Chapter 1
Marla thrust out her firm tits to make the full globes appear even more prominent, hoping that the man would keep his eyes glued on her boobs and not on her fearful face. She tried to relax and act eager as he put his arm around her waist, guiding her through the moonlit darkness blanket-ing the beach, taking them farther along the shore she had requested.
Suddenly, his arm tightened around her slender, supple waist, stopping her.
Marla trembled again and sucked in her breath. She wanted to pull away from him, to run for dear life. Her dinner lay in her stomach like wet sand. She forced herself to stand there and smile in the moonlight at him.
The man was sweating beside her. His breathing was labored, and his necktie flapped in her face. The dampness of his palm came through her mini and made her feel unclean and more ashamed than the other times.
"Easy, honey," he said, forcing a winded laugh. "I'm not a kid like you any more. Walking through this sand is tough going. Any farther, and I won't be able to get a hard-on. You wouldn't want that, would you?"
The smile became frozen on Marla's face. She nearly gagged with fright. She glanced ahead and all around looking for the right palm tree. They suddenly looked all alike, and a sense of panic seized her.
"No, up farther," she said quickly. "I want to go farther away from the hotel and the lights."
"Aw, nobody's going to be looking. So what if they do, anyway? I don't give a damn. At my age, I'm too old to give a damn. I want to advertise it a little, get me? Morrie can still make it-on the beach and under the moonlight, yet." He gave a strangled kind of laugh and hugged her tighter. "Hey, come on, honey, this is far enough."
"Just a little more," Marla said, pulling against his arm.
He stopped in his tracks. A gleam of light from somewhere glinted from his eye. "Why?" he asked, his voice low and rough. "What's up ahead there? What are you trying to lead me into-your boy friend? Is that your game?"
Marla tossed a strand of blonde hair from her face. Her teeth chattered a moment, and she stopped them by clenching her jaw. Her smile remained fixed on her round, wide-cheeked face by sheer will, and she thrust her boobs towards him as she'd been instructed, showing him they were full and tipped at the ends. The constant breeze tugged at her mini and made the hem flap about her thigh and lift to her crotch.
"Boy friend?" she asked innocently. "What you talking about? I don't have a boy friend. Really, Morrie, that's the truth."
"Then what's your game, baby?" He grabbed her by her upper arms and made her face him. He held her close. The ends of her tits rubbed against his coat and pinned his tie to his chest. She thought of her father doing this to her three years ago, and her mind reeled for a moment with fear.
"You're hurting me," she whimpered.
"Come clean, honey," he growled, glancing around the deserted beach. "There's got to be a reason you picked me. It's not my kind of luck to come out of a place and just run into a girl like you, who says she's waiting for the first man to come along because she's made up her mind she doesn't want to be a virgin any more." He laughed sharply, looking at her tits and the way her mini was plastered to her fine body by the wind. "It's a good line. I haven't heard it before, and that's why I came out here. But I've got enough sand in my shoes. We'll screw here."
"No . . . she whimpered, trying to tug away again. She was finished. She wasn't going to do this any more, not for anybody. Then she feared what would happen to her if she scared him off and made him leave her there, and she tried to soften her voice and make it alluring. "Just a little farther, Morrie," she purred.
His fingers were digging into the flesh of her arms. She could feel her tits flatten against him again and send a horrible throbbing sensation through her body. His knee was between her soft thighs, inching higher towards her trembling, virginal cuntlips, nestled so softly inside her panties and now beginning to shift and swell shamelessly.
Waves of guilt piled and broke inside her, just the way the breakers in front of her hissed up the sandy beach. The way he talked made everything sound terrible, so cheap. It made her realize with full force what she was doing with herself, with her pride and her life. It made her feel she was plummeting toward some dark abyss of depravity where there would be nothing of value to cling to any more-not even Nick, because it was Nick who was making her do this degrading thing right now.
"This is it," he said gruffly, giving her a small shake. "You wanted to come out here on the beach and ball here instead of in my room. All right, I'll play your game, but only to here." He glanced around again, his eyes sweeping through the moonlit darkness. There were no other forms but the low dunes, the bent palm trunks no man could hide behind successfully. He seemed satisfied that he wasn't going to be jumped, and he looked at Marla again. "Come on, sweetheart, I've got to see this virgin pussy you've been telling me about. I've never seen a cherry before, let alone popped one. Or maybe a looker like you hasn't had it for a long time, huh? That's all right, you've got me wanting to fuck you anyway, cherry or not."
