Chapter 1
He came right up to me and asked me if I wanted to dance, and I couldn't believe it. That kind of thing hadn't happened before. He wasn't afraid of what anyone would think. I was almost embarrassed that he had asked me, but at the same time I was glad.
He had to be different, which meant that he was an individual, and that he wasn't afraid to be different. Everything about him smacked of non-conformity, even the way that he dressed.
He had on boots, levis, and a bright red shirt, that was covered by a black leather jacket.
I looked him over and felt a charge of excitement. There was certainly no reason why I couldn't dance with him. So I told him that I was willing to dance with him. He looked at me smiled and extended his hand. I took hold of that hand and we moved out onto the dance floor. He held me tightly and rubbed his groin next to mine. We danced very closely and I felt all sorts of strange shivers shooting up and down my spine. There was something very exciting happening to me, and I wasn't sure what it was.
He told me that his name was Judd and then he asked me what mine was. "Francis," I replied, "but everyone calls me Fran."
"Okay. I'll call you Fran. Come to these dances all the time?" he questioned.
"Yes, pretty regularly. My folks say it's safe. They say I'll not meet any wild kids."
"You mean like me?" he asked curiously.
"Oh, no ... I didn't mean that, honest. I mean ... well ... they're sorta prudish and they think that anybody who isn't in bed by ten is wild. You know how parents are."
"Yeah," he answered. His voice sounded distant.
After a few moments of silence, he spoke again. "Hey," he said excitedly, "I got a great idea. How about you coming to my place. You can change into something and we can go for a long ride on my motor."
"Oh," I said, his enthusiasm rubbing off onto me, "that sounds like fun!"
Hours later, after we had changed clothes at his place, and I had dressed in a pair of blue jeans, a blue shirt, and sandals-which he said I should wear-we had covered about sixty miles and were parked in an old deserted camp site.
Judd reached down into his pouch that was slung on the side of the cycle and pulled out a can of beer. He also brought out a pint of liquor. He ripped of the lid to the can and foam spurted out. From this he drank and then he poured some alcohol into it. After shaking the can around a bit he offered it to me.
As I wanted to please him I took the can and gulped from the small opening. The mixture-unfamiliar to me-burned as it went down, but tasted good, nonetheless.
"Let's rest here a little before we head back," he said, lying down on the thick grass. I sat beside him, a little self-conscious at my innocence and ignorance. I just couldn't be casual as he was being.
We passed the can back and forth, talking little. Each time he gave me the can, I took a big gulp and handed it back.
Shortly, I began to feel warm all over. The beer was beginning to have its effect ... and the liquor.
Judd rolled over to where I was sitting. He reached up behind me and gently tugged my long blonde hair, pulling me backwards onto the grass and into his arms.
As I settled in a flattened position, he raised his head above mine and lowered his lips onto mine.
At first, I was tense, resisting. But he didn't seem to notice. He pressed his warm lips against mine and I could feel the sudden hotness of his tongue, also pressing against my lips.
Slowly, hesitantly, I let my lips relax. As I did so, his tongue crept deeper into my mouth.
Soon, I found the large piece of flesh that was his tongue fully in my mouth.
"Ummmm," he murmured, pulling free from me. "You like that, don't you?"
"It isn't too bad," I said, noncommittally.
Again his mouth lowered over mine. His tongue was more bold and forceful now, poking and prodding into the depths of my throat.
I relaxed and let him have his way. I felt warm all over. I felt good!
His hand, which had been on the side of my head, started to glide down my body. It stopped at my breasts. It pressed them. I wanted to stop him ... but I didn't feel like it.
The warm feeling inside of me was growing, making me feel more relaxed, more willing, more eager...
His fingers started to undo the buttons of the shirt.
"Judd," I exclaimed, alarmed, "don't do that ... "
"Shut up, baby," he cut in. "Shut up and let it happen. Nothing's gonna hurt you..."
He kissed me again as his hands resumed their task, nimbly opening the buttons and pulling the shirt from the jeans.
Then his hand slid around and under me, taking hold of the bra strap and unfastening it, letting the material suddenly fall loose.
His hand was on my stomach, tickling it, caressing it. Little tingling sensations vibrated through me.
