by Ashley Hall
She just rolled her head from side to side.
In and out, I thrusted deep, stretching her pussy out. She moaned again, long and loud. “Wes…”
“Keep quiet,” I repeated, still smiling, “Unless you want everyone in this house to know who’s fucking your pussy this good. Is it me, Miss Morrison?”
Nothing in the world had ever compared to this. April was so responsive, and it was incredible. Every time I kissed her, she gave me more of herself. Every time I squeezed her boobs, she’d wiggle beneath me. Whenever I pinched her nipples, she’d moan. Whenever I sucked on her neck, she’d run her fingers up and down my back, giving me shivers in all the right places.
I was pounding into her faster now, trying to bring on our orgasms, and her moaning was growing even louder, so loud I had to cover her mouth with a hand.
But she sucked on my thumb instead.
God, she was killing me! The hard sucking sensation shot straight to my cock.
I couldn’t hold it anymore. I leaned way down so my pelvis was grinding against her clit, and after a dozen short, hard thrusts, I felt her heat up.
“April, I want you to come for me, like you always wanted to,” I growled.
Instantly, she did, her walls closing around my cock, massaging it, and April nearly screamed into my saliva-covered palm. The milking sensation was too much for me, and I came immediately with her, pumping shot after shot of my seed into her.
I came so hard I was dizzy. I never felt like this before. It was better than any high I ever had, better than any buzz. For a moment, I lay down with her and admired how gorgeous she looked—she was a fucking mess, literally, with messy hair, glazed-over eyes, swollen pink lips shining with saliva, sweaty skin covered in my strategically placed hickeys, and bruises from my grip.
Without thinking, I kissed her once more, and it was tender and proud and sweet. She sighed against my lips.
The gesture was too intimate, and it broke whatever spell had come over me. I pulled away, trying to calm my thoughts, and cleaned myself up.
“You should probably get cleaned up too,” I said, using my shirt to wipe up the mess after I remove the condom.
April nodded, looking a little dazed. She dressed herself.
When she walked over to the door, I had to say something. “Be gentle,” I murmured.
“Thank you,” she said with the biggest smile I’d ever seen. She opened the door, and just like that, she was gone.
I thought I might regret this, but right now, in this moment, I couldn’t regret it. Not yet.
Chapter Twenty
April
I thought I’d wake up in the morning feeling different, feeling hollow, empty, defiled. Instead, I felt warm and full and alive, just like I did during and after. With a smile, the one I still wore ever since I sneaked out of Wes’s room last night, I stretched, and I loved how sore I felt all over my body and especially down there.
Even at school, Wes and I seemed to get along like we’d known each other since we were kids. It just felt natural…and it felt right.
How could something so sinful and wrong feel so good and right?
But it couldn’t happen again. Just a one-time deal. That was all.
But it haunted me. In my dreams. In my thoughts. I would constantly touch my lips and remember how it felt to kiss him, for him to suck on my lips, how his lips and tongue felt against my naked skin. It felt as if there was a part of him inside of me, or maybe I had given him a part of me, even though I felt while and not at all like I was missing a part of me. No, I felt more. More alive. More whole.
And I wanted even more.
***
During the week, Mom took me dress shopping for the ball. It made me feel very wicked to know I’d be going to the purity ball without my virginity intact, but that was exactly what I had wanted, and I was still glad I had given it away. Did it make me feel better that I had given it to Wes over Adam? That was something I didn’t bother to dwell on. One, I already knew the answer, and two, since it wouldn’t happen again, I didn’t need to worry about that.
My mom was looking over the racks and pushing aside the ones that were too low cut or had too high of a slit. Her frown made lines appear around her mouth and eyes, aging her.
“What’s wrong, Mom?” I asked as I looked through dress on the next rack over.
“Nothing, dear,” she said distractedly. “No, not this one,” she muttered.
“You seem sad.”
“Of course not. Don’t be silly.”
I wasn’t buying it. She was sad and bothered about something, and it upset me that she wasn’t telling me what or why. Whistling softly, I pulled out a red dress. It screamed too much no longer a virgin so I put it back.
“You know,” Mom said conversationally, “you seem to be in a very good mood.”
“Oh.” I laughed nervously and turned my back to her. “It’s just nice to spend time with you.” I glanced over my shoulder. She was staring at me curiously. When I smiled at her, she waited a moment before smiling back.
***
Friday night, the night before Dad and I would leave for the ball, I sneaked out of my room and over to Wes’s, this time wearing my new evening gown. It was a deep purple that contrasted nicely with the blue of my eyes with a modest neckline and jewels encrusted on the bodice. It had a full skirt that reached down to the floor. I looked like a cartoon princess in it.
