Chapter 6
"Wandaaaaahh!" The cry pierced through my woolly dreams and I opened my eyes to see where I was. "Come on, dear, get up, time for breakfast!" It was my mother calling me from downstairs. Monday morning, back to school. I stretched and huddled into the sheet covering me. How was it that after all the sexual extravaganzas of the weekend, I still felt horny? Deep down in my pussy that itch persisted, tiny but adamant, seemingly out of reach of even the longest cock. Groggily I reached for my pussy with both hands and squeezed it hard, which only made the itch worse. Perhaps the hairbrush would do it.
I reached out and took it by the bristles, and, still too sleepy to know exactly what I was doing, tried to introduce the handle into my cunt. It wouldn't go in so I brought it up to my mouth and sucked at it like it was a fine, hand-tooled cock. When it was good and wet I tried again, spreading my legs as wide as I could and holding my cunt open with my free hand. This time it slipped smoothly past the entrance and snugly fitted into my sheath, but only halfway up it. Damnit! I drew it back and pushed it in hard so that the edge of the bristles chafed against the sensitive inner flesh. That was better, but wasn't there something larger at my disposal? Still fucking myself with the hairbrush handle, I cast my glance about the room. Nothing. I really had to see about getting a dildo or vibrator for moments like this! Some of the girls in my class had whispered about dildos, any size, some with vibrating mechanisms in the head, and they were said to be better than men. Well, I didn't quite believe that, but anything that approached the human cock would have been most welcome to me at that moment.
I kept stirring my pussy with the smooth handle, working it in and out with one hand while the other softly touched down on my nipples and teased them into a frenzy of excitement. Bit by bit I felt my horniness dissolving into a bath of hot lust and that, in turn, began to build up to a climax. I probably heard the knocking on my door but it just didn't register. The next thing I knew, Will was in the room.
"You're supposed to be up already," he said, staring at the hairbrush plunging in and out of my distended pussy. "Listen, you want me to pitch in there and help you out?" He began to fumble with his zipper but I shook my head and took the hairbrush out.
"No, no, we made an agreement," I said, covering my nakedness with a robe, "and we have to stick to it, you know that."
"Yeah, I guess so." He looked disappointed but he understood what I meant. "Anyway, you'd better get your ass out of bed because your breakfast is getting cold or hot or something."
"Thanks, tell Mom I'll take a quick shower first." He nodded and left, leaving me to wonder at my own willpower. My body ached with a variety of needs, most of which he could have attended to. But no, everything was going as planned, a few more weeks and I'd be able to bring a string of lovers home without anyone raising an eyebrow. That cheered me up enough to get me into the bathroom. A cold shower gave me some relief but I was still agitated when I finally sat down to breakfast.
At school the itch seemed to get worse. Everywhere I looked there were men, each of them carrying in their pants the instrument that could bring me true relief, so near yet so far away. And when Frank walked into the classroom and sat facing me with that powerful bulge in his pants I wanted him as much as I ever had! And I gathered from the looks he was giving me that he was in a conciliatory mood too. The girl next to me insisted on telling me a story, the gist of which escaped me. I was too busy positioning myself so as to give the teacher the incentive to think up a way of fucking me. Now and then I nodded at her and said things like, "That's nice," but that was all. It bowled me over when Mr. Harris pointed directly at me and told me to stop talking in class. I stopped but my neighbor didn't.
"All right, Miss Fuller," he said grimly, "go stand outside the classroom. I won't tolerate students talking while I'm trying to impart a little wisdom. Out you go!"
"But, Mr. Harris," I said, hurt by such injustice—and then it occurred to me: he had something other than punishment on his mind. Docile now, I walked out of the classroom and stood outside the door, awaiting the second phase of his plan. A few minutes later he appeared, grinning all over his face and motioning for me to follow him. He led me to the male-teachers' washroom, checked to see that no one was inside, and beckoned me again. I was reluctant at first. What if someone saw us? Then I thought that it didn't really matter.
We went into the furthest cubicle and he locked the door securely before turning to me. "Pretty smart, huh?" he whispered, undoing my clothes hurriedly. "We'll only have a few minutes but I can't resist you any longer, even if you are a nympho."
