by Pamela Prim
Every word he said struck her hard and left her desperate for more. Emily gasped and reached up, running a hand across the back of his head and drawing him down against her so they could kiss once more. She was greedy for his lips, and he indulged her. But lips weren't the only thing Henry was hungry for. His free hand met the exposed skin of her thigh and began to slide upward. The flat of his palm felt cool against her heated body, and soon Emily could not continue the kiss at all for how the sensation of it made her squirm and twist.
"Henry," she breathed, lightheaded. The hand continued up until it reached the arch of her panties, and then his fingers followed the seam of the leg downward and inward.
"What is it, little girl?" he asked her, voice gritty and playful. Emily made desperate little gasps. Henry's broad fingers traced inward and over the fabric covering her crotch. Then they dipped down further, putting just enough pressure so he could trace his finger between the valley of her lips. As the cotton met her sex, Emily could feel how drenched she had become. Slick fluids had soaked into the garment and coated her skin. At first it had been all her own doing, but she knew Henry had coaxed some of it from her with his words and his kiss. Her body needed him.
"Oh my god," Emily breathed. He hadn't even undressed her yet, and she felt like she would cum.
"Do you feel that, baby?" he asked. "That's what a naughty girl feels like. I'm going to have to punish you."
The fingers pushed a little harder, and the fabric gave way to let them press firmly against her skin. Henry let them trail up, and those same digits ran over her clit. Had her parents not been asleep just down the hall, Emily would have cried out. The touch was electric, and throbbing pleasure coursed through her like ripples across a pond. Henry was too good to be real.
"But in order to stop your impure thoughts," he continued, "we're going to have to make sure that you use them all up. If we let them linger in that beautiful mind of yours, they'll only fester and grow. So we'll work them out of your system so they don't get any worse. Tell me — what are you thinking about right now?"
Saying the things she'd been feeling for so long felt wrong in the best of ways. Henry's fingers kept stroking, tracing short trails back and forth over her panties and across her clit. Emily could not escape the pleasure, and she writhed and pressed herself down against him like the slut he was turning her into. A silence bubbled between them, then burst.
"I'm thinking about how wrong it is that I'm letting a man so much older than me defile my body," she whispered. "About how many attractive guys my age I could sleep with, but how I'm giving myself to someone so older. What everyone would think if they knew what disgusting things you were doing to me. How many more men will want me because they know I'm not above sleeping with someone older?"
A low rumble rolled from the back of his throat, burdened with desire. Henry yanked at her hair, and Emily had to hold back a cry. The pain felt fantastic.
"It looks like I've got a lot of work to do," he said. "It's about time I got to it."
The hand that had been playing with her stopped in its travels and hooked into the cotton instead. With a firm yank Henry brought her panties down so that they stretched between her knees.
"Take them off the rest of the way, naughty girl," he whispered to her, "and let me punish you like you deserve to be punished. Let me work those impure thoughts out of your mind."
There was no choice but to obey. Emily squirmed beneath him, working her panties down her legs and to her ankles, where she stepped out of them. And as she did so, Henry took the time to undress above her. The shirt he wore crumpled on the ground, its material audibly pooling. A sharp zip signified the descent of his fly, and the mattress shook and groaned as he shifted his weight from one leg to another to remove them. The process was repeated for the underwear that lay beneath — Emily couldn't make out what kind it was. And when he was done, he took hold of her tiny nightie and lifted it up, across her stomach and chest until her breasts were bare, and then over her shoulders. Emily moved with him to ease the process, and the cold rush on her humid skin was worth it. Naked, she knew Henry's body was about to be hers. If only she could see the treasure he had for her between his legs.
That was a gift she was going to have to discover on her own.
With her body bare, Henry's hands moved up and over her stomach to her untouched breasts. Large, calloused hands gripped her firmly, and his broad thumbs brushed her nipples. All Emily could do was gasp, the sound timid and hushed. No one else in the house could know what they were doing.
"Still little," he murmured, teasing her hardened nubs while she squirmed beneath him. "But just grown up enough."
Gradually, each of his knees found its way between her thighs. The act felt so natural that Emily hardly felt it, and when it was done, the transition had been seamless. One moment Henry's body was suspended over hers, and the next their bodies were flush. Henry's thick flesh slid between her wet lips, coating his shaft with her secretions. Emily had never felt a cock before, and it felt far too big to be able to fit inside of her. Was this what all of them felt like, or was Henry huge? She had no idea how to tell.
"I'm going to work all those naughty thoughts out of your head," Henry whispered to her, his hips starting to thrust as he worked his cock across her body, flirting with her entrance. Each movement brushed his shaft flush with her clit, and Emily clenched her jaw to avoid moaning in pleasure. This had to be quiet and discrete, but somehow it made it even better.
