Chapter 4
After arming himself with a homemade shank, rigging a dummy in his bed and locking his cell door, Tony started back - past the vocational shops, now deserted, the modern architecture suggesting a sleeping industrial center; past Center and the high gates to the big yard, the recreation area; and past the skeleton force, most of them glutted on the food and candy commandeered from the inmate commissary, and those not asleep, those too excited by the riot and the presence of female hostages, insatiable, taking turns on the warden's elderly secretary and the middle-aged civilian storeroom worker. Rumor had it that the warden's Girl Friday was a thrashing nympho. But Tony's thoughts remained with Jeanie Simmons. Not even the sight of the naked well-built women at Center could dissuade him. He crouched low - a darting shadow in the pale moonlight - and raced stealthily past the unattentive watch, past the infirmary, where Slick Jack and the others were cursing loudly enough to be heard outside, belaboring Spider, and again down the path he and the lovely nurse had traveled an hour ago.
Inside the dark tag shop he paused. The thump of the presses had grown labored. He sniffed the air. Grease burning. The bearings were almost shot. Soon the machinery would lock, the unattended gears frozen in protest to match the rioters' hatred of the license plates they were forced to turn out.
Prison! thought Tony. The men had good reason to hate the tag shop - almost as if it were human. It was the state's big moneymaker, and yet the men, those who ran the presses, some working all night to get the new tags out on time each year, were paid a mere few cents a day.
And no cunt! Years of lusting after everything that entered the prison in a skirt, and nights of whacking off.
His dick began to stiffen. "Pussy," he whispered, almost able to smell the fishy aroma of a woman's genitals. The skin on his nuts grew tight. He clutched the front of his pants, groaned softly. Cunt! he thought. A woman's ass grinding beneath him!
He stared longingly into the darkness, in the direction of the heavy door on the supply room at the back of the shop. Jeanie Simmons ... so much like Lo. Blonde and soft. Helpless. At his mercy..
Again he groaned. He threw the steel bolt on the outside door, locking the shop from within, and made his way quickly down the aisle between the thumping machinery.
The packing crates hid her from view of the door. But once the door was closed, locked, and he stood at the foot of the cot, the exquisite split up her blemishless backside and the golden-blonde curls of her young pussy were open to inspection. He'd never seen an ass quite like it - round, a basketball with a tight seam up the middle, and snow-white except for the bruises left by the others. She was a pink and satin-cream doll curled appealingly on the soiled bedding, the hospital gown bunched high on her waist.
"Mother ... !" hissed Tony through clenched teeth. His eyes bulged. His nuts felt like cannon shot. His prick pressed against the seam of the khakis, threatening to explode the zipper into a million tiny brass links.
He moved to the side of the cot, bent close and sniffed the delicious pocket at the back of her closed thighs. He closed his eyes ... remembering ___squeezing his cock while he drank the sweet woman stink and anticipated the struggle to come ... the futile cries ... the parting of the lips of her cunt as his stiffness forced its way up, up. He knew what it meant: the riot would end in a few days, a week at the most, and then the police would come rushing in on him and Slick Jack and the others. Another charge. Rape! He wished he could walk away. He wished the riot had never happened. He wished ...
God! He wished his dick wasn't so hard, and that the girl, breathing evenly in sleep, unaware of his presence, exhausted, wasn't so lovely, so blonde, so much like Lo. But she was - all those things and more. And he had to have her, no matter what the consequences.
Quietly he stripped. Body tense, prick standing rigid, he eased himself onto the soiled bedding behind the adorable sleeping beauty. The cot was small. So small the tip of his rod grazed her silken bottom before he meant it to. The girl stirred. He waited, trembling. He didn't know why it was suddenly important that she remain asleep, but it was. It reminded him of long ago, when he was a boy and spent summer weekends at his aunt's house. Cousin Betty! Not blonde, nor nearly as well-stacked as Jeanie, but nonetheless good even in memory.
He let the tip of his dick burrow in the hot crack of the nurse's ass ... gently ... so as not to wake her. He wanted to savor the moment, just as he'd held back with luscious little Betty. So small. Young. Barely two dozen - he'd counted them, every one! - fine black hairs on her succulent pink pussy.
