Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyrighted 2007 with all rights expressly reserved by its author unless explicitly granted.
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A
few days after Brandi told me about her stepfather, I got to thinking about
what she said about him bringing women over when she was home, and offering her
to them. I also realized that if he was
doing her as often as she said, that he was probably carrying the same STD she
had when she moved in with me. Not only
that, but her mother probably had it too.
I thought about what I might do.
Doing nothing really wasn't an option.
I
called one evening and a woman answered.
I wasn't sure, but I presumed it was Wanda, Brandi's mother.
"May
I speak to Buck?"
"Just
a minute... Buck! Telephone!"
"This
is Buck."
"Buck,
this Hank Thornton."
"Oh,
yeah. How're doin', Hank?"
"Fine. Listen, Brandi told me all about you and
her." Silence. "She being a minor and all that, you
know you could get in a lot of trouble... Don't worry, I'm not going to report
you. As a matter of fact, I'm going to
compliment you for training her so well. As you well know, that girl's a hot
fuck.
"But
that's not why I'm calling," I continued.
"I called to let you know that when Brandi moved in a few weeks
ago, she was carrying a venereal disease.
Now I could care less if your dick fell off, pal, but anybody you've had
sex with needs to know about it. That
includes Brandi's mother. Usually there
are no outward symptoms. That is, not
until some real damage is done. So,
adult to adult, I'll leave it up to you to tell your wife and your
girlfriends."
"Uh,
thanks. Is, uh, Brandi there? I'd sure
like to see her and tell her..."
"I
don't think so. She's mine now. You stay away from her." Having fulfilled my duty as a responsible citizen, I hung up.
Did
I mention that she liked to suck cock?
I mean, that girl really enjoyed the act of fellatio. Not that I'm complaining
mind you, but she had an oral obsession with my penis that was bordering on
unhealthy.
I
came home late one morning because I had forgotten a work folder with some
important papers. Brandi wouldn't allow
me to leave until... What was I to do?
There she was, as naked as I had left her this morning, following House
Rules like the good girl she was, kneeling before me with a death grip on my
belt. I relented and she unbuckled the
belt. A moment later my zipper went
down and soon thereafter my pants and shorts were down around my ankles. Cradling my balls in her hands she leaned
forward to plant a series of sloppy open mouth kisses on the head of my
pecker. That certainly got my interest
and my waking soldier began to come to attention. After a few slow licks up and down the extending swelling shaft
she had me where she wanted me, with a full erection.
Then
she did what she had often done.
Looking up at me with those beautiful sparkling green eyes she placed
her hands behind her back and then took me into her mouth.
That
has to be one of the most erotic sights for a man, having a naked girl, a very
pretty naked girl, at his feet, looking up at him while she sucks his
cock. But what really put the icing on
the cake were the hands, the hands placed behind her back, mimicking being
bound; the helpless slave servicing her master.
Later
that evening and after thinking about all day, I asked her about it.
"You
don't like for me to do that?" she said with a distressed look.
"Oh
god, yes! I love it! What man wouldn't! But, how... Did, uh, did Buck teach you that?" She nodded and cast her eyes away. "I see..."
"No,
I don't think you do," she replied softly.
"You
want to tell me about it?"
"No..." It took a while but I eventually got her to
tell me.
With her eyes cast down like she was ashamed, Brandi began. "One
Saturday, while Mama was at work, Buck brought a few of his buddies home. Must've been five of them. Buck stripped me and tied my hands behind my
back and told me to kneel. Then he
said, "Who's first?" A big
ugly guy stepped forward and shoved a wad of bills into Buck's outstretched hand. Grinning like the Cheshire Cat, the man dropped his pants. I remember that I was shocked; I didn't know that men got that big. One by one I sucked off his
"friends", friends who, on the spot paid Buck to use me.
"After
each of them had his blowjob, the first man stepped up again. This time he was naked. Mumbling something unintelligbly, he bent me forward, pushing my face into the
floor. Then with my hands still tied
behind my back, he rammed his huge cock into me from behind."
"Did
they all take you?" She
nodded. "And this hurt you?"