"Oh, God," Marla choked quietly. His voice was heavy with scorn. His hand was on her tit, the other one around the back of her waist, holding her body to his. She could feel the ready lift of his prick against her cunt mound, the slide of his hand towards her round, youthful butt.
He began pulling her down, making her drop to her knees in the sand. The hem of her skirt flipped up to her panties, and the glow of the yellow triangle over her sweet twat was soft, showing its fullness. His hand found her pussy and massaged it, and she couldn't suppress a low moan of shameful desire.
"No, stop!" she cried.
"What do you mean, stop? You don't get me to come out here to fuck you and then tell me to stop just because your boy friend didn't show up the way he was supposed to. That's part of the hazards of your game, honey. Sometimes all the connections don't click just right, and you're left with nothing to do but follow through and take a little prick. What's wrong with that? Strange cock never hurt any girl. Some even like it. It turns 'em on and makes it better for the boy friend."
"No-no, there's no boy friend, Morrie, I swear it. I-I've changed my mind, that's all. I don't want you to fuck me. No . .. !" She struggled in his grasp and got nowhere. Fright climbed inside her.
"Yeah, well-maybe not. But fair is fair, honey. I took the chance. I came out here with you, and now you owe me for that. I don't want to have to get nasty with you for trying to back out now. I'd rather we just lie here in the warm sand and have a nice, slow, enjoyable fuck-maybe two or three, you never can tell what this prick of mine is good for any more. Come on, let's see what kind of soft, wet goodies you've got wrapped up in those panties for Morrie."
His hand spread over her cunt mound and went down under her crotch, forcing her thighs apart and her knees to scrape against big shells in the sand. His fingers curled around her pussylips and made tendrils of sensation throb through her body in shameful waves.
She tried to shut the degrading tingles out of her consciousness and couldn't believe this crude man was making her feel them. Yet, her pussylips were bloating shamefully under his touch, and her nipples were sprouting inside the top of her dress and rubbing sensitively against the material of it.
She shivered strongly and cried, "Oh, God-stop! Please, I've changed my mind, I don't want you to fuck me!"
"Yeah, bullshit, honey," he said, holding her ass tightly in his palm and stopped her from struggling away from him. "You should have changed it a couple of years ago if you didn't want to get your pussy popped open. A looker like you-what's it been, baby? Three years? Were you fourteen the first time? Don't tell me you're still a virgin. Not when your cunt's this wet, not when I can hear it slopping around when I squeeze these fat lips. Christ, look at the way your tits ballooned out-baby, you're begging for it."
"Please, let me go-you're all wrong!" she cried, close to tears from the horrible way her body was betraying her.
"Huh-uh," he said, shaking his head. "You've got me in the mood for a fuck, now. You've got to come across. What's the big deal, anyway? What's one more prick going to matter to you? Maybe you'll like it. Old Morrie used to be a pretty good fucker with the girls." He licked his lips and placed the flat of his hand squarely over her cunt mound and squeezed rhythmically. Marla could hear the telltale, sticky sounds he brought forth from her twat, and her shame soared. "But I never had a girl try to back out on me by telling me she was still a virgin and had changed her mind."
"It's true!" Marla cried. "I swear, it's true!"
"Yeah," he croaked, pulling her over into the sand and making his body fit half over hers. His chest mashed against her tit, and he had one of his legs hooked over her thigh, pulling her legs apart so that his hand could continue the degrading massage of her blazing-hot cunt.
"Morrie, stop!" she pleaded again.
"Look, baby, I don't care any more if you got a cherry. There's no need for this. Maybe you had it rough the first time, and you're scared now. Don't be. I'll be easy with you. I know how to screw so , it'll feel real good for you. Cherry or not, it'll be good, honey, I promise."
Marla was beside herself. She had always imagined she could handle a situation like this with one swift knee to the balls, but she found there was no way for her to accomplish that now, not when he had her pinned on her back the way she was.
The ocean breeze caressed her thighs and seemed to aid his purpose by lifting her skirt out of the way of his hand. Particles of sand nipped against her cheek and swirled away. She felt the sand give under her head, and the stars above her seemed to be turning faster and faster with each daring probe of his fingers on her cunt.
His guess had been too good. It was exactly three years ago that her father had tried this same thing with her, pinning her down to the beach when they'd gone for a night swim, running his hand over her bikini-pantied pussy, telling her that it was all right, that it was time for her to learn about fucking. The shame of the memory and the terrible guilt she had felt then when her mother guessed the secret after she'd run home from her father returned to her now in dizzying waves.