"Uramm ... ! Baby-baby," he sighed, allowing his meat to dig deeper, close to the heat of the blonde's asshole - but remembering the weekends with Betty; the one in particular when she finally allowed him to go all the way after months of stopping him at the last minute, saying silly things like, "You're my cuz-zin, Tony. Nooo ... !"
He closed his eyes, listened to Jeanie's breathing, waited for it to grow even once more while he recalled the Saturday night Aunt Vi and Uncle Stu went to a Broadway show, leaving him, because he was the oldest - four years thirteen-year-old Cousin Betty's senior - in charge of the button-breasted minx wearing babydoll pajamas.
"You're not my boss," she protested when he ordered her up to bed. She stomped her foot, crinkled her nose at him in the cute way she had of pretending to be angry. "I won't go unless you do too."
"I'm coming," he told her, not far from wrong. His cock had been hard since he learned they were going to be alone most of the night. "We're gonna sleep together like always. You know goddam well I crawl in with you every week, so stop playing dumb or I'll spank your ass."
Betty cocked her head, grinned mischievously. "Ha! Says you!"
Before he could grab her, she was on her way upstairs like a shot. But he was right behind. And what a behind she had: it was more out than in the flowered shorty pajamas, the cheeks jiggling excitedly all the way to the little-girl bedroom with frills and a canopy bed. She flopped at the center of the mattress and stuck her tongue out at him.
Tony paused at the door. The week before, after her parents were asleep and he had sneaked into the room, they had wrestled. Then she fell asleep in his arms - cunt to cock! But just when it was getting good, when his meat was steely hard and ready to shoot and he was taking it out to stick it up her delectable cunt-hole, she awoke and stopped him. But he wouldn't let her stop him this time, he decided. There was no one to hear her tonight if she yelled.
He closed the door, moved to the bed and sat. He eyed her crotch. He grinned and she made a face. She was sitting Indian-fashion, and he could see the short ebony hairs at the legband of the pajamas. No panties! Just Cousin Betty beneath the provocative cotton.
Suddenly she fell back on the pillows. Her trim little legs worked a mile a minute until the blankets and spread were bunched at the foot of the bed. She yawned. She moved one bare foot up and down, making the sheet whistle faintly. "I'm sleepy now," she said. "Put out the light 'n' come to bed, Tony."
He didn't have to be told twice. Before she could blink, he was out of his clothes and beside her in jockey shorts that made no secret of his desire. He doused the lamp on the night table, rolled toward her. "I should beat your ass for downstairs, and for sticking your tongue out just now."
"Can't!"
"Fuck, I can't!"
She giggled when his hand brushed her firm little tit, and locked at her waist ... tickling. She turned toward him, twisting to escape his fingers. Her leg went up, knee on his thigh and hips thrashing as he continued to tickle. "To-neeeeee ... !"
He knew she felt him; his prick was bulging, digging deep in her crotch. She was a tease. He wondered if she'd even been screwed, or if she was just another of the dumb cunts who let a guy do everything but stick it in. He decided to find out. He moved his hand from her waist, over her hip to her plump ass, and cupped the warm flesh protruding from the pajama bottoms.
"We're cousins," whispered Betty. "So?"
"We... we should-shouldn't be fooling aroun' like... umph!" She thrusted her hips forward, cunt tight to his rod. Her arms locked at his neck. She stared wide-eyed into his face. "Like you was my ... my b-boyfriend or something."
Tony's fingers were busy inching the pajama bottoms further back, seeking the crack of her ass. "We can be kissin' cousins," he said, dick so hard and ready to plow he thought sure he'd pop before the girl opened her trim cousin-legs and gave him some hot cousin-pussy.
He kissed her before she could protest further. Her lips tasted of milk and strawberry lipstick. Her breath was sweet. And her ass - God, her plump little round bottom! His fingers had found the deep crack, and were creeping down, down. He encountered a tuft of fuzz so soft it was like touching the feathers at the tip of a baby bird's wing. His cock leaped. He probed her tiny pinched asshole, and grinded his meat in and out, in and out, in and out between her quivering young legs.
Betty twisted suddenly away, yelped, "I ... I'll tell! You ... you-ow!" She reached back, smacked his hand from her exposed cheek, and rolled away, onto her back. Her tits rose and fell erratically. Her eyes flashed. "You ... you're terrible, Tony."