"No,
not at all! That's just it. I came and I came. I was being raped and I loved it! This went on for several Saturdays in a row until Buck had all
his gambling debts paid off. I don't know how many different men Buck brought over, but every time, that big ugly bastard showed up. He was kinda mean, but he never really ever hurt me. Then it
was back to normal, with just Buck doing me on Saturdays while mama was
working. Buck loved the way I looked, on
my knees blowing him with my hands behind my back. Eventually, he stopped tying me up and just told me to keep my
hands behind my back while I sucked him."
Rising from the bed, I retrieved the cloth belt from a
terry bathrobe. Without me saying
anything, Brandi got up, turned away from me and put her hands behind her
back. I tied her, turned her around and
pushed her to her knees. With a wild
look in her eyes, she orally attacked my stiff prick. She was getting off on this and in a big way. For me, I gained a whole new appreciation
for Buck and what he had done with her.
I knew she loved having me cum in her mouth, but I didn't
give her the pleasure. Pulling my dick
away from her, I then pushed her to the floor and roughly took her anally. That little game became a part of our
repertoire, but we didn't do it too often.
I prefer making love over rape, but under the right circumstances a
little faux rape was good fun for us both.
During
one of our many conversations, I lamented to Brandi that I didn't know my
neighbors anymore. Many good friends
had come and gone, and after Jenny died, I really lost track of everyone. Oh, I still knew a few of the old timers,
but there were many more new families that I didn't know even their names.
That
year the Fourth of July fell on a Wednesday and not many people were planning
out of town trips for the holiday.
Brandi came up with the big idea of inviting all the neighbors over for
a backyard cookout and celebration. I
wasn't all that keen on it, but she somehow got me to say yes. Actually she told me that if I said yes,
that she would get Allison over for some fun. Of course I said yes! What I didn't know was that Allison had the
following day off and they had already planned a nightlong screwfest, so Brandi
pulled a fast one over me.
Nevertheless,
a deal is a deal. Brandi cranked out
invitations on the computer inviting everyone over for beer, margaritas,
hamburgers, hot dogs and bar‑be‑que. Little kids and big kids were also invited and everyone was
encouraged to dress causally and enjoy the cool of my swimming pool. Brandi did an excellent job with the invites,
including a request to R.S.V.P., so that I could have an idea as to how much
food and drink to buy.
She
also did an excellent job of figuring out how many cases of beer, buckets of
frozen Margarita mix, hamburger patties, buns, hot dogs and pounds of brisket
and pulled pork that we would need, as well as how many ears of corn needed to
be roasted, cans of beans, paper plates and whatever else was required. Like I said, she wasn't a dummy. When all was said and done, we probably
should have gotten some grape flavored soft drinks, but that's all we lacked
and there was very little food that got pitched out as well.
As
I expected, I hardly knew anyone at my own party. Mostly they were young couples in their early thirties with
their children. At least I recognized
some of the faces, even if didn't have clue as to their names. As for the old timers, to my disappointment
they mostly stayed away. Ben Johnson
and his prickly wife, Suzanne, did make it.
I
was talking to Ben, renewing our acquaintance. Ben, pointing his beer towards
Brandi pointedly asked, "What's it like screwing a girl young enough to be your
daughter?"
"Who
says I'm screwing her?"
"Oh,
come now, Hank. Everybody knows."
"Knows
what?" I said irritated.
"She's a family friend for Christ's sake. Her parents moved away and she's staying here until school
starts. I'm just helping out."
"Helping
her out and helping yourself to her too?" he said with laugh. "Hey, I don't blame you, but you must
know what the scuttlebutt around here is."
"What
scuttlebutt?"
"You
and her. Rita, you know Rita? Well, Lula works for Rita too,
remember? Rita told Suzanne that Lula
said that you were keeping a girl nude and tied up."
"What?"
"Yeah,
that's what I heard. I haven't a clue
as to what Lula actually said to Rita, but that's the gist of the story going around. From what I've heard, you're supposed to be
some sort of perverted bondage freak.
Is it true? Do you have mirrors
over your bed? You tie her up and do
her?"
"No! Oh, for Christ's sakes! Lula came in one day when Brandi was getting
out the shower! That's all there is to
it! I wasn't even home." I made a mental note to tell
Lula to keep her mouth shut if she still wanted a job.
"Bet
it'd be fun to tie her up."
"I
don't tie her up."
"That's
not what I hear."
"Oh,
for Christ's sake!"
"You
just fuck her?"
"Ben,
she's a family friend."
