by James Crow
I nodded in Drew’s direction and expected to be kept waiting, but no, his arm flew out the window.
Focus! My dress was over my head and hanging from my hand and I stepped out from the memorial.
I’d taken no more than a half a dozen steps, the sun hot on my nakedness, my bruised tits jutting out before me, when the sound of a car horn tooting like crazy made everyone watching the river turn around.
Cheers went up. One woman screamed. I had to duck and dive when a man in shorts and a Spiderman t-shirt made a grab for me, and then dodge the grasping arms of a sweaty fat guy.
That car horn kept tooting and people were coming at me like flies to shit. That’s when I realised it was Drew tooting the pickup’s horn. I saw his fist pounding off the steering wheel. The bastard. That’s when I ran full pelt, my pained tits bobbing and it hurt like fuck, focused on Drew laughing his tits off in the truck.
Want to come training? Uncle Kev asked one night, just as soon as Mother went to meet her fancy man. I knew straight away he wanted a thrill, and I wasn’t going to say no.
Shorts, vest tops, running shoes and a balmy evening in the woods was the setting for my first multiple orgasm. Uncle Kev had put me through my paces, running over rough and dusty terrain. I was sore all over when we eventually stopped for a breather.
You know we can never touch, he said again, a phrase he would often repeat.
Yes.
But I can’t stop you looking.
He’d tugged his shorts down a little, took out his cock and pissed against the tree next to him.
I was fascinated by it.
You know we can never touch, I said. And when he looked my way, I shoved my shorts down and squatted and pissed a big puddle that snaked towards him.
His cock was hard in his hand before I’d finished. He told me to take my clothes off. Then he took my hand. Hands are allowed, he said.
I wanted to ask if I could hold his hand while he jacked off, but I didn’t. He led me to the river and we swam. I wasn’t a strong swimmer, not very good at all, but Uncle Kev helped me, held me up, showed me how to get more out of each stroke. I came in the water when his hands brushed against me. I came again, touching myself as he climbed out and I saw his hairy balls.
He dived back in and didn’t resurface. I dipped my head under and found him kneeling, jerking away at his cock. I held my breath and opened my legs for him to see and I watched his spunk floating in the water, coming again as I hit the surface, gasping for air.
He carried me to the grassy bank where we both shivered. I lay back, covered in goosebumps, and I played with myself as he watched and I came yet again. It was glorious. He was glorious.
Thanks, Uncle Kevin, I’d said and saw how his cock twitched.
Just Kev, he reminded me.
We held hands as we walked naked through the woods. I was in love with Just Kev. He became my hero. I wanted him to fuck me, and thought he would one day soon.
My dress was wrenched from my grip and I stumbled, almost fell, ran like crazy fucking hell to the pickup just as Drew started the engine and pulled out. I thought he was going to leave me, but he didn’t. He indicated to the back of the truck and I was up and over and lying on the sacks in the back a moment later.
He drove for miles and I just lay there on my back with the sun on me, coming down from the crazy high.
We turned into some forest and parked up in the shade of giant trees. Drew dropped the tailgate and grabbed my ankles and pulled me to him. He cut the ropes around my tits and the pain of release made me seethe. He pulled me from the truck by my hair and pushed me to my knees in the dirt and told me he needed milking.
‘Suck it hard for me, crazy bitch,’ he said.
I unbuckled his belt, popped his fly, dragged his jeans and boxers down to his knees and took hold of his semi-hard cock. It was warm, smooth to the touch. I opened my mouth and took him in, sucked him and his cock grew inside my mouth.
His hands were in my hair, pulling, tugging me back and forth as he fucked my mouth. I gagged, almost puked, but he kept on pushing down my throat. Kept on pushing until snot was coming out my eyes. He pulled out to come, held my head still with his fist in my hair and came all over my face.
Chapter Four
With my bra and knickers in my handbag and a scratchy blanket wrapped around me, I hurried up the steps to Drew’s flat. It was on the high street above the post office, and lucky for me there was a boutique next door.
