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A teenage surprise.

Logan is by far the hottest guy in my High School, and I’m lucky enough to be his best friend. When I moved here from England 7 years ago, he was the first person I met, and we instantly bonded. He’s one grade ahead of me. Of course, he’s completely straight though, or at least I thought he was.

Let’s Play

An upcoming online gamer finds himself simultaneously partaking in one of THE greatest challenges of BOTH his gaming/romantic career.

Jessinta 01B – Biker Girl – Remastered

My name is Jessinta Jovanoski. I am thinly built (32-25-34) but athletically framed 152cm (5?0), 45kg (93lbs) girl at the time; with lightly tanned pasty skin, average to small but developing breasts (32A). My hair is darkish red and shoulder length; I have green eyes

Raped in Turkey Part 1

Raped in Turkey
(Part 1)
By Joy Traveller
After her room is robbed a beautiful teenage American tourist is blackmailed into sex by an aging Turkish hotel manager
______________________________________________________________________
The young Turkish woman entered the office. She was about 22, though her round, elfin face with its wide, near black, almond eyes and full red lips made her look younger. It was framed perfectly by long, midnight dark hair that flowed to her shoulders.
Her manner of dress would have been considered utterly immodest by the local standards of Islamic prudery. Her white tank top was too tight for a bra to be worn underneath. In the west, she would have been complemented on not needing to wear one. Shaped like plump, ripe pomegranates her firm youthful flesh needed no support. The low cut of her top did little to hide the fullness of her breasts, nor the proud, slightly upturned nipples that tipped them. Even in the dingy light of the office, the dark, puckered aureole that surrounded her nipples were plain through the thin white fabric that struggled to just cover them.
Her tight fitting black skirt was short; barely long enough to hide the tops of the sheer dark stockings that covered her shapely legs. She stood hesitantly. Eventually she drew enough courage to speak.
“You wanted to see me, Sir?”
Her question was directed to the owner-manager of the small hotel she worked for, now sat behind a large desk. He was about sixty (she guessed at his age; she did not know it exactly and had never dared ask). He was overweight. Too mean to pay for the air conditioning in the hotel to be fixed, even with no exertion the humid heat caused beads of sweat to form on his balding scalp. He did not acknowledge her presence. While she waited for him to respond she fixed her attention to a sweat bead that trickled down into one of the greasy grey-black arcs of unkempt hair that remained above his ears. He reached into the pocket of the grubby linen suit he wore and pulled out a stained handkerchief to mop it away.
He did not look up, but concentrated on the papers in front of him as he spoke.
“I called you ten minutes ago. Where have you been?”
The girl shuffled uneasily on her heels, nervously pressing her thighs together.
“I am sorry, Sir. But there were guests checking in at reception. I came as quickly as I could.”
He grunted a dismissal and looked up. “To more important matters. I see we have a new guest?”
The receptionist needed no more information. She knew exactly where this was going to lead. She hated being part of it, but she had no choice.
“We have a number of new guests.”
This brief evasion was, she knew, pointless. But it gave some sense of, well, trying.
The hotel manager was irritated by her obvious stalling. Looking up at last he made his clarification clear in staccato:
“Yes. A girl! European. Perhaps American. Blond. Probably no more than a teenager.”
The receptionist sighed “Yes, Sir. I think I know who you mean,” (she knew his tastes; he could mean no one else). “She is American. She booked in five days ago.”
“Which room?”
“Number 23.”
The manager’s eye narrowed. “And she is here alone?”
The girl sighed silently. “Yes, Sir. She is alone.”
The manager lent back in his office chair and grinned. “Excellent. Well then. It seems we have the chance of another…” He paused slightly for emphasis, “…project on our hands, doesn’t it?”
The girl looked down. Quietly she said: “Yes, Sir. It does.”
“Good,” said the manager. He stood. The girl noticed that although lose, the front of his ill-fitting pants showed a clear sign of his erection. The girl sank inwardly. The thought of another ‘project’ always excited him.
He moved from round the desk to stand beside the girl. He spoke quietly into her ear. “Yes. This girl will make a very good project. Do you not agree?”
Not altering her posture she silently turned her head towards him.
“You have the spare key to her room?” he asked.
“Yes,” she replied quietly.
He nodded and mopped the sweat away from his balding head once more with the handkerchief balled in his palm.
“Good. But now, there is the matter of you being late.”
“I’m sorry, Sir. I told…”
He raised his palm to quiet her. “Enough!”
Nonchalantly, he added: “Now raise your skirt and bend over the desk.”
_________________________________________________________________
Emma lay on the beach, face down, her eyes closed, enjoying the warm sun bronzing her firm, teenage flesh. She felt the sudden cool of a falling shadow, the eclipse of warmth enough to make her turn onto her side and open her eyes. The shadow was that of a man standing above her, one of the many locals who frequented the beach. The resort was used by some tourists, but mainly by local men who would come primarily, Emma knew, to get a good look at the Western girls in their brief swimwear. She had never seen a local woman at the beach.