"But I'm not!" I said, trying to pull free from his ubiquitous hands. He'd hurt my feelings now and I was ready to exert my will-power once more just to teach him a good lesson. Mr. Harris was not in a mood to be taught anything. He pulled me back and undid my blouse, letting my tits breathe freely, then hoisted my skirt around my waist and pulled my panties down.
"Turn around," he hissed, "and rest your arms on the sink. You'll get enough this time to keep you satisfied."
I shrugged and did as he told me to, but inside I was still burning with anger. He was so nar-rowminded! Still, it was exciting to be in the men's room, my ass bare and pointing right at Frank's loins. I remembered his weapon vividly and how it felt when it entered me the last time.
He stroked my pussy with one extended finger, testing it for moistness, I guessed, and when he found it soaking he let out an appreciative whistle. "Yeah, baby, you warm up fast. Now spread your legs and bend over, because you're going to get it!"
In that position I found myself confronted with the little clear lake at the bottom of the toilet bowl, not an inspiring sight. But when I bent down further and looked behind me I saw his awesome cock leap out of his pants along with his heavy, hairy balls, which was much more pleasing. My pussy contracted when his knob came close, suddenly intimidated by so much cock. Mr. Harris seized me around the waist with his strong hands and held me still while his cock knocked on the door and asked to be let in.
I wanted him to come right in and make himself at home but the anxious tightness thwarted us both. Even after he'd worked his knob inside I couldn't relax, and Frank approved. "Like a fish's asshole," I heard him mutter as he strained to get the rest of himself tucked in. "Damn, I'll blow in a second if you don't loosen up, girl."
I concentrated on the swinging balls and pretty soon my nervousness was forgotten. Frank's cock moved back and forth more easily now. More of his hot, hard meat stuffed into me, digging deeper and deeper, and I could almost feel his thick knob scratching my itch. But when he'd fed me all of his cock the door to the bathroom opened and someone came inside. He stopped dead, and both of us tried not to breathe while the intruder was there. That's when my passions began to soar!
Having his cock inside me, immobilized but raring to go, sent all sorts of wild vibrations through me, and the sight of his dangling balls neatly framed by the cleavage between my tits was enough to drive me to the brink of a huge climax. Only I couldn't make a sound, or the jig would be up! That in itself compressed and distilled the experience for me. I wanted to climax as badly as a lover hiding in the closet wants to sneeze. My body began to make the motions, moving back up into his long cock and then pulling away slightly, only to bump backward with redoubled force. Frank tried to hold me still but he wasn't strong enough to stop me altogether. In the meantime we were treated to the tinkling sounds of a man taking a piss in the urinal outside, a man who'd get too hard to piss if he knew what was going on behind his back.
My pussy was up in arms. It wanted to be pounded into submission, but Frank couldn't do it, not yet. It twitched and tightened, slid back up the big pole and moved forward, but all that only worked to aggravate my condition. I had to clench my teeth to stop from crying out. My body was rampant with passion now, like sticks of dynamite being thrown in a big heap waiting for the spark to ignite it. The intruder was combing his hair or admiring his mirror image, and Frank couldn't wait any longer. He began to fuck me with cautious, long strokes, just easing his prick in and out of me breathlessly. In my mind, I began to yell at the intruder, telling him to get the hell back to his class, but the cad took his time.
Finally he left. The door banged shut and his footsteps receded along the corridor. When it was silent again Frank's fingers dug into the flesh of my ass, he withdrew his cock all the way, and then hammered it into me with such brute force that a strangled cry squeezed through my clenched teeth and echoed through the bathroom.
"Shut up, you slut!" he hissed, fucking me like a piston.
I resented that, but what could I do? He had me in his power. His dick was prodding me onward, higher and higher, and all I could do was go along with him. If he wanted to call me names, that was his prerogative. His balls were swinging wildly with every stroke and I could just imagine the load they bore. Pretty soon it would be inside me, hot and wet, drowning the itch or at least dampening it. "Give it to me, Frank!" I groaned, adjusting my footing to let him get further inside me. "That's the way, that's it, oh it's beautiful!"