Morrie ran his fingers up and down the line of her puffy cunt, tracing it through the wet nylon of her panties. He teased her twatlips, pinching them and rolling them, making the yellow nylon dip into the soft gash and come out wet.
He had a soft touch, one that thrilled her despite herself. She thought it strange that he would try to be gentle with her. She wished he would be as rough as the last one had been so that she wouldn't feel the wonderful sensations he was making her feel. Then, there could be anger or disgust or some other emotion inside her, one more suited to the way she should feel than the growing desire welling up against her will.
Oh, nooo," she wailed softly, feeling his hands smooth over her inner thighs, over her pan tied pussylips, around and under to her buttcheeks. She hated herself for the way her hips lifted with no real encouragement from him, the way her ass lifted from the sand and permitted his hand to cup it.
"Oh, that's it, honey-lift up that sweet ass for Morrie. God, you really know how to make an old man feel young again, don't you? The sap's rising, sweetheart," he puffed. "It's getting to be that time when the play stops and the fun begins. Come on, off with the panties. God, I don't know how we're going to do this without getting some sand in your pussy. I'd hate to do that. I know it's going to be soft and sweet, and I'd hate to do that. I know it's going to be soft and sweet, and I'd hate to get sand in it."
Marla was fighting with his hand. She thrashed her legs, trying somehow to get them under her so that she could stand and run. She whipped her head back and forth, looking from one end of the dark beach to the other, but they were all alone. It was going to happen. She could feel inside that she was going to get fucked, and she trembled, feeling the feebleness of her struggles.
"No, stop!" she yelled with a sudden burst. "I wasn't lying, Morrie, I wasn't! I don't want to go through with it now!"
"Oh, come off it, girlie," he scoffed, yanking at her panties, bringing them to the side of her hip, nearly baring the round, white globe of one bun.
"A girl doesn't come up to a stranger and want to get her cherry popped like that. I didn't believe your line for a minute then, and I don't now. I call a spade for what it is, baby, and you're nothing but a hooker-a delectable one, but a hooker still. Even if by a wild chance you aren't, you're going to be fucked some day anyway. Why not now? Why not get it over with? I'll not only be good with you, I'll make it worth your while, get me?"
He plunged his hand into her panties and filled his fingers with the soft meat of her pussylips. He squeezed them and rolled them, his knuckles bulging her crotchband, his fingers tangling in her pubes, and Marla couldn't stop the moan that slipped from her throat. Nor could she stop the feeling of overwhelming despair at the discovery that the mass of cunt flesh between her thighs was slippery and fragrant in his fingers.
"Listen," he said softly, putting his lips to her ear. "Feel how slick and wet everything is. Don't tell me your pussy isn't watering for old Morrie's cock." He raised his head and looked quickly up and down the beach again. "Your boy friend still hasn't shown. Let's face it, honey, something slipped up. But that's all right-now you've got a chance to bang one off without the boy friend knowing, huh? Just like me. My wife doesn't know I'm lying here on the beach with a gorgeous young girl, my hand playing with her pussy, my prick about ready to rip through my pants. See, we've got something in common after all. Let's make the most of it, honey. Let's really fuck up a storm."
"No! No, I can't go through with it!" she cried, twisting and thrashing, making her rump sink into the sand.
She felt pinned. One of his hands was inside the top of her dress, and it was squeezing and rolling her tits around over her chest. The other one was sliding up and down her silken gash, and she was afraid to make any quick movement for fear that she would impale her cunt on his fingers by accident.
Adding to her torment was the knowledge of the way her body was responding to his touch. She couldn't believe it. What baseness was there inside her that could make her respond so avidly to a stranger-to an old stranger, one her father's age? There was no question about the way her pussy was watering. With each squeeze of his fingers, a new gush came from between her virginal cuntlips, as if her snatch were trying to outdo the ocean itself.
Damn Nick! she cried inwardly, unable to suppress another moan when Morrie's finger slid along her swollen, naked gash and circled at the top of her cleft. Her clit seemed to spring forth and beg for the finger to touch it, and she groaned again with the depravity of it.
"Like that, huh?" he grinned through the darkness. "I like it that you like it. Feel this and see how much I like it."
He took her hand and drew it towards his lap. Marla tried to pull back, but he was strong. Her fingers brushed the hot, rigid cock rising over her thighs, and she sucked in a quick breath. She felt herself flush and go hot all over. She felt her betraying fingers open and curl around the meaty cockshaft and close again, squeezing his prick, exploring the soft-hard velvetiness of it, sensing all the ridges and veins and the throbbing vibrancy of his rod. A thrill of unbelievable intensity ran through her and made her twat throb again and again as she imagined all that meat going into her tiny hole, shoving up into her virginal cunt.