She squinted as her eyes slowly adjusted to the new light on her retinas. As the man became clearer she guessed that he was probably only in his thirties, but looked older. As his features took form, Emma realised he was quite ugly. A ridiculously brief thong just served to accentuate his flabby torso and short, hairy legs. Despite being on a public beach with a lot of people sunning themselves, she suddenly felt quite naked in her revealing cream string tie bikini. She rolled over onto her bum. Then she sat, pulled her knees up towards her chin and folded her arms around her calves. It was an almost instinctive move, the best she could do to hide her body from his too obvious gaze. She looked up at him.
“What do you want?” She inquired.
“You Anglazi,.. Deutsch?”
Emma pushed her shoulder length strawberry blond hair back over her ear, tilting her head slightly to one side to look the man in the eye. She had been pestered by local men almost constantly since arriving in Turkey and had learned in her short time here that a direct refusal was all that worked.
“No,” she said with a sigh she hoped would make her lack of interest clear. Then she added: “American”. She immediately regretted her qualification as he clearly took it to be an invitation to conversation.
“Ah, American! You holiday?” His poor English was delivered with a thick local accent.
“Yes,” replied Emma trying to make her lack of interest clear.
“OK. Is good. You meet me. Later. Have drink?” The man asked.
He reached down to his waist and pulled his thong up under his protruding belly. He bulged and Emma realised with a faint disgust that he was semi erect. Worse still, he clearly wanted her to see how big he was. She sighed inwardly. God, the local men were awful. Did they all think the best way to get a date with a Western girl was to flash their junk? Anyway, why did he think a creep his age would interest her?
Emma snapped from her thoughts. “No, sorry,” She said eventually, being as polite as her mood allowed. “I’m busy tonight.”
The man grunted a nod but did not move. He reached behind himself and pulled out the pack of cigarettes he kept pushed down the back of his briefs. He took one out and lit it. Though she had had the occasional cigarette, the thick, acrid smell of the local cigarettes made Emma feel sick. He proffered the pack to her.
“Smoke?” he inquired.
“No, thank you. I don’t,” Emma said, flapping her hand in front of her face somewhat moralistically to dispel the smoke.
“Tonight. Later. I take you to club. We have good time.”
Emma noticed that the man’s eyes had shifted from looking directly into hers. By the direction of his now transfixed stare she realised that in raising her knees she had revealed the thin strip of bikini brief that covered her pudenda. He drew back on his cigarette intent on savouring her inadvertent between the thighs show. This had not done anything to help the gross erection now clearly beginning to strain at the man’s thong. He saw that Emma had noticed it. Far from being embarrassed, he tried to suck in his belly and pushed his hips forward in a pitiful attempt to make himself more attractive to the beautiful young American.
“Excuse me!” Emma barked as she flattened her legs quickly.
He just smiled. “I take you to friend’s party. Have great time.”
“No, I’ve told you already. I’m busy!” Emma snapped her head back sharply, causing her blond hair the fly back and her full breasts to giggle slightly. A pink tip of tong darted across his lips.
“My friend. He have great parties. Lot of English German American girls go. He made a gesture of pulling a joint from his mouth and with a wink added: “You like smoke?”
“Look!” Shrieked Emma. “I have told you I am not interested. I do not want to go. I am busy.” Then, punctuating each word in a mimic of his broken English, “do… you… understand… me?”
With this the man shrugged and, pulling on his cigarette, finally walked slowly away.
Emma felt relief at his departing but she had had enough. This vacation was proving to be terrible. One week in and she wanted to go home. But her air tickets were not transferrable. She must endure two more weeks.
She had worked hard in her first year at university and felt she had earned a break. She wanted to get away from the dull weather of Boston, especially after the break up with her boyfriend. She could have travelled in the States but the need to explore the wider world a bit was strong. Her parents were quite unhappy at the thought of her travelling to Turkey. But she had argued that it was safe – a well known beach resort (actually Emma knew it was not that well known). She also told them she was travelling with two friends. This was, well, only a white lie. She had planned to travel with two friends but they had dropped out at last minute due to being broke. Emma was quite fortunate in having a small trust fund to call upon now she was eighteen. When her friends dropped out, she nearly cancelled the trip herself. But in a fit of bravado she had finally decided to go on her own.
Emma stood and reached to the sand for the short floral sundress she had brought with her. Not bothering to unfasten the buttons, she slipped her wrists into the arm holes and raised it above her head. As she did so, she noticed the group of local men who had congregated around her in an almost unbroken circle had not failed to notice that her pose now showed off her long slim legs, good hips and full breasts to perfection. She groaned and quickly slipped the sun dress over her bikini, stroking her hands over her body to smooth it down. She slipped her feet into her pumps and grabbed the beach bag that contained just sun block, water and the keys to her hotel room. To get past her circle of admirers, Emma had to practically step over one man in his fifties who rested prone on his elbow. As she approached he strained his neck, positioning his head so as to get a good and quite obvious look up her dress as she passed. By now she hardly cared about the local men ogling her. Lets the bastards watch. They can have a good wank later if they want to, she thought defiantly. In truth, the thought of the dark-skinned local men pleasuring themselves while calling her image to mind made her feel dirty.
Once past the men she took the short walk up the beach back towards her hotel.