Slowly-very slowly-he edged his fingers upward, closer and closer to the bra.
They approached it and slid under it, shoving it easily out of the way, baring my small firm breasts to the cool air and the warmth of his palms.
I knew I should stop him but I wanted the feelings to continue. I had never experienced them before. I had never had a man-or a boy-make love to me.
I wanted to experience it...
Judd's dancing fingers continued to tease and toy with my breasts, exciting them ... exciting me. I felt my body squirm under his hand and heard a moan seep from my throat.
"Yeah, baby," he moaned softly. "Just relax and let it happen ... just relax ... and ... let ... it ... happen..."
I obeyed him. I felt my body go limp again under him. I continued sucking on his wet tongue. I tasted his saliva, and liking it, I swallowed it.
Gently, but firmly, he raised his mouth from mine and lowered it over my breasts.
When his tongue flicked out and touched the firm nipple of my breast, I thought he had touched a burning match to it. My body convulsed.
"Relax, baby ... relax ... relax..." he coaxed.
Again, I tried to obey him. But my body was on fire, and my head was swimming. I felt woozy; I felt good.
Again ... the kiss of fire, but this time on the other nipple. Again I wrenched under him. Again he spoke.
"Aw, come on, baby ... relax ... daddy ain't gonna hurt ya ... he just wants to love ya..."
I collected all my will power and forced my body to relax ... and I succeeded.
"That's the ticket," he said, "that's the way it's done ... just relax and let it happen ... You'll love it ... believe me ... You'll love it ... "
His hot breath was singeing the soft flesh of my breasts. I couldn't help but arch my back to relieve it. In doing so, I pressed my flesh against his wet lips. He took the motion for an invitation, gladly.
The liquid fire of his inner mouth sent my body into vibrant convulsions again.
"Oh, Judd, that's, that, feels..."
"Yeah? How's it feel, baby? Tell daddy, how's it feel?"
"Good," I moaned, "very good, hot, wet and hot and good..."
His hand had left my breast and had slid down onto my stomach once again. Under his light touch, my stomach muscles pulled in, loosening the waist of the already baggy jeans which I was wearing.
Lightly but quickly, his fingers darted to the spot where the material had been. His daunting fingers continued to graze across my skin, his other fingers were busy with the fly of the jeans.
"I'll tell you what," he said, suddenly, "why don't you take your under things off. I'll look the other way if you're embarrassed. That way they won't get ruined or anything."
An alarm went off inside of me. I knew I should have said "no." But my body was gliding to its feet, walking a few steps from him and undressing in the cool night.
I removed my under things as he suggested and then put the shirt and jeans back on, buttoning both, completely.
"Aw," he chided when I returned, "after all I went through to make my little progress you have to button it all up again."
I stood over him, wobbling on my feet, feeling dizzy.
"Come," he beckoned, holding out his hand for me. "Lie back down. You'll feel better. Lie back down, baby. Relax for daddy, again.
The tone of his voice drew me down. I found myself stretching out next to him. My firm breasts pressed against the material of the shirt. It felt good.
Quickly he took up his position beside me with his warm breath covering me.
He reached behind him and retrieved the can.
"Fran," he asked, "would you like to do something for daddy? Huh."
"What is it?" I asked.
"Just trust me, please. You know I won't hurt you, don't you?"
"Yes," I said honestly, putting my trust in him.
"Then just lie there and open your mouth and swallow for me. Close your eyes..."
I did as he instructed. I closed my eyes and opened my mouth. Shortly, I felt his lips come to me. Then I felt the warm liquid draining from his full mouth into mine. I tried to swallow all he gave me.
But I didn't like the taste, now. It was strong and warm. It burned. But I didn't want to displease Judd. He was so gentle...
"There," he announced after several transfusions, "that wasn't so bad, was it?"
"No, not really," I confessed.
His hands were on me again. This time I didn't tense. I didn't resist. I trusted him...
The shirt was open.
The fly of the jeans was open...
His hands were all over me, teasing, taunting, coaxing, playing.
"Oh, Judd," I cried, "what are you doing to me?"
But I didn't really care. I had to ask, but I didn't really care. I needed to know, but I didn't want to know.
"I'm making you ready for daddy ... you want to come to daddy, don't you, Fran?"
Silence.