Emily did not reply with words. Instead, she lifted her hips to invite him inside, and as she changed the angle, the head of his cock caught on the rim of her entrance and then, with a firm thrust, Henry was inside of her.
Had she not been so wet and prepared, there was no doubt penetration would have hurt. Instead, it was nothing but bliss. Henry forced her open, filled her with his cock, and plunged deep without remorse. Virgin or not, he did not show her any sympathy. Emily had to clamp a hand over her mouth to keep from crying out — he was huge, and he felt amazing.
"How does it feel to finally take a man?" he asked between gritted teeth. A firm buck of his hips bottomed him out inside of her, and Emily groaned against her hand as she got used to the feeling. The bulbous tip of Henry's cock prodded a part of her she'd never felt before, something solid and shockingly arousing. Henry did not keep himself there for long — in moments he'd drawn back out only to thrust with increased passion. The impact hit her hard, and Emily choked back a gasp. It was all she could muster in response.
"Such a bad, dirty girl," he breathed. Again and again his hips bucked into her, breeding her. Neither of them had bothered with protection, but it only made it hotter. Emily wanted his raw cock, wanted to know that her father's friend was fucking her hard and unprotected. The thought that his cum would drip from freshly used hole spurred her on further. From pure and untouched to filthy and used. Henry was making her into a slut, his slut, and it only made her hotter.
"I'm so bad," she whispered back, voice hitched with pleasure. "Fuck it out to me. Fuck all this dirtiness out of me!"
Henry's hands left her breasts and pinned her arms above her head. The speed with which he rocked his hips increased, and he struck time and time again against that spot inside of her. The force of their bodies meeting stimulated her clit, and Emily grinded down against him, maximizing whatever pleasure she could. The wet sounds of their bodies joining and parting had filled the room, their gasps and grunts of pleasure hushed. Orgasm was close, and Emily knew when she came, she was going to cum hard. Henry was her fantasy, and her body had already been pushed to its limits even before he'd entered the room. There was no way she could hold on.
"Henry," she whimpered. "Henry, all of those thoughts... All of those thoughts are working their way out of me. I can feel it. I can feel it welling in my gut."
And she could. The rush of heat through her groin was weighing her down and making everything feel that much more intense. Just a few more thrusts, just a few
more, and...
"Work them out, little girl," Henry rasped. "Get them all out. Cum them out for me and tighten around my old cock. I want to feel you work every single one of them out."
Emily's lips parted, but the cry that followed was silent. The first wave of orgasm hit, and her sex tightened and shuddered around the length of his cock.
"One," he uttered.
Another ripple ran through her as pleasure peaked and released, and her sex clamped down around him again.
"Two," he whispered. "Get them all out, little girl. I want all of those thoughts out of your head."
Again and again her pleasure peaked and her body tightened in response. Emily's fingers dug into the sheets as her body wracked itself with pleasure, and for each time she tightened, Henry counted out loud.
"Seven," he rumbled, and as he did, Emily felt a different kind of pulse. It took a long moment for her to realize that it was not her body that made it, but his. Henry's cock was spilling its thick, warm cum into her womb and breeding her like the little whore she was.
"Oh my god," Emily gasped. The words were so quiet they might as well not have been uttered at all. "You're cumming, you're..."
"Punishment," he said at last. "Bad girls like you have to risk the possibility that their actions will have consequences that last forever. Everyone might get to find out just how dirty you really are when your womb swells up with the load I just gave you. Everyone will see that you've given in to sin. That you let a man have you and you didn't care enough to protect your own body against his seed."
Each word struck with latent potency, and Emily's lips rounded in a silent cry. A fresh surge of pleasure consumed her, and a wave stronger than the others squeezed itself around Henry's thick shaft.
"Eight." He was breathless. "That's my good girl. Everything's out now. Now the healing can begin."
As his erection flagged, Henry drew free of her with a slow, deliberate movement. One moment she was filled completed for the first time in her life, and the next she was alone and empty. Emily exhaled steadily, coming down from the high. The loneliness was terrible, but knowing why it was she felt so empty was invigorating like nothing else.
"And how do I go about healing," she murmured, tossing the idea out casually, "if I still harbor those thoughts inside of me, even after what you've done?"
Henry settled down on the mattress beside her and ran a hand along her side. The touch had lost some of its magic, but faint arousal twisted inside of her, promising that before long, she'd be hungry for more.
"If we didn't get the idea by its roots," he said, "then we'll have to keep digging and pulling them free until nothing is left. There's no other solution."
The words were exactly those she'd been eager to hear. Emily grinned into the darkness, shifting on the bed to cuddle up against the much older man beside her. It was her turn to run her hand down him, tracing from his chest down to his stomach until her fingertips left him just before the groin. There was no way a touch like that was innocent.
