[Revised 3/30/8 - Just made some minor improvements.]

Quickie - A Good Girl - by RedBud

	Leila's stomach tingled. Why couldn't she say no?
	She loved men. She loved how they smelled. She loved how they walked, their hips and their angular, muscular bodies. Not all men, mind you, but beautiful men. She felt his cock, his beautiful penis pressing against her ass through his pants and her skirt. He was pulling down her panties. She let him. Oh, she loved how men were turned on by her. She loved seeing them hard and seeing their desire for her.
	She loved penises. Not all penises, mind you, but beautiful penises. The long and skinny ones, the bent ones, the squat but fat ones. Yes, she had preferences, but penises had personalities. Why did she love men so much?
	She lifted first one foot, then the other, as he pulled off her thin white cotton panties. Then his hands moved upward, under her shirt, and pinched her nipples. She moaned. He was pushing his cock into her rear, making clear what he meant to do. Oh, yes, she loved the feeling of him grinding his hips against hers - the sheer, raw abandonment of pretense, of the civilized, for the simple fact that she was a female and he was male. Men needed to fuck, and oh!, but they needed to fuck `her'. She pushed back against him, arching her back. They just couldn't help it.
	"What?" she gasped.
	"Who's that?"
	"Oh shit," she breathed, "it's my parents!"
	"I thought they were gone for the night!"
	"Shit!" she manically picked up her panties and his shirt, coat, shoes, everything! The light from the car's headlights lit up the bedroom wall behind them. She heard the front door rattle, then open. They were both coming in! The car was still running.
	"Quick!" she hissed urgently. Without saying a word, she shoved her beautiful man into the shallow clothes closet, stepped in against him, her back to him, squeezing him against the back wall of the closet, and turned, quietly but quickly pulling closed the louvered folding doors. His clothes, everything, were still in her hands.
	The door to the bedroom opened. Leila could see them through the louvers of the closet doors.
	"Did you leave it in here?" her mother asked.
	"I don't know," her father answered, annoyed.
	"Did you look in your coats."
	"Yes."
	"In all your pants?"
	"Yes. Yes. Yes," her father answered impatiently. "I paid for something over the phone, that"s the last time I had it."
	Now they were both in the bedroom.
	"Where's Leila?" her father asked.
	"Maybe she hasn't come home yet,"said  her mother.
	"But her car's outside."
	"Maybe she went back out with a friend."
	"She should at least have left a note."
	"Honey," her mother answered, "she's going to be in college this fall."
	"We're alone in the house?"
	Her mother bent over, looking under the bed. Her father stepped behind her, his hands on her hips, his pelvis against her butt.
	Oh NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! - Leila bit her lip. I don't want to see this!
	"Not now." Her mother stood. "I don't want to be late." She went around to the other side of the bed and bent over again. Leila's lover was moving behind her, quietly, slowly lifting her skirt. No! Up. Up. Her skirt caught above her ass, caught between them. No! He was slowly, quietly, letting his cock out. She could feel it lodged between the cheeks of her ass. The feel of skin and the heat of his cock was like a jolt of electricity. No! What was she doing?
	"Here it is!" said her mother. "It fell off the nightstand."
	Then they were both on their hands and knees, picking up the money, photos and god knows what. Leila's mouth opened wide. She stifled a cry. Her lover's cock was between her thighs. He was pushing up and against her opening. And what was to stop him? The wet and swollen lips of her sex? They were all but inviting his cock, ready to kiss the head of him and they did. They kissed and opened slowly, lovingly around the flared head of his cock. She rolled her eyes and bit her lip again. No! But she arched her back. She could have squeezed her thighs together. The lips of her pussy closed lovingly round the flange of her lover's cock, sealing the head of him inside her, all but sucking him in. He pushed and the rest of his him slowly sunk into her. It was all she could do to keep silent. The feeling! 
	O, the feeling of a man sliding up inside her, the skin, the heat of his body, that width and hard length impaling her soft insides. It felt so good! She loved the hard feeling of a man's body around her and against her and inside her, all at the same moment - the feeling of being completely possessed. O God, the feeling of him between her legs and the stiffness of him so far inside her... she couldn't breath.
	"O, look at this," said her mother. "Your pictures fell out."
	"I forgot about these."
	"Look at Leila," her mother crooned. "That's when she was in kindergarten."
	"What a sweety."
	"The face of an angel."
	Leila's lover pinched her nipples, both of them, and pulled on her piercings. She pushed her nipples into his hands and leaned her head against his shoulder. His cock slowly, quietly, drew back and then pushed back up, up, oh... up until she could feel his soft bulbous tip tickling the barrier to her womb. He was licking the nape of her neck. O God, she wanted to groan and moan and writhe on his impalement. Her own moisture was dripping down her thighs. The bastard. His right hand went to her clit. It was erect and bulging from its little hood. Oh... he was pinching it softly between his fingers.
	"Look at this one," said her father. "This was when she was in seventh grade."
	"Look at how long her hair was!"
	"A little brunette, just like you and a string bean. Remember what a tomboy she was?"
	"She still is," her mother sighed. "I never see her with a boyfriend. It worries me a little."
	O, he was pushing his cock so deep in her, holding it there, rolling her clit between his fingers. She prayed they wouldn't open the closet door. She prayed they wouldn't see what was lodged in their daughter's belly. She was still holding her lover's shoes, and clothes and her own panties. What could she do? She was helpless. She gasped. She felt a first spasm where his cock pressed at her cervix. Christ! She needed to be quiet.