"Don't you? Don't you want to come to daddy the way he wants you to? Don't you want to be my baby ... my love ... don't you, huh?"
"Oh, yes," I blurted out. "Oh yes! I want to come to you, Judd. I really do..."
"Not Judd, baby, Daddy, that's who I am, Daddy, and you're my momma, you want to be my momma, don't you, tell me, don't you?"
"Oh, yes!" I answered quickly, excitedly. "Anything you want, Ju..."
"Daddy!" he snapped, cutting my words short.
"Daddy," I went on, "Anything you want, daddy."
"That's better." He was serious-he meant it.
All this while his hands had been busy, roving over my bared flesh, firing it up so that each time he touched me, it felt like a knife being driven into me.
"What does a daddy have that a momma doesn't?" He was still serious.
"I, I, I, don't know," I said thickly.
"Yes you do, baby, yes, you do," he said.
His hand took mind and pulled it down to his waist, where it pressed against his body. My fingers involuntarily closed around a hard mound of flesh.
Another little alarm bell sounded in my brain, telling me to run, to stop, to get up.
But my fingers were curious. They closed themselves around the hardness under them.
"Know what that is, baby?" Judd said to me. "Know what you've got hold of?"
"Your, your," I couldn't say it.
"What is it, baby. Tell daddy what it is, tell him, come on, baby, tell him, what is it?"
"Your," Again I couldn't push the word past my lips.
"Cock!" he spat harshly into my ear, causing it to ring. "That's cock! That's your daddy's cock! Remember that, that's your daddy's cock!" His voice was urgent, tense, excited. It was commanding.
"Yes," I heard myself whispering softly, "it's your cock, my cock, my daddy's cock."
"Yeah, that's it, that's our cock, you're gonna love it, aren't you, baby? Huh? You're going to love it, ain't you?"
"Yes," I answered blankly, not having any idea of what was about to happen. I was innocent and ignorant of the facts.
But I wasn't long in the dark.
He quickly raised his body and turned it around so that his groin was next to me, and his head was next to mine.
His arm came over my body and gently pulled me onto my side, rolling me against his hard body.
"Smell it, baby," I heard him tell me.
I obeyed him like a little child. I took a deep breath, the pungent odor of masculinity filled my nostrils, setting my already heavy head to spinning. Over and over again I sniffed at the material, pressing my nose against it at his urging.
At the same time I could feel his hot breath filling the open fly of the jeans. The warmth crept over my body like honey, slowly covering my whole frame.
"What's the next thing a momma does for her daddy," he asked.
I did not know what to answer, so I remained silent.
"She makes love to it," he told me after a long pause. "She makes love to it, she kisses it and she makes love to it. You want to do that for me, don't you baby? You want your daddy to feel good, don't you? Don't you want to make your daddy feel good by kissing his cock, don't you?"
The thought repulsed me. Even in my condition hot and drunk-the thought of making love to his cock repulsed me. I didn't answer him.
"Don't you?" he repeated, his voice again sounding impatient.
"Yes, yes," I finally managed to say.
"Then, do it, baby kiss it."
All the while he had been talking to me, he had been talking into my groin. The flash of his breath as he hissed out his words were drenching my pubic area with excitement.
And when his tongue touched it, I literally jumped. My body tensed and twitched.
He held me steady. His hard hands clung to my hips, holding me within range as he continued to torment my groin.
I cautiously pressed my face to the hardness beneath the material and kissed it, lightly, experimentally. Then I withdrew my head, thinking I had accomplished my mission.
"Surely, you can do better than that, can't you, baby?" he asked, coaxingly.
The sound of his voice did coax me. I tried again, this time placing more pressure on his cock.
"That's better," he said, "but not as good as I know you can do, if you didn't have the pants to worry about, Don't you think so, baby, don't you think you could do a better job if you didn't have that awful material in your way to hamper you, Huh?"
He was almost talking to me like a baby. It was, somehow, reassuring. I knew I could trust him. I didn't have to fear him...
Tentatively, I reached up and undid two of the top buttons of his jeans. Because the material was pulled so tight, they popped with much force as to pull the third one open, also.
In the moonlight I could see nothing but a black patch. I pressed my face into it and again smelled the strong odor of male perspiration. It was heady. It was exciting. I pressed my face into it further.