"And
some guys screw their own daughters."
He took a sip from his can and pointed to Allison who was next to Brandi
sitting on the steps in about a foot of water.
"Who's the darkie?"
"What?"
"The
darkie. The one with the big tits. Yellow bikini."
"She's
Cuban!" I said icily to the boor.
"Okay. Who is she?"
"Allison. She's Brandi's best friend."
"Man,
what I'd give to have a toss with her!
Damn, you're a lucky man, Hank.
A lucky man indeed."
I
excused myself wishing that he and Suzanne had stayed home. I knew full well that the only reason they
were here was that Suzanne wanted to see for herself the girl that I kept as a
sex slave, then report her impressions to the other neighborhood hens. What with those half‑baked rumors
floating around, it's no wonder that I had been deemed a lecherous pariah by
decent society. It was half true, okay, more than half, but
fuck'em!
Other
than my unpleasant re‑acquaintance with Ben Johnson, I found the party to
be enjoyable. The new neighbors were
all nice and I finally had names to go with the faces and/or bodies. It was fun having a bunch of kids and rug
rats running around being kids. As much
as I was ready for Jeff to leave the nest, I missed those earlier days when all
was perfect. The young moms and dads
reminded me of Jenny and myself ten, fifteen years earlier, except that most of
those moms and dads had tattoos and the guys sported earrings and wore their
billed caps backwards like some high school punk.
Typical
was Paul and Ginger Dawson. They had
moved next door a few months before Jenny was killed. Being my immediate next‑door neighbors, I had introduced
myself and at least knew their first names, but we had never socialized in any
manner. Paul was handsome guy, early
thirties. Talking with him I discovered
that he was a junior partner of a locally well‑known law firm and his
wife was a pediatric nurse. Their two
kids, a girl about four and a boy aged two, were cute as could be.
I
found them both to be enjoyable to talk with, especially since Ginger is a good‑looking
babe, with short auburn hair and a nice body. She had a tattoo on the small of
her back and he had an elaborate band tattooed around his left bicep. Made me
wonder if my lawyer had tats hidden under his button‑down shirt.
Everyone
got a pleasant buzz and had a good time.
I even made an attempt to talk with Ben's wife, Suzanne. Not surprisingly, I found her cold as ice. She'd have plenty to share with the other
old hen's as Brandi and Allison both displayed a bit more affection than my
cover story allowed. I don't think anyone else paid any attention, but Suzanne
did.
Around
six the party began breaking up as families headed out for the fireworks
display at Lake Rockford. I was glad to
see everyone go, as I had some personal business to attend to, namely get naked
and carnally carouse with Brandi and Allison.
Standing
in shallow water, the girls decided to have a blowjob contest. Brandi won hands down as she could deep
throat me with ease. Allison on the
other hand, gagged repeatedly. Allison
sucked a good noodle, that's for sure, but Brandi clearly had the best
technique. I told Allison not to
despair. Magnanimously I offered to
teach her the art of deep throating.
We
retired to my bedroom where I had her lie on the bed with her head hanging off
the side with her long dark silky hair touching the floor. Straddling her head, I paused for a moment
to give her an opportunity to study my low hanging balls and vein covered
jutting penis. Meanwhile I took the
opportunity to study once more the sumptuous girl who was so freely giving
herself to me.
I
leaned over the bed bracing myself and squatted slightly to align my dick with
her mouth. Pressing my glans to her
lips, she opened up. I took it easy,
pushing in a little at a time to gauge her level of comfort or discomfort. As I pushed in deeper and deeper, Allison
was starting to have some problems; she was squirming and gripping the covers
with her hands. Brandi was there to
coach her, telling her to relax, swallow, and to breathe through her nose. I felt her gag a few times as I triggered
her gag reflex, then sensing her swallow, I drove my dick down her
throat.
She
sort of moaned in surprise and then swallowed again.
Her throat contracted around my cock again and again.
Leaving it stationary, I luxuriated in the feel of her virgin throat squeezing my
dick every time she swallowed. I pulled
out slightly to let her breathe easily and then pushed back in. After several minutes of this I began the
old in-and-out, deep fucking her mouth like it was her pussy, only this pussy
had a tongue and real teeth. The only
draw back was that her tongue was on top of my dick and not on the underside
where it could do the most good. I also
knew that after a few sessions like this, she would be able to kneel and align
her throat properly. That way her
tongue would properly be on the underside of my dick.