The flat was small, untidy, grubby as well; a man’s flat. He told me to lie on the bed and came back with scissors. He got between my legs and snipped away at my pubes and I moaned the whole time. When he started scraping away with a razor, I came. And I came another few times before he’d finished fiddling with my bits.
‘Slap it,’ he said.
I opened my legs and slapped myself hard, just like I had all those years ago for Mr Boots. It felt good. My clit was blazing.
‘Again,’ he said, ‘don’t stop until I tell you.’
I counted ten slaps before he told me to stop. Then he was on the bed, first with his mobile phone taking close-ups of my pink cunt, then with his tongue, licking and sucking and I came as soon as he pushed a finger in my ass.
‘You like it up the arse?’ he asked as I got my breath back.
‘I don’t know, never done it,’ I said, and that was true. The fakes and pretenders who fucked me were mostly fucking clueless.
‘Never?’
I shook my head. ‘Gospel truth.’
‘A virgin ass, I’ll take that,’ he said.
‘Yes please.’
Uncle Kev showed me where my asshole was. Uncle Kev also took my virginity that same night.
We’re not going to the woods, he told me as soon as Mother tripped out the door. I was so disappointed, until he said he had a present for me. No touching, though.
He’d bolted the front door and the back door. No interruptions, he said.
He told me to put something nice on, and some makeup, and he’d be waiting in his bedroom.
I blushed up my cheeks. Reddened my lips. Applied some glittery blue eyeshadow. I thought I looked like a doll. Wearing something nice wasn’t so easy. I had skirts and some dresses, but my dresses weren’t sexy, they were just simple dresses. So I wore nothing. Walked into his bedroom and stood before him, the heat between my legs suddenly boiling when I saw the wank sock poking from his towel, his hand wrapped around the base.
You look good enough to eat, he said and my mouth watered so much I had to swallow the drool.
He stood up, still gripping his cock-filled sock, and told me to get on the bed.
He asked me how often I touched myself. Every chance I get, I told him.
He asked me how many times I’d been fucked. When I told him none, he said he didn’t believe me.
I opened my legs and told him to check for himself. He told me I was a dirty girl, and that it was all he could do not to fuck me. Make you bleed, he said. I still remember the thrill of those words.
I’d like that, I said and he eyed the thatch of hair between my legs.
And as he stared, I stared, at the sock poking from his towel, and he made sure I was looking when he moved his hand away – but the cock-filled sock stayed in it. I thought he’d pulled his cock off. He laughed at my gasp, then handed me the sock.
It was heavy, and it sure felt like there was a cock inside.
I want to see you use it, he said as I emptied the sock into my hand.
It was a cucumber, wrapped in cling-film. A fucking cucumber.
Dirty girls don’t need telling what to do, right? I lifted my knees and spread my legs and rubbed the tip of the thing up and down my cunt. It soon became slippery, and it felt nice, felt real.
Push it in, he said.
I’d had a finger in there before, but nothing bigger. I knew there’d be pain, and blood. I pushed the tip of the cucumber in, met resistance, pushed harder. I told him it fucking hurt.
&n
bsp; Course it’s gonna hurt. Keep pushing.
I told him it would be easier if he would just fuck me. He said no. Told me to push harder.
I pushed, winced, pushed harder, cried out at the sting as my flesh tore.
Fuck yourself, he told me and his cock was in his hand now. He stepped up close to the bed and I moved close to him and he watched as I pushed the cucumber inside myself again. I felt the blood trickle to my ass, felt the width and the hardness of the thing inside me, and I pushed in and pulled out, moaning for him as he jerked his dick, the fat purple end of it so close to my feet.
All the way in, he said and I pushed it all the way in.
His cock was straining now, so were his muscled thighs, pressing against the bed as his towel fell away. He was jerking fast when he told me to put a finger up my ass. I turned on my side and reached behind and pushed a finger deep, feeling the cucumber inside me.
Another, he said and a second finger stretched me. And then he was coming, spunking up all over my feet. I came then too, with a vegetable up my broken cunt and two fingers up my ass.
We didn’t touch, he said and went to the bathroom.
