Chapter 2
Christ! Barth Owens gloated as he watched Callie O'Hara's cheeks turn bright pink. She's as shy as a bride. But that's how I like 'em-nice, fresh pussy. Too bad she's been around, otherwise I'd bet my bottom dollar she still had her cherry!
"If it makes you feel better," he suggested, "I'll turn my back while you change, and you can close your eyes while I look at you, if it embarrasses you so much. But listen, Callie, if you get this job, you're going to have to get used to this. I'm an artist, and not interested in your body for-uh-shall we just say, romantic purposes," the older man lied through his teeth.
You've got to do it! The innocent blonde steeled herself for the ordeal. Don't be a baby! Remember how Jacques was always saying how there was nothing wrong with the human body, that you should shake off the hang-ups you got from listening to your aunt go on about morals ... and besides, you need the money!
"Okay, Barth." Callie reached out her hands for the nearly transparent outfit. "I guess I am being silly," she added, and even managed a shaky smile. Nevertheless, the habits of a lifetime were stronger than any artificial rationalizations, and the naive blonde waited until the dark-haired man had turned around before starting to undo the buttons running down the front of her still damp dress. As she tugged the snug-fitting bodice down over the uncovered mounds of her huge, sensuously throbbing tits, she was so overcome with mortification that she felt compelled to shut her eyes. I hope he can't tell how hot and wet my pussy is!
Silently, stealthily, Barth Owens twisted his neck around and half-opened one eyelid to peer at the luscious big-titted young blonde. As he'd suspected, the naive girl had actually scrunched her eyes tight shut, and he was free to feast his hungry, lecherous gaze on the charms of her huge, voluptuous twenty-year-old tits. It was all he could do to restrain his moan of anticipatory delight as first one huge naked tittie and then the other appeared before him, and when the green cotton dress eased down over her tiny navel and softly swelling hips, he thought his obscenely throbbing cock would explode from desire. Jesus, he couldn't wait to fuck her tight little cunt with it!
Is she ever built! he exulted, surreptitiously sliding one hand on top of the enormous bulge in his pants to massage his painfully pulsating prick. This is going to be a fuck to remember!
Shivering with shame, Callie O'Hara eased her cotton dress down over her smoothly curved ass-cheeks and firm-fleshed thighs. Then, with an inaudible sigh, she shyly let go of the protective garment and let it drop down around her sandal-clad feet. Quick as lightning, she stepped away from the discarded dress and tugged off her modest white panties, then hurriedly pulled on the tiny white panties of the costume.
The young blonde had moved so rapidly that the eagerly watching older man had only the briefest of glimpses of her softly curling blonde pussy hair, but he'd been able to ascertain that her cunt curls were the same shade of gold as the hair on her head. So she wasn't a bottle blonde like most of his female models! The outfit was so small that it allowed strands of pussy hair to escape, and he was sure that some of his other artist friends would be as excited as he himself was when he told them about this chick's genuine blonde pussy! Jesus, this little cunt could make a lot of money for herself if she played it smart.
Callie had an awkward time fastening the bra segment of her outfit. She didn't dare open her eyes, and her fingers were leaden and clumsy after the four glasses of scotch. At last, she was compelled to let her lids fall open so that she could tie the intricate ribbons which laced up between her huge ripe young tits.
"Ready?" enquired Barth, who'd turned his head away just in the nick of time.
"Y-yes," stuttered the blushing young blonde. She'd closed her eyes again, and crossed her arms over the revealing top in a vain effort to disguise her virtual nudity.
"Verrrry nice!" the artist exclaimed with enthusiasm. "Callie, babe, you've got tits and an ass that'll take you places, no kidding. Well, honey, the job's yours if you want it. Only one more thing."
God, now what? Callie's tortured mind moaned. J can't stand any more of this, really I can't. But I have to be brave. I need the money too badly not to! Fortified by the thought of her desperate financial situation, the innocent young girl paraded around the room as the artist instructed her. She felt like a tramp, a sluttish girl of the streets, as she twisted this way and that, bending and stretching in response to his instructions like a mindless marionette controlled by its master's strings. All the time, she was acutely aware of the sex-hungry male eyes staring at her pussy, tits, and ass, and finally she felt she could no longer take this debasement.