I
pulled my cock from her throat and pushed back in. She gagged. I did it
again and she gagged. After the fifth
or sixth time, she was desensitized enough that she could control her gag
reflex. Soon I was sliding in and out
of her throat with ease. I pulled my
dick completely from her mouth and helped her get up.
"Get
on your knees."
Allison
complied, playing with my dick.
"Open
up."
She
opened up and I pushed my dick into her mouth.
Hitting the back of her throat she gagged.
"Shallow."
She
swallowed, but nothing happened.
Instead, she choked. We tried
again, but she couldn't do it, so I put her back on my bed with her head
hanging the edge. This time, when my
cock hit the back of her throat, she swallowed and my dick went down her throat
lickity split. We did that few times,
and then tried it from the kneeling position.
We tried again, but she choked.
Brandi now intervened and using her hands guided Allison to extend her
neck. Bingo! I was down deep.
The
next weekend, Brandi wanted to go back to The Bloody Dragon. I cut her a deal, that if she went to the
Wagon Wheel with me, I'd take her to the rock joint. Gamely I offered to teach her a sprite two‑step if she'd
teach me how freak dance.
She
looked so wholesome in her new western outfit with a jaunty straw hat trimmed
with pink and her Tony Llama boots. I
looked the part too, with a gray Stetson and with my old ostrich skin boots, I
really looked like something out of Texas.
We had a lot of fun at the Wagon Wheel.
Brandi was surprised at how many young people were at the boot‑n‑scoot,
and was genuinely surprised that the place wasn't filled with geezers doing a
square dance.
When
it came time to do The Bloody Dragon the next night, I was prepared with a
black Harley‑Davidson t‑shirt and a temporary, wash off, iron cross
tattoo on my right bicep. I didn't
exactly fit in, but I gave it my best.
Several young ladies danced with me.
Only one took exception to my wandering hands. Thankfully, we didn't see
Rex and Roxie there.
A
week or so later, in the middle of the week, Brandi wanted to go to an outdoor
rock concert. Despite the heat, I said
'yes' (reluctantly ) and we went. There
were a half a dozen or more bands on the billing, with names like Mother's
Milk, Satanic Spawn and Purulent Interest, and others that I'd never heard
of. The outdoor arena was crowded with
shirtless boys in baggy shorts wearing backward facing caps and girls in skimpy
costumes or short skirts. Some of the
girls just had a string bikini top and shorts that made Allison's work shorts
look baggy. Some (boys and girls) wore sandals, and others had flip‑flops,
but most were simply barefoot. I had to
wonder if these girl's parents knew how they were dressed.
There
was no seating per se, just a series of grass‑covered terraces facing the
stage area in an amphitheater arrangement.
We found a good spot and staked our claim. All around us an amorphous sea of bodies ebbed and flowed, little
groups formed, hung out for a moment before moving on to some other spot.
Considering
the age of the crowd, I was surprised to see several young men, working the
crowd, hawking beer. I signaled one
over and bought two beers, one for me and one for Brandi. The guy didn't even blink as he handed
Brandi a beer even though she was clearly underage. The cops were few and far between and blithely ignored the
obvious underage drinking, as well as the pot smoking.
We
had a few beers in the sweltering heat.
I was glad that I wore cargo shorts and had a cap, but the black Harley
t‑shirt was bit too hot.
"Oh, take off your shirt," advised Brandi. "It's hot and you look good." Soon I looked like most of the other guys,
except for the stray gray chest hair, lack of boyish looks and the bill of my
cap actually shaded my eyes as God intended.
The
sun mercifully began to fade and soon the warm‑up band took to the
stage. These guys were actually pretty
good, but for the most part they were ignored, at least at first. Soon, the bumping and grinding began and the
amorphous flow of bodies more or less congealed where they stood.
The
second band took the stage and the kids went nuts. As they played, I didn't think they were worth a damn, but my
opinion counted for little. A big shirtless
kid next to me was getting risqué with the fourteen‑year‑old he was
with. I guessed that she was fourteen,
fifteen at the most, slim, small boobs, braces and not much of a waist. She was barefoot and wore low‑slung
denim shorts with holes that showed a lot of skin. Her tee was white and thin, cutoff at the midriff with the ends
shredded into thin strips. The guy's
hands were all over her and caused her to spill her beer onto her t‑shirt. For all practical purposes, the t‑shirt
became nearly invisible.