I borrowed Drew’s running shorts and a way-too-big Slipknot tee that I tied at the waist and we went shopping for a new dress. Drew chose it. Similar to the one I lost but polka dot, white on red. It had a button-down front. ‘Perfect for getting your tits out,’ he said.
‘I look like a slut.’
‘Yes,’ he said.
‘You’ve really never had your ass fucked?’ he asked when we were back on the road.
‘Never. I’ve had toys and stuff up there,’ I confessed and he seemed to like that.
‘And stuff? Tell me, dirty Dani.’
I fibbed a little, told him my first boyfriend encouraged me to play with my ass. I also told him that cucumbers wrapped in cling-film were really good, that I could orgasm that way. And that sometimes I wore a carrot up there to work.
‘Not so much a virgin ass then,’ he said.
I asked him where he was going to take me to fuck my ass. He said it was to be a surprise, and that I might not dare.
I laughed at that.
And then I laughed some more when he pulled up outside a church.
Our house was never a religious one. If there was a God he would have made you pretty, my mother liked to tell me. But I was introduced to the wonder that was Father Martin by Helena Watts at school. She attended St Michael’s twice a week, with her mother, but on this mid-week Mass, her mother had a migraine. I said I’d go with her, keep her company.
Father Martin dripped with lust. At least that’s how I saw it. Helena said I was taking rubbish. His voice boomed as he preached. His taut body evident beneath his robes. I imagined I was behind him, lying on the altar and fucking myself with the crucifix that lived there.
I was so wet and flustered when it was time to leave that I’m sure I left a damp patch on the pew. I went again a few times. Not with Helena. I went when she wasn’t there, hung around, listened and learnt, and eyed Father Martin as he eyed me. But he never made a move and neither did I in the end. I stole the crucifix from the altar, it would fit nicely up my cunt in bed at night. I never went back.
There was singing coming from inside the church as we walked around the side of it. Drew led me through the gravestones, to one next to a holly bush.
‘My old man,’ Drew said, taking hold of my hand. ‘I promised him, one day I’d find a pretty girl and fuck her ass over his grave.’
‘You’re kidding?’
‘He was a dirty bastard, appreciated my promise, said he’d be watching, said to fuck that ass real hard.’
‘And did you?’ I asked, thinking he must have fucked a hundred asses.
‘Not until today,’ he said, ‘today I found my pretty girl.’
‘But I’m not pretty.’ That was true. My looks were plain, not alluring. My figure was neither here nor there. My tits were average. Miss Average.
‘You’re crazy pretty,’ he said, ‘lose the dress.’
I wasn’t sure if that was a compliment, but glanced around the church grounds anyway. Not a soul. Only the sound of singing coming from the church. So I lost the dress. Hung it over Drew’s dad’s headstone and stood on his grave in my sneakers and my birthday suit. Drew snapped a branch from the holly bush and flicked it at my tits. The prickles pricked nicely and I stuck my tits out for more. He obliged, hitting my tits harder, my nipples taking it so beautifully. When he stopped, my flesh was speckled with blood spots.
‘Open your legs,’ he said, and when I did, he whacked my freshly-shaved cunt with the holly branch.
I backed against the headstone, rested my ass on it and opened my legs and he whacked that branch at me and I hissed for more.
‘No,’ he said and told me to show him my ass. I duly turned and leant my tummy onto the headstone and groaned some more as those holly leaves attacked my ass. He whipped me sore with it. Whipped me until my ass was on fire.
Then he was at me, spitting on my hole, rubbing it in, pushing two fingers straight on in and twisting them as I mewled for him, begged him to stick me with his dick, his dick that was pushing against my thigh.
He pushed it in my cunt first and fucked me fast until everything went into a blur before pulling out and forcing it into my ass. No stopping. No easing in. He just slammed on in there and I fucking squealed. He held me down at the waist and turned my ass inside out he fucked me so fast, his balls banging off my clit. I was coming, crying it out as he came, slamming each thrust, grunting and snorting until he was fucking empty.