"Pl-please, Mr ... Barth," she whispered, trying to tug up the panties, which had a disconcerting habit of slipping down to reveal stray pussy curls whenever she moved. "Pl-please, I can't take any more of this, really. I'm not that kind of girl. I'm an artist, a serious artist, and I'm only trying to get other work so I can buy my materials! I'm not like Sheila Eamon or any other of the cheap ... cheap tramps that you're probably used to."
Barth Owens's lewd smirk broadened at the inexperienced blonde's plaintive plea, and his huge cock throbbed as he noted how her girlish nipples tautened into red little berries as her agitation increased. Instinctively, he sensed that beneath her facade of propriety, this chick had an extremely hot-blooded, cock-hungry cunt.
I wonder if her boyfriend ever got her really turned on? he ruminated as he watched her lushly rounded ass-cheeks undulating beneath the skin-tight, almost see-through panties. I bet he didn't, and I'm gonna show her a thing or two about fucking that'll get her down off that holier-than-thou pedestal.
"What's the matter, babe?" he replied to the voluptuous blonde's pleas. "Your ass is looking fantastic!"
Couldn't he just say yes, I get the job, or no, I don't? She felt like a Roman slave-girl on the block standing practically naked in front of this lecherous older man, and longed with all her heart to get back into her green shirtwaist, damp and uncomfortable though the dress was. Golly, if Jacques could see her now, he'd never forgive her!
"Yeah, you'll be just fine, just super," Barth interrupted the diffident girl's reverie. "There's only the matter of that one extra favor I mentioned before ...",
My God, what kind of favor? the innocent young blonde's brain spun dizzily at the sound of those ominous words. What on earth does he mean by that?
The artist's lewd smile broadened at the sight of the girl's obvious discomfiture. "I mean, I did you a favor, now you do me a favor," he explained, taking a step toward her as his heavily throbbing cock jerked in painful passion against the tight-fitting fabric of his pants. "I mean, if most artists had seen the way you were crying like a kid, they'd have told you to get lost. Professionals don't have time for any kid stuff. But I gave you a chance, babe, I let you show me all that you've got."
Innocent as Callie was, she knew at once what the older man meant. Oddly enough, now that the disturbing ambiguity of her situation was clarified, she felt a cold, resigned dread overtake her nervousness. Well, do I want the job badly enough? she asked herself coolly, cynically.
"You dig what I mean, babe?" the eagerly panting older man leaned toward her. "It's fair play, don't you agree?"
For a brief moment, Callie had been tempted to go along with the man's obscene bribe and let him fuck her. It was better than going back to her aunt, jobless. Besides, she hadn't been fucked in too long. But as she heard the ominous metallic sound of a zipper being yanked down and saw the handsome older man moving toward the sofa before which she stood almost naked, all thought of letting him fuck her pussy fled from her intoxicated mind. Her cunt was so hot to be fucked, but he might ... he might want to do something perverted!
"N-n-no!" she stammered through chattering teeth as she backed up against the couch and collapsed in a limp heap in its far corner. "Don't t-touch me, please! Pleeeeze! I-I have to get g-going now ... I can't let you ...",
Suddenly, a menacing transformation had changed Barth Owens's formerly friendly, kindly features into a mask of bestial lust, and as the naive young blonde stared at him, she felt as though she were about to faint. Vanished was the fatherly, kindly man whom she'd liked to think of as a benefactor, and in his place was a ruthless, animalistic monster! Oh God, and he wanted to fuck her cunt!
"Oh please ... please, you misunderstood me," Callie stammered, huddling up in the corner of the couch and feeling uncomfortably aware of her obscene outfit. "D-don't look at my titties that way! You're-you're scaring m-me!"
Barth laughed mirthlessly, menacingly. "What's there to be scared of, my dear? I'm not gonna hurt your titties, we're just gonna get to know each other real good. You're gonna love it."
"N-no, really, I have t-to be going," Callie squealed desperately as the muscular man plonked down beside her on the couch. "M-my Aunt Lizabeth . ... "
"Fuck your Aunt Lizabeth," the artist barked, his face red and vulgar with feverish lust. "This little guy here wants to make friends with you, babe. He wants to real bad!"
With these lewd words, the lust-crazed artist brandished his hugely pulsing prick in the trembling, wide-eyed girl's direction, stroking its thick foreskin back and forth to reveal the huge, lust-swollen cockhead. Then, grasping her tender-fleshed upper arm with iron-hard fingers, he dragged her beautiful, fear-distorted face close to his own.
"How about a little kiss, baby?" he leered. "A thank you kiss 'cause I gave you this fine job?"
