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Message-ID: <36938asstr$1024690210@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "Rev. Cotton Mather" <revcottonmather@hotmail.com>
Mime-Version: 1.0
Subject: {ASSM} [rom fest] Hard Promise, Chap. 10/14 (rom mf anal)
Date: Fri, 21 Jun 2002 16:10:10 -0400
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Welcome to the Church of The Right Reverend Cotton Mather.  This story
is the sole property of the author, and may not be copied or downloaded
for the intent of profit.  Permission is freely given for anyone to
download or copy for their personal pleasure or use, as long as there
is no intent to charge money or barter for the privilege of acquiring
this material.

(Copyright 2001, Rev. Cotton Mather)

Don't be shy!  I enjoy hearing from you.
RevCottonMather@hotmail.com

------------------------------------------------------------------------



HARD PROMISE
Rev. Cotton Mather


- 10 -

The next few weeks were hell on me, but in my state of mind I didn't
much care if I was in pain or not. Actually, my attitude probably
helped me play football better, because now I had a nice, legal
outlet for the mayhem I wanted to inflict. I hit harder in practice
and during games, and jumped back up and asked for more if I was
knocked down.

Micki began dressing a little more conservatively, and stopped
hitting on other guys, seemingly having learned her lesson. On the
other hand, she turned her not inconsiderable charms in my direction,
trying to convince me through her sexual skills to be her boyfriend.

Brad and Jared and the other guys on the football team rallied
around me in support as much as they could, but I know that Brad,
at least, was taking considerable heat from Lindsey about our
continued friendship.

My class ring appeared in my locker one day, returned by Melissa,
who had not spoken a single word to me since our long distance phone
call. I heard through the grapevine that her friends were setting
her up with blind dates, trying to get her out of her depression,
but not many boys from our school wanted to get involved in this
bloody mess of ours.

Micki was not my girlfriend, despite her efforts to convince me
otherwise. I didn't call her in the evenings to talk, I didn't spend
a lot of time with her at school, I didn't hold her hand at lunch, I
didn't look for her on the sidelines during our games. She was a
receptacle for me, a cum receptacle. She did the work for me so I
didn't have to use my hand to jack off. Every Friday night, every
Saturday night, and one time on a Sunday afternoon, we managed to
meet somewhere to jump each other's bones. I ate her out, she gave
me head, I fucked her or she fucked me. But there was no feeling of
affection there, no inclinations of romantic attachment, no murmurs
of love afterward from me. Animal instinct took over as soon as I
felt her tits, or she shoved her hand down my jeans, and we just let
it happen. The only time any real emotion was shown was one Saturday
night when, having already blown my wad once down her throat, she
turned her slim ass toward me in invitation and said, "You want a
piece of ass, for real?"

I looked at her, not understanding, until she spread her cheeks for
me and slowly stuck a finger up her own butt. She looked back around
at me and said, "Got anything a little bigger you can use here?"

Just the thought of fucking her there made my cock stiffen, so I
started licking and kissing her ass and her pussy, spreading moisture
around. I paid special attention to her asshole, licking and drooling
all over it, all the while twisting my middle finger into her.

Finally she impatiently said, "Come on, stud, fuck me in the ass."
So I knelt behind her and rubbed my cock up and down her pussy lips
to add some of her oily slickness to me, and then I pressed the head
against her tiny brown asshole. I pressed forward while she held her
ground, and grunted when the head finally broke through her
sphincter into her.

"Oof," she said. "Go slow, Ray. Let me get used to it for a minute.
I've never done this before."

"What did you just say?" I asked in surprise.

"I've never done this before. Okay, Ray, I'm ready. Keep going in.
Ohhh, yeah, that feels good," she moaned as I flexed and pushed more
of my length into her. She was so tiny, barely five feet tall and
not even 100 pounds, and her ass was tighter than anything I had ever
experienced before. Looking down at her, it looked like she was trying
to stick a telephone pole up her ass. Slowly I was able to push about
half my shaft into her before I had to start pulling back out to
relieve the pressure. By the third time I had pushed into her, she was
taking most of my length, and her passageway was becoming slicker and
easier to move in. She was moaning and grunting with the effort of
taking me, her eyes closed and head thrown back, her long hair
cascading down around her face. Her forehead was sweaty, and strands
of her hair were stuck to her.

I, too, was grunting and sweating. I had my hands on her hips,
pulling her back onto me as I pushed in, then pushing on her waist
as I pulled slowly back out. It was a lot of work, but the results
were sure to be spectacular. As I watched, she reached down and
started diddling her clit, so I knew her orgasm was close. I struggled
to get as deep as I could in her, determined to shoot off with her if
I could. Suddenly, I felt her tense up. Her sphincter tightened on me
as she came, and I screamed as my cock expanded against her
constricting ring of muscle, then pumped painfully hard, unleashing
a torrent of sperm deep into her bowels.

Micki collapsed in exhaustion, and I fell breathless next to her.
After we had caught our breath, I asked, "What did you mean, you had
never done that before?"

Without looking at me, she answered, "Just what I said. You were the
first."

My brain was addled from spending the evening in carnal knowledge
with her. "What made you decide that tonight was the night you
wanted to pop that particular cherry?"

She turned her head away and didn't answer.

"Micki?"

No answer, no reaction. It was as if she had fallen asleep, which I
knew didn't happen. Micki really got energized, almost manic, after
sex. I, on the other hand, had trouble keeping my eyes open sometimes
afterward.

"Micki, answer me." I grasped her shoulder and rolled her over to me.
She resisted momentarily, and then allowed herself to be turned.
Tears were streaming down her face.

"What, Micki? Tell me what's going on," I insisted.

She sobbed, and it was if the dam broke. She put her hands to her
face and bent over as if she was in pain, the top of her head
pressing against my sweaty chest as she cried miserably.

"B.b.because i...i...it was the o...o...only thing I could g...g...give 
you,"
she hiccupped. "I...I couldn't be a virgin for you....and I
couldn't think of anything else..." she paused.

"Anything else what?" I asked, a little impatiently.

She looked up at me dejectedly. Her makeup was smeared from her
crying, her hair was plastered to her face, and the tears were
still coursing down her cheeks. Her eyes were red, and for the first
time I saw she had dark circles under her eyes. She looked miserable.

"I had nothing else to give you," she whispered. "Nothing else but
that to give you, to try to make you love me."  She started crying
harder again.

You stupid cunt, I wanted to scream, you can't make me love you!
Almost immediately, however, guilt and common sense combined to make
me look at myself. I didn't like what I saw, but I was trapped in
this loop of my own making. I sat up and turned away from her, my
head in my hands, and surrendered to the depression that was
constantly hovering around me.

I just wished I could find my way out of this miserable maze.



(Continued in Chapter 11)







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