The redhead’s body was
breaking out in a sweat now, even though the basement wasn’t hot. Her eyes, squeezed tight against the pain and
humiliation, where fluttering open, showing flashes of green and the glitter of
unshed tears. But already the outrage
and horror that had filled them before was slipping away, replaced by confusion
and…Fear. Not of him, not at this
moment, anyway. He’d done his worst (if
she only knew, he grinned to himself), he’d taken her virginity. Just as he promised, his black cock was
between her slender white thighs, thrusting deep and hard into a pussy that was
no longer hers to control. That was the
fear in her eyes; that her body was accepting the pain, embracing the pain, needing
the pain.
He’d promised her that, as
well. That before she knew it, her body
would belong to him. It would both fear
and desire him, and when he touched it, no matter if it was pain or pleasure,
her flesh would respond to him against her wishes. He’d promised that her own body would betray
her, and once it did, she would be unable to prevent her mind from following.
Slowly, the screams had
turned to sobs, the sobs had turned to sharp little gasps, as his thick black
cock ripped again and again through the flushed lips of her cunt and thudded
against her cervix. The girl’s eyes were
wide open now, searching frantically about the darkened room, but there was
nothing beyond the pool of light they lay in, and the mocking eyes of the black
man above her. With a faint smirk, he
lifted his muscular hips and changed the angle of his attack, crashing through
her resistance, his prick rasping against her treacherously taut little
clit. Her gasps were louder now, her
panicked eyes looking down between them, seeing his enormous shaft, glistening
now, the streaks of her virgin blood nearly washed away by her own gushing
wetness.
He thrust hard into her
tight, hot, weeping hole and ground his pelvic bone against hers. She bit her lip and dug her fingers into his
hard, sculpted chest as her cunt muscles involuntarily squeezed the
overpowering invader between her legs. No, she screamed inside her head,
NO! I can’t!
She screwed her eyes shut,
trying to shut out the face of her rapist, trying to tear her mind away from
the flood of sensations he was driving into her belly with that cruel black
column of flesh. Suddenly, she sensed
his face near hers, felt his hot breath in her ear, his teeth biting into the
tender place where her neck met her shoulder, pulling her back into her body,
back toward the explosion building inside her quivering pussy.
She bit her lip, harder
now. Tears squeezed through the lashes
of her tightly closed eyes. She dug her
fingernails deeper into his chest, drawing blood, but he ignored it, and changed
his rhythm, fucking her hard but slow, making her feel every inch, every vein
of his cock as it plowed through her deflowered cunt. It was coming, she could feel it, and she
instinctively knew it wouldn’t be like the warm, but short-lived flush of
pleasure she got from touching herself in the bath. This was going to tear her apart, like his
cock was tearing apart her insides, and if she let it happen, how could she
ever say No? How could she even pretend
to be in control of her own body, her own destiny, if she came now like a whore
on his raping, rampaging cock? But even
as her head tossed wildly in fear and frustration, scattering her thick red
tresses across the mat, her lithe white legs closed around his pistoning hips.
***
Lakeview Estates was a
misnomer in more ways than one. To begin
with, there was no lake, the developers having run out of funds before they
could dredge out the artificial pond the brochure had promised; and the homes –
most of them anyway – no longer resembled estates. The tract sat a quarter mile from the main
road, barely visible through the screen of trees, a mix of completed and
half-built homes, their skeleton frames and flapping, tar papered roofs a
monument to the housing crisis and the near collapse of the local economy.
Most of the occupied homes were
in good repair, but each street had abandoned houses, and Kelly’s cul-de-sac
was one of the most desolate. It backed
up against several acres of woods that would have been paved over by now, had
the builders not gone bankrupt. The
houses on either side of her parents’ place were abandoned. One was boarded up, the pool drained, the
other had an optimistic For Sale sign out front, but the lawn and shrubs were
dead, and it had been weeks since Kelly had seen any prospective buyers look
the place over. It was the same across
the street; only three of the eight homes were occupied, and with the overgrown
yards it felt sometimes as though the woods were going to swallow the street
back up. More and more often lately she
was startled by the sounds of animals moving through the back yard, and was
once awakened by a crashing sound that turned out to be a bear leisurely pawing
through the contents of their garbage cans.
Kelly was glad it was
summer; she could imagine how forlorn the place would look, if the trees were
bare and the yards buried in snow. But
summer also meant she was alone in the house, and nearly alone in the
world. She had finished high school
three weeks ago, a month after her 18th birthday, and most of her
former classmates had left on graduation trips.
Kelly had planned to go with her best friend Donna to London and Paris
for a month – they’d spent most of senior year planning it – but then the
medical missionaries intervened.