"No!" she cried, tossing her head. "No, take it away!" But her fingers wouldn't release the big cock, and he chuckled softly.
"You want it, baby. Quit being so childish. Oh, Christ, quit squeezing it like that, or you'll make me pop before I get it inside your cunt. Ohhh, I haven't had a young ass grab my cock like that in a long time, baby. Oh, you're going to be one hot fuck! God, let's get these damn panties off so that I can spread your beautiful thighs wide and stick it home, or I'll rip right through them. Yeah," he laughed, nervous and excited. "And we can pretend the panty is your cherry, huh?"
He yanked at the fragile garment. The nylon dug into her soft flesh and made her whimper with a moment of pain. She twisted her hips to keep him from rolling them off her right buttcheek, and his finger penetrated the mouth of her pussy.
"Oh, God!" she cried sharply, freezing all motion. "No! Take it out! It hurts, take it out!"
Morrie chuckled again and seemed determined to tease her. He moved his finger and pushed against the big muscle at the mouth of her cunt. Sensation throbbed through her body in waves she'd never felt before. Her cunt muscles went wild, all along the length of her soft channel, pulsing and hammering around the emptiness, their reactions having been set off by the presence of his finger at her cunt mouth.
"What do you mean, take it out?" he laughed. "Take it out deeper, huh? My God, I can't believe how soft and silky your pussy is, how wet and trembling. I haven't felt my wife's cunt get that way for twenty years. I'd forgotten they did that.
Shit, let's quit fooling around."
He began to puff. His palm cupped her asscheeks as he slid her panties off over the round globes. There was nothing Marla could do to stop him. If she dared move again, his finger would pierce into her hole, and it would be all over. If she didn't try to move, then, in a moment, his raging prick would bull its way into her slippery hole, and it would be all over anyway. There seemed nothing she could do but pray.
Damn Nick! she cried to herself again. Her head whipped back and forth, and her eyes gave one last frantic search over the empty beach. There was nothing-mo figure, no rescue, no Nick.
The man shifted his hips closer to hers, mounding sand between them, making his prick thrust up into the humid night. A stray beam of light struck his shaft and made it glow whitely in the darkness, making his prick seem twice the size she knew by logic it must be.
The sight struck dread through Marla and made her gasp again. He misunderstood. "Feel good?" he asked huskily. When she didn't answer, he began to rotate his finger in the mouth of her cunt, bringing strange new muscles into play for the first time in her young life. His thumb worked up and down her slit, nosing through oiled pink tissues, circling the quaking nub of her clit.
Marla jerked and whimpered. She tried to ignore the zinging tingles racing through her body, but she felt as if it weren't under the control of her mind any more. She didn't know what was the matter with her. The man was driving her wild, making her want more, and it was happening just the way Sue had said it would. Slutty, wild Sue .. .
You don't get anything out of it the first few, times, when they're feelin' around with their fingers and getting ready to fuck you, working you up the way they think they should, and then-bam!--you start hoping the guys don't show up for another ten minutes maybe, not until you've fucked off a good one.
Marla shook her head, trying to discard the eager, sensual image of Sue from her mind. She wasn't like Sue at all. And there was no hint inside her of hoping that Nick wouldn't show up right now-she wanted him to come desperately. She wanted him to stop this man from fucking her before it was too late, for, of all the words that had been said to Morrie, one thing was absolutely true-at this moment, she was a virgin. Unfucked, unfiddled, and unpetted, and she didn't want that fact to be changed my Morrie or anyone.
"Jesus, get that pussy over here!" Morrie croaked suddenly, shattering her thoughts. "Wrap it around my cock, honey, and let me feel what that young, silky meat is like again."
He breathed in her ear, not seeming to mind that their faces were becoming coated with sand. His lips mashed down over hers, spreading the soft redness of them obscenely, his quick movement taking her completely by surprise. She felt his tongue prod at her mouth, wet and warm and slippery, and there was a primal urge inside her that made her part her lips and teeth and take his tongue inside.
The experience was shocking to her--thrilling and revolting at the same time. She made a low sound in the back of her throat, wanting him to get away from her, to stop overwhelming her with the multitude of wicked sensations.
Marla thrashed on the sand under him. He made another quick movement, and she shouted in the back of her throat. The sound bubbled from her mouth to his, and her body became absolutely rigid under him.
