Chapter 7
Kim put the book on the floor and turned to her father. His cock was throbbing and his breathing was labored. She admired his strong chest and muscular arms. His legs were spread apart and his gigantic cock was still in his hand.
"Now do you see why I read these stories, Pop?"
"Yeah, honey, they're terrific."
"I have a lot more in my closet, as I guess you've seen.
"Yes, I've seen them."
"You can borrow them whenever y want."
"I don't think we'll have any more need work out frustrations with books in the future."
"What do you mean?"
"Just read one more short story and I'll show you." Kim was disappointed; she was ready for action now. She retrieved the book from the floor and commenced reading the next story.
INSATIABLE It seemed that the faster she ran the louder the footsteps got. Whoever was following her had a pronounced limp. The alley was endless. Her breathing became more difficult but she had to reach a street soon. He was walking and she was running; how could he sound so close? She rubbed against the concrete walls of the alley and her blouse ripped.
She felt her own warm blood flowing down her scraped arm and shoulder. One of her heels broke and she fell. She cut her face and bruised her knees badly. She couldn't stop; she had to keep going. Those irregular footsteps were ringing in her ears. She discarded both her shoes and continued her flight in mounting terror.
She reached the end of the alley, but there was no way out. An insurmountable wall marked the end of the dark alley. She huddled in a corner and heard the footsteps almost on top of her. Something brushed against her leg. It was a rat. Her scream flooded the alley and echoed her final terror. She huddled on the ground and waited for the inevitable.
Her eyes were closed tight. She knew that her heart couldn't stand the horror the shock of seeing his face would give her. The footsteps were deafening. They stopped. For one insane second, she thought she might be safe. Her hopes were dispelled by the smell of his rancid breath on her cheek. Her eyes remained closed. He pulled her blouse off and grabbed her breasts cruelly. His other hand worked up her skirt and jabbed roughly at her vulva. She screamed again.
"Stop, please. Leave me alone. Don't touch me." She clawed desperately at the offender.
"Janet, wake up. You're having a nightmare." She opened her tightly closed eyes and found herself in her own bed with her husband, Ed. That same dream. When would it stop?
"I ... I'm sorry, Ed." He turned the night lamp on. His arms were scratched and bleeding.
"In case you don't know it, you're my wife and there are certain obligations that go along with a marriage contract. I don't expect to be mauled for touching what's legally mine." Janet was repentant, but couldn't explain to Ed about her nightmare. He'd label it mental adultery or wishful thinking. He'd find some dirty name for it. If only she could tell him. Maybe he could help. All he ever thought about was himself. She felt his hard cock brushing against her leg.
"Lie on your back. I'm gonna finish what I started." She lay on her back, obediently. The horror of the nightmare robbed her of any sexual drive. She performed mechanically. He pulled up her nightgown and mounted her roughly. His hands were on her tits. Despite herself she felt her nipples hardening. His rough hands worked the mounds over and she felt that familiar chill of pleasure she always experience when her breasts were played with.
She felt the head of his cock brush against her pubic hair, looking for the hole that would swallow it and drain it of all its juices. He found the hole and with one quick thrust was all the way in. After the initial shock of the huge prick entering her, she felt a warm flow of contentment. Forgotten was the nightmare as she arched her hips to envelop the mammoth prod. She felt the heavy prick massaging her clitoris each time it rammed in and out. He was good; he was always good, but why was he so rough? She resented his roughness and loved it at the same time. Why didn't he ever kiss her when they were having sex? He treated her as if she were a machine; no warmth, no affection. He never even cared whether or not she came.
His breathing became more and more erratic and his pounding quicker. She knew he was near and she tried to work her orgasm up to meet his. She knew that she would never be able to sleep if she didn't come. She had to be fulfilled. She worked with him. She matched his rhythm. He was panting like a dog, a wild dog.
He let out a long groan and she knew he was coming. She could feel his rich juices filling her innermost being. She came with him and mingled her juices with his. She felt the love liquids flowing down her legs. He lay on top of her for a moment to catch his breath and then he rolled off of her and lay on his side, his back to her. In a minute he was sound asleep.