Immediately
in front of us, guys and gals lewdly ground into each other. Behind were more kids faux‑fornicating with their clothes
on. It was the same scene as The Bloody
Dragon, except it was outdoors and the kids were even more risqué than at the
club.
By
the time the third band cranked up, a circle had formed to my right and a girl
danced with two guys. She was probably
eighteen or nineteen, a big‑tit girl wearing a tiny bikini top and
Daisey Mae shorts. The kid on my left had the
young girl bent over, her t-shirt bunched up around her shoulders. He was dry humping her ass.
I heard a cheer from the group at my right. Looking over I saw the girl in the center of the circle had lost her top. One of the guys she was dancing with spun the stray bikini top around over his head. She shimmied down and the circle erupted, hooting, "Suck it! Suck it!" The topless girl was indeed down at a guy's crotch. It wasn't until she stood up a moment later that I saw that the guy's stiff cock was jutting out of his shorts. Damn! She really did blow him! In public! The second guy rotated around, lewdly dancing and I saw that his cock was also sticking through his fly.
"Suck it! Suck it! Suck
it!" the circle chanted as she shimmied down. This time I could plainly she that she had the second guy's cock
in her mouth. Another girl joined in
the center of the circle with a third guy.
Moments later he was helping her pull her t‑shirt off.
I
looked around. No one was particularly
paying attention to what was going on in the circle except me, but I did notice
that the circle had become a little larger.
Being a cool gramps‑fossil‑fart, I
had my hands up under Brandi's halter‑top while I humped her butt. I looked over to my
left. The shirtless kid with the young
girl was watching me. The kid gave me a
toothy grin and flashed his girl's tits.
I returned the favor.
My
attention was drawn to the right again.
In the circle, the second girl was blowing her guy while the crowd
cheered her on.
Brandi
nudged me, directing my attention to the couple in front of us. He was facing us with his girl at his
back. She was fishing his cock from his
shorts. The guy turned around facing
away while his girl went down on him.
This was turning into a group sex orgy!
I
looked to my left. The young girl was
now on her knees, sucking the big kid's cock too. 'Whatever happened to discretion,' I thought. When I was growing up my mama's admonition
of no PDA (public demonstration of affection) was the general rule. Now girls suck dick in public?
Brandi
had been squeezing my pecker and I thought to myself, 'When in Rome...' I had fought off Brandi's hands from my
zipper long enough. Ziiiiip! Suddenly my schlong was hanging out like
nearly every other guy's ramrod within eyesight.
While
Brandi was getting a mouthful, the guy to my left was dancing back‑to‑front
with his little cocksucker. They were
both watching Brandi slobbering up and down my shaft and were still watching
when my spooge gun went off in my girl's face.
While I wiped Brandi face with my t‑shirt, the guy to my left was
running his hands up and down the girl's legs.
He hooked his thumbs in her waistband and pulled her shorts down, not
all the way, but enough to expose 85% of her rump. The set ended and noise died down as a new band took to the
stage. The little girl pulled her pants up and accepted a drink from one of
their friends.
All
the bumping and grinding had come to a temporary stop. Everyone milled about innocently. All looked normal except that the air hung
heavy with the smell of pot and several girls were topless and several guys had
their cocks hanging out. Me, I tucked
mine away until the music started again.
The
music cranked back up, as bad as ever and the crowd began undulating
again. The kid to my left caught my
attention. I turned as he pulled the
little girl's shorts down again, but she grabbed them to keep them partially
on. The kid meanwhile rubbed his cock
in the portion of her butt crack that was exposed. They soon broke it off, with the girl turning to face him with
her shorts halfway down. She wasn't a
natural blonde.
Brandi
was facing me with my right leg between her legs. My leg was getting wet as she was rubbing her pussy against my
thigh. I could tell by the look on her
face that she was about to get off. I
lifted her skirt so the kid could see that she was bare‑assed under the
short skirt. I left her skirt lifted
until she was finished cumming.