He lifted his head back and looked at her, an expression of surprise creeping slowly over his face. It became astonishment. He flexed his finger again and made another tentative stab into her pussy, and Marla yelled again, flinching more with fear than pain.
"It hurts!" she cried.
"My God," he whispered, his voice barely audible over the constant noise of the surf. "Is that really .. . really a cherry?"
"I told you! You wouldn't believe me, but I was telling you the truth! Oh, don't break it, Morrie, please don't. I've changed my mind, really I have. I want to keep it. Oh, your finger-it hurts, Morrie, don't push so hard!"
The words rushed out of her mouth. Her breath pumped from her lungs in deep drafts. She could feel sweat popping out all over her body. Her fingers clutched and clawed at his arm without effect.
Marla dared not thrash her legs or buck her hips. Her breath caught in her throat several times when she felt the pressure increase and the pain sharpen. She could picture in her mind the way his fingertip was pushing against the thin barrier, indenting it, stretching it to the ripping point, and she sobbed once, harshly.
To add to her torment, Morrie licked his lips and moved his thumb along the outer edge of her gash, swinging it in an arc until it was centered over her clit. He pressed down gently, and a whole new series of emotions swept through Marla's young, innocent body and made her shudder into immediate orgasm.
It was horrible and wonderful at the same instant, degrading in its manner of coming and rapturous in its intensity. She felt her nipples throb and burn, and she felt her pussy spasm and grow even wetter. She couldn't stop the cry of lust that ripped from her throat or the way her hips wanted to twist and churn and buck under his hand. Yet, she somehow managed to keep from doing that and bucking her sucking cunt up over the rest of his finger and swallowing the digit with her pulsing quim.
"Morrie don't!" she whimpered shakily. "Stop pressing! Stop tormenting me, stop!"
"Are you kidding?" he breathed huskily. "A real, live virgin, and you want me to quit? Baby, there aren't that many of you left, not with all this free-love, hippie shit going on all over the place. I missed out when I was a kid, and I won't get another chance to pick a cherry very damn soon, I . . . God, I can't believe it!" His finger became excessively oiled with her juices, and he looked at her more closely, just realizing that she'd come. He breathed heavily and revolved his thumb around her clit some more, seeming to enjoy his power over her eager body and the victory over her protests.
Marla was terrified. She knew there was no way of making him stop, no way that she was going to be able to save her virginity-not unless Nick came and came right now, with Lonny.
She searched the beach once more and saw that it was still empty. There wasn't anywhere Nick could even hide. Damn him, he had sacrificed her purity for nothing! Her own brother!
"Ohhh, sweet pussy," Morrie moaned in her ear. He shook his hand up and down over her twat and made her whole body blaze up again.
"Oh, don't, don't," she moaned.
There was a different moaning to her plea now, a new fear whipping through her. Her3 thighs were beginning to quiver again, but the sensation was deeper, more primitive, coming up from some dark pit of desire she'd been able to keep covered and hidden all these years. It was as if the first orgasm had blown the lid off the pit and was now making her look directly at the writhing, coiling tendrils of lust existing inside herself.
The sight frightened her and filled her wit dread. Tingles went through her whole body and made her groan with torment. She wanted him t pull her thighs wider apart, even spread the: herself, willfully, consciously, degradingly. For a moment, she wanted this man to fuck her, this man who was so much like her father, who was making her feel the things she had felt with her father before the guilt had stopped her from letting him do it.
Marla sucked in her breath and felt her emotions turn around again. The two men blended into one, separated, then blended again, and Morrie's finger became her father's, rolling and rolling over her clit, making her body build to shameful heights. Yet, she knew that her father was dead and that Morrie couldn't be him and that Nick was out there in the dark somewhere, watching her degradation take place when he should be here stopping this man.
"Help!" she cried thinly, rolling her head back and forth, reliving the moment of adolescent terror. "Daddy, don't-please don't..."
Morrie puffed in her ear again. His prick throbbed heatedly against her thigh, stretching into the night. A hand found her tit and rolled it thoroughly over her chest while the other one stayed at her pussy and made sensations boil through it in unbelievable waves. Her legs began to work rhythmically, and she couldn't stop them, even knowing that she might impale her cunt hole on his probing finger.
"Enough horsing around, baby, I can't wait any more," Morrie groaned. "I've got to sink my prick into this slick meat-feel all that unused cunt swallow up my cock and make it flood your hole."
"No-no!" Marla cried. "Don't fuck me! Morrie, don't fuck me!"
He breathed against the side of her neck in a rasping way. His fingers twirled over her clit and around the inside of her pussy, making it water in a flood of its own.