"Shit!" He too rolled away, back to her. He didn't know whether he wanted to screw her or wring her cute neck. Girls! They were all crazy, he mused. Fuckable but weird. Fucking fruitcakes!
They remained silent for a long time - he staring darkly at Betty's hazy reflection in the dresser mirror across from where he lay, she lost in thoughts of her own, staring at the ceiling. Until Betty rolled. Until the hot white flesh he'd held in his hand became visible in the mirror. He watched her wiggle to get comfortable, bend her legs at the knee. A shaft of moonlight from the window made the roundness of her ass appear translucent - glass! He thought of milk. Pure cream. There was no other way to describe her smooth skin.
"You awake?" he asked softly over his shoulder.
No answer! The girl was breathing deeply, as if she were asleep. He turned, brought himself close and touched her thigh gently. Still nothing. He glanced down, groaned. The cotton was sunk deep in her ass. He inched his hips forward, placed the bulge of his dick snug with the pinched crack. She was only pretending to be asleep, he knew. But that was okay. Anything she wanted to do for now was fine, because once he got his rod out, once he set the glans at her tight cousin-slit, she could holler all fucking night and he wouldn't stop.
He massaged her thigh, fingers working the elastic legband of the shorty pajamas further and further back. Until the cotton was a tight band that sliced down the center of her succulent cheeks, leaving the entire upper half of her ass, one complete melon, exposed. He'd done that before: each weekend the game was the same, with Betty pretending to be asleep, him feeling her and working himself to fever pitch, and then bang! Innocent Betty, eyes wide and appealing, stopping him with the usual, But you're my cousin, Tony, nonsense. Not this time! This time they were going to screw, even if he had to take it.
He inched back just enough to allow his stiff prick to pop free of the jockey shorts. Wouldn't she be surprised when the fat tip bored into her tight pussy, he thought. Would she yell? Fight him? She wouldn't tell, that much he was sure of. If she did, then she'd have to explain what he was doing in her bed in the first place. She'd have to tell about the other weekends too. She'd have to admit to being a tease - a dick-crazy minx, but with last-minute reservations, little-girl willies. He took firm hold of the base of his hardon. His free hand went to her belly, splayed. It was now or never.
Betty squealed when the hot glans of his meat was thrust into the gap at the back of her thighs. Her hips jerked forward, but the hand low on her belly prevented escape. "Oh! Oh, Tony, nooooooooooooo!"
"Shut the fuck up 'n' hold still," he growled in her ear. "You been wantin' it ever since we first wrestled - even before you had tits 'n' hair on your pussy. Now ... !" He wiggled, used his hips to force the tip of his dick beneath the rolled pajama bottoms and into her hot wet cuntlips. She was close - not quite virgin-tight, but still retaining the delicious viselike little-girl snugness that older girls lost through years of fucking. He pressed with the hand on .her belly, coaxing her back, back, and strained to get the glans all the way in.
"Owwwwwwwww!" Betty thrashed. One tiny hand flailed back at him. She closed her legs tight, trying to dissuade the rigid monster burrowing up her thirteen-year-old cunthole. "Noo!
Tony, it___it's eee! Oh! Oh, you're too big 'n'
my cuz-zin!"
Her pleas spurred him on. Rape! The mere thought made him burn with desire. Quickly he rolled her onto her belly, used his knees to pry her trim little legs apart, and thrust... pulled back and thrust again. The roaring in his ears muffled the girl's frightened cries. He gritted his teeth, took hold of the rolled pajama bottoms and yanked. The material gave. "Jesus H. mother-fucking Christ! Baby!" Her round ass glowed white in the dark. But there was light enough from the window to see where his joint was parting the fine black hairs on her pussy, sinking deep. "Urn! Goddam, cuz baby. Man!"
"Oh, no! Oh! STO-op! OH!"
He was beyond hearing her screams, beyond caring. Taking pussy was good. Far better than he'd ever had before. There was only one thought in his mind, to drive his big dick as far up her hot little thrashing belly as it would go, and plant cream, the cum already inching up from his bouncing sacs, at the depths of her fiery cousin-cunthole.