He said nothing. His breath brushed along my nape, hot and fast, and his hands were on my tits, squeezing them in time with his powerful thrusts. A preliminary orgasm rolled through me and swept some of my needs out of the way. I was born to fuck, I decided as the last strains of the climax died away and a new one began to emerge from the depths of my loins. If it was physically possible I'd strap myself into a machine with a dick attachment and let it fuck me into old age. But when Mr. Harris blew his load into me when I was only halfway toward my peak, the dark side of sex asserted itself. I didn't want to tell him I was only partially satisfied, because that would hurt his feelings and then he'd hurt mine. I smiled, even kissed him fondly, but in the back of my mind I was preparing for the next bout.
My cunt was full of sperm and it dribbled down my leg in great quantities. I snatched a handful of toilet papes out of the cubicle and wiped myself as best I could. Frank was in a hurry to get out of the men's room now and kept urging me on. At the end I stuffed some tissues into my panties to soak in the remains, and waited while he checked to see if the coast was clear. He gave me the signal and I hurried outside to take up my position outside the classroom once more. He came a little later, looking fresh and clean, as if he hadn't just spent himself fucking.
"I'll call you back inside in about five minutes," he promised. That was all very well for him, but there I was, standing out in the corridor like a bump on a log. I folded my arms and gazed up at the ceiling, trying to decide what to do. This would be a good chance to see Mr. Ross ... Frank wouldn't make an issue out of it if I wasn't there when he came to call me into the room. And, thinking of the devil, there he was!
"Hello, Wanda, what are you doing out here?" he said in his sexy bass voice. "Waiting for your date to show up?"
"That's right," I said pertly, "and you've been elected. Where are you going to take me?"
"Ah, now that's a good question." He looked up and down the corridor just the way Frank had not long ago, and turned back to me with a sly grin playing about his full, exciting lips. "What do you say to a secret meeting in the men's room, just you and me?"
"I'd love to," I said huskily.
"Let's go then."
I was more than ready to follow him, even if it meant another standing-room-only fuck. Already I had a plan to get rid of the tissues in my panties before he'd see them. But Mr. Harris emerged from the room to frustrate me for the second time in five minutes. "You can come in now, Miss Fuller," he said, throwing Mr. Ross a steely look.
"Bye, Mr. Ross," I said wistfully. The gym teacher winked at me as if to say there Would be other times, and left. Some of the girls in the class gave me knowing looks when I took my seat, but I didn't do anything to confirm or deny their suspicions. They probably had dildos at home to keep them company, and fantasies like they were having at that moment would see them through many dry seasons.
Actually I felt pretty good. Later in the afternoon we'd go to Mr. Ross's gym class, and I was sure he'd find some way to smuggle me aside for the kind of screw I'd been dreaming of. He knew how to do that sort of thing, I could tell by his bearing. All that I had to do was wait for him to invite me.
At lunclitime Judy came over to me and sat on the bench beside me. She looked like a different person, more mellow, more maturely beautiful. There was nothing left of the edgy girl of last week, and I was glad to see that Burt had done so well. "You like my brother, do you?" I observed with light irony after we'd exchanged greetings.
"Your brother?" She looked at me strangely, colored, and nodded emphatically. "Oh, Burt, yes I do! He's wonderful!"
"Good. Well, the family certainly took to you. Whenever you want to come over, you'll always be welcome."
"They like me? Oh, I'm so glad. What about your father, did he say anything about me?"
"No, but he rarely spends so much time talking with any of the visitors we have." Judy looked strangely pleased to hear that, but after that she turned to other topics. I told her about my episode with Mr. Harris just to get it off my chest and she was fascinated. Sex and Judy had certainly kissed and made up. Looking at her as we talked, I felt a pang of regret at not being her bosom pal anymore. We could have easily sneaked off into the woods surrounding the school for mutual masturbation or other delights. However, since she didn't suggest it I didn't feel free to. She and Burt were a couple now. He came over later and sat with her until the bell rang. It puzzled me that she wasn't more demonstrative toward him, but at that stage I simply hadn't put two and two together yet.
I could hardly wait for the gym class to start. All through the next two periods I fiddled, tried to keep my hands off my vulnerable parts. When we girls split from the boys to change I could feel my pussy blowing bubbles with every step I took. I just hoped nobody could hear the little wet sounds it produced. And, to be sure Mr. Ross wouldn't lose interest in me, I left off my underpants when I changed into the tight, crotch-hugging shorts. That made me feel even sexier. The rough material worked into my pussy and titillated my hard little clit continuously when I moved.