Marla felt her hips twitch under him against her will and knew that she was now a slut no better than Sue. But her thighs quivered wider again, giving him all the access he wanted to her bloated, virginal cuntlips, now so wet and slick he could barely hold the meaty flaps between his fingers.
"What do you mean, don't fuck you?" he asked. "You can hardly hold still for it. Your hips are digging into the sand, and your pussy's leaking all over the place. Honey, you were right the first time-it's time for you to get your cherry popped open. You'll never be readier than you are right now, and Morrie's just the guy to do it. Hold still, now, or you'll get that silken purse full of sand and clog up the works for both of us."
"No ..." she croaked. "No, don't take your fingers away!"
Her head spun as soon as the words were out. Had she really said them? Marla Carver, begging for a man to keep fingering her cunt?
There was sense to it. She tried to cling to the reverse logic and keep herself respectable. As long as his fingers were at her pussy, his prick wouldn't be. Maybe Nick was on his way. Maybe something had happened to detain him, and each second she could delay the moment of penetration might be the second her brother Nick would come.
"Oh, you like that, huh?" Morrie gasped. "Like the finger action?"
"Yes!" she cried, shame whipping through her mind and flailing her emotions. It was a damning admission, cheapening and degrading-the more so because it was true. She did like getting finger-fucked. It was thrilling to her. The touch of his finger at her throbbing clit made tingles blaze through her body and made her suck in her breath as if she would never get enough of it. "Stop, stop!" she cried a moment later, weeping openly for the way her own brother had forced her into this humiliating, hateful situation.
"Stop faster, eh?" Morrie chuckled. "All right, honey, you can have a little more fingering before I stick my prick in there and teach you what it's all about. I know how it must be for a girl like you-beautiful, young, fresh, wanting to fuck like hell but having some kind of screwball hangup stopping you. You aren't the first one I've met. Just the first one that still had her cherry."
He chuckled again and panted at the same time, raising up enough so that he could watch her in the moonlight. He rolled his thumb over her clit again and again, making the little organ swell up and bloat as if it were ready to explode. His finger continued to circle in her pussy mouth and made her muscles spasm and twitch lewdly. He made her s roll and grind in the sand.
But the worst part was the way he watched her, ringing all the guilt and shame into the open as if he were on a stage. Marla could remember her father doing it just that way, too. She'd been able cry out then and scare him enough to get away from him and run to her mother, who knew immediately. It was different now. Her mother was dead, too, and it couldn't be her mother to save her this time. It would have to be Nick-Nick . . . Marla moaned again. She knew that her body as slipping out of her control once more. The first orgasm had taken her by surprise. It had been accidental, having the quality of something external to her, like a book dropping on her foot. Now, it was different. It was internal. She could feel her whole body stretching up, reaching, earning for the big explosion to come and make her pussy throb. He was making her do that, and he knew it was bad.
Scenes flashed through her mind in disjointed sequence. There was her father, drunk, smelling of whisky and cigars and garlic all at once, turning her stomach and gagging her with each puffing breath he emitted in her face while he rolled his finger over her clit and played with the thin patch of curls over her adolescent cunt.
There was Wanda at school-the girls' school her mother had sent her away to keep her out of her father's hands. Fat, creepy Wanda, with oily skin that gleamed in any light, with a nose that ran and sniffed all the time. She'd had floppy tits and a shapeless, massive butt, and fingers that had known just where to touch and when.
Marla shook her head mentally, wondering once again what had gotten into her that night when she'd let Wanda come into her room after lights and get into bed with her and . . .
There was the roommate that one time-Stella something, the one who'd run away after three weeks of the school's rigid discipline, the one who had spent hour after hour sitting in the room with Marla, openly diddling her tiny red-haired twat and rocking her hips when she came, and tried to get Marla to join her.
Stella could have been studying, getting ready for dinner, coming back from a shower, or turning over in bed in the middle of the night-it didn't matter. At any time, she would do it. She would lift her skirt and put her hand into her panties and tip her head back and fuck her pussy with her fingers, heedless of the sloppy sounds she made, not caring after the third day of rooming with Marla whether Marla watched or not. It had been an incredible thing. If Marla had ever entertained any notion of finger-fucking herself, they'd evaporated in a fog of shame and vicarious identification with Stella after those three weeks.
Slutty Sue disgusted her now for the way she fucked her dim-witted, muscular boy friend, Lonny. Maybe Nick, too-a thought that made Marla's heart sink.