I knocked softly on the door. He didn’t open it, and I went to knock it open when the door swung wide open. Wes didn’t say anything. He just looked at me from head to toe, slowly, lazily, and then he looked back up at my face. I shivered with delight at the expression on his face—he looked ready to devour me.
Feeling bold, I brushed past him into his room. Once I heard him close his door, I turned around to face him. “Would you like to help me christen the dress before I go?” I asked, my voice not trembling.
I wanted this. I wanted him.
“I’d be more than happy to,” he said in his low voice in a tone that made me weak in the knees.
This time, he pulled my skirts up around my waist.
“Stand still,” he directed, and I was so willing to listen to him. “Hold this,” he added, handing me the skirt.
I did and closed my eyes, trembling with anticipation. What was he going to do? He’d made my first time special, lavishing me and my body with kisses and caresses, and inside, something wonderful had built and built until I couldn’t hold back anymore.
Of course I’d masturbated until I orgasmed before, but it had been so different with him, so much better, just amazing.
I opened my eyes to see Wes getting onto his knees. He ran his tongue along my pussy. It drove me wild, but when he went back and forth between ravishing my clit and stuffing his tongue inside of me, I could hardly stand it.
“It feels so…” I couldn’t even think of the words to say to describe it. I was too lost in the sensation, in the full of his mouth, his tongue, his lips.
Back and forth, he lavished me attention on my clit or along my folds or inside of me, and I could only last for so long until my body erupted with waves of pleasure. I held onto his shoulders to prevent myself from falling down.
Wearing a cocky grin, Wes stood, but there was a darkness in his eyes that hadn’t been there before. He patted me on the head like I was a child. “You are a good girl, and you tasted exceptional, but it is far past your bedtime.”
Dazed, I walked past him to the door, and he lightly spanked me.
“Oh!” I gasped. Each time he touched me, a thrill vibrated throughout my body. My body hummed when he was nearby. I reacted to his every touch, his every word.
I returned to my room, changed out of the gown, and flopped onto my bed, mostly naked. My heart swelled up. I liked him so much, I knew I did, but I wasn’t going to think about graduation yet. All I wanted to do was to enjoy the time that we had together.
The heartbreak could come later. I had to take what
I could get while I still could.
Chapter Twenty-One
Today was the day, the day of the purity ball. I felt so alive and devilish as I climbed into my father’s car, just knowing that I didn’t belong there, that I had finally taken a step to do something I wanted for once, instead of something my father would approve of. For most of my life, I had done everything he asked of me. I didn’t go against his rules often at all. But now, now I was spreading my wings and coming into my own person.
And it scared me.
But it also thrilled me.
I’d be lying if I said I was looking forward to the ball, mostly because of the three and a half hour long drive it would take to get there. Three and a half hours trapped in a car with my dad.
He glanced over at me as he buckled. I was just putting my ear buds in, but he reached over and yanked them out of my hands. “What do you think you’re doing?” he asked.
“I was going to listen to music and sleep,” I protested, reaching for my ear buds.
Dad shook his head, wearing his now ever-present scowl. “I brought along a study Bible for you. I suggest you do something productive with your time.”
So instead of being able to relax, I had to listen to a series of Mormon sermons he had on CD. It didn’t take me long to figure out their theme. Many of them discussed the duties of a woman and wife and the severity of sin.
By the time we arrived at the hotel, I was feeling fairly nauseous. Inside, I noticed a lot of fathers and other girls, many of them much younger than I was. The entire car ride, I had thought back on my childhood and what kind of a man my father was. For so long, I had been provided with whatever I needed—clothes, food, love, purpose, and a nice home—but I had been blind to what was really going on.
Yvonne’s jabs were suddenly so obvious. She had always been snippy and cruel. At first I had thought she just had a strange sense of twisted humor, but that wasn’t the case. She was just plain mean.
And Mom. Poor Mom. Her post-partum depression was staring me in the face, and it was impossible for me to help her. She needed her daughter, her baby girl. How could my father have thought it was right to take a daughter away from her mother and give the daughter to another mother who was a sister wife of the first? It was so twisted and sick, and it infuriated me every time I thought about it.
Dad…how could I have been so blind? I just accepted him and his actions and his demands over the years without ever questioning him. I liked to think I would’ve come to this realization without Wes because it was too depressing to contemplate my willingness to let him dictate my life, which would’ve happened had I not seen him for who he really was. And who was he? A man, no, a sinner, with a controlling, manipulative nature. He had a deep-seated desire to keep his family perfectly in line, just how he pictured us to be. And he had an inability to deal with losing his control, which was why he felt the need to take me to this purity ball. Like he could force me back into his brainwashing. Like he could control my thoughts and actions.
