn’t help it with everything running through my mind, had to jack-off before I fell asleep. Sometime later, I felt something on my bed. It was dark, but I could tell by the rhythmic motion and the smell of sweat and by the heavy breathing and slight grunting, that Sam was sitting on my bed jacking himself off. I feigned sleep, barely opening my eyelids to see the shadowed, blurred motion of his pumping. But when I heard him stop breathing, then grunt a bit louder and the smell got more potent, I knew he was shooting. Several seconds later, I felt something wet touching my lips. Without any pretense, I started licking Sam’s cum from his hand, then he stood, pulling my head with him and I licked his deflating cock clean.
Then my boyfriend pulled my face to his and kissed me deep (surely tasting his own cum as he did), and after a moment he pulled away and let me sink back down to my pillow. “I think I’m falling in love with you, Tammy,” Sam said softly. “I’m so glad you want to be my girlfriend. I’ll see you in the morning.” Then he left my room. I never had a better night’s sleep in my life.
I woke early the next morning with the potent stench of sweat in my nose and a dripping, uncut cockhead prodding at my lips. I sucked Sam off and swallowed his cum before our parents woke. And also before they woke, I made a big breakfast for my boyfriend (well, and enough for everyone else too), and we sat at the table, a weird little family, and ate.
Now, I do remember my mother looking at me strangely that morning. But, there wasn’t any way she could know what had happened. I was just sure she didn’t. But, I think she noticed some change in me. I know I felt changed. A lot had happened in the last twenty-four hours and, well, I was feeling a lot more grown-up. And I’ll just bet I sat there with a big wide grin on my face all morning.
So there it is. I know I have a tendency to ramble on (but you’ve known that about me since the day we met!), but once I started putting it all into words, I couldn’t stop. I need to make sure that you understand. I can’t just let you go. I know we can make it work. Even you’ve said we’re perfect for each other. And there’s no doubt in my mind that we are. But you have to understand that there’s a part of me that, while I’m not so proud of it, it’s still a part of me. I don’t know why I hid that part from you for so long. And I feel terrible about you finding out the way you did. I’ve imagined hundreds of different scenarios of ways to tell you. I’m sure you realize that the way it happened never once crossed my mind. And I’m so sorry that it happened the way it did. I guess I was just hoping that somehow, you’d just realize what I wanted, what I need, and I prayed that when you did, you’d be cool with it. And I have to wonder if maybe you wouldn’t have been quite so upset if I’d only told you. If I hadn’t been so afraid of losing you, once I found you, and just gotten it off my chest. I’ve never felt for anyone, as I do for you. Even for Sam. He was my first love, and I will always love him. But, as you can see, ours wasn’t a healthy relationship. There’s no doubt in my mind that Sam was manic-depressive, or bi-polar, as we call it today. I also know that he had major issues with sexuality. He didn’t like the person he was, which gave him a warped sense of relating to others. Sure I loved him. For several years, Sam was the focus of my life. And when our relationship ended, I was devastated. I never thought I’d love anyone again. And I didn’t. Not for, well, not until I met you. I knew it the moment I first saw you. I knew you were different. I knew you were the one. And I wish I’d been up-front about everything right then and there. More than anything, that is what I am most sorry for. That I didn’t give you the chance to back-out then. Because now, well, I’ve gotten the chance to know you and realize that we were perfect for each other, and I’m not sure how I’d live without you. I love you. And I’m so, so sorry. And I’ll do anything I possibly can to make it up to you. Please…