Her hotel! Emma felt her depression deepen a little. God, it was as awful as the men. She had chosen it on line because it was near to the beach and, well, cheap. Emma recalled the third lie she had told her parents: “No it’s not an independent hotel. It’s part of a large chain.” The hotel looked good in the on-line photographs, but in reality was quite run down and even creepy. It was smaller than she expected with only about thirty rooms on three floors. It was dirty and the facilities none existent. The air conditioning never worked leaving the rooms heavy with a damp, cloying heat.
Once she reached her hotel, she stepped through the open entrance. Moving through reception she paused briefly to smile at the very pretty local girl who worked behind the desk. The girl smiled back, somewhat nervously, Emma thought. But the though soon evaporated.
Emma took the elevator up to her second floor room. She walked down the ill lit corridor with its dehydrated pot plants and approached the door marked 23. She slipped the key in. The lock felt odd, slack. As she started to turn the key the door pushed open. Her room was unlocked. She felt a slight twinge of unease. She was sure she had locked the door before heading to the beach. As she entered the room the slight unease turned to full panic. Her room had been ransacked. All the drawers of the cheap bedroom furniture were open. Her clothes were scattered over the floor and onto the old, heavy bed. Even in her panic, Emma noticed that there was some order in the chaos. Her underwear had been separated and arranged on the bed. She felt bile rise in her stomach as she dashed to her suitcase. At least it was still there! The case was good quality and secure. She felt a moment’s relief. The locks looked good. But as she grabbed the case to lift it onto the bed it fell open. Her heart sank to the pit of her stomach. The locks were good, but the hinges at the back had been prised off. Looking at the scratches something like a screwdriver had been used to crudely force them away from the plastic. Desperately Emma searched the case. It was empty. Oh, God! Emma gasped. Her money and credit cards were gone. So was her passport and air tickets. Even her mobile phone.
Emma ran from the room and down the corridor. She stabbed at the lift button. It was now out of order! She dashed down the stairs, taking two at a time, descending the four flights to the hotel lobby in moments. Catching her breath she ran to the desk. The local girl was still there, busy checking out a middle-aged man in a cheap suit. The man though was clearly absorbed in checking out the girl’s body. He turned and looked at Emma as she approached the desk.
“Please! You have got to help me!”
“One moment, please. I will be with you,” replied the girl.
Emma groaned. She was in such a state that she did not even notice that her dash had caused the strap of her sun dress to fall over her shoulder revealing the left side of her bikini top. The man did notice however and took no shame in switching his attention from the receptionist to Emma’s shapely and now better revealed breast. She glared at him as she pulled the top of her dress back up and turned again to the girl at the desk.
With that the girl handed the grinning man his passport and some change and he left.
“How can I help?” She asked.
“Please,” gasped Emma, her breath short more from shock than her exertions. “My room has been robbed! My tickets, my passport, my money. Everything has gone.”
The girl’s eyes widened with a look of approaching horror. “Oh, no.” She sighed. “When?”
“Today. Earlier. It must have been while I was at the beach.”
The girl’s look of horror turned to one more of desperation. She looked furtively around as if making sure they were alone then intently back at Emma. Before starting to speak she reached out and placed her hand over Emma’s, now flat on the reception desk. She squeezed it lightly in an act that seemed intent on comforting her as much as keeping her attention. Leaning forward, she spoke quietly, as if to tell her a secret.
“Please, listen to me. Go now. Quickly. You must go now. Go to your consulate. Get help there. But leave here. Leave now.”
The girl’s anxious stream of advice was interrupted by a male voice from the open door of the office behind the desk. The girl seemed shocked and visibly cringed as she heard it. She pulled away from Emma as if to pretend their conversation had never happened.
“I do not think that will be necessary, Fatima,” said a portly, balding Turk of about sixty appearing from the office. He placed a hand on the reception girl’s shoulder. She visibly shrunk under his touch.
“I will deal with this, Fatima. You have better things to be doing,” he said.
“Yes, Sir,” she sighed turning her head down. She caught Emma with one last, pleading glimpse before turning to walk away.
As she did so the man called after her. “I will want to talk to you later, Fatima. Do you understand?” The girl turned and, avoiding Emma’s gaze, replied “Yes, Sir. I understand.” Emma could not fail to notice the air of resignation in her voice.
The man grinned, showing a set of bad teeth. “Now, miss. I am the hotel manager. What is your problem?
Emma felt a little relief at being able to speak to someone in charge. “Yes, thank you. My room has been broken into. My things stolen. Important things.”
The hotel manager looked sternly at her. “Are you sure? I do not know how this is possible. This hotel is quite secure. Nobody could get past the desk.”
“Well it has happened.”
The man cupped his chin in his fingers and pondered.
“Hmm…” He looked intently at Emma. “We had better deal with matter this in my private office.”
He moved back from the reception desk and swept his arm in a gesture of invitation. “This way, if you please.”
Emma moved behind the desk, stepping ahead of him and through the open door into the back office. He followed her in. Once inside he pointed to an elevator.
“My private office would be best. Follow me, please.”
Emma stepped up the elevator door. He poked at the button and reached to pull open the door. The elevator was small, claustrophobic, the heat even heavier. Emma manoeuvred herself as far back as she could as he entered the elevator behind her. His arm reached up and over her shoulder. Stale sweat shocked her nostrils with an acid tang. A key emerged from between his fingers.