"Oh!" I heard myself saying, "Oh!"
"Yeah baby, you like that, don't you, that smell is what you want, ain't it, it turns you on, don't it? A cock is what you've been looking for, ain't it. A hot cock, to lick, to smell,"
He was putting thoughts into my head, but I felt as though these were my own thoughts. I knew I was hearing them come from him, but I felt that I had already thought of them, felt that I had decided that was what I wanted to do...
A third time I lowered my face into the darkness of his groin. A third time I filled my lungs with the strong odor of masculinity.
And then my tongue came out.
It tangled in the coarse hairs. It probed deep into the wiry bush; deeper, until it hit the bottom; deeper, until it touched the flesh from which the hair grew.
"Yeah, baby, go after it, slow and easy, just relax and let it happen, You want it to happen, don't you, you want it, want it, don't you, huh? You want it, tell me, baby. Tell me you want it!"
"Oh I do," I moaned. "I want it, I really do, I want it because you want me to, but I want it."
"Then go after it," he encouraged. "It's all yours, baby, all yours, yours to love, to do with whatever you want, anything, go after it, baby!"
The sound of his muffled voice and the feel of his tongue against my groin drove me on. I don't think I wanted to do it, but I felt compelled. My mind was upside down with sex and drink. What I didn't want, I wanted. What I shouldn't do, I wanted to do.
I shouldn't have had my face on his cock. So, I buried my face deeply in his crotch, pulling at the hairs, pulling at the material, feeling another button hampering me.
I yanked it, fumbling for a minute because I couldn't get the material of the pants away. I wanted to see it, to touch it, but at the same time I didn't. So much confusion rained down on me.
I lowered my face into him still more. I probed with my tongue. I licked at the moist hairs. I could taste the saltiness of his flesh.
My chin rubbed against it.
I raised my head, slightly. But before I could do anything, I heard Judd talking to me again.
"You're getting close, baby, you're getting down to it, cock, baby, cock, your daddy's cock, that cock that makes him feel so very, very fucking good."
"Yes," I heard myself saying, "yes, I want to do it for you, I want you to feel good, I want you to like it." I still wasn't sure what it was. But I knew that I would soon be finding out. I'd been looking for it, hadn't I? A hot cock to lick to smell.
"Then try me, baby, see if you like it."
Though these were my own thoughts, they sounded as if they were coming from his cock.
And I touched it!
I touched the base!
It was hard!
It was firm!
It was fat!!
It was hard flesh, cock!
My lips were on it, slipping back and forth, over the small amount of it bared to me. My tongue was wetting it, licking it, lapping it.
"Yeah," I heard muffled from my crotch, "yeah, go at it, baby, go at it! Make your daddy feel real good, make him like his momma, do it for him."
Oh, how I wanted to please this man, this boy! Oh, how I wanted to do what would make him happier than being from Carolina.
I pulled and tugged at the hardness and it burst free from confinement and stood away from his body-long, fat, stiff.
It was mammoth. It was huge!
It seemed to be at least seven or eight inches long. The head of it was covered with loose folds of skin; and through the loose skin shone a pink dot.
The head seemed to be twice the size of the stem. It flared out and looked like a ball atop a flag pole.
I opened my mouth and covered the huge head with my lips. It filled my mouth. I gagged because of its fullness. But I held myself steady until I quit choking and gagging. I really did want to be his momma.
I touched the head with my tongue. I began to rub it around in circular motions, pressing it lower and lower, down over the hardened ball of flesh.
I felt his hand come down to his stick and grasp it right at my mouth. Slowly it started to move away from my lips, pulling the loose folds of skin with it. Slowly, the pink hot flesh beneath was uncovered, baring the pungent taste of his lubricating juices.
The taste was sweet and it was salty. I couldn't tell which. Both, I supposed. Anyhow, it tasted good. I wanted him to enjoy it, too.
"That's it, baby, Make daddy feel good, love it, suck it for him, make him feel it, love it, love him."
I continued my efforts. I moved my hand back and forth, as I had seen him doing, stroking the length of his manhood. All this while, I clung desperately to his huge knob of flesh at the end of his rod.
Suddenly, he broke free from me and got to his feet and went to the cycle.