But it wasn't Cousin Betty whose fiery little cunthole Tony was burrowing in - that was long ago; long before Lois, the man in the bar, and the sentence to prison. Now it was Nurse Simmons' hot slit his dick was violating. And like Betty, the captive girl yelled. She fought. She felt the thing grinding in, yanking her out of sleep and back to reality. Her cunt was so sore. Raw red chopmeat! And she'd thought - she had actually dared to hope for a time that Tony Giardino was her friend, and expected nothing more than a "thank you" for rescuing her from Slick Jack and the others.
"Good pussy," hissed Tony, slamming it roughly to her. One hand cupped low on her belly, the other worked the hospital gown up over her breasts. "Ummmmmmm! Ah! Fuck for me, baby. Screw!"
She was almost too exhausted to fight. But she did. She tried with all her might to keep her thighs closed, to prevent him from getting more than the terrible glans in. Her head spun. Her insides recoiled from the prospect of another cruel bludgeoning. She clawed at the cal-lused hand rubbing her curly blonde wedge, and at the rough fingers taunting her nipples. She whimpered. Then she yelled: she sucked air into her lungs, and let it out in a high-pitched wail she thought sure would be heard by someone - anyone! - outside the high prison wall.
"Fucking scumbag!" Tony abandoned her breasts, wrapped his fist in her hair and yanked.
"Owwww!"
"Then give!" he snapped. "You fucked for the blacks - Jack V Spider, probably the rest, too. Now it's my turn, bitch. You think I risked my fuckin' neck for nothin' maybe? Shit! I been thinkin' about you since yesterday ... your ass ... your pussy. Shit! You'll gimme some or I'll make you wish you were still at the infirmary." Again he yanked her long hair, wrenching her head back. The hand on her pussy slipped lower. His fingers dug brutally into the top of her swollen gash.
The pain was so sharp, so blinding, that when Jeannie opened her mouth to scream again only a gurgle came out. They were killing her - cock by big filthy cock! She'd never survive, she was certain. She could Jieel the long steely thing reigniting the friction burns along the tortured inner walls of her sheath. Jack and the others had fucked her dry, going again and again and again and again and again. Until there was no juice left in her cunthole. Until their dicks tore a strangled cry from her lips with each mighty lunge, and only the wetness of semen could soothe the hurt - lubricate her for the next violation.
"Ah! Ah! AHHHHHH!" Tony went rigid. His prick, the fat glans a mere two inches inside her pulsating pussy, erupted thick goo. His lips dribbled spittle down the back of her neck. His rod leaped like the rattle on an angry sidewinder, cum spurting and oozing out of her gash, making the inside of her thighs sticky and adding to the filth on the rumpled bedding.
"Oh! You ... you animal!" She stared accusingly at him, disgusted beyond words. It was bad enough to be raped, but to be taken by a man who couldn't restrain himself, a man unable to hold back long enough for her to achieve an orgasm too ...
She gasped, stunned by the unwholesome thought. She looked sharply away from Tony's sweating face. What was wrong with her, anyway? She didn't want to have an orgasm. She wanted only to be left alone, to be set free. She wanted her Michael, who was somewhere in Europe. She wanted ... oh, she wanted only to be as she was that very morning, before the sex-starved rioters stormed into the deserted infirmary and subjected her to perversions - asshole fucking and sucking, three spitting rods in her at the same time - not even the matter-of-fact instructors at nursing school had mentioned. She didn't want that! It was confusion that was responsible for the sudden warped thinking. Orgasm! It was absurd of her mind to even suggest such a thing to her bruised, tortured, and protesting body.
"Jesus! It was too fast," breathed Tony, dick going limp at the mouth of her inner vagina. "Damn! It's been so long I ... Christ, I forgot how good it is to screw. Man! I just had to shoot. There's nothin' like fuckin', baby. Take it from me." His hand returned to her tit, toyed with one turgid pink nipple.
"Animal!" she reasserted, spitting the word back at him. "Let me go!"
Tony laughed. "Sure!"
She gulped when his rod popped from its niche, and lay draped like a soggy spaghetti on her thigh. Her cuntlips turned suddenly cold. She tried to work the muscles, to close herself. Nothing happened: her sweet little slit remained open, as if numbed by Novocain. Oh, how she hated Tony Giardino, hated men. Her face burned with shame. Her ass flesh tightened, pulling away from the wiry cockhair that grew in abundance all over the brute's muscular loins.