“The fourth floor. It is all private. My office is there.” With that, he placed the key into the panel and turned it. Emma notice that the elevator had no floor buttons and realised it must only go to his private floor. The doors closed and the ascent began. Emma felt as if the trip to the fourth floor was taking forever. The lift was slow and, even given the elevators small size, he stood closer to her than he needed two. Emma was not tall – about 5’5”. Though he was only about three inches taller than her his bulk made him appear a massive, looming presence.
Eventually, the elevator stopped and he pushed the door open. Emma stepped out with some relief straight into his private office. The furnishing was minimal. A large desk dominated the room. In front of it was an old style ottoman couch; its low, wide seat curving into a high, wood trimmed back.
“Please, sit,” the manager said arching his arm towards it as he moved behind the desk.
Emma sat in the middle of the ottoman. As she sat she noticed with a little disgust that its red and gold fabric was worn and stained. She sat forward. As she did so, her sun dress fell open over her leg revealing her upper thighs and the lower-V of her bikini briefs. She looked up and noticed that the still standing hotel manager was leaning forward slightly so as to better admire her. Quickly she gathered the skirt, wrapping it around her and pulling it down as far as possible over her legs. She reached her hands forward to her knees to cover her breasts with her upper arms. She concluded this was the most modest pose her relative undress allowed.
The hotel manager slipped of his jacket, hung it over the back of the desk chair and sat. “Now, tell me what has happened.”
Wearily, Emma began to repeat the story: “This morning, about ten, I think, I went to the beach. When I got back…”
“When would that be?”
“Around noon. I went back to my room…”
“Which is?”
His interruptions were beginning to irritate Emma. She didn’t hide it as she continued:
“Number 23. When I got back it was unlocked. It had been robbed. All my things have been stolen…”
“Which things?”
Emma looked up petulantly. “Everything! Money, credit cards, my passport, air tickets. My phone, camera.”
“But you say your room was unlocked?”
“Well, yes. But it wasn’t when I left.”
“But you are not sure you locked it?”
“Yes! Well, I’m sure I did.”
“But you are not certain?”
“Well, not absolutely certain. I mean, I am sure…”
“So it is very possible you left without locking your room?”
“Look. However the person got in, they stole everything. That is what matters!”
“Hmm… But there is the issue of responsibility to consider.”
Emma’s irritation surfaced. “Look, I don’t care who is responsible – the bastard thief is responsible! I just want to get something done about it.”
The hotel manager looked down and pondered for a time. Then he looked up.
“So…you cannot pay the bill for your stay?”
“I beg your pardon!” Emma replied sharply. “No! Of course not. Not at the moment, anyway. Like I said: my money and credit cards have gone.” Emma could not believe that the bill was the most important thing on the fat bastard’s mind.
“Yes, you have told me. And your passport, air tickets and…” He waved a dismissive hand, “…and so on.”
“Yes. What are you going to do about it?” Emma shrieked.
The manager lent back, raised his elbows and placed his hands, fingers knotted, behind his neck. Emma noted with revulsion the sweat stains on his shirt under his armpits.
“I am surprised that you think this a matter for my hotel.”
As Emma stared incredulously he added:
“What is a matter for my hotel is the issue of your bill.”
For a moment, Emma was speechless. Eventually she managed to say:
“This is stupid. Completely stupid…”
The hotel manager simply shook his head.
Emma waived her arms, dismissively. “That’s it. I’ve had enough. I want to report this to the police.”
“Indeed. Indeed it might well be. But the matter for the police will be that – and not for the first time, I am disappointed to say – a western tourist has stayed in my hotel, enjoyed my hospitality and then been unable to pay, expecting that some dubious story about ‘having been robbed’ is enough of an excuse.”
Emma’s anger forced each word with spleen:
“I…just…don’t…fucking…believe…this!”
The hotel manager shook his head with an expression of forced disappointment.
“I understand that you are upset, my dear. But you must also understand my position.” With that he stood. He moved around the desk to the ottoman and sat beside Emma. As his bulk settled beside her, she slid away. Turning to her he said:
“Look. This matter is quite unfortunate. But it need not become…” he paused monetarily and narrowed his eyes, “…any more unfortunate than it need be.”
“Unfortunate?”
“Yes, my dear. Staying in a hotel, knowing you are unable to pay is a serious matter in my country. Is it not in yours?”
“Look. I can’t pay the bill at the moment. But as soon as I get my stuff back, or at least the cards cancelled and replaced, I will be able to pay your goddamn bill.” She punched out each word.
“That could take some time. But for the time being, you cannot pay. We are clear on this, yes?”
Emma threw her head back. “Fine, don’t worry. I’ll contact the police.” She said haughtily.
“As I have suggested, this might well become a matter for the police. But I will, of course, insist that you are held in a police cell until the matter of your dept to me is sorted out.”
Emma shook her slowly head in disbelief. “What…?”
“That would be a very unfortunate way to deal with this matter, to say the least. I think that we should discuss an alternative.” The lecherous grin that spread across the hotel manager’s face left Emma in no doubt as to what he had in mind. She stared at him incredulously as he continued:
“You are very beautiful. I would be happy to take a little pleasure in way of payment.”