A wave of unwanted passion swept over Callie O'Hara at the thought of letting her lips touch this lewdly excited man's mouth; she had never so much as kissed another man except Jacques, her young boyfriend, but the idea of letting a total stranger fuck her pussy so excited her that she unwillingly let out a low moan. Then, desperately, she struggled to her feet. But her knees were so weak from all the scotch she'd unwittingly consumed that she crumpled in a limp heap on the floor.
"What's the matter, honey?" Barth's voice was harsh and vulgar now, utterly devoid of his former slick, paternal intonations. You don't dig my nice big tool?"
"No!" the innocent twenty-year-old wailed. "Please ! Don't touch me! I-I'm not that kind of a girl!"
Her feverish moans only seemed to excite the lecherous older man more than ever. With a gleeful snort of lust, he ripped off his shirt and tugged his half-undone paint-splattered pants all the way off. Naked, Barth Owens was as handsome and muscular as a twenty-year-old, and a vision of Jacques's hugely throbbing cock flashed before the helpless girl's eyes. Despite herself, her pussy was hotter than ever. But she couldn't let this total stranger fuck her!
"Noooooooo! Don't touch meeeeeeee!"
The shrill female cry echoed eerily throughout the studio and Barth Owens grinned as he knew that even if Doug, his assistant, or some of the neighbors overheard her cries, they were far too used to hearing them to be alarmed.
"Shut up!" he commanded, twisting Callie's arm till she turned pale with pain. "You know damned well that your cunt's all hot and wet. Chicks like you are all the same."
"Please, please!" the naive young blonde protested, lowering her voice but continuing to resist the man's wantonly groping hand on her huge, nearly naked tit despite the violent aching in her pussy. "I d-don't want to model for you! I don't want to let you fuck my pussy!"
"Bullshit, and you know it. But it's too late anyway, baby," Barth Owens hissed, pleased that she'd lowered her voice in obedience to his commands. "Too late now! You gotta do what I say. You're gonna love it, babe; your little pussy's really gonna love it!"
No, it can't be true! Callie thought dazedly. The man's cruel face blurred before her alcohol-disoriented eyes as a swift procession of images floated before her mind's eye. First, she saw Jacques's clear-eyed, sandy-haired image, and remembered with an acute pang of pain the life of freedom and universal love that they'd planned; next, her Aunt Lizabeth's gaunt, accusing face swam through her brain, and a shudder of fearsome guilt slunk through her trembling body at the imagined sight of her aunt's condemning eyes. Although Callie had ceased to take her aunt's frenetic moral tirades seriously at about the age of fifteen, there still resided deep in her subconscious irreversible traces of turpitude whenever she committed an act contrary to the stern moral and religious doctrines imposed upon her during her developing years. Jacques had been tender and understanding and he'd never forced her to perform any obscene sexual acts that might make her feel uneasy. Now, to her horror, she recognized that she could not appeal to this older man's better nature, for he was nothing more than a lust-driven wild beast.
"Nooooooo," she wailed again, her voice poignantly hopeless as she tried desperately to squirm away from his rummaging hands.
"Shut up, I said! You're gonna love to be fucked!" the lust-crazed man growled.
Callie fell silent, though she still continued to struggle in a weak, futile way. It's all over! she thought, But at least I can keep my pride by fighting this animal off. That's the least I can do for poor Jacques sitting all alone in that dreadful prison in Greece.
Then, as the man's thick hands grasped her fearfully trembling tits in a vise-like grip and tweaked her sensitive nipples, all of Callie's thoughts vanished in a cloud of mortification tinged with the unwanted flickers of lewd excitement up in her cunt. She felt hot tears brimming at her eyelids as her sensuously throbbing tits swelled in unwanted response to the lusting artist's lecherous caresses, and, most humiliating of all, a despicable dampness was still moistening the cuntband of her white panties.
Gosh, I hope he doesn't notice that my pussy is getting wet! Callie agonized in silent despair. Oh God, this is wrong! I shouldn't want so much to have a dirty old man like him fuck my cunt!
The innocent young blonde flinched as the man's hand suddenly groped between her uselessly kicking legs to cup her indecently dampened pussy. She tried with all her might to shove him away, but that awful scotch seemed to have turned her muscles to water.
"All nice and wet like I thought!" the excited man panted, quite as though he were reading his tremulous victim's thoughts. "All ready for me, huh? All set for my big hard prick?"