She thought about her dream. Maybe if she thought enough about it, she could force it out of her subconscious. She had never allowed herself to recall that horrible afternoon. Maybe that was it. She had forced the whole terrible memory into her subconscious. When she slept she had no control of her thoughts and the sordid memory would creep into her dreams.
She had been only eleven at the time it happened. On her way home from school, she had to pass the news stand on the corner. The old man that ran it was a cripple with a gnarled face. All the children called him names and threw things at him. He couldn't chase them because of his bad leg He had to content himself with yelling obscenities after them. On that particular day, he was standing outside his news booth as Janet passes.
"Hello, little girl. Want some free comic books?"
"No, thank you. I have to go home." Janet had been frightened and tried to get away. He had grabbed her arm.
"Don't be frightened of me. I'm your friend." He dragged her to an open doorway opposite his news stand. He shoved her into the hall.
"You're not laughing now, are you, you little scum. You can't run away now. Don't you want to call me funny names like your rotten brat friends do? Scared ain't ya? Old Mousy knows how to take care of bad little girls." Janet had been too terrified to scream. She had tried to reason with him.
"I've never called you any names, honest." He shoved her further into the hall.
"Shut up you little bitch." Janet had run the length of the hall, but there was no way out. She stood with her back to the locked cellar door as he advanced. She had never forgotten the horrible sound of those irregular footsteps. He was on her. She dropped her books and tried to push past him. It was then that she had gotten her first whiff of his rank breath. Her stomach turned as he grabbed her and pushed her back against the cellar door and pushed his ugly face against hers.
"What's the matter, brat, you afraid of old Mousy?" He had then pulled her blouse open and grabbed her young tits with his calloused hands.
"That feel good, chickie?" He squeezed the firm mounds roughly. His grimy hands released her sore breasts and pulled up her skirt.
"Let's see what we have down here. Maybe we have a little treat for old Mousy, eh?" His hands pulled her panties down and he inserted his fingers up her virgin pussy. She had screamed and he punched her in the stomach. She doubled over but his fingers remained up her cunt, torturing her with their roughness. With one hand, he took his cock out.
She still remembered that cock. It was short and stubby with ugly veins all over it. She could even smell it. He jerked it back and forth. His breathing had become heavier and she got the brunt of the foul fumes right in her face. He had begun muttering incoherently and a brownish white liquid shot all over her legs from his smelly cock. She felt the hot sticky fluid running down her legs.
"You ever tell anyone about this, missy, and I'll really fix you good. Understand?"
"I won't tell anyone, I promise. Please let me go." He had laughed in her face while he zipped up his pants. He turned his back on her and limped out the door back to his stand. Janet had ripped a few pages from one of her notebooks and wiped the gooey juices from her legs. She picked up her books and ran all the way home.
When she reached the safety of her house, she grabbed a piece of steel wool from the kitchen and fled to her room. She rubbed her legs with the coarse wool until she drew blood. She could still feel the juices. She had wondered if she'd ever be the same.
That had been a long time ago but Janet remembered every sordid detail. She looked over at Ed. He was still sleeping. She closed her eyes and fell into the first untroubled sleep she had had in a long time. She awoke, refreshed, in the morning and put on the coffee for Ed. When the coffee began perking, she woke her husband.
She was quite used to his grouchiness in the morning, so when she was sure he was awake, she left him to grumble to himself. Pouring herself a cup of coffee, she reflected on the events of the night before. Her reverie was interrupted by the sound of the shower going on.
She put a pot of water on and took two eggs from the refrigerator. The same routine every morning. At least she was sure there'd be no more nightmares. Maybe things could be like they were in the beginning. Ed used to be so considerate. Her mood was jubilant with anticipation when Ed lumbered into the kitchen and dispelled all of her hope for a new start.
"Same shit every morning. Boiled eggs. Can't you cook anything else?"
"I thought you liked boiled eggs. Every time I make an omelet or pancakes you complain."
"Forget it, where's the toast?" She got the toast and then poured his coffee. She made a mental note to prepare him a super-special dinner that night.
"I won't be home for dinner tonight. We have a client coming in and B.G. wants to take him out to dinner and I have to go along."
"Okay, Ed. I'll fix myself a light dinner and watch TV."