She felt his palm land on her leg, just above the knee. His hand slipped under her sun dress and began to slide up her thigh. She grabbed his wrist and pulled it away as she darted to stand.
“No way! No fucking way!” She cried. The hotel manager looked up at her.
“You surprise me. Many female guests in your position seem quite eager to whore for their bill.”
It dawned on Emma that she was being set up. Had he robbed her room? How many times had he…?” Emma dismissed the thought as too bizarre. Angrily she spat:
“You dirty old bastard! Do you think I’d…That I would want to…With you?”
“Well then, there is always the police. The choice is yours. But before you make it, let me tell you a little about our police prison here. Not to the standards you might find in your own country, I am afraid. The guards are poorly paid. One of the few – I think you use the word ‘perks’ – they have is free access to the female prisoners. I do not think I need add that a beautiful young western girl would be a rare prize for them. I can assure you that you will be gang-raped with utmost vigor. You would be fortunate if they were able to discipline themselves to violating you just one at a time.”
Emma’s jaw dropped. She could make no words, just a strangled gasp.
I might add that the only thing the guards at the police-prison are known for more than their rapacious sexual appetite is their corruption.” The hotel manager grinned. “I think after a few days in their hands you would be begging me to pay for you to be delivered back to me. And that then serving my satisfactions would come as a relief.”
Emma let out a gasp of incredulity. “This is disgusting. You are a creepy – old – pervert!” Emma turned and looked towards the elevator. It suddenly dawned on her that without the key that operated it, she was trapped.
He dismissed her insult with a casual wave. “So be it. But be in no doubt, my dear. My influence with the police is high. If you deny me, I will have you taken into custody. They would be very eager to begin your interrogation.” Casually, he added, “I hear a strip search is how they usually start…”
Emma stared at him incredulously.
Sharply, he added: “Now sit down!”
She did so, her legs folding as the energy drained from them.
He angled over her. “That’s better. I see you are going to be sensible.”
Emma knew the dirty old goat had her. That she could not get out of his office and that he could have her taken to prison. She knew enough about the country that once in prison repeated rape by the guards was inevitable.
His next touch paralyzed her with fear. He reached his hand up to her neck, which he began to stroke, quite gently. Then his hand drifted to the top button of her sun dress. Agile fingers swiftly flipped it open. Then the next. He paused to pull the dress open over her shoulders. His eyes fixed on her plump breasts, now so precariously covered by her revealing bikini top.
“No, please, don’t…Not this…,” she moaned.
“Ahh… So convenient,” he sighed as he noticed the string tie holding her bikini top in place. The tip of a plump, brown finger trailed down her breast bone to the thin cord hung in a simple bow between her breasts. A quick tug freed the tie. After that, flipping the loose cups to one side to expose her breasts was trivial.
“Oh! Allah has certainly rewarded me today”, he giggled as he took her breasts in his palms and moulded her firm flesh like a potter shaping clay. He pinched her nipples hard between thumb and forefingers, forcing them to involuntarily ripen and harden. Emma looked down. His hands looked almost black in contrast to her lightly tanned above and below her tan line creamy, pale flesh. She began to sob.
“Please. Please. Stop now. Stop and I won’t tell anyone about this,” Emma pleaded.
The hotel manager just laughed and intensified his lustful exploration of her teenage body.
“And say what? Who would believe the lies of a white whore? I would just make sure slander was added to your crimes on the list for the guard’s fuck-sentencing.”
Tears began to role down Emma’s face. Suddenly he stopped fondling her.
“It looks as if I am doing all the work. I expect more than this as payment for your debt.”
With that he reached down under the gut overflowing the waist of his pants, undid the buttons of his fly and, raising his rump slightly, slid then down to his calves. So freed he was able to spread his knees.
Emma saw the straining, olive brown cock spring up like a grotesque, carnal jack-in-the-box. Emma was not experienced, but it was much bigger than any of her boyfriends’. Thick knotted veins ridged its slightly curved shaft. A bloated purple glans, tipped by a raw looking eye completed the monstrous rape-tool. She knew he planned to put it inside her. And with that the contents of the pendulous, wrinkled scrotum now sagging under the weight of his ready sex fluids. Bile rose in her stomach.
“Now, your turn to do a bit of the work.”
Emma knew she now had no alternative. Whatever doubt that remained that the dirty old bastard was serious had evaporated. Her mind filled with anticipation of the fate that awaited her in the hands of the guards in a local police cell. She weighed the vile alternatives in her mind. She made a decision. She gripped the shaft in her fingers and started stroking it.
“OK. I’ll wank you off, if you want. But only if you’ll let me go after.”
Emma hoped that this would sate him. Wanking him off was disgusting. But it was better than having him inside her. She had reluctantly masturbated a couple of boyfriends as a consolation prize after denying them full sex while making-out. They had all complemented her on her touch. Remembering the technique she had quickly learned, she built up her pace. Then slowed it, squeezing and slightly twisting the shaft. Then fast again. She repeated the cycle of her pleasure-massage. Soon a thin trickle of liquid began to flow from the eye. Seeing his pre-come start made Emma feel sick; but at least it meant he wouldn’t be long now. Her ordeal would soon be over. She steeled herself for the ejaculation she knew (hoped?) would soon splash over her fingers. Now she had to finish it. She hated the idea of freely initiating any part in his use of her, but it had to end. She reached her free hand under his balls, cupped them and began to roll them in her palm. The hotel manager groaned in appreciation at her added attention.