And now there was Morrie to add to her disgust with sex, to her degrading history of experiences, where the next was more repugnant than the one before. Morrie, who was old enough to be her father, who smelled of whisky the way her father had, but who handled her with a difference she wished he didn't have. Or maybe the difference was in herself, now, because she was seventeen, because her tits were smooth and pointed and firm and sensitive at all the wrong times, because her pussy had blonde hair curling around it now and got wet inside and out and made thrills shoot through her belly when it was touched.
"God, let me go, let me go!" Marla cried, tossing her head back and forth in the sand and yet clinging to his arm at the same time. "Everybody wants to degrade me and to force me into sex, and I don't want it, I don't want it!"
Morrie watched her. He'd heard that one before, too. He watched the way she bucked her hips up and down under his hand and felt the way her pussy muscles were sucking at his finger. He continued to twirl her clit, and he nearly lost his load all over her thighs when she opened her mouth and groaned and came hard around his fingers.
Marla couldn't stop it. The sensation built inside her until it had to reach some kind of peak. She didn't want to cling to his arm, but she didn't want him to pull it away, either. She felt her cunt quiver and suck and shake around his finger, begging for the penetration that would open it up and make it as lewd as Sue's.
Her buttcheeks clenched together tightly and then pounded up and down in the sand. She could feel the sand cake into her ass crack and grate sensitively against her asshole. She could feel her nipples sprout into the fabric of her dress and her tit swell into his hand. She heard her own sobs of rapture over the noise of the surf, and she couldn't believe she was making the disgusting sounds.
"Nick, Nick!" she sobbed hollowly, hating Morrie, her brother, and herself most of all.
"So there was a boy friend!" Morrie charged. He glanced quickly up and down the beach again in a moment of panic and then shook her. "I thought so. Too bad he didn't show up, eh? Too bad your signals got crossed. Well, don't bitch about it, you just banged off another one, and we've just started. Now, you're going to get to feel a real, live prick inside you because it's time for me to bang one off."
"No-no, please!" she wailed, grabbing at his neck and shoulders, wallowing in lewdness. "Don't take your hand away, Morrie, I've got to have another one like that. God, you've got the best fucking finger I've ever had in my pussy, Morrie. Give it to me again, make me come again, and then you can have my cherry, then you can fuck me open all you want to. Just give me another stab with that prick-sized finger of yours."
The words rolled obscenely out of her mouth with such speed they blurred together and made Morrie simply stare at her. If he couldn't understand them, he could certainly understand the way her hips writhed wantonly, the way her pussy pumped up and down under his hand, the way she kept moving his palm over her twat and moaning as she rolled it.
"Hey, let's not overdo this stuff, baby," he said finally. "I've got to have a little saved for fucking. I'll get you warmed up with a little more finger action, but I don't want to wear you out so much it'd be like fucking a sack of sand."
"Morrie, don't stop-I want you to twiddle my pussy now! Mmm, that finger, Morrie, that finger! Mmm, oh! Oh, God I'm going to come again! AAAGGGH!"
Her eyes popped open. She didn't have to fake it, because it was true. Something had happened inside her, and she felt the swift, hammering rise and then the quick explosion, and she yelled with as much astonishment as anything. She gripped his arm shamelessly and mashed his hand against her cunt. She rocked her crotch up and down, smearing her cunt juice over his palm, fucking his hand openly and without inhibition, not caring how dirty or degrading her actions were any more. She had to do it, and she felt like Stella just then, who had to masturbate all the time. There was something terribly compulsive about it. She felt the shivers go all through her body and take her wind away. She lay back on the sand and panted when she was finished and didn't care if he fucked her now or not.
Morrie looked down at her. His cock was pounding rhythmically. "I'm not waiting any longer, baby," he gasped, gripping the shaft in his fingers, getting to his knees beside her, then forcing her thighs apart and kneeling between them. He stared down into her pink-meated, juicy, bloated, virginal cunt and drooled from his lower lip. His prick trembled alarmingly in his hand, right on the verge of exploding. He gave out a strangled cry and aimed his prick and sank down on top of her, intending to ram all the way into her hot, quivering pussy with one jab, plunging through her thin cherry and planting his steaming, thick load in the back of her cunt.
Marla cried out when she saw him falling. It was a mindless sound that could have meant anything. To Morrie, it was a cry of wanton acceptance of him at last, and he couldn't understand why she twisted her hips to the side and made his cock stab into her thigh.
He grunted with surprise and started to draw back for another shot at her cunt, and she grabbed his prick and held onto it tightly, still making that moaning sound.