The
kid grabbed his girlfriend's shorts by the legs and yanked them further down,
off her ass and to her knees. From
there gravity did the rest. The girl, gyrating to the music, didn't seem to
mind being nude from the waist down as his hands glided over every part of her
butt and between her legs. Suddenly she
leaned, or she was pushed over, grabbing me by the arm for support. The kid immediately began humping her, but
with his cock hanging out of his fly, it was obvious that this was the real
thing. She held onto my arm while the
kid did her.
Nervously
I looked around to make sure we weren't being observed. We were, but thankfully not by the cops. Visions of being arrested for contributing
to the delinquency of a minor filled my panicking brain, as well as images of a
possible charge of sexual assault of a minor.
I should have let her fall to the ground and gotten the hell out of
there, but I didn't. I held her while
the boy fucked her from behind. While
she was being screwed, one of the kid's buddies was swinging her shorts around
and then launched them off into the crowd.
The
kid went at her for the entire song and at the climatic conclusion, he
concluded too. While the band tuned up for the next piece, he rested a moment
in recovery. The next song began with a
driving beat. The kid moved away and
was immediately replaced by another guy who shoved his cock into the girl,
fucking her to the heavy beat. While
girl clung to me, I caught the first kid's attention and signaled to him that I
wanted no part of this.
He
rolled his eyes, but begrudgingly took over holding her steady while his buddy
fucked her. That guy didn't last very
long, but as soon as he was finished with her, the kid had her sucking his cock
again. She stood up. The second guy was still behind her. He pulled her to him and grasping her cut‑off
t‑shirt with both hands, ripped it in half. She clutched at her breast to try and save what was left of her
top, but was unable to prevent him from literally tearing it off her body. Soon, tattered pieces of her top were flying
through the air and into the crowd.
Except
for a beaded anklet, the young teen girl was now completely nude. Two other strapping guys joined in huddling around her. As a new piece began, I could see that one
the new guys had his hand between her legs sawing away at her cunt while she
squirmed. He pulled his hand away and
dropped his shorts. The others bent her
over to suck his dick. When she did the
fourth guy skewered her from behind.
There
were three more bands to go and for the next two sets of the concert, those
four guys took turns with her, each fucking her at least four times. She never cried for help or seemed to
protest in any way as they repeatedly used her. I was tempted to intervene, but four against one wasn't very
attractive odds. Wisely or not, I
choose to mind my own business. Besides, she seemed to be a party to it,
grabbing one of the guys by the waist to steady herself while she was repeatedly
plowed from the rear.
Meanwhile
to my right, girls were entering the circle, one at a time, stripping and
picking out guys at random to fuck.
Apparently it was the guy's choice as to who he picked from the circle
as his follow up for sloppy seconds.
All the while their friends (?) looked on and cheered.
It
was a wild, wild concert. The kids fed
off one another and things grew progressively promiscuous. It was nothing like the concerts I went to
as a kid. For some reason I wasn't
shocked when Brandi flicked her skirt up and backed her pussy onto my
cock.
The
kids sure had fun, but I can't imagine why parents would let their kids
(daughters) go to such an event. Nor
can I imagine why there are not age limits on who can get into one of these
orgies. Nevertheless, for a dirty old
man, it was interesting event, very interesting and very entertaining.
When
the last band took the stage, I noticed an older, bearded guy with a
Confederate flag do‑rag wrapped around his head. He was a rough looking
thug and he was talking to the four boys who had been taking turns shagging the
young girl to my left. The girl, naked
and streaked with mud, was kneeling by the group, held in place by one of the
boys by a handful of her hair.
One
of the boys took a plastic baggie from the thuggish man. The music started and two of the boys lifted
the girl, cradling her around her back with one hand and holding her by the
thighs with the other. They spread her
open. The older guy, dropped his grimy
jeans and rammed his large cock into the little girl. Her entire body shuddered with each punishing thrust into
her.
I
thought to intervene, but liked the odds even less with the addition of this
burly thug. I looked around to try and
get the attention of a cop, but there were none about.
While
he raped the young girl, he took great delight in pulling on her
nipples. The first song finished and he
was still pumping hard into her.
Finally, at long last, his lips curled up in a snarl. He stepped back, his now flaccid cock
slithered from her abused cunt. The
boys holding her set her down. Immediately
she was on her knees, slobbering all over the big cock that had just ravished
her. Guess it wasn't a forcible rape
after all.