“Good. Very good. You are skilful,” he sighed. “Now let us see if your whore-skills are good enough to settle your bill.” Emma stopped her strokes suddenly.
“No…,” she moaned as the realisation of what he now wanted crystallised.
The hotel manager placed his palm to the back of her neck. He pulled her down, gently, but firmly.
“Suck me,” he demanded. “Suck me like the pretty Miss America whore you are!”
Emma’s jaw dropped in horror. He pushed her neck harder.
“No…,” she groaned softly. “I said I would wank you.”
“And I said: Suck it!”
Emma felt nausea well in her stomach. But she knew she had no choice. Catching his eyes, heavy with lust, she gave him a final pleading glance as she reluctantly submitted to him guiding her head to his crotch. Pre-come smeared her lips as she spread them around the swollen head. She began to work it with a smooth, short sucking motion. It was not enough for him. Impatiently he pushed her neck down, hard, and his pulsing shaft filled her mouth until the head pushed to the back of her throat. Her tong caught a salty, sweaty tang. But he filled her throat so much she could not even gag.
As she sucked, she felt him reach back. His hand contacted her thigh and he pulled her legs fully onto the ottoman. He now reached over her back and slipped his hand up her dress. After flipping it up over her waist, his fingers slid along the inside of her thigh and then, with his palm resting over her bum pushed their way between her legs. After a short spell stroking her vulva through the thin fabric of her bikini briefs she felt the fingers slip under the edge of the material. Any moan she made as a chubby finger teased its way into her vagina was strangled by the thick cock in her throat. As she continued to suck, she used her free hand to adjust her open dress top back over her breasts in a futile but determined act of modesty.
“Keep up the hand work as well,” he ordered. She did so, now desperate to get her ordeal over with. Even though submission was now beginning to overwhelm Emma, a distant glow of rationality remained. His length meant that even forced to the back of her throat, sufficient man-flesh remained below her lips for her to pump it eagerly with her slim fingers. If she took some control, she might be able to pull her head back as he came. She would get his sperm in her face. But better that than in her mouth.
He began to buck his hips. Holding her neck firm he fucked into her mouth. She felt his muscles tense and knowing he was imminent, she tried to pull her head back. But he had anticipated her. His fingers gripped her neck harder. Her hope of evading his seed fill her mouth vanished as his cock started to pulse; flesh waves forcing her already stretched lips wider. She offered no more resistance as what seemed like endless bursts of sperm fired straight into her throat. For some reason a childhood memory of being forced to swallow a vile tasting medicine shocked its way to the front of her mind.
He relaxed his grip on her neck and Emma was finally able to lift her head up. Her tear stained face was locked in an expression of retching disgust. She forced herself to speak through her now heaving stomach.
“You’ve had what you want. Now, please…Please, let me go.”
“In time. Perhaps when your debt is fully paid.” The realisation that her violation was not yet over caused Emma let out another wrenching sob.
“Now, if you would stand, please, miss,” he said casually.
Emma felt the little remaining strength she would need for any new resistance slip away from her. She had now given up any hope of denying him his full pleasure. Quietly, she stood and faced him. The partial flaccidness that had immediately followed his servicing of her mouth was brief. His cock was rigid again.
“I think a little entertainment is called for, Miss America!” His face split into a smug grin. “A strip show, if you please!”
Emma would not let him see any more tears. She looked at him defiantly as she stood. Trembling fingers reached down to unfasten the remaining buttons of her sun dress. She opened it, slipped it from her shoulders and let it fall to the floor. Her already unfastened bikini top quickly followed. She raised a leg and reached for her pump.
“No! Leave your shoes on,” he barked.
Emma placed her foot down. Her arms fell limply to her side. What remained of her modesty was now covered by just her bikini briefs.
“Now your panties,” he gasped.
Emma reached down to the thin tie-cords that held her briefs in place over her hips. Numb fingers tugged the cords open – left then right. The bikini briefs joined the top and sun dress on the floor. The ghost-V of her panty tan line guided his gaze down to her ripe, young labia. His eyes widened with glee. Emma had only fine, fair pubic hair. But she always shaved completely to wear a bikini. Now her grooming was just a bonus to this animal’s lust.
“Allah’s rewards are bountiful today! He has prepared you well for me! Now show yourself fully to me.”
Emma raised her arms to the top of her head and robotically swivelled her hips for him. To Emma’s disgust he started to masturbate.
“Ah…,” he sighed, “you do a good whore-dance!”
The hotel manager took his hand from his rigid penis and stood, straining his weight up with his arms. He moved behind her. He placed his hand on her butt, splayed fingers dug into her flesh.
“Now, to the couch.”
He pushed her forward. The edge of the ottoman met the front of her calves. She raised her ankles to keel on it. He attended her to his preferred positioning. He pushed her shoulders forward so she leant against the raised back. He reached and grabbed her wrists. Pulling them away from her torso he arranging arms fully stretched along the wooden edge. His hands grasped her hips and pulled them up towards him. For his finale, he pushed her knees under her so her exposed womanhood was fully presented.