Kelly’s parents were
plastic surgeons who ran a practice with two other doctors. All four partners were part of a medical
humanitarian group, and the two pairs would trade off every other year, going
down to Latin America and performing free reconstructive surgeries for indigenous
people with no other access to advanced medical care. This year it was their partner’s turn to go,
but Dr. Lang had gotten pregnant in April, and was having complications. Her obstetrician advised her not to travel,
and Kelly’s mother and father volunteered to go in her place, but that would
leave their house unattended for two months.
It nearly broke her heart,
but Kelly immediately offered to give up her trip and stay behind. She was a sweet, empathetic girl, who
couldn’t stand to see anything – human or animal – suffer, and she was proud of
the good works her parents did. If
giving up a month in Europe meant dozens of underprivileged people would be
able to lead more normal lives, then that’s just the price she’d have to pay.
“You’re my good girl,” her
mother said, her voice almost breaking with pride as she hugged Kelly.
“I wouldn’t have enjoyed
myself anyway, knowing those people needed you, and you weren’t there.”
“We’ll make it up to you
when we get back, Baby,” her father said.
“You’ll still have a month before you start college; we’ll make sure you
and Donna make it to Paris.”
“Thanks, Daddy.” She hugged him.
“You’re my sweet baby girl,
aren’t you?” He gave her a squeeze back, then kissed her forehead gently, and
brushed the hair from her eyes. “Don’t
ever change.”
She looked into her
father’s sea-green eyes, so like her own, and smiled back. “I won’t,” she promised.
***
But she hadn’t guessed how
lonely and bored she was going to be, cooped up all alone in the house. After almost a week of solitude, Kelly was
tired of watching TV, tired of flipping through the magazines in the living
room. She hadn’t even bothered to get
dressed today; it was late afternoon and she was still wearing the panties and
tank top she’d pulled on after showering.
Kelly sighed and looked at
herself in the mirror on her closet door; she had a bad case of bed-head. Usually she was conscientious about brushing
her thick, wavy Irish mane – dark red, with flaming highlights – usually tying
it back into a neat ponytail. But today
the mass of silken hair fell in a wild, luxurious tumble over her shoulders,
and nearly halfway down her back. Her
body was slender and athletic, making her C-cup breasts look more
prominent. Ordinarily she’d have them
carefully concealed inside the modest bras her mother bought her, but now they
swayed slightly as she shifted her weight, the air conditioning (it had to be
the air conditioning) making her pink nipples stiffen and poke against the thin
material of her t-shirt like pencil erasers.
She pulled up the hem of her tank top, exposing her belly, trim and flat
from the Pilates classes she took with her mother. Her legs were firm, shapely, but not overly
muscular.
She gazed at her face: Big
eyes, full lips, and a pert nose sprinkled with freckles – a very wholesome
picture. Kelly was satisfied with her
looks; she considered herself pretty, especially compared to the other girls in
her class. Some people, like Randy, the
boy who’d taken her to Senior Prom and later tried to get away with more than
he should, and even Donna, had told her she was beautiful. But she knew what
her mother would say if she saw her right now, standing in her panties, her
hair untamed, her full, upturned breasts straining against her tank top.
“You look like a slut.”
Kelly turned away from the
mirror and glanced around the room, desperate for some distraction. Her eyes fixed on her cell phone, sitting on
the nightstand, and for a long moment she considered calling Donna. But she just collapsed with a sigh onto her
bed. She didn’t think she could face
Donna just yet. Not after that night at
her house...
It was the Saturday after
commencement. The church had put on a barbecue for the graduates of the
parochial high school Kelly and her friends attended. There was another party that evening, at Randy’s
house, but Kelly wasn’t allowed to go.
On Prom night her father had given strict instructions that the boy was
to have Kelly home by midnight but it was after 1:30 when he finally dropped
her off. Her father was angry, and when
he heard that Randy was having a party while his parents were out of town, he
refused to let Kelly go. Even though she
was 18 now, her father was so loving, and refused her so little, she didn’t
feel she could disobey him. So Donna
suggested they have their own party.
Her parents were at the
country club that night, so they had the house to themselves. They ordered pizza, watched movies, and Donna
made Cosmopolitans.
“Are you sure your mom and
dad won’t get mad,” Kelly asked. Her
parents would let her have wine sometimes with dinner, and a little champagne
on New Years Eve, but she’d never had a cocktail
before.
“It’s fine,” Donna said,
pulling a bottle of vodka out of the freezer.
“My folks always let me have a drink with them if it’s not a school
night. You’ll love this. It’s mostly cranberry and lime juice – tart
and sweet.”
Donna mixed all the
ingredients up in a silver shaker, then poured the pink liquid into two martini
glasses.