The girl beneath him turned white at the obscene words, which pleased Barth immensely. He liked his chicks to put up a fight. Then suddenly, a lewdly intoxicating idea occurred to the artist.
"You ever suck cock?" he asked, feeling sure that she hadn't. "You ever take a nice hard prick in that sweet little mouth of yours?"
Callie's only reply was a helpless shudder of repugnance. Of course she'd never sucked a man's cock! Once, Jacques had suggested that it might be a pleasant variation from their normal missionary position, but when she'd objected, he'd apologized and never so much as mentioned it again.
"You filthy animal!" she whimpered. "You can't do this to me! Not that!"
Callie's last protests echoed hopelessly in her ears as the determined artist slunk down so that his muscular body was positioned between her futilely writhing legs. Despite her attempts to escape him, he pinned her down with one hairy, strong-muscled leg and trapped her in a mortifying splayed-out position on the studio couch.
"C'mon, babe, stop playin' hard to get!" Barth growled, panting as he tried to position his limbs in the obscene pattern he'd decided was appropriate to this occasion. This little stuck-up cunt was going to suck his cock, if it was the last thing he did in this fucking life!
Disregarding Callie's plaintive mewls and moans, Barth eased his torso over her fear-distorted face so that his obscenely throbbing prick hovered menacingly over her flushed cheeks and tightly compressed lips.
"Now babe!" he hissed, tangling his fingers in her long blonde hair so roughly that the frightened young girl gasped aloud in agony. "Suck it! Stick my prick right between those sweet lips of yours and suck it like it was a piece of candy!"
Scrunching her eyes shut in a vain attempt to shut out the reality of her nightmarish situation, Callie prayed with all her might for a miracle. If only he'd fuck her sex-starved pussy instead. He just couldn't fuck her in the mouth with that thing. Dear God! she implored in silent anguish. Save me from this monster! How can I ever kiss Jacques again if I let his filthy prick touch my mouth ? But even as the shuddering young artist's mind prayed for a miracle, the hugely pulsing cockhead was pressuring excitedly against her sealed lips. It seemed warm and of a smooth, rubbery texture, not cold and slimy as Callie had anticipated, but her revulsion remained as intense as before.
Then, as the ruthless artist's thumb and forefinger reached out to pinch her nostrils shut, all thought faded from the helpless blonde's mind. The most urgent human need of all, the necessity to breathe, overwhelmed her senses as she hopelessly opened her mouth to gasp for air, and in that vulnerable instant she felt his thickly pulsing cock fuck into her mouth!
"Aaaagggggghhhh," she choked out as the huge, hotly throbbing prick thrust with relentless force between her ballooning cheeks. "You can't do this! Let me goooooo!"
"Sure you can go, babe!" the man grinned in obscene triumph. "Soon as you finish sucking my dick, I'll even let you finger your hot little pussy! And every time you get the urge when you're modeling for me, you can just go ahead or prance on over and give my prick a lick. You'll like that, won't you, sweetie?"
"Nooooo! Noooooooooo!" Callie's protest burst from her impaled lips in an obscene gurgle as the hugely pulsating cock fucked its way down toward the back of her throat. "I don't waaaaannnntttt your nasty modeling job! I don't want to finger my pussy or suck your prick!" Her voice was muted, her words distorted by the lust-bloated cock filling her mouth. "Mmmmmmmppppph!"
The excited older man only laughed, a vicious, gloating cackle, but Callie scarcely heard him as a vague memory drifted through her alcohol-sated brain. One of the girls she'd known in art school, a luscious brunette, who later ran off with a woman set designer from Hollywood, had once recounted her bitter story. She'd been raped by two of her uncles and had since developed a method for resisting lust-maddened men.
"Go for their balls," the beautiful young lesbian had advised a wide-eyed Callie. "It doubles them up long enough so you can get away."
Without a moment's hesitation, the terrified blonde did exactly as her friend had advised. Her balled-up fist slammed into Barth's balls and his prick slipped from her lips as he groaned in agony.
"Aaaaaagghhhhh!" the man gasped, clutching his painfully throbbing balls. "You cunt! You fucking little cunt!"
That elusive instant was all Callie O'Hara needed to leap to her feet and race toward the door, haphazardly snatching up articles of her discarded clothing as she ran. Adrenalin surged through her bloodstream, giving her the energy to reach the exit before the groaning man had straightened his bent-over body, and hope surged through her as she grasped the doorknob, but the door was locked! Oh God, what was she going to do now!