Abruptly Tony sat up. His hand gripped her small shoulder, forced her onto her back. He took hold of her chin, made her meet his hot gaze. "Look," he said huskily, "I got you out of that mess in the hospital because those fuckin' guys would've lined you up for the whole population. A thousand guys, baby. Think about it. Your cunt - " he glanced at her cum-crust-ed blonde bush - "your fuckin' cunt'd be stretched from her to here!" His free hand went to her gash, sliced sharply up to her throat.
"Ow!" Jeanie shuddered, horrified by the prospect. Her cunt! Her sweet little pussy!
"Yeah! Like the Holland Tunnel! You'd be no more good. Think real hard about it."
She thought real hard about it: she envisioned 1000 stiff dicks pissing cum from the sky, drowning her. Her gaze dropped to the half-hard cylinder in her captor's lap, jerked hastily away. Her breathing quickened. What was he saying? That she had a choice of one stiff prick or many? Some choice! She wished she'd had foresight enough to secret a scalpel in the hospital gown before allowing him to drag her through the window. Or that she had courage enough to take his penis into her mouth, as if to suck him, and chew and chew until only a bloody stump remained. "I ... I ... "
"Can it," barked Tony. "You wanna walk out that door, go. But while you're here ... !" His hand returned to her pussy, rubbed gently.
"I ... it ... I ... oh, I'm all sore down there," she whimpered, blinking back tears. "Please."
Tony considered her for a moment. She watched his hungry eyes caress every inch of her body, pausing at the secret places, eating her up. She supposed she couldn't blame him for wanting her. She was beautiful, soft and tiny, but big in all the right places. Stacked! And ten years was a long time, even she had to admit. She supposed under different circumstances ... if she wasn't engaged to Mike ... if she wasn't a good girl ... under those circumstances she supposed she might even consider him. He was handsome enough. Tall.
And his dick - although she detested the thing, wished he'd cover himself so she wouldn't have to keep glancing at it - was bigger by far than Mike's. Bigger limp than most of the others had been when they plowed into her belly. She supposed he had the most awesome prick in the world, or at least in the prison, and that a girl - not her, though: a girl who was like that - might even count herself lucky to have such a marvelous tool to pump electriclike thrills into her willing cunthole.
She moaned, closed her eyes, and turned her head away. Her legs trembled, parted. Her pussy grew tight in spite of the soreness. "Don't," she sobbed, wanting to resist the hand massaging her bush but unable to deny the soothing effect. Wanting to scream again, but unable to do more than gasp each time his rough fingertips grazed her slit. What, what, what! was wrong with her, anyway!
"Yesterday you fixed up my hand," said Tony. "Now it's my turn to do some nursin'. I got a wonder drug for what ails you, baby. Somethin' that'll make the hurt go away. Fast!
Real quicklike V
"Hummm!" Her eyes shot open as the livery thing flicked gently up her swollen vulva. Her ass lifted itself off the cot. Oh, God! she thought. God! God! He was going to suck her. Eat her pussy. The pig! The filthy bastard! There was nothing - absolutely nothing m the entire world she enjoyed more than having her twat lapped by Mike.
But it wasn't her Michael whose dark head was burrowing there, she reminded herself. She chewed her lip, stared at the blue-black curls that contrasted so perfectly with her creamy thighs and golden bush. "Ohah!" Her hips bucked again, of their own accord, making her gash more accessible. "Urn!" She tried to hold herself still; tried to tell her hips not to wiggle, her ass to stay put. "N-no-ooooo!"
"No? That's a fuckin' laugh!" Tony locked his hands at the upper inside of her thighs, spread her wide. "Shit! Lookit that cunt nip. What I hear from up there I don't see down here, baby." Again he licked, this time batting the tip of his tongue against her pink clit.