He and I were very preoccupied with each other all through the period. I lay on my back on the floor and spread my legs when he told us to and while he gazed into my crotch I made surreptitious little motions with my hips, fucking up at him, just to make his cock rise massively in his tight pants. When we were doing toe-touching exercises he stood right behind me and observed my ass with unabashed admiration. And when I vaulted over the wooden horse he caught me in such a way that one hand pressed into my tits and the other had a firm grip on my pussy. During that split second I gazed in his eyes and found there all the longing of my own body.
But once more we were doomed to failure. Even before the class was over Jerry appeared at the door and gazed sternly at the gym teacher. My big brother had a suspicious mind, ~but in this case he was justified. I resented him being there with every bone of my body! Mason arrived not longer after and that put an end to that. Mr. Ross and I sighed and accepted the facts of life.
"I wonder where Will and Burt are?" Jerry asked as I was marched home. "I told them to be here."
"What's the matter," I said waspishly, "can't you find your way home without them?"
"Don't be a smart-ass," he told me. "I only wondered because they acted so strangely this morning when I told them to be at the gym after school. You don't know anything about that, do you?"
"Me? Why, Jerry, I just wouldn't feel safe without a full bodyguard," I said sarcastically.
"Hey, there's Bella," Mason said suddenly, "just the girl I wanted to see. I've got to get to her, so I'll see you guys later."
Jerry and I walked on alone. My mind worked overtime at trying to find a way of approaching him. Whenever I glanced at him he looked as solid as granite, an edifice of morality, but every man had his weak spot. "Why do you insist on seeing me home every day, Jer?" I asked in a very different tone of voice, soft and pleading. "Don't you think I can look after myself yet?"
"Maybe you can and maybe you can't," he answered gruffly. "But there's a lot of guys just looking for a girl on her own, and you don't know much about men. It's best that there's someone to look after you."
"One day I'll have to stand on my own two feet, though, and what's going to happen then? Or do you intend to stick it out with me for the rest of my life?"
"There's no point in talking about it." His face closed down into blank stubbornness and I knew better than to persevere. But even as we walked in our respective silences, I couldn't help but notice how powerfully built he was and how he excited a hidden part in me. Jerry was like an intelligent bull; that is, he had the mind of a man but the emotions and body of a bull. And when he aimed at something he'd smash through brick walls to get at it. I could just imagine him barging through the walls of my lust, shattering them one after the other until he had reached the very core of my desires, that itching, nagging core that no man had yet touched. Jerry could do it—always playing sport, eating the right foods, and I was sure he'd never stoop to masturbation. He'd probably think it'd drain his vital energies or something.
To be realistic, however, I had to dismiss that prospect and start to think about how to get at my daily diet of sex. I couldn't ask Will or Burt. That'd be unfair. They weren't there to be at my beck and call, after all. And Mason was never around when he was needed. The only person I could turn to was Mr. Harris and I didn't want to see him again. Of course, I could call Mr. Ross and instruct him in the art of getting into my room after midnight, but somehow I wasn't inclined to take big risks anymore. The plan had been halfway realized. One slip and I could worsen my situation immeasurably. What if I was to slip out the same way?
Now there was an idea. Perhaps I'd meet an interesting person while I was out walking. And if anyone caught me I'd say I was suffering from teenage blues or something, and that a nocturnal stroll seemed the only way to get rid of them. Yes, why not try it just once?
We got home just in time to see Dad putting his bag into the trunk of the car. He was going away for a couple of days, he told us—business, of course. It was rare for him to go away overnight, and for a flash I thought back on my conversation with Judy—but it was all too unlikely. Mom and Dad were happily married, the only parents I knew who that could be said about. Stranger still, Mason came home an hour after we did instead of gallavanting all night with the lady of his choice. But I wasn't too concerned with familial affairs. Once more I found myself awaiting the midnight hour.
It was a warm night again. I sat at the window from ten o'clock waiting for the inhabitant of the house to settle down, my legs dangling over the sill, the TV playing beside me unheeded. Even though I had no clear idea as to what might happen to me if I ventured out at an ungodly hour, it excited me just to think I'd be free of all constraints for a brief period. The ladder was in position, just waiting for me to descend it. I gave everyone an hour to fall asleep, then slipped into my jeans and halter and snuck down.