"You stupid little bitch!" the older man raged. He stumbled to his feet with his aching groin still clutched in one hand. "Of course, it's locked. Maybe you're not so smart after all. I was planning on treating you nice, but not now. After this, you're gonna really get it, babe!"
Callie balanced as the naked man lurched unsteadily toward her. Her fingers turned white as she gripped the latched door in a frenzy of despair, and she trembled like a leaf in a gale as he advanced toward her with menacing voracity.
"I-I'm s-sorry," she stammered in acute fright, awkwardly covering her huge, nakedly billowing tits and softly curling blonde pussy hairs with her shaking hands. I ... please ... I ... ooooohhh!"
Brutal male hands clutched at her tender cunt, yanking her unwilling body against his own, and then she felt herself hurtling across the room. As she landed back on the couch, her legs spread wide, she lay naked and unprotesting in fear of enraging the man more than he already was. Her situation was utterly hopeless; she could not hope to fight off Barth Owens and would have to let him fuck his prick into her mouth if she wanted to escape from this awful place without some severe physical injury. He might even kill her if she didn't go along with his plans.
"Aaaaagggghh ...", she gagged as, once again, the naked man jerked her face toward his huge menacing cock. He was crushing her head so tightly to his obscenely pulsating cock that she could barely speak. God, it was huge!
"C'mon, babe," the artist commanded in furious impatience. "Suck my dick like I told you to the first time. Go on, do it, or you'll be goddamn sorry!"
Although her stomach was knotted with fright, Callie had no choice now but to timidly flick out her pink tongue toward the older man's angry-red cockhead, and for the first time she licked at it! It tasted salty, rather acrid, but not really unpleasant, and as she obediently lapped at the tiny pearl-like droplet of pre-cum on the tip of his throbbing prick, a thrilling, unwanted shudder of forbidden lust again coursed through her cunt.
Callie ignored the unforgivable pricklings of excitement, never dreaming that anyone, not even that Sheila Eamon, could glean pleasure from something so perverted as sucking a man's cock. Tears of humiliation trickled over Callie's flushed cheeks as she gave a last deploring glance at the total stranger who was forcing her to perform this disgusting, unnatural act.
What would Jacques think if he could see her now, she despaired, remembering the one and only time she'd seen the handsome Frenchman since he'd been unjustly thrown into prison. Even as she let her reluctant lips slide another inch over the insistently pressuring cockshaft, a vivid image of the village jail flashed before her mind's eye. Jacques had been too far away for her to touch, behind a rusty iron grating, but she'd been close enough to note that his cheeks were sunken and his skin pallid. The unshaven, nearly toothless jailer had even hinted in broken English and with obscene gestures that if she took off her blouse and held her huge naked titties real close together so that he could fuck his cock between them, that he might accidentally leave the key to Jacques's cell out on the table while he was at the taverna. She had been almost ready to unbutton her top, but Jacques had become insane with rage. Nothing was worth allowing a lecherous old man to fuck her titties! he had screamed. Later, when he had calmed down, he had made her promise to go back home to Charlotte until he could get in touch with some friends to help her.
"You'll wait for me?" he had asked, reaching his hand between the bars, trying to touch her. "You'll be true to me?"
"Oh yes, Jacques! Oh yes!" she'd cried. "I love you, and only you!"
And now, less than two weeks later, she was sprawled on a couch in a dreadful artist's studio, allowing him to fuck his huge, mouthwatering prick between her lips. It was revolting, unforgivably wanton, but what could she do? The door was locked and the man was far stronger than she was. There was absolutely no escape!
"C'mon, bitch!" Barth Owens growled. "Suck it good, ya hear. Suck it till my cum explodes in your sweet little mouth!"
A black cloud of abject degradation descended over Callie O'Hara's alcohol-and lust-dazed brain as the ruthless older man's heavily throbbing cock suddenly fucked deep down into her vainly contracting throat. Her wetly ovaled mouth was completely filled with heatedly throbbing cock, and the man's horrid, hugely fucking prick seemed to harden and swell even more as she tried in vain to pull her mouth away.
"Suck it good, cutie!" the passion-crazed artist croaked. His fingers dug roughly into her disheveled hair, pulling her fear-distorted face even closer to his lewdly impaling prick. "Use that hot little tongue of yours to clean old dickie!"