The sting of a sudden, slicing blow to her right buttock caused her to squeal. Then his palm delivered another. Then another.
“Come, now. If you want to whore my bill with that pretty white cunt, Miss America, I deserve a good look.” Another stroke.
Emma raised her butt. “Good. Now spread your legs wider.” Emma did so. Another, harder, slicing stroke caused her to arch her back.
“That is good. Very good.” He gasped. Emma could feel his eyes burning into her delicate flesh. She knew what was coming next. She felt him approach her. Her labia were parted as his cock-head eagerly searched for her vaginal opening. It found its moist prize quickly and he slid into her with a single thrust. As he settled into his rhythm, she felt the weight of his gut settle on the small of her back and the dampness of his sweat as he folded himself over her.
Emma soon realised that the one small mercy his sating in her mouth had offered – his quickness – was not to be reoffered. Now he was taking his time. His fuck strokes deep, but leisurely. Better to fully appreciate the unique pleasure of a teenage white girl. His hands now found her butt cheeks. He massaged them roughly. Then his fingers spread and parted her cheeks. The sudden coolness of evaporating sweat told Emma that he was helping himself to a good look at her now fully exposed anus. She groaned as she felt his thumb stroke over her puckered sphincter. No, she thought. Not there! She had never even allowed her boyfriend to touch her there. He had not even tried. After making sure it was moist with her juices his thumb forced its way into her rectum.
Oh, God. Please. Not there. Please, don’t let him fuck me there…was the only thought that raced through her mind as he worked her tight ass with his thumb. She almost felt relief as his thrusts into her vagina became more urgent and then, grunting with effort, he finally emptied a fresh load of man- juice deep into her womb.
He pulled out of her. Emma turned to look at him. She drew in her arms preparing to lift herself. Another stroke of his palm stung her buttock.
“I did not give you permission to move!”
“But, you’ve had what you wanted. You said you would let me go…”
“Perhaps I will let you go when I have finished with you. And I have not finished with you yet.”
“Please…,” She whimpered.
“Now, time for the ultimate pleasure…,”
Emma sagged. She knew what he intended. The hope that sodomising her would not be part of his vile demands was now shattered. No resistance was possible as she felt him approach and position the bulbous head of his cock against her puckered ring. Her body felt hollow: An empty, pale, beautiful young flesh-vessel into which he could – he would – empty his dark sex organ at will. The little fight her sphincter presented to his cock broke quickly under his force. Once past, he filled her rectum slowly, twisting and grinding his manhood into her. As he found his desired depth, she felt his heavy scrotum press tight against her vulva.
He raised his left foot onto the ottoman to gain extra purchase as he pleasured himself deeply in her anus. As he did so, he arched over her to grasp greedily at her breasts. He ground himself into her mercilessly, enjoying the special tightness her virgin ass offered. He pace quickened as grunting with pleasure he approached his rut. Then Emma felt the friction of his cock ease as he sprayed his cum and welcome lubrication into her colon. He offered a couple of final thrusts to finish draining himself. She felt him sag and she took his weight for a while as he gathered his breath. Eventually he lifted away from her.
Emma tuned to her side and let her body slip onto the ottoman. She took up a foetal position, her knees lifted to her chin, her arms protective around them. Finally, the tears could flow. Through them she sobbed:
“Please… Now you will let me go…? Please…You’ve done everything…Everything you want with me…to me…Let me go. Let me go, now…Please”
The hotel manager laughed.
“Why the haste, my pretty Miss America? You still have two weeks left. Plenty of time for us to get to know each other even better.” He reached and took her chin in his fingers. He pulled her face up towards his. She tasted his sour breath as he added:
“Why, your vacation has only just begun…”

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Mr. Wong’s Curios: Dragon’s Eye Amulet

“Khaheh!” The dust in the back room was so thick, it was choking. I found the box of stuff Mrs. Wong had asked me to get and brought it out to the front desk. “Is this what you wanted?”
“Yes, thank you.” Her voice creaked out, sounding uncannily like the rusty hinges on the doors of her shop. I work at Mr. Wong’s Curios and Antiques. It’s an old store that the late Mr. Wong set up in the seventies- I think. When he died a few years back, his widow, Mrs. Wong, took up running the store. I think it helped her deal with her grief, gave her something to do. When I needed a job over the summer, I noticed this store and even though it didn’t have a “Hiring” sign, I asked Mrs. Wong if they had any jobs available. To my surprise, she hired me as an assistant. I helped stock inventory, dust, and run the cash register. Some evenings I even closed the store. But I had never opened, until now. Mrs. Wong was visiting her family in China and she was leaving me in charge of the store for three weeks.
I glanced at the grandfather clock behind us, it was nearly nine in the morning. “Mrs. Wong, you need to go! You’ll be late for your flight.”
“Okay, okay. Such good boy, watching out for old lady.” Before leaving, she asked for the fifth time if I had the keys, knew how to run everything, and would make sure to be on time every morning. For the fifth time, I told her I did and I would. “Okay, okay. You know I not have extra money to pay you.” I smiled at her as she looked slightly embarrassed.
“I told you, it’s okay, it’s not hard and you pay me plenty as is.” Mrs. Wong nodded, then reached in the box I had carried out for her.