"I see."
The room, once cool, was now hot with both of their bodies. The scent of their sex hung on the air, and she knew it would cling to her sheets and in her pillows for days to come.
"I guess you're going to have to stay here a while longer, then," Emily said after a short, reflective pause. "These thoughts have been building and festering for a long time, and one little extraction is never going to be enough to get rid of them for good."
Henry scoffed, the sound muted for the sake of their privacy.
"You really are a bad little girl, aren't you?" he asked. "Perhaps, even after I've worked this sin out of you, I'll have to come back from time to time to make sure that it stays gone. I don't feel like you can be trusted."
Emily's grin grew, and she draped her arm over his side as she drew herself closer. Only moments ago they'd parted, but the slickness between her legs and the new heat growing low inside of her made her feel like she could go again. Henry's recovery would take a little more time, but as soon as he was ready...
"I think we can arrange for that," she cooed. "My father is quite fond of you, you know. And even should he not be in the spirit to entertain a guest, I'm sure he would be thrilled if his little girl visited his best friend from time to time for some private tutelage."
A loud snore from down the hall broke through their quiet conversation, and both of them paused to revel in it. They'd gotten away with it. They were golden.
"Clever, dirty little girl," Henry praised her. "I'll have you as often as you want."
And Emily knew she was going to want him very, very often.
Story 20
Shelly was always a dreamer, but over the past few years, she had become a bit of an outcast. While she owned a successful ranch on the outskirts of her western town, left to her by her deceased parents, every other aspect of her life seemed to be extremely lacking. She never married and worked on the ranch herself, unless it was absolutely necessary to hire an extra hand.
Shelly was a beautiful girl and never had a shortage of potential suitors. Yet, every time that anyone would show an interest in her, whether he was a stable boy or another ranch owner, she would send them away. She never accepted a date from anyone. Instead, she would fill the hours when she was not working on the ranch with reading.
Shelly read books by the hundreds, dreaming of lives that she knew she could never have. For, as successful as she was and as well off as her parents had made her, her life was boring. Every day, she would get up and do the same thing over and over again, without any change in pace.
She loved her ranch and her animals dearly, because they were the only thing she had left of her parents. They had instilled the prospect of hard work and a love of the ranch in her, but that was all she had left of them. Her father died of a heart attack on her sixteenth birthday and her mother barely made it a month longer. The doctor was certain that her mother died of a broken heart; having loved her father dearly.
The pain of losing them was hard enough and when it came time for her to choose a suitor, she couldn’t bear the thought of falling into the same trap as her mother had. She loved her parents. When they were alive, she would have done anything for them. She knew that they loved her and there was never even a moment where she felt slighted by her childhood. However, watching her mother die, so soon after father, because of her father, was not something that she wanted. She could not bear the thought of losing her own life, simply because the bonds between her and a man were too great.
Her parents had loved one another for many years. Their bond, forged from many years together, seemed to be infinite. Before Shelly found out about the dark side of love, what it could do to one’s body and mind, she reveled in her parent’s love. She hoped that one day, she would be able to find a man who would give her what her mother told her constantly that her father had given her. She wanted the love, the companionship and the never-ending essence that came with being husband and wife. She wanted it all and she was sure that no matter what, she was going to get it. After all, she was beautiful and everyone in town complimented her on how loving and social she was.
In fact, Shelly grew up with suitors practically waiting outside of her door for the moment that she was ready and able to start courting.
Plus, it also didn’t hurt that Shelly’s family was wealthy. Any man who won her hand in marriage would not only get one of the only eligible women in the town, he would also get an estate that was worth more than most could fathom.
Everything was going well then, but one day though, right there at the dinner table, after celebrating her birthday with her family, Shelly’s father died. Even though she was mortally unaffected by his passing, she was sure that a part of herself passed on as well.She knew in her heart that the vigor for the life her parents wanted for her had died with them.
She was so close to them and they were taken so quickly and in such succession, that she wondered what her life was really good for. Now, she had
more money than she knew what to do with, but pushed everyone away because she couldn’t stand the heartache of losing more of what all the money in the world could not buy back.
With the passing of her parents and the realization that her life could change in a moment and she would never see it coming, she was broken. Her spirit was crushed and her will to lead a life like her parents had been forever destroyed.
Yet, she yearned for a different life, beyond gates of the ranch, which kept her bound to it as though it was an impenetrable fortress. It wasn’t a guard or dragon keeping her imprisoned, but rather the animals on the ranch and the legacy of her parents, coupled by the knowledge that she had nowhere to go, that kept her bound. Anywhere else, even with the funds to get her there, would be a worthless endeavor.
Therefore, she sat in her room and read stories about the adventures she knew she would only be able to imagine by candlelight and the flip of a page.