	Her lover reached down, took her panties from her hand. What was he doing? His hand came up, and her panties. His finger pressed her lips open and she sucked on it, penetrated in her mouth as well as her sex. God, she loved men. He was putting her panties in her mouth! She tasted herself and even the cum of her lover from an earlier tryst. She bit down on her panties. His fingers moved back to her clit, gently pinching, rubbing and squeezing the helplessly exposed nerve and then, oh, and then, oh god, he was gently pulling and thrumming her clit piercing. Her eyes rolled again and she arched her ass against him, surrendering to the inevitable.
	"Look at this. Her senior year high school photo," her Daddy crooned.
	"She cut her hair too short."
	"It's cute like that. Very smart."
	"And she's still thin as a rail," her mother answered. "She won't eat anything I cook her!"
	O, but her belly was `sooo' full. If she could have made a sound, she would have been grunting and moaning with the fullness of his beautiful cock. She would have been licking the sheets or the floor as he filled her belly thrust after thrust with his beautiful penis.
	"Can you believe she'll be graduating in a week?" her mother sighed.
	"She should have left us a note."
	"She's eighteen."
	"Do you remember the things I did to you when you were eighteen?" her Daddy growled.
	"She's got a better head on her shoulders than I ever did," her mother answered, smiling archly. O no! What was her Mom doing? She was still on her knees. She was leaning on the bed with an elbow and she was pulling up her skirt behind her. "I do remember. When I was her age, `you' were all I could think about, but Leila's a smart girl. She's already a pre-med student. I can't believe it. She doesn't drink. She doesn't do drugs.  She doesn't smoke. She gets straight A's.  She doesn't have one bad habit. We must have done something right when we raised her."
	They were both facing her. Thank god. She could only see their faces. She should close her eyes. She couldn't. Her Daddy moved behind her Mom. "Huh!" she saw her mother shoved forward against the edge of the bed, her back arch, her mouth open, her mother's eyes roll, half lidded, before her Daddy held her against himself by her shoulders. Her Mom let out a long moan. "Uhnnn, yes. Hurry. You feel so good... do it!"
	And then her Dad was thrusting quick and hard. "Is this all you could think about?" he asked.
	But her mother couldn't answer, she was sucking on her father's fingers, her eyebrows knitted in the beautiful agony of penetration.  O God! Her lover was thrumming her clit ring, pushing, and pushing up into her, holding himself hard inside her - pushing against her womb. She rose onto the balls of her feet, desperately trying to be quiet, pushing her pierced divide against him. No! She held her breath. She tensed and tried to stop the pleasure. Her Daddy had both his hands on her mother's hips now. Her Mom was licking the sheet, both her elbows up, palms flat at her waist, pressing down on the mattress. And then she heard her mother cumming. O my God! It sounded just like her. Short little inhalations as her muscles clamped down on her lover's cock. And Leila... No! She closed her eyes and tried to stop. She was stiff. She tensed her abdomen and belly until they were knots of muscle.  No! But she couldn't stop it. 
	What could she do? She couldn't make a sound. She couldn't move. She couldn't stop him tugging on her nipples rung and thrumming her clit ring. His cock was sooo deep inside her. And the magical thing about orgasms, the thing that she loved about orgasms, was what she dreaded now. The thrill of orgasms, when making love, was never knowing to whom her orgasm belonged - the surrender of ones body to another's will. Sometimes it was hers, sometimes her orgasm belonged to her lover. The most personal, the most pleasurable experience of her body, belonged to her lover tonight. She had lost control. She was helpless, a bystander as her lover took her orgasm from her, calling it, claiming it. 
        No matter how tightly she clenched her stomach muscles. No matter how rigidly she held her spine. No matter how agonizingly stiffly she clenched the muscles of her thighs, the nexus of her orgasm deep in her belly answered lovingly, smoothly, obediently to her lover's claims; answering to his thrumming fingers and his expectant cock, pressed against her insides - in places she would probably never touch herself. Her orgasm belonged to 'him'. That moment of surrender, that tipping point when the straining core of her belly finally surrendered to her lover's ministrations, caused her to arch her slender body like a bow. She slipped helplessly into her orgasm - and her body belong to 'him'.
	The whole of her was jolted as she contracted around her lover's cock. She didn't make a sound. She tasted the blood of her own lip. She saw sparks as her vision dimmed. Each contraction drained her, forced her complete surrender, again, again and again. Even as her orgasm was fading, her body continued to tighten and release the cock penetrating it with little sparks and uneven shudders.
	Her Dad was standing, zipping his pants. Her Mom pulled up her panties, or so she thought, and lowered her skirt, her top half resting on the mattress. When she pushed herself upright, standing, she smoothed down her black skirt and lightly pressed her belly. "Mmmm.... It feels good in there." She turned and kissed her Dad. "Let's just go. I don't need to clean. You can just think about all that cum in me when we're at the party." She smiled mischievously. Her Dad groaned.
	"Do you think she went somewhere with Jeremy," her Dad asked.
	"Jeremy," her mother mused. "Her college counselor? Don't you think he's a little old for her?"
	"He's not that much older than I was," her Dad grumbled.
	"Don't you worry, she's a good girl."
	Leila's parents passed by the closet as they left the bedroom. Jeremy's cum was spurting inside her. O, it felt so good. There was nothing she could do. O yes, she loved feeling a man's cum filling her, the feel of it jetting into her belly, spurt after spurt. She let him force her pussy tightly against his pelvis, let him force his cum deeply into her belly. The front door closed. Her seventh grade picture slipped off the bed.
	A last warm spurt of cum emptied into her core.	
	She was such a bad girl.
	She was such a bad, bad girl.

	
	