"Iiiieeeeeeeeeeeee!" The hurt was suddenly gone, washed completely away. The shame, too. It was wrong! She looked about the cluttered supply room ... at the wooden crates marked CANNED GOODS ... the naked lightbulb overhead ... the jagged chunk of mirror hung on the wall across from the foot of the cot and above the makeshift barrier that hid them from view of the door. Dirty! The room and the deed! But her pelvis refused to recognize the filth. Her ass refused to be still. Her hot cunt - oh, her lovely but unruly blonde pussy - wanted the gentle lapping to continue.
"That's it-, honey," mumbled Tony into her breathing cunthole. "Christ, you smell good. Taste good, too." His hands crept under her ass, cupped. He licked down, into the valley between the plump melons and back, laving her anus as well as her slit. "Baby. Goddam."
Tentatively she raised one knee, dropped it wide to one side. The wetness darted deep in her gaped lovehole. She yelped, raised the other knee. Her loins gyrated. Round and round. Fucking. Mashing her cunt in his face. She felt his whiskers, his breath. Her clitoris grew, popped from the lips of her vulva and sought the medicine he prescribed. It lulled her, made her forget where they were ... who he was - who she was. The cot became a gently rocking cloud, the soiled bedding the smoky folds. The room was a kaleidoscope of sexual bliss, approaching but not reaching, prolonging, keeping as a promise, the ultimate thrill. Her nipples begged for attention, and it was as if their bodies were in communication, silent harmony; because, without having to be told, as if the message had reached him through the pink inner walls of her sheath, Tony relinquished one half of her ass to minister with his fingers to first one then the other rigid peak. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut and gave in completely to the wonderful fiery sensations coursing through her vagina.
She felt the cot shift abruptly, felt the head between her thighs turn completely around. Before she knew what was happening, she smelled him - the sweat on his huge dangling balls, his asshole. "Wha ... ? "
"Suck me off, too," croaked Tony, dick standing full hard and pointed straight at her mouth from above. He set his knees wide, at either side of her face, and thrust the veiny meat poker at her moist lips. "Sixty-nine, baby. Pass the medicine around some. Gimme a blowjob."
She sobbed. Less than twenty-four hours ago, she would have considered the request an impossibility; she would have thought her mouth was too small, too delicate to take a foot-long cock. But now she knew better. Slick Jack and the other one - she just couldn't remember his name, didn't want to - had used her that way, had fucked out her face. Now only the strong male stink gagged her, made her want to vomit. She hesitated, studying the slightly bowed, enormous red-tipped monster. She reached with one tiny trembling hand for his nuts, hefted them in her palm. He was a bull! An elephant! None of the medical books had ever depicted a human stallion as low-slung and handsome as Tony.
"Suck it!" he demanded into her cunthole. His tongue flew up one sensitive cuntlip and down the other, coaxing compliance. His fingers crept low in the crack of her ass, tapped her blood-engorged sphincters, teasing there too. He lowered his hairy bulk, and brushed her nose, her lips and chin, with the throbbing glans of his manhood - the smoking meat still slick with gook from her pussy.
Nurse Jean Simmons, she thought dismally. The girl who had always excelled. With her looks, and a mind that absorbed data like a sponge, she'd go far, everyone - her teachers in high school, the instructors at nurses' training class, her parents, Mike - had always said. The prison was only a stopover. Experience! But she hadn't anticipated the range of that experience. She'd heard stories about other women caught in prison uprisings, raped. But never her. Never had she expected to be used like a thing; a receptacle for gallons and gallons of .semen, with cocks - black ones, white ones, brown - fucking out every hole in her body. That kind of experience happened only to "the other guy."
"Oh ... !" She pumped her cunt onto his dipping tongue, closed her fingers tight on his balls and stared cross-eyed at the fat red tip of the prick pulsing like an excited aorta at her mouth. Her head thumped in time to the machinery in the outer shop. Her own aorta felt as if it were going to burst. She'd never seen anything so steely, so ... so fascinating. Her tongue, without any help from her, flicked out - licked the pearldrop of cum from the tiny aperture in the pear-shaped glans.
"Ah! Ah! Ahhhhhhh!" Tony's hips bucked. He lowered his genitals even farther, blew hot moist air up her pussy. One long finger parted her sphincters, and pressed ... opening the tender rear channel ... grating cruelly up her tight asshole, and making her moan, thrash.