It was a little frightening to be all alone like this, walking along the quiet streets from one pool of light to the next, wandering aimlessly. My life had really been sheltered, I reflected, always in the middle of a clutch of brothers and parents who seemed to be intent only on hiding the facts from me. But I'd outfoxed them now. For close to eighteen years I'd played the part of a virgin to the hilt, and they had been lulled into a sense of security. Even if nothing happened to me I'd enjoy being out on the loose!
Several blocks down the road there lay a small park with high fences all around it and only a few lights to relieve the darkness. I checked the gates until I found one that was open. The people in this area weren't too paranoid. Our town had its share of crime, of course, but not enough to turn every house into a fortress. But I knew that entering this park was to enter the arena, the spot where laws were in suspension, where every single girl was regarded as fair game by the creatures of the night. A few times I wanted to turn back, to run out of the park back to the safety of the streets, but it was too late. I'd hate myself if I were to give up.
Suddenly I heard footsteps behind me. Everything in me tightened up but I kept walking. The steps were heavy and regular, and whoever was walking behind me wasn't in a hurry to catch up with me. Just to get it over with I slowed down my pace. He was right behind me, I could hear him breathing. "Hey, girlie," he said, "turn around and look at this."
Like a fool I did. There was a middle-aged man in a trench coat, far too hot for this time of the year, and, as if to cool himself down, he opened the coat wide. Only it wasn't for the purpose of ventilation that he'd unbottoned it. In the yellow light of a nearby lamp I caught sight of his cock, pale and hard, sticking out like a flag pole. At the top of it was a splendid knob, flushed and bobbing—and I wanted it! Instead of screaming or running away I moved toward him, hands outstretched, mouth open, ready to take that wonderful tool into any orifice he wanted.
But the man didn't approve of my eagerness. "Hey, what's the matter with you!" he said as my hands clutched at his cock. "Are you some kind of pervert!"
"Let's make love," I said, rubbing his hard meat with both hands. "You can do whatever you want with me, wouldn't you like that? Come on, just name your preference."
"You're sick!" he yelled, pulling away and buttoning his coat up tight. "You ought to see a psychiatrist!" And he was off, bolting into the dark, leaving me feeling let down. I was discouraged. If I couldn't get laid in this underworld, what were my chances outside it? Still, I'd give it another chance.
I kept walking around and around in the park, following the same path while waiting for another man to come out at me. Nothing! It made me mad when I thought of all the girls who hadn't wanted to be raped and who got it anyway. Here I was, just a girl looking for some hot action, and I couldn't get it for love or money! Was there no justice?
The answer to that apostrophic question came in the form of a big hairy hand closing around my mouth, and another around my waist, to drag me away from the light and behind a clump of bushes. I was so surprised that I offered no resistance, I just let him carry me off like he was King Kong. "You bitch!" I heard a hoarse voice hiss into my ear. "You dirty, cockteasing bitch! You're going to get it now and good! Yell, and you're a gonner!" The blade of a knife flashed in the darkness to back up his words. But I recalled how I'd scared off the previous applicant and kept very quiet.
His hands ripped at my clothing, which came apart like tissue paper. A moment later I was naked and trembling as if it were below freezing, yet the sweat poured out of my skin. I couldn't see his face because it was too dark, but I could tell he was a hulking brute of a man, not the kind to fool around with. All the better, that nagging itch said, and I had to agree. A man that big had to be able to get right up there where it counted.
He put his knife away but then he stopped, as if waiting for me to do something. I understood the situation at once. He wanted me to cringe, scream, express fright. "Please, mister," I said in a tremulous voice, "don't hurt me. I'm a virgin."
"So's my ass," he sneered coldly, and now he was undoing his pants.
"Please, I beg you," I said, sinking to my knees and raising my hands at him prayerfully, "I don't want to get pregnant."
"The most pregnant you could get from this is to grow a set of new tonsils," he said, and rammed his cock into my mouth. A maiden's prayer had been answered. I had to hold myself back from doing to it what I wanted to do, and just held the great organ between my lips, being careful to keep my teeth away from it. The man's big, hairy hands took a hold of my head and his meat slid into me slowly, making my eyes bulge with the effort of contetining all that manhood. He tasted delicious, kind of sweaty and pissy, and the pulsing of his blood made me shiver. If he knew how much I loved to have his dick in my mouth he wouldn't be so eager, I thought, and so I tried to push him away. He shoved my head back over his cock, fitting into me like a sword in its sheath. I couldn't breathe but I didn't want to at that moment. All I wanted was more cock! What did it matter if he got to my itch from the wrong entrance, just as long as he scratched it!