He quickly returned and lay next to me once again. This time his face was next to mine.
"You're being very good to your daddy, you know," he said, patting me gently on the head like a puppy. "You're really pleasing your daddy, did you know that? Huh? Did you know that you're makin' your daddy feel good?"
I smiled weakly, and shook my head, letting him know that I didn't know he was pleased; but I hoped that he was.
"Now," he began, "there's one more thing you gotta do if you really wantta make your daddy feel good-if you wanna become my Momma."
His voice trailed off.
"What's that?" My head was still spinning with the delights of his satisfaction and the beer I had drunk.
"You must really give yourself to your daddy. I mean, really give yourself."
"How?"
"You must, give yourself, to me, like I gave myself to you," he said.
"You mean I must let you lick my groin?"
"No, that's not really what I mean," he looked at me for a second. "I mean something more. You must give your womanhood to me so that I really know you're mine. You want to do that for me, don't you?"
I hesitated. I was becoming concerned. Suddenly, I knew what he meant.
"But, I can't!"
"Why not? Don't you want to please me, baby? Don't you want your daddy to feel good?"
"Oh, yes," I said quickly, "but I, I," I couldn't finish.
"But what? What is it, baby, Don't you want to make me feel good? Huh? Don't you?"
"Yes, but, But I'm still, a virgin."
"Yes. I know," he said, saving me the pain of having to say it aloud. "That is exactly what I'm talking about. That's what I want you to give me, pure, untouched womanhood. That isn't askin' too much, is it? Huh?"
I tried to answer. I couldn't. So, I shrugged my shoulders, helplessly.
"Tell you what," he said, thoughtfully, "I'm not supposed to help you at all. I mean, you gotta give yourself to me. But I can make it easier for you, if you'll trust me, you do trust me, don't you, baby?"
The softness and tone of his voice wilted my resistance. I had to please him. I told him so, I told him that I trusted him.
Once again he had me lie flat and he placed his head over me. He lowered his lips to mine. I felt the liquid falling from his mouth into mine. I swallowed, obediently.
But it burned!
I gagged. I choked. Fire seared my throat.
"Relax, baby," he said smoothly. "It's only the vodka. It burns a little at first, but it won't hurt you, really. Trust me, relax."
Slowly I let my body relax again. Again I endured the fire, once, twice, three times until the small bottle was empty.
Then Judd lay next to me and loved me. His hands were roaming all over me, inflaming me on the outside to match the inner flames.
My ears were ringing. The crickets, which I don't remember hearing before, deafened me. I was in a daze, a drunken stupor.
"Are you ready to give yourself to me, baby? Ready to give yourself to your daddy? Ready to make him feel good? Ready to become his momma? Huh? Are you ready?"
"Yes," I answered, thickly, my voice filling my throat like a wad of cotton.
"Now you do exactly like I tell you. It won't hurt at all, trust me."
I trusted him.
He reached down, and unbuttoned the top button on both pairs of jeans. His fitted him snugly, and were pulled apart easily, baring his rampant rod which stood up in the night.
Mine, which fitted more loosely, settled low on my hips. He reached into his back pocket and quickly produced a small pen knife. Deftly, he slit the bottom of the fly on my jeans. The material parted, exposing me to him.
"Now," he said, lying back in the grass with his hands behind his head, "now you must give yourself to me just the way I tell you. Are you ready?"
I nodded my head.
"Get on top of me and lay down, then," he instructed. I did.
"Now, reach behind you between your legs and take my cock, my cock, and press it between your legs." I did.
"Ah, that's it, Now, slowly, press your body down and back against it, come on, it won't hurt you, relax and press back."
Again I obeyed.
"That's it, baby, that's the way to do it, and it doesn't hurt a bit, does it?"
I had to agree with him. It didn't hurt at all. The pressure of his hardened member was pressing at the tightness of my womanhood. But it did not hurt.
"Now baby," he was saying, "press back a little harder, until it begins to feel tight, that's it, back, further, more, more, yeah, feel it? Feel it getting tighter?"
I told him I did. The firmness of his flesh was wedging itself into me, painfully, slowly, insistently. The pain was foreign and almost unbearable. I wanted to scream, to cry. I wanted desperately to draw back to ease the pain.