“To a new school, new
lives, new experiences.” They clinked
glasses. Donna took a sip, watching over
the rim of her glass as Kelly sampled the cocktail. “What do you think?”
“It’s good,” Kelly said,
surprised. She always thought you’d
choke on your first taste of hard alcohol, like you did with your first
cigarette, but the Cosmo went down like candy.
As Donna promised, it was tart and sweet at the same time, and she
couldn’t even taste the liquor, although she wasn’t sure what vodka was
supposed to taste like.
They finished their first
round in the kitchen, chatting about their trip, getting increasingly
excited. Then Donna refilled their
glasses and said, “Let’s finish these in the Jacuzzi!”
“I didn’t bring my
suit.” None of Donna’s bathing suits
would fit her, although she supposed she could borrow a big t-shirt or
something.
“My parents won’t be home
till after midnight,” Donna said, heading toward the patio door. “Come on!”
Donna placed her drink on top of the TV, and started unbuttoning her
blouse.
“Donna…” Her friend was a lot more comfortable with
nudity than Kelly was. In the girl’s
locker room she would stand stark naked at the sinks, casually brushing her
thick black mop of hair, completely unconcerned, while Kelly would
self-consciously keep her towel tucked around her body and dress as quickly as
she could.
Donna tossed her blouse on
the couch, then kicked off her sandals and shucked off her jeans. “Kelly, come on…!” She reached between her breasts and opened
the front clasp of her bra. Donna wasn’t
fat, but she was all tits and ass.
Narrow waist, curvy hips, and big boobs.
They hadn’t begun to droop yet, but they did bounce a lot when she
walked, even when she was wearing a bra.
Which she wasn’t.
Donna tossed away the bra
and cupped her tits, rubbing her hands softly along the underside where the
cups had left a crease. The boys had
been chasing after her since she first began to develop in the fifth grade, and
Kelly could see why. She looked like a
Greek goddess, a womanly symbol of fertility and sex.
Kelly looked down at her
second drink and wondered: Am I getting drunk?
“Kelly!” She glanced up and saw Donna slide her
panties down her legs and kick them onto the couch. She put one hand on her hip and stood there,
naked but for a smile. “If you don’t get
undressed and into that Jacuzzi right now, I’m gonna
come over there and strip you naked!”
Kelly believed her. This wasn’t the first time Donna had
suggested they skinny-dip, but it was the first time they’d both been drinking,
and if Kelly was feeling a little woozy, she suspected Donna was feeling even bolder
than usual.
“Donna, no…I’m
embarrassed.” Kelly put her drink on the
counter and folded her arms across her chest.
Donna picked up her cocktail, drained it, and sauntered toward her. Kelly tried to focus on the bounce of her
cute bobbed hair, but couldn’t seem to keep her eyes away from the mesmerizing
jiggle and sway of Donna’s breasts. In
the back of her mind, Kelly noticed that her friend’s nipples were hard, and
wondered how that could be, when it was so warm in here.
Donna picked up the shaker
and refilled her glass, then topped off Kelly’s and held it out until finally
the redhead finally rolled her eyes and took it. Donna clinked their glasses, lifted her
cocktail to her lips, and murmured, “Drink your drink.”
Kelly took a big sip. She should probably stop, she thought, but it
was so tasty, and she didn’t know what else to with her hands or where to look,
what with her naked friend right in front of her.
“Don’t just stand there
with your boobs in my face! We’re not in
gym class.”
“What, these?” Donna smiled and cupped her breasts again.
“Oh stop. Yes!
You have bigger tits than me.
Don’t rub it in.”
Donna leaned over suddenly,
grabbing her boobs and rubbing them back and forth, grazing Kelly’s bare arms with her stiff nipples. Kelly’s instinct was to pull away, but it
would have jostled the drink in her hand.
Instead she sighed and sipped her cocktail, wondering why her friend
always had to push things so far, and try to make her do things she didn’t want
to do. “You’re too repressed,” Donna
would always tell her. “You need to
loosen up and experience a little of what the world has to offer.” But Donna wasn’t anymore
of a free spirit than Kelly was. She
went to the same church and the same parochial school, and dated even less than
Kelly did. So why was she always trying
to get Kelly to do crazy things when they were alone, but never taking her own
advice when she was in public?
Donna smiled wickedly. Kelly wanted to move away, but she seemed to
be trapped in the corner of the kitchen counter, and if she tried to squeeze
out, she’d have to slide against Donna’s naked body. She tried to look her friend sternly in the
eye, but she couldn’t help noticing the areolas of Donna’s big breasts were
crinkled, and the nipples achingly erect.
Her face and bosom were flushed and her big brown eyes were sparkling
with excitement.
She’s just teasing you, Kelly told herself. Trying
to make you feel like a prude. She loves
to embarrass you.