Her lips opened. Dizzy, unable to think of anything but the delicious warmth spreading like forest fire through her gyrating loins, she moved her hand from his balls to the mighty roots of the dagger, and steered the tip to her mouth. It tasted of cunt juice. Never before today, before Slick Jack fucked out her pussy and then her face, had she sampled her own inner goo. Now she licked it greedily from
Tony's member, surprised that the tang, the smell, wasn't revolting, as she had once assumed. It took only some getting used to - like when she was a little girl, and her father, who used to laugh when she cried - were all men like that? Brutal? - made her eat head cheese for the first time. She remembered how the stink of the cheese seemed to go away when her father took her onto his lap, kissed the tears from her cheeks. Eleven? Twelve? She couldn't remember! She was young, hadn't yet reached puberty, but had begun to lose the awkward bulging hipbones and elbows and skinned knees of childhood, and was just beginning to sprout tits and a soft little round ass. The head cheese was her father's favorite. But she hardly noticed the taste after the first time ... though she had never before wondered why. Now she took the huge glans of Tony's stiff dick into her face, and recalled that her father too had developed a hardon that first time, and had, whenever he got the chance after that, whenever her mother wasn't around and they were alone in the house, used the cheese - pretending to tease her, calling her Daddy's little big-girl - to get her onto his lap. And later, after she had reached puberty, how he made silly excuses to come into her room while she was dressing. The last time was only a week ago, she recalled. Her own father. Staring. Eyeing her tits and plump ass. Sometimes rubbing against her. Sometimes, like when they went swimming, holding her close in the water - she with her feet off the sand, legs thrashing, and him with one hand on her bottom, and laughing, pretending it was a game; but, she realized now, her mind zeroing in on the sordid events of the day and the sex of a lifetime, using her as Tony was doing. She sucked, astounded that Tony's ferocious penis should fit so neatly in her small delicate mouth. Had Daddy wanted her ever since she first sat in his lap? A blowjob? Fucking? Her uncles too? All men? She fucked her ass wildly off the soiled bedding, drew as if she were sucking a thick malt through a straw and thought about things that had never before - not even in her kinkiest dreams, or when she and Mike screwed - entered her mind.
"Honey. Ah, baby-baby. Um! Jesus!" Tony drove another long finger up her nipping asshole, and shoved the remaining three darts on each hand into her lower gash. He spread her so wide Jeanie thought sure she'd split up the middle, covered the sloppy gap of her sex with his mouth and blew and sucked alternately. His hips set a steady fuck-rhythm. Slow. Planting more dick with each downward grind, until the entire shaft was wet with her spit and slipped smoothly in and out, in and out. "Suck it, sweetheart," he groaned into the breach. "Yeah! Um! Ah! Ah! Ah, ba-beeeeeee!"
She sucked. Noisily. Greedily. Closing her eyes, hands caressing his sacs, fingers weaving an excited unfamiliar pattern in his wiry cock-hair, she drew from deep in her throat on his throbbing meat. Her father! Why hadn't she seen it before? Was she so naive? Did she have to be raped, fucked every whichway by an endless line of brutes, before the obvious dawned on her?
She recalled other times. She remembered the night long ago, her mother babysitting with a sick neighbor's child, when she fell asleep on the living room sofa with Daddy. Fourteen? Not much more! The hair on her pussy was still growing, her tits and hips filling out. The movie on TV was a western. She remembered because it was the cowboy shouting, "Get up, there! Get up!" that woke her. Still groggy, only half awake, she'd felt the stiff thing rubbing up and down the rear seam of the thin pajamas she wore. Warm all over. Giddy. She remembered wondering what her father was doing to her back there ... against her cute little ass ... grinding ... grinding ... panting. She remembered snuggling close. Sighing. She was too sleepy, too warm, too ... too something! to keep her eyes open. The stiffness felt good. So good. Her own handsome daddy. She remembered drifting again, hearing the cowboy prod his horse - "Get up there, boy! Get up!" - and Daddy, one hand moving gently over her hips, her thighs, the roundness of her small bottom, dryf ucking and groaning - doing her buttocks as Tony Giardino, the rapist, the man who had rescued her from the others only to use her himself, was doing her face. Fucking! Only Daddy's fucking was dry, subdued, cautious, and Tony's dipping was wet and eager, better than pretense.