"Yeah, that's great, I can feel you heating me up already, that box of yours is on fire, hot box you got, baby, hot box, sweet, tight, hot box!"
I heard him through a haze. But I knew that he wasn't talking to me. He was talking to himself. I pressed back, still harder and in spite of the intense pains. Suddenly, I noticed that while the pain was still present, it was becoming bearable. Why, I couldn't understand; for, it seemed to me that it should be becoming worse. Instead, it was becoming less and less.
It was as though the pain was being swallowed by a growing fire. Inside of me a flame was being kindled, sparked by the pressure of his tool. I had never felt this way before. Strangely, when I thought I should not be enjoying this because my mind said it was wrong, I was enjoying it immensely. My body was warm all over and pleasantly excited. And the sheer growth of this new excitement was an excitement in itself.
I heard him, but he wasn't talking to me. He was talking to himself. I pressed back, still harder.
"Oh, baby," I heard him say, "You're makin' it! You're really makin' it. Swivel those hips for me now. Come on, work 'em, let me feel you roll them on top of me, roll 'em!"
His voice carried urgency and a tight, impatient control. I knew that I was pleasing him. I knew that I was exciting him, as I was being excited too. I knew, now, that I was arousing him. And, now, I also knew what it meant to arouse a person.
T did his bidding. I rocked my body, rolling it on top of his firmness beneath me. I felt the hardness of his zipper press into my breasts-he hadn't removed his jacket!
But somehow, it didn't seem wrong. For I was more concerned with my own condition at the moment. I wanted to please my daddy....
"Work 'em, baby, that's it, you want me to feel good, don't you, good, work those hips, that's it, keep pressing down, press down, more, ah, that's done it, the head's in there, baby. Now we must topple the walls, mustn't we? We must open the gates for Daddy and make him feel good, we must give ourself to him, mustn't we?"
I pressed back against his manhood-hard and I could feel the resistance within me. I couldn't press back any further.
"It hurts me," I told him. The pain seeming to be a thousand miles away, still was of great concern to me.
"But it's supposed to, baby. You're making the supreme sacrifice for your daddy. You can never do this again. It must hurt you some. Let yourself go. Just relax, grunt, grunt hard, harder. Ah, that's it. Are you ready, baby? Are you ready to give yourself to me?"
I was grunting as hard as I could and I could only nod my head to him. My ears were ringing. My head was buzzing. My body tingled all over.
Suddenly, it happened!
The calm man under me shot into action. He became an animal. He bucked up under me, driving his hardness into me all the way possible.
Searing pains engulfed my body. I screamed with the sudden, violent pain.
As the echoes came crashing back on my ears, darkness closed around me. I was sinking.
I have no idea of how much time elapsed before I regained consciousness. But when I did, the pain was still there. It was now mingled with a sort of pleasure. There was a strange itching sensation in my groin, mixed with the pain that only friction could satisfy. But friction also had caused the pain.
Judd had rolled me over onto my back. He was now on top of me, breathing heavy. His body was tense.
"There-there-there," I heard him saying to me. "The worst is over now. Now you can enjoy yourself, baby. Now you're really my momma. Your box is mine. You belong to me. You're mine!"
With these words, and after having assured himself that I was again conscious, he began pumping himself down onto and into me. His hardness filled me to more than capacity. I felt as though I was splitting. Each time he would press down on me, I could feel the hardness of him escape against the tenderness of my insides. It hurt! It felt good! And I wanted more and more of it!
His body was wet with his sweat. I knew that he must have been fucking me while I was unconscious. For he couldn't have worked up such a sweat in the few strokes he had taken. Not that I knew of, anyway.
His breath was hot on my face. He continued to talk into my ear, to incite me to desire, to coax me into higher levels of excitement. He didn't know that he needn't, for I didn't bother to try to tell him. I just, listened, felt, and enjoyed.
Suddenly, I realized that we were both talking. Both of us were chattering incoherently. Each of us was talking to himself, and to each other. We were calling to the wind, and the night.
Yet, neither of us was listening to the other.
Because both of us were fucking.
My body thrashed under him, now, working madly, trying to satisfy the intense itching, the new craving, the mad desire within my loins.