He started to fuck my face with less than finesse. His big cock moved in and out of my mouth with a strong, slow motion, reaching down into my throat on the downstroke and just teasing my lips on the upstroke. I couldn't hold back any longer, I had to take a grip on the base of his cock. When I got my hands around it I was shocked at how thick it was. It reminded me of a tree growing out of a branch! He didn't try to stop me from fondling him so I cupped his heavy balls in the palms of my hands too, squeezing them ever so gently, and he responded by pushing the full length of his dick down my throat. I had had some practice at relaxing my throat muscles, but this was akin to sword swallowing! I gagged and wrenched myself free, but only to gulp down a couple of lungsful of air, and then I was back down on him.
My rapist didn't care now if I liked it or not—he was enjoying himself and only my mouth mattered to him. I took full advantage of that to work my fingers into his fly to get at his hairy thighs, caressing them with thrills of pleasure. He was such a brute! At least six feet tall and five feet wide, with a cock to match, he could have fucked me into the ground if he'd chosen to. He was dangerous, too, which gave my pleasure a sharp cutting edge, and as I continued to draw my lips up and down his long baseball bat of a cock I felt my body undergoing all sorts of orgasmic turmoil. Not that it exactly reached a climax, it was rather more like all sorts of climaxes rummaging around in my belly, confused, now shooting up, now splashing or fading away, but always busy.
He didn't seem to notice when I let his cock poke up into the night air to get at his balls. I dipped them into my mouth the way men eat herrings, turning my face beneath them and coming up with my mouth wide open. They dangled inside me like two ripe apples and it was hard not to take a good bite out of them. But since I didn't feel like dying just yet I contented myself with licking and sucking at them, all of which made his cock throb jerkily with new passion. Then he grunted as if to say he wanted more cocksucking, and I readily obliged him. His dick was cool now but harder than ever, and I hastened to warm it up again with my spit. I noticed that each time I took all of him inside my mouth he let out a small, tense grunt; obviously it was a personal favorite of his. So that's what I kept doing, drawing my lips back against his smooth, veined skin and then gobbling him up the way a snake eats a pig. He loved it, he loved it! His hips began to power his thrusts, sending that lovable knob deep into my gullet, where my muscles worked to massage it. Now and then he stopped me by clamping my head between the palms of his hands and holding us both perfectly still. Only when he'd recovered himself did he start again, fucking my face and savoring the subtle motions of my tongue and lips with body and soul.
I began to concentrate on his knob, sucking at it, running my tongue around and around, and flicking the tip of it into that smooth area under the helmet-shaped flesh. Now my rapist began to get uneasy. His body moved erratically, either propelling his cock deeper into my mouth or missing the target altogether. Out of curiosity, I tried to take the side of his cock between my lips, but he preferred to have his knob worked on. If that's what he wanted, that's what he'd get. I fitted the firm head between my lips again and gave him the treatment. He couldn't last much longer, I figured, not the way he was twitching and sighing.
Sure enough, a moment later his cock plunged down my throat and released a huge tide of sperm into me that rose up into my mouth and filled me to bursting. I drank it down as best I could but spillage was unavoidable. The rapist didn't mind. He kept his cock in my mouth for a long time after, breathing heavily as though he'd just run a marathon race. Only when his cock slipped out from between my lips did he acknowledge the end.
"Hey, look at your clothes!" he exclaimed, viewing the tattered remnants strewn on the ground about me. "How are you going to get home in that condition?"
"You tell me," I suggested.
"Here, baby, put my shirt on," he said, taking it off. He had a T-shirt on under it so I accepted the shirt gratefully and wrapped it around my naked body. "Now get moving and don't look back. I don't want you getting a good look at my mug and telling the cops all about it, you hear?"
"Oh, I wouldn't think of doing that!" I said. "It was fun."
"Yeah, right," he muttered. "Now move it." I left the park and ran all the way home, up the ladder, and into bed. The taste of his sperm lingered with me until I fell asleep and produced the most vivid dreams afterward.