Morrie's cock was primed, and her hand was tight. He hunched against her soft belly and felt the wetness between her thighs all over his balls and couldn't stop himself. He cried out with a mixture of fulfillment and emptiness as his cock exploded against the top of her cunt mound and filled her hand with jism.
"Damn! Damn!" he croaked.
Marla cried out with him. The warm flood in her hand was revolting and thrilling at the same time. It surged against her palm and squirted out through her fingers, dribbling over her knuckles and running across her belly and lower abdomen in a hot flood, tangling in her pubes and drooling down the sides of her bloated pussylips into the hollows of her crotch. Marla felt all of it and could trace the slippery path clearly in her mind. She yipped again and again with each new advance of the slippery torrent, and then she was coming again.
It was as if a cork had been pulled out of her somewhere. There was no effort to this orgasm. It just seemed to slip away from her with the touch of his jizz against her pussy folds. She felt inundated with sex. It made her shiver all over with a kind of repulsive pleasure, and then the shivering simply grew stronger and became orgasming, quivering undulations throughout her body.
Marla couldn't stop herself now. It didn't matter how dirty or degrading the whole episode had been to this point or would seem afterwards. He was making her feel all the things she should be feeling, all the things she had fought against feeling. Yet, she was clinging to his back and running her hands up and down the small of it, along his spine and the flat hills of his butt.
Her pussy muscles twitched and spasmed, and her hips bucked up and down under him. He was still puffing from the huge orgasm she'd caused with her hand. Their bellies smeared together under the lubrication of all his sperm, and Marla's emotions were spinning and slipping out of control over the feel of it, and everything was becoming confused. She didn't know whether she wanted his prick inside her cunt now or not. She knew she wanted something-something more . . .
"God, you hot little nymph!" Morrie gasped, feeling her slippery, spermy hands slide over his ass and hips. His cock fairly floated on her stomach in the puddles he'd left there against her satiny skin. It was nearly as good as being inside her slippery cunt. But not quite. "Here it comes, baby," he prowled huskily. "God, you want it now, you ally want it now, and here it comes!" "No! Oh, God-yes! Fuck me! Oh! Ohhh, don't break my cherry! In, in! God, stop, stop!" Marla tossed her head back and forth. Her pussy went wild, flapping and sucking and pulsing, wanting his prick, wanting an end to her childhood d the beginning of womanhood, no matter the cost.
She grabbed for him and pushed at him, opened Br legs wide and then closed them tightly, unable exert any control over her body. She felt disgust the push of his rod into her belly, and then she wanted to feel it up inside her cunt.
Marla didn't know what she wanted. She wished she didn't have to make any kind of decision, and yet she wanted the decision to be hers. She wished she were still safely tucked away in the girls' school, where the threat of a prick fucking into cunt was kept at a great distance. She wished that her parents were still alive and providing for her and Nick and that she wouldn't have to go through this kind of degrading experience any mc*e, just to make a living. She wished Nick were here now to make this man stop, and then she hoped Nick and Lonny wouldn't come at all, so that Morrie would jab his cock into her aching cunt and end it all, as finally as if he'd stabbed her with a sword.
She tossed her head back and forth in the sand. She felt Morrie's prick slip down her belly and prod at the opening between her swollen pussylips. The cockhead slipped off her oiled gash in his haste, came back to circle her clit and make her cry out with indecision, and then drew back to make the fateful stab. She lifted her crotch just as it came, and Morrie's cock slid under her cunt, pillowed through the deep crack between her buttcheeks, and plunged into the sand beneath her ass.
Morrie growled and lifted back, debating whether to clean the grit, glued to his cock with his sperm, from the turgid shaft, or whether to shove the whole reaming mass into her tender hole like a woodworker's rasp.
He didn't have time to make the decision. Marla's eyes were wide open and staring with fright at him, but she finally saw it out of the corner of her eye, towards the south, towards the plush hotel.
At first, she didn't believe what she was seeing. Then she did, for it was exactly what she should have seen a long time ago-before her panties had been ripped from her butt, before her legs had been parted to this man's prick, before he had made her come again and again in so degrading a manner-before he had fouled her body with his vile flood of sperm. She took one more look at Morrie's sand-studded cock and couldn't suppress the cry of terror that welled up inside her. "Nick-hurry!" she bawled. "Hurry!"
Morrie stopped deliberating on the way he was going to fuck her cherry open and gaped at her. Then he looked in the direction she was looking and saw the dark, hulking shape rising up out of the sand not twenty feet south of them.