He pulled out, staggered away, then came back with the holly branch and thrashed my ass some more. I didn’t move. I took it all. With my brow on that headstone and my ass in the air I took every hit and watched his spunk drip between my legs and onto his father’s grave.
He dropped to his knees, tears in his eyes. I dropped down next to him, kissed his cheek and held him as he sobbed. ‘You made him proud,’ I said.
Something I could never do – make my father proud.
Chapter Five
Drew decided food and beer was due. We ended up at Daisy’s Diner on the outskirts of town. I’d been here once or twice. It wasn’t really a diner. Cocktails and beers were the main thing, and you could order strips or wings or various combos. And Daisy wasn’t a woman. Mike and Alan welcome all, said the sign above the bar. Mike and Alan were bearded hipsters with a penchant for unicorn tees. Mike and Alan were so obviously in love. It was nice to see. A feel-good place. I imagined Mike and Alan fucking. Something I’d like to watch. Or take part in.
‘Sorry if I hurt you,’ Drew said as we sat in a booth.
I touched a hand to his forearm, stroked the hairs, squeezed at the firmness. ‘It was beautiful,’ I told him and he placed a hand on mine.
We ordered strips and sticky wings, and beers in frosted glasses, and once we’d eaten, we ordered the same again.
‘Fucking makes me hungry,’ Drew said.
I agreed and asked where he would like to fuck me next.
He took out his phone, brought up the pictures he’d taken, and passed it to me.
I scrolled through. My cunt looked strange all bare, and it made me horny to see all those little red pricks from the holly leaves.
‘That’s my favourite,’ he said when I paused at a close-up, the one where he’d just shaved me and I’d smacked myself pink.
‘I want you to send it to someone,’ he said, ‘that picture.’
‘Send it to who?’
He shrugged. ‘A random number. No, five random numbers.’
He said no one would know who the picture was of, plus it was his phone, not mine, so no trace back to me.
‘What about you? What if someone tells the cops and they trace your phone?’
He shrugged again. ‘I’ll ditch it, tell ’em it got nicked.’
‘Five numbers? Why five?’
He told me there’d be more chance of a respons
e. More fun to be had. Just a laugh. Just a giggle.
‘But it could be anyone. Male, female, old, young.’
‘We’ll find someone to fuck you,’ he said, ‘that’s if you dare.’
‘Any number?’
‘Start with the mobile prefix,’ he said, ‘then tap in any numbers.’
So I did. And sent my pink cunt pic. Five times.
‘Now we wait,’ Drew said.
Just hold your fucking horses, Uncle Kev had said, holding up a hand.
The front door had only just clicked shut on Mother’s back when I’d turned to him at the kitchen table.
Please fuck me now, I’d said.
The woods, he said.
Once we’d hit the woods, his hand found mine and I smelled his musk.
I asked him straight out. Where would you like to fuck me?
After a while he said, I know just the place.
We came to a wooden hut, hidden among the trees and overlooking a small lake. It was a bird hide that people used to watch birds on the lake through a pull-down hatch.
Inside was dusty and cobwebby. There was a grubby wooden bench, leaves and litter on the floor.
Let me see you, he said, closing the door.
I stripped slowly, watching his eyes. I unclipped my bra, let my tits fall free.
I love your little tits, he said.
I played with my nipples, made them hard.
Knickers, he said and I pushed them down, exposing my bush of hair.
He told me I was all woman as I lay down on the bench on my back with my feet planted on the floor. Told me I tasted so good as he buried his face between my legs. I told him I wanted to taste him, too. Strip for me, Kev.
He lost his clothes and straddled the bench, his cock and balls dangling over my face. I opened my mouth for him and he sank his dick through my lips, spreading my legs at the same time and dipping his head to my needy cunt.
We ate each other for a long time. I was on my third orgasm when Kev decided it was time. Are you on the pill?
Yes, I lied.
He pulled me to my feet and sucked hard on my tits. Sucked noisily and nibbled at the skin. I so wanted that cock inside me. I told him as much and he turned me to the open hatch and spread my legs, nudging my ass out a bit.