My desire surmounted my pain and I pumped back against him. I arched my back, rolled my hips. I did anything and everything to satisfy the feelings that were urging me on.
He rolled off me. Quickly I got over him again, straddling him, finding his throbbing rod and replacing it in the tightness that was now my womanhood-the hot slit that was my cunt, that was my daddy's cunt.
I slammed my body down on his upright shaft. A scream burst from my lungs. This new position bared me to him, completely.
"That's it, baby. That's it, momma." He was groaning beneath me. "Ride your daddy. Take your daddy. Make him feel good. Give him his cunt. That cunt that's all his now. Give it to him. Feed it to him."
His words propelled me. My body was throbbing. I was riding up and down on his cock like a well-lubricated piston. The pain was excruciating. The pleasure was indescribable.
From somewhere deep inside of me a new sensation began. My insides were being tied in knots. My motions quickened as my body tensed. I knew that I was waiting for something-something new-to happen. I moaned.
I didn't know what was about to happen. Judd did. He reached up and took hold of my tit nipples and started pinching them.
"Yeah, momma," he said, "go to it. Give it to me. Take it from me. Let me feel it happen. Ride that cock, momma. Ride that cock. Go!"
I rode his cock, up and down with full strokes. The mammoth head slipped from me time and time again, only to be slammed back into my guts.
The feeling continued to increase. It was more and more like a pressure being built up inside me. Moans broke faster as my lungs and throat tightened. I was bathed in white hot flashes.
Now, I knew it was going to happen. "Now!" I screamed at the top of my lungs.
As I yelled this, Judd raised his hips, while holding me firmly implanted on his tool. I felt it twitch, throb. And I felt the hotness draining into me. Throb after throb, he poured his fiery liquid into me.
When I thought that he was almost through, I felt it happening to me. Waves of liquid shot down my canal. Hot juices slithered past his throbbing, twitching manhood, fell out of me and matted on our groins. My cunt muscles contracted, pulling at his cock, milking it as I dumped my own juices.
Now I was a woman. My first orgasm as a woman. My first real orgasm with a man. A man with a mammoth cock stabbing me. He was my daddy.
Exhausted, from my first experience, I collapsed on top of him.
We lay there for some time, both of us exhausted. His cock was still lodged inside of me. It was still hard, still rigid, still alive.
Finally, the pain became stronger. I pulled myself off him, making a slushing sound as I did so.
I stood up and screamed.
My groin, the jeans, and Judd's jeans were bathed in matted red blood! I could see it glowing in the moonlight.
"Don't worry, baby," Judd comforted me. "It won't happen again. Just the first time, just when that wall is broken down. Now you're a woman. You won't bleed like that again."
"If you knew this would happen, why didn't you have us take all our clothes off?" I was incredulous, not with the sight of the blood, but with my stupidity and his forgetfulness. And with shock, for I really hadn't expected all this.
"Because, we need them for proof."
"What proof?"
"For the gang," he explained. "I've got to have the blood as proof that you gave yourself to me. That you're really my momma."
I didn't really understand him. But I was in no condition to press the matter.
"Now," he said, "suppose we get you back to town and get you cleaned up. Your parents are gonna be worried about you."
We got onto the motor bike again and started for town.
Judd had retained his hard-on and left it hanging out of his pants.
I held on to him with one hand and stroked it with my free hand all the way back to town. Every once in a while, at his direction, I wet my palm with saliva and massaged the head.
Just as we were approaching the city limits, he instructed me to squeeze the head and pull the skin forward.
I did so. And as I did, I could feel his cock throb in my grasp. When the jerking subsided, I eased my hold on the loose skin which I had been holding and let it pull back. My hand filled with the thick cream which he had ejaculated.
"Now, if you was really a momma and wanted to please your daddy, you'd taste that and tell me what it tastes like," he suggested.
I shuddered at the idea. But as I wanted to please him, I timidly put my dripping palm to my lips and licked.
I gagged and wretched. The smell was awfully strong. The taste was even stronger, and sort of salty. But I made myself take it down-not just a taste, but all of it.
"How was it?" he shouted back at me over the roar of the cycle.
"It's gone," I shouted back at him. "It's gone, like you wanted."
"Good!" He smiled, tucking his cock back into his pants and picking up speed.