"I wish you had some of your own friends or some interest so you wouldn't make me feel so damn guilty every time I don't come home for supper."
"I'll be all right. You shouldn't feel guilty. I know you work hard."
"And thanks for the bananas and cream." Janet followed her husband's eyes to the bowl of bananas on top of the refrigerator. Every morning he had a bowl of bananas and cream. This morning she had forgotten. She went to take one from the bowl. "Forget it, I have to leave." He put on his coat, picked up his attaché case and left. Janet sat at the table and cried softly. Couldn't she do anything right? Was their marriage failing because of her? She felt defeated. The bananas oh, the fucking bananas. She jumped up from the table and grabbed one of the bananas. She was like a wild woman. She pulled her housecoat open and crammed the banana up her cunt. She forced it all the way up and enjoyed the pleasure/pain it gave her. She sat down in the chair and continued ramming the banana in and out of her cunt. She leaned back in the chair and closed her eyes.
The chair fell backward and she hit the floor, the banana still in her twat. She was unaware of the pain in her back as she played with the banana in her love hole. Her mind snapped and she tried to lose the banana inside herself. It wasn't big enough. She looked around and spotted the tall pepper mill on the sideboard, she pulled the banana out and grabbed the pepper mill. She stood it on the floor and sat on it. When it was in her to the point of bursting something, she lifted her weight and then came down on it again.
She was sure she was tearing something inside of her, but she didn't care. She was a failure. She felt herself nearing orgasm. She pumped up and down on the mill and remained in a perpetual state of near-orgasm. She needed a man, any man. She couldn't come like this. She dismounted the pepper mill and ran for the phone book.
While she was checking the phone book, looking for some service that would send a repairman or something, the door bell rang. She hurried to it and opened the front door. The gas meter reader was standing there in his grey uniform.
"Have to check your gas meter, ma'am." Janet let him in and as soon as she had closed the door behind him, she grabbed his crotch.
"Hey lady, take it easy." Janet ignored him and tried to open his fly.
"Jeez, you're really hot, ain't you?" Janet kept at his fly until she had it open. She reached in and took his cock out. It was nice and fat. She got down on her knees and sucked at it until it was hard. The man had stopped resisting her and was enjoying this distraction from his usually boring job. Janet opened his buckle and let his pants and shorts fall to the floor.
She discarded her house coat and lay on the floor.
"Fuck me. Fuck me." The meter man knelt between her legs and inserted his hard, fat cock up her hungry pussy. After the pepper mill, she had no problem taking all of his meat in her cunt.
Kim stopped reading, her father's hand was on her cunt. She put the book down and lay on top of him. She kissed him on the lips and he opened his mouth hungrily to take her tongue. She could feel his big meat rubbing against her belly. She lay on her back and let him take over. He crawled on top of her and sucked at her breasts. He chewed on the delicate, hard nipples. Kim was in ecstasy. She held on to his muscular shoulders as he descended to her cunt. He darted his tongue in and out of the virgin hole. Her legs were around his shoulders. He climbed back on top of her and eased his rigid cock into her virgin cunt.
Kim rose to meet the massive cock and impale herself on it. When he was all the way in Kim didn't think she could stand the pain. He stayed like that until her cunt muscles were used to the size of his manly cock. In a short time the pain in Kim's pussy turned to pleasure and she arched her hips, signaling him to begin pounding.
"Oh, dad, fuck me." They were both carried away with each other's bodies. He pounded gently at first, but then furiously into her loose pussy. Kim came first and then felt her father coming in her. His hairy chest brushed against her nipples, driving her crazy. As he came, he pumped harder and then let out a loud moan as he shot his last load. Kim could still feel her own juices flowing.
"Oh, dad, that was wonderful." She hoped that he wouldn't be getting the guilts.
"It sure was. You're like a pro. You sure you haven't done this before?"
"Never, but I've wanted to for so long I could taste it." They both lay back on the bed in each other's arms. Kim played with her father's cock as he caressed her young tits.
"I must have shot a pint. It's gonna be a while before I can come again." Kim picked up the book.
"I'll read you another story, that'll get you going. I'm gonna start a new one. That last one stunk. She began reading.