Though Callie tried to keep her tongue from touching the obscenely erect cock, the desire-driven hardness seemed to grow harder and swell within the confines of her stretched and aching cheeks. Yet, since she was afraid of what the brutal older man might do if she appeared unwilling to comply with his corrupt demands, she finally touched her tongue to the throbbing head of his huge, obscenely excited prick.
"Wow!" Barth Owens exclaimed, as he snapped his pelvis forward to ram his fully erected hardness further down into the helpless young blonde's mouth. "That's the way! Lick it clean, baby. Suck it. Yeah man, you sure do know how to give a blow job!"
This can't be happening, the girl's mind wailed. It's too disgusting to be true. But even as this thought floated through her scotch-clouded consciousness, the huge fitted young artist was automatically swirling her small pink tongue round and round the older man's rubbery-textured foreskin. She felt as though she would faint from the combination of fear, discomfort, and moral disgust, but nevertheless she continued to nibble at his huge, relentlessly fucking cock. As his hot pre-cum juices flowed into her wantonly sucking mouth, she felt another wave of nausea wash over her near-naked young body.
The huge lust-swollen cockhead seemed to grow ever longer and thicker until Callie feared it would actually choke her to death. Suddenly a horrifying thought flashed through her mind: Oh my God, he's going to cum in my mouth! He's going to cum in my mouth!
Callie's nakedly spread ass-cheeks tensed and her warm wet mouth froze in paralyzed panic around the older man's lewdly invading prick. The very thought of swallowing disgusting male cum was thoroughly repugnant, but there was nothing she could do except to keep sucking and licking at the man's obscenely throbbing prick with her unwilling lips.
With every punishing stroke, Barth Owens fucked deeper into the helpless girl's virgin mouth. The velvet-soft moisture of her involuntarily clasping lips, soft and warm as melted butter, was driving him insane, and he knew that he couldn't hold back his pent-up cum for much longer. Much as he would have liked to prolong the stuck-up little bitch's torture, his painfully jerking balls were churning with an intolerable pressure which would, any minute now, explode down his wildly jerking cock and splash all over the prick-teasing blonde's throat and face. Jesus, he could hardly stand it any more! At the intoxicating vision of prissy little Miss Callie O'Hara spattered with his searing, white-hot cum, the egotistic artist let out a bellow of conquering triumph and fucked his saliva-coated cock harder and wilder than ever in and out of Callie's aching throat.
Blackness studded with multicolored stars swam before her eyes as she struggled to breathe without choking on the viciously fucking prick, and all thoughts of shame or modesty fled from her pain-disoriented brain. Oh God, I have to end this before he chokes me on his horrible prick, her tortured mind screamed as she sucked the hugely impaling cock as though she'd been performing the lewd act for years. Her aching cheeks suctioned the lust-swollen prick, and some unconscious instinct told her to simultaneously tease her tongue along the excitedly fucking hardness. Oddly enough, as she manipulated the rubbery foreskin and ran her tongue along the heavily veined underside of the older man's ever-swelling cock, a strange masochistic excitement once again began to tingle in the hot juicy walls of her cunt.
Oh God! No! she shuddered, shocked to find that the unwanted pussy juices were once again dampening the cuntband of the brief white panties. What's wrong with me? Has this awful man turned me into a whore?
Yet even as guilty self-accusations flooded into the half-intoxicated blonde's careening consciousness, she found her trembling hands reaching out to grasp the sparsely-haired sacs of the older man's sensuously dangling balls, which had been slapping obscenely against her face. They felt velvet-soft and excitingly alive, and Callie's traitorous pussy felt on fire with unwanted sensations of arousal.
"That's the way, baby!" Barth Owens gasped excitedly, shoving her head closer against his ready-to-explode cock and fucking into her clasping throat with rampaging fury. "Suck it real good, you little slut. like that ... aaaagghhhh ... aaaaahhhhha ... ahhhhhhh!"
Am I really a whore? the young girl's mind spun dizzily as she squeezed the man's cum-laden balls and ran her tingling tongue over the little glans opening in his blood-bloated cockhead. I must be. Oh, God help me! I'm really nothing but a sick, perverted slut.
"Aaaaarrrrgggghhhh ... now. I'm cuuuuummming in your sweet little mouth. Aaaaarrgghh, suck, suck it baby."