"Ummmmmm!" She sucked harder, as hard as she could, wanting to taste the thick semen
Slick Jack and the other man had introduced her to. She'd seen a man's wiggly cumworms under a microscope, the miniscule tails wagging furiously, futilely, seeking the ovum in a cunt they'd never enter.
Poor things! she thought now, surprised by her own brazenness. Her mind was a maze of unwholesome images. But there was nothing unwholesome about the dick in her face. It was circumcised. Long. Burning hot and dipping in time with the tongue prodding her clit - get up there! Get up! - toward orgasm.
She opened her eyes to study the cordlike vein along the bowed underside of the thing in her mouth. Her gaze swept up the deep dark stinking crack of his ass, down. His asshole winked from beneath a clump of interwoven black bramble. The purple-blue vein at the base of his meat was as fat as an industrial cable, and growing. The wrinkled skin on his balls had grown taut. She moaned, knowing he too was nearing orgasm. It was so different from what they wrote in the medical textbooks - so much better. She had studied it all: she knew the inner workings of a man's genitals, her own cunthole. She knew every sensation point. Yet Tony's tongue had found new, unlisted nerve ends. His magnificent member was teaching her mouth that it too was a cunthole, a receptacle. She sobbed. She sucked and threw her hips high, a full foot off the cot, telling him with her body that whatever she'd said before, whatever she might say afterward, she wanted him now. Wanted cream.
Suddenly Tony fell. He dropped his knees off the cot at each side, and slammed the roots of his dick, his cockhair, into her face. He mumbled incoherently into her gaped pussy. He bit down on the sensitive tip of her clitoris, and rolled his hips ... shooting ... filling her gullet with spurt after spurt of hot liquid love.
Jeanie couldn't breathe. She gagged, spitting the stuff up and out the corners of her mouth. But there was so much - more than any three dicks had pissed earlier. She was caught between desire and loathing; between being what she'd thought she was - a good girl - and what Tony was making her.
Then she stopped caring who and what she was, because the nibbling teeth at her crotch were lifting her over the precipice, pummeling her into bliss. The juice spewed thick and creamy from her pussy. Her insides exploded. She threw her legs up, locked her quivering thighs at his neck, her ankles at the back of his damp head, and yelled, "Ohah! Oh, do it! Suck meeeeeeeee ... !" into the Brillolike hair bruising her face.
When it was over, when Tony had slipped his long wet meat from her mouth, and she lay, legs scissored like the hind legs of a frog, the delicious thrill fading, leaving her sore pussy empty, degraded once more; when Tony lay at her side, gulping air, raining wet kisses over her breasts and neck, hands caressing, spreading the goo from her cunthole through the yellow-blonde curls of her bush; when the room came back into focus, the crates, the naked lightbulb and soiled bedding, Jeanie cried, "I ... Ill n-never b-b-be able t-to look at myself in ... in the mirror. I won't! I won't!"
Tony grunted breathless laughter. He raised up on one elbow, looked into her face. Again he took hold of her chin, made her meet his dark gaze. "Sure you will, baby. You may even get to like what you see."
"Nooo!" It wasn't true. It wasn't! she protested mentally. She didn't like being violated; she didn't like thinking those awful things about her father, or sucking big dicks, or enjoying it in spite of herself. Yet she had to admit that never before had her pussy been so thoroughly sated. Never before had she experienced such lasting warmth and sexual satisfaction.
"I ... oh, I hate you!" she spit at the darkly handsome face suspended above her.
Tony grinned. "That's okay. Just so long as you keep hatin' like you did."
"You bastard!" she yelled, lashing out with tiny inadequate fists.
Tony trapped both her wrists in one huge hand, pinned her arms. He lowered his face to her tits, sucked one hard pink nipple into his mouth and chewed. He wedged his muscular leg between her thighs, rubbed.
"I ... I ... Iiiiiiiiiiii ... !" she breathed, fighting, thrashing again, wanting to kill him but secretly glad his dick hadn't gone limp. Secretly recalling the partial entry, the premature eruption, and wanting it in her again. Up her pussy, where his tongue hadn't reached. She sobbed - pretending it was because of the struggle, the never-ending fight for her virtue, but anticipating. Wanting to hate him again in the way he liked best.