The
boys picked her up again, holding her face down, so that the thug could have a
go at her from behind. The girl held up
her head and locked her eyes with mine.
Licking her lips and with an unseeing, glassy eyed stare, the thug
fucked her to the beat of the music. She wasn't distressed as far I could
tell. The older guy saw me
watching. He grinned at me as he banged
her and gave me a thumbs up. I looked
away, feigning interest in what was happening in the fucking‑circle to my
right. When I looked back, the thuggish
looking guy had disappeared, having been replaced by one of the boys.
The
last band finished the last set and the crowd quickly dissipated. Not wanting to fight the rowdy crowd, Brandi
and I hung around. The four boys with
the young girl, disappeared leaving her naked and stranded, their collective
cum coating both legs all the way to her feet.
She stood about, grimy with mud splattered over her, hopelessly at a
loss as to what to do as people streamed past, some laughing at her, some
grabbing at her for kicks. She had "SLUT BABY" written with mud on
her stomach. On her back, they had
written, "FREE FUCK". I took
sympathy on her and pulled my t‑shirt from the back of my shorts and
covered her.
"Thanks.
Thanks, Mister," she mumbled while looking about.
"What
happened to your friends," I asked.
"I
don't know. I got separated from Sarah
soon after we got here. I don't know
where she is."
"You
didn't come with those guys? "
"No. I met them here. After I lost Sarah."
"Who
is Sarah?"
"My friend. We came together. We got separated.
"Say, could I use your cell phone? I lost mine."
I
handed her my cell and she punched in some numbers. "Sarah! Oh,
damn! Sarah! Her phone's off!" she
cried in frustration. "Battery's
probably dead again. Oh, damn! What am I going to do?"
"Where
did you park? Maybe we could meet
her..."
"We
can't drive! We came on the bus! Oh, damn!
What am I gonna do? I don't even
have bus money to get home."
"Where's
the bus stop? If you need, I can give
you bus money to get home. You can keep
the t‑shirt."
"Good
idea!" she gushed.
"C'mon! The last bus leaves
soon! We should've left an hour
ago!"
It
was slow going through the throng of half naked kids and when we finally made
it to where she was supposed to catch her bus, we were already twenty minutes
late. There would not be another bus
tonight.
"Look,"
I said. "What's your name?"
"Meagan."
"Okay,
Meagan. I can't just leave you here by
yourself, so how about if I give you a ride home?"
"I
can't go home."
"What?
Why not?"
"I'm
supposed to be staying at Sarah's tonight."
"Okay,
I'll take you to Sarah's."
"No. That won't work either."
"Let
me guess. Sarah is supposed to be
staying with you tonight."
"Yeah."
"How
old are you, Meagan?"
"Thirteen."
"Thirteen! Goddamn!
Well, I'm going to have to take you home."
"No,
no, no, please no! My dad will kill
me!"
"If
you were both supposed to be at the other's house tonight, just where were you
two planning to go after the concert?"
"We
figured we'd hook up with some guys.
Then go home tomorrow."
"So
where do you think Sarah is?"
"Meagan! Meagan!" called a girl's voice from a
passing white Cadillac with gold trim.
"There
she is! There she is!" squealed
Meagan excitedly.
The
low riding, gauche pimp‑mobile slowed and made a wide u‑turn. As it pulled closer, Sarah hung out the
window waving wildly. Giddily, she
shouted over the seismic vibrations of the heavy sub woofer, "Where have you been? Oh, my gawd! Oh, my gawd! C'mon! Get in!"
The
door swung open and I got a good look at four smug black punks in the car with
Sarah. They were a rough looking
bunch. Sarah still had a bikini top on,
but appeared naked from the waist down.
I was reluctant to let Meagan go with that crowd, but it really wasn't
any of my business.
Unhesitatingly
she got in and called out to me,
"Thanks, Mister! Thanks,
for the shirt!" That t‑shirt
wasn't going to be on her very long, that's for certain.
I
waved goodbye. All thoughts and self‑recriminations
that I should've somehow intervened at the concert and stopped the gang bang
evaporated as the car full of blacks and the two girls pulled away. A
bad thought crossed my mind so I made a mental note of the license plate number. No doubt, those two little cunts were both
going to be fucked, gang fucked, and maybe a lot more, before they got home tomorrow. I could only hope that a good fucking was all that happened to them.
To be continued...
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