The naked man's loud cry broke through Callie's troubled reverie, and then she tensed in disbelieving horror as hot jets of sperm splashed against the back of her throat. He was really cumming in her mouth! It was the most depraved thing she could imagine, but somehow, she'd been foolish enough to hope that even this inhuman monster would at least take his prick out of her mouth and spew his vile cum over her body.
For a few tortured seconds, the disgusted girl tried to resist swallowing the burning hot cum, but at last she was forced to gulp it down to keep from gagging. Her cheeks ballooned out as her entire mouth was filled with stream after stream of thick, acrid-tasting cum, and her Adam's apple bobbed up and down in her swan-like white throat. Beads of perspiration broke out on her smooth forehead as the blissfully groaning artist kept her tousled blonde head pinned to his huge, lewdly spasming prick, forcing her to swallow every searing droplet of his gushing outflow of life-giving cum until the inexperienced twenty-year-old thought she would drown. For a seeming eternity, Barth Owens's wildly cumming cock continued to jerk excitedly between the voluptuous blonde's straining, cum-slickened lips.
Forcing a naive young chick to satisfy his sexual craving always gave the sadistic artist an especially powerful cum, one that went on and on in continuing waves of pure physical release. At last, much to the cum-spattered girl's relief, his oversized cock began to pump more slowly, then deflate to the size of a limp balloon, and with a grunt of satiated lust, he pushed her face away from him and collapsed back against the couch panting with pure exhaustion.
Callie O'Hara's glazed green eyes focused on the heavily breathing naked man for an instant before she crawled off the sofa and began scuttling around retrieving her discarded clothing. With fingers that shook so badly she could barely unfasten her outfit's intricate buttons and laces, she tore off the lewd costume and hurried into her own dress and modest white underwear. Luckily, the older man, whose cum was drying in sticky strands on the horrified girl's chin and cheeks, seemed to be more or less unconscious and took no notice.
Even though her dress was still damp from the rain, the degraded young blonde was unaware of any discomfort in her haste to escape from the scene of her downfall. Gingerly scrubbing at her cum-spattered face with the back of her hand, she backed cautiously toward the spot where Barth's discarded pants lay in a heap on the studio floor. There must be keys in one of his pockets; she could open the door and escape from this awful place, if only he didn't wake up and catch her first. But for the first time that day, luck was with Callie O'Hara. Her trembling fingers found the keys in the first pocket she tried, and she'd tiptoed all the way to the door, scarcely daring to breathe, before the man opened his bloodshot eyes and glowered at her.
"Where'ya headed for, baby?" he sneered with a vulgar, intimate smirk. "Didn't your Aunt Lizabeth ever teach you any manners? It's not polite to eat and run." Barth Owens half-raised his naked muscular body to a sitting position, but by then Callie was halfway through the door. A loud, obscene laugh broke from his lips as he watched her slender figure fleeing, her smoothly curved ass-cheeks undulating provocatively beneath her damply clinging dress as she ran down the hallway toward the door.
"Fantastic head-job, kiddo," he called out after her. "You can start modeling for me tomorrow morning! And I got some friends who might be interested. We could show you some things that are even more fun than cocksucking!"
Anger swelled beneath Callie's hugely trembling tits at the sound of the unscrupulous artist's vulgar words.
The nerve of him! As if she'd ever so much as set foot within a block of his studio of sin again. But though she longed to fling back a retort, her throat was so choked with tears and cum that she could not speak.
It had stopped raining outside, and it had grown dark while she was locked in Barth's studio. On the corner of the block, a gang of seedy looking youths with cigarettes hanging out of their mouths stared hungrily at the huge-titted young blonde who was running wildly along East Trade, and Callie shuddered as crude comments and wolf whistles greeted her in the gathering darkness.
"What's the rush, girlie? Your cunt on fire?"
"Wanna tickle my prick till it spits, blondie?"
Other eyes, both curious and lecherous turned toward the tearful young beauty, but Callie O'Hara was almost oblivious to them. Her mind was a black pool of misery as obscene images of Barth Owens's hugely throbbing cock played before her big green eyes, and she could still taste the obscene, searingly pungent cum he had shot deep into her virginal throat. Her whole mouth ached from the brutal mouthfucking, and she felt dirtier than she had ever felt before in her entire life.
Worst of all, the thought which kept the tears brimming up again and again in her shock-widened eyes was the disgraceful way her own pussy had reacted while she was sucking and licking on his huge, deeply fucking cock. And her cunt had actually been on fire! Only the most despicable, vile sort of slut's cunt would become so hot!