Although my mother holds strong to her strict Catholic beliefs and insists that we are born into this world sinners, I believe that everyone starts out basically good. I think every true sinner has a defining moment, when they cross over the threshold into darkness. I can recall mine vividly.
I woke up in the morning and enjoyed that single moment of bliss before I remembered my terrible mistake from yesterday.
I pounded my fist against the mattress and forced myself not to curse, because I know I would be punished severely if my mother heard me. There was no cursing in her house. There wasn't much of anything in her house.
As I sluggishly prepared for the long day ahead of me, I recalled the details of how I had managed to have an orgasm on the phone with the resident bad boy at my school when he had only called to get me to do his homework. I guess it was my punishment for allowing myself to indulge in pleasuring myself.
As I reached the bottom of the stairs down to my front door, I was greeted with my mother's daily inspection.
"Arms straigt out," she ordered timelessly. After fifteen years, I had learned to do as she asked and saw no reason to protest.
As her eyes examined every inch of my body to ensure I wasn't dressed like an "fornicating harlot," (although I suppose I had behaved as one only hours ago) she stopped and scrutinized the hem of my floral dress.
"I'm going to have to meaure," she murmured to herself as she fetched her tape measure. She ran it from the end of the dress to the beginning of my knee. "This is half an inch too short. Change."
"But, mother-" WHAP! I was flat on the cold, linoleum floor. The side of my face stung, especially where it had made contact with the ring my mother had refused to take off, even though my father had killed himself years ago.
"The LORD cares not for resilient youth, or for harlots. Today you are both," my mother spat callously at me as I picked myself up off of the floor.
Minutes later, I descended the stairs again in a white, lace dress with long sleeves, and thick concealer to disguise the new mark on my face. It was my safe dress that I picked after almost every failed inspection. Once again, it worked like a charm. I was allowed to go to school that day.
Later on, I forced my anxiety down as I turned the knob to my English class. I had expected everyone to have already heard about my ridiculous incident, but the only eyes I could feel on me were Malcolm's gorgeous, emerald eyes.
"How're you doin', Eileen?" he asked as I slid into my desk, opposite from him.
"I'm fine," I stated, pretending to fidget with something in my bag.
"Just... Fine?" he inquired, leaning in closer to me with a crooked grin and devilish eyes. He must have been thinking that I was way beyond fine the last time he heard from me...
"Great," I humored him with a forced smile.
"Thats what I thought," He crooned. I felt something warm brush against my leg and I flinched. It took me a moment to realize that he had removed his shoe and was now caressing me with his foot. I didn't dare say another word all period.
Later, as I shut the door to my locker and turned around, I came face to face with my handsome devil once again.
"Can I help you, Malcolm?" I asked through gritted teeth.
"Yeah... I think you can help me with something..." he breathed as his eyes flickered down to the hard lump in his jeans.
"Listen, I think I gave you the wrong idea, that is not how I am," I scolded him as I pushed past him to walk away.
"Yes, you are," he stated matter-of-factly as he caught me by the wrist. "And I have proof."
"You can say what you'd like to, Malcolm, but you can't prove anything," I spat, wrenching my arm from his grip.
"I wouldn't be so sure about that," He taunted me, withdrawing a small mp3 player from his pocket, once again drawing my attention to the rock hard lump in his pants. He extended an earbud to me and I hesitantly placed it in my ear.
I heard the last few moments of the orgasm I had inadvertently shared with him on the phone. He had recorded almost all of the "good parts," if you could call them that. If only I didn't have such a unique voice. My speech came out about an octave below average, making me sound perpetually sultry. The voice on the recording was so obviously mine.
"What do you want from me?" I asked coldly, jerking the bud out of my ear.
"I just want you to come have a little fun with me, Eileen. It's free period, we've got a half hour," he breathed, with that vicious grin.
I opened my mouth to refuse when he waved the mp3 player in my face, reminding me of where I stood.
"Fine," I muttered, resigning myself over to him. My heart beat a mile a minute and my skin grew clammy as Malcolm led me by the hand to wherever ungodly place we were headed. I did fear what he would do to me, but I was even more afraid that I might like it.
He took me down a corridor I had never seen before, mostly empty and had very few occupied classrooms. It looked as if the school had forgotten it as the rest of it evolved over the decades. When we finally came to a stop in a small nook with grafitti covering the walls, and completely out of sight, I knew that this would be where it would happen.
Malcolm brushed my oak-colored hair off of my face with both hands. I grimaced as his skin passed over the fresh bruise on my cheeck. He didn't seem to notice.
"Get down on your knees," he ordered. Once I was on the ground, he spoke again, in that deep voice of his that made me undeniable hot and sent a chill down my spine. "Get my dick out."