But he couldn’t and he wouldn’t. Not anymore.
Seeing some of the daughters smiling up at their fathers made my stomach churn. “I’ll go get changed now.”
Dad nodded without even looking at me.
I rushed to the bathroom and went into the stall. Luckily, I didn’t get sick, but my nerves were getting the better of me. Once I was sure I wouldn’t vomit, I left the stall and washed me hands and face. Staring at myself in the mirror, I hardly recognized the girl staring back at me. My life was so screwed up, especially my family life. Every aspect of it.
I almost fell victim to tears. Almost. My eyes were burning, and I blinked several times. The memories of my night with Wes—my nights with him—came to me, and I smiled.
I could handle anything.
Chapter Twenty-Two
The ballroom was massive and opulent, a clear sign of wealth from whichever sect organized it. It was beautifully decorated but not overdone, and the gowns of the other girls were just as nice. All in all, I might not have been having a bad time at all.
If I wasn’t here with my dad.
If I was here with Wes.
Or even if I was here alone.
Dad was breathing down my neck the entire time. His arm was through mine, and he forced me to walk around as we mingled and dined. The dancing was even more awkward and made me wish for Wes all the more—which was so against everything this ball stood for. Being surrounded by all these fathers and daughters made me feel trapped. How many of the other girls were forced to come here like I had been?
Probably most of them, if not all of them.
I followed Dad’s lead as we danced, and thankfully he didn’t talk to me much. I’d had dance lessons when I was younger. Dad never gave me a chance about it, although that I hadn’t minded. I loved twirling around. I found myself wondering if Wes knew how to dance.
The song ended, and Dad cleared his throat. “That’s enough dancing for now.”
He directed me away from the ballroom floor, and we returned to mingling some more. Dad ran into some of his friends, and I had a bad feeling from the way they were looking at me.
Dad nudged me in the back. “Go ahead and introduce yourself to my old church friends.”
I felt cold dread, and mouth grew dry as I faked pleasantries. “Hi. It’s nice to meet you all. I’m April Morrison. How are you all?”
They nodded and smiled, and introduced themselves back, but I didn’t pay enough attention to recall their names. Dad and they began to discuss the church, and I tuned out until the conversation turned to their families. Dad was talking about Yvonne and Penelope, and I wanted to slap him.
“My second wife is pregnant,” a tall man said.
“My third just gave birth two months ago,” a bald man said.
“That’s nothing,” a stocky man cut in. “My first and fourth wives are both pregnant. Now that’s a blessing and a curse.”
They all roared with laughter.
Poly families, the lot of them. I had nothing to add, so I kept quiet. Where were these men’s daughters? Maybe I could sneak off .
Dad caught my eye and shook his head. Great. Now he was a mind reader.
Inevitably, the conversation turned to my prospects.
“I must confess,” Dad said, “that I’m concerned for April’s future.”
Paralyzed, a fake smile frozen on my face, I was horrorstruck. How could he say that? How could he even think that?
The bald man eyed me. “I could use some more help around the house.”
The stocky man nodded. “I definitely could too. With two of my wives dealing with morning sickness, the house is a little neglected unfortunately.”
Dad just laughed. “Maybe April and I should stay a few days longer so all of us can catch up.”
On the verge of a panic attack, flight or fight kicked back in, and I excused myself to the restroom. Before Dad could stop me, I rushed off. Instead, I found a quiet corner, which wasn’t easy to locate considering how many people were here and the music and the dancing and talking. I removed my phone from my purse and called Wes. I was practically hyperventilating as I told him what happened.
“He’s worried about your future?” Wes fumed. “Of course he is. He hates that you’re thinking for yourself, that you aren’t blindly listening to him. He hates that you have the confidence to spread your wings and do your own thing. Damn it. It’s better to have a dad who isn’t even in the picture than to have one like him. I’m sorry, April. The house has been quiet without you.”
His outrage made me feel a little better, and his last few words warm me enough that I can pull myself together.
“Thanks, Wes. I—” I spotted Walter looking around, most likely for me. I sighed. “Got to go. Can you do me a favor? Can you tell my mom about all of this?”
“No problem.”
I hung up, put my cell away, took a deep breath, and returned to my dad’s side. “I’m sorry for feeling ill.”
&nb
sp; Dad looked down on me, and I could tell he didn’t think much of my speech. “You need to hurry. The ceremony is about to begin.”
We took our seats, and I tried so hard to space out during it, too sickened by the religious control the many fathers were placing on their daughters. Some of the girls here had to be as young as eight or nine!
All in all, it was terrible. Using the memories of Wes kept me from breaking down. It was the only thing that got me through it.