I fumbled for a moment on the button of his jeans, causing him to impatiently reach down and do it himself. I managed to get them down to his ankles. It seemed that the moment I tugged at his plaid boxers, his hard pole popped out and nearly poked me in the face. Malcolm laughed at me as I jumped back startled.
His dick was as big as I had fantasized, measuring in at 9 1/2 inches, and pleasantly thick. It was lined with curly blonde pubic hair resting neatly at the base. I wondered if he shaved it to keep it that way.
"Go on, I know you wanna suck it," he enticed me, and try as I might to deny it, he was right.
I wasn't completely sure what I was doing, but I had years worth of gossip overheard in the girls' bathroom to guide me.
I parted my lips slightly and pushed them over the soft, pink, head of his excited cock.
"Christ, careful!" he exclaimed as my teeth grazed his shaft. I was embarrassed at my mistake and folded my lips down over my teeth to avoid repeating it.
I was nearly halfway down his long shaft when I gagged and quickly pulled off of him for air. With nothing but a primal grunt, he forced himself even deeper into my mouth than before. I could see that romance wasn't high on his list, and I secretely loved that.
I began to do swirl my tongue around his shaft in circles. He moaned deeply and pushed himself nearly all the way into my mouth. I almost gagged again. I had a good 3/4 of his slick, salty member in my mouth, but that was just about all I could manage.
"Do this," he whispered, placing my right hand on the base of his shaft and guiding it back and forth.
My tongue slid all around the head of his dick and I got my first taste of his (or anyone's) sweet, salty pre-cum. The taste both revolted and aroused me. I loved it.
"Oh, shit... You're a fuckin' natural, baby," he moaned, thrusting his hips forward to fuck my face thoroughly.
I looked up at him with both scorn and lust in my eyes.
"Don't even fuckin' try to act like- Oh, shit- like you don't like it," he growled as he gripped me by the hair and roughly jerked me back and forth faster and faster.
"Fuck... I'm close," he murmured. "Come on babe, play with my balls some..."
I used my free hand to grope his manhood and squeeze lightly. Squeeze. Release. Squeeze. Release.
"That's it... That's it... That's fucking IT, baby!" he groaned loudly. His moans of ecstacy grew louder and louder. He was beginning to hurt me as he slammed his pelvis against my face over and over again, jamming his dick down my throat. I could feel the moisture soaking through my panties, but I didn't have a free hand and it was a little late to start working on myself.
"Oh, FUCK! Here it comes, babe..." he warned me, still raping my mouth full-force.
As I pulled him out of my mouth while continuing to jerk him he growled, "NO! I wan' you to drink it!"
"Well, I ain't gonna," I responded with more fire and defiance than I had ever allowed to consume me in my life.
Before we could argue anymore, I felt several splashes of what felt like white hot liquid against my face. I smelled that salty man-smell and made a mental note if it to enjoy later on my own.
Malcolm forcefully rubbed his cock all over my face. By the time he was done, his juice was smeared all across my nose, cheeks, and plenty had found its way into my bangs.
"Hell, you done that before?" he asked me as he began to compose himself, hoisting his boxers and pants back up his legs. I shook my head no, rising up off of the ground. Had that really just happened?
"Shit, that was fuckin' crazy, you oughtta be in porn or somethin'..." I couldn't help but think of what my mother would do to me if she could see us right now. I shuddered at the thought.
"Hey, what happened to your face?" Malcolm questioned me at that very moment. I suppose cover-up isn't built to last through having cum rubbed all over your face, I would have to re-apply it in the bathroom. He ran his fingers over the wound. I flinched at his touch. "I didn't do that to you... Did I ?"
"Uh... No, it's nothing," I replied, unable to think of a single good excuse for my bruise.
"No it ain't! Jesus, Eileen, that things the size of Texas!" he exclaimed. Maybe Malcolm wasn't a terrible guy. Sure he had coerced me into oral sex with him, but he'd known that I wanted it, and now here he was concerned (or at least pretending to be) over a mark on my face. Men were a mystery to me sometimes.
"I fell off my bike," I lied. "Now are you going to delete that recording?"
"After that? Hell, no!" he exlaimed, forgetting about my face (which I was going to have to wash before all that crud dried up) as he remembered his conquest of the day. "But maybe next time, I could do you," he crooned with that evil, irresistable grin.
I hoped to God he couldn't see the goosebumps rising on my skin.
The bell rang, I would have to make quick work of cleaning myself up and getting to class.
"Well, I'll being seeing you soon," he dismissed me with sex dripping from his voice. He patted the mp3 player, with its incriminating evidence, in his pocket and left me standing there, horny, cum-drenched, and probably about to be late for class.