“This for you. It very old but I think you find like it.” She had a necklace in her hands. It was an old, leathery string, wine red. On it was a small black ring, with a golden slit running through it. “This Dragon’s Eye amulet.”
“Thank you, but you don’t need to do this.” She insisted and I reluctantly accepted the gift. Then I gave Mrs. Wong a quick hug, since she wasn’t very fond of them, and she headed for the door. I slipped the necklace on as she stepped out. “Have fun!” She called. I smiled. She must have been excited, I had never heard Mrs. Wong be that loud before. The rest of the day went pretty quickly. A few customers came by, no one too troublesome, and for once I got to listen to the radio stations I liked. The store closed at six usually but around five thirty, my phone rang.
“Hello?”
“Hey, c-can you pick me up? Jake just… he just broke up with me.” It was my sister, she sounded upset. That wasn’t unusual for her but this sounded serious.
“Where are you?”
“Spring Park- by the swings.”
“Okay, stay where you are. I’ll be right there.” Mrs. Wong wouldn’t have minded me locking up early, especially under the circumstances. I emptied the cash register, placed the money in the safe under the old hour glass I liked, and locked all the doors. Then I got in my truck, an old Ford Ranger, and drove to Spring Park. I found my sister by the swings, like she’d said. “Hey, Amanda. You okay?”
“Sure…” The words sounded devoid of energy, listless. Somehow, I could sense that she wasn’t sad- just angry.
“What’s got you so mad?” I asked, sitting down in a swing. She took the swing next to me and looked into my eyes with her big, brown ones.
“It’s goddamn Jake. He just breaks up with me again and again and I just go back to him every time. He lies to me or sleeps with some skank and I just pretend like it didn’t even happen.”
“Amanda, everyone in the family’s told you what a jerk he is. I know this is harsh, but maybe the person you’re angry at is you. Why do you let him treat you like that?” Her face fell, she just looked down at the sand beneath her feet.
“I guess, I just don’t think I’ll find anyone else. When he’s good, he’s pretty good. I haven’t dated a lot. I worry I won’t find anybody else. Plus, I think it’s my fault since I won’t let him…um, you know.”
“Sleep with you?” I finished, uncomfortable.
“Yeah.” Amanda looked back down at the sand. She seemed insecure, something in her posture just told me. I caught her glancing at her chest, then at her lap, lastly, she crossed her legs, as though hiding something she were ashamed of. That was it! She was feeling unattractive, ugly.
“Sis-” I brought my fingers under her chin, raising her head to look at me. “You don’t need to worry about him. You’re beautiful, you’re funny, and you’ll find a guy who’ll treat you right.”
“I don’t even know what that means.” She glanced at me with, what, curiosity?
“You’ve never been on a good date before? Like dinner and a movie and a kiss goodnight?” I asked dubiously.
“Not without the guy making a pass or, you know, glomping my muffins.” She smirked.
“Agh! You couldn’t have phrased that any differently?” We laughed. “Tell you what, I’ll just show you. I’ll take you on a good date, then you’ll know.” I smiled at her.
“What? You’re my brother! That’s too weird!” She was fibbing, I could see she was excited. I called the house. I told our Mom that Jake had broken up with Amanda and I was going to take her out, get her mind off of things. She told me that was just like me, being sweet or whatever, and to be home by ten thirty. I told her we would.
“Follow me, Mademoiselle.” I said, taking my sister by the hand and helping her up. She giggled and I led the way back to my truck. I threw some junk out of the passenger seat and got the door for her. Then I got in, started the engine, and drove. I already knew exactly where our destination would be.
“Where are we going?” Amanda asked, pushing my shoulder playfully.
“Duh- surprise.” I responded, rolling my eyes at her. I got another push on the shoulder for that and had to check my direction to keep from swerving into oncoming traffic. Soon, we were at the best restaurant in the city.
“Oh my God, La Calombe! Wait, no! It’s too expensive! You can’t!” Amanda tried to protest but I could still see the excitement etched in every line of her body. I got out of the truck and got the door for her. “I’m not dressed nice enough! I look horrible.” My sister ran her hands along a tress of her hair, something she only does when she’s nervous. I helped her out and shut the door behind her, locking the truck with the push of a button.
“Amanda,” I said, resting my hand on her cheek. “You look beautiful. You deserve this. Now come on, I want some of those thin, little breadsticks.” I took my sister by the hand and led her to the door. A doorman let us in. I asked the maitre de’ for as nice a table as he had available, and gave him twenty dollars. I realized afterwards that that was probably the silliest, cheapest attempt at a bribe he’d ever received, but he seemed to understand the situation and brought us to a table at the center of the restaurant, directly beneath their massive, crystal chandelier.
Dinner was delicious, even if I couldn’t identify every dish. The string quartet sounded beautiful and Amanda and I were able to have one of the best conversations I’d ever had with my sister. She told me about how college entrance exams were worrying her, about how she didn’t want to be like everyone at school but didn’t want to be left out either, and how she would’ve rather been an artist than a journalist, but art majors didn’t make any money making actual art. Throughout every moment, Amanda was smiling and the crystal chandelier lit up her eyes with a thousand starry points.
When we left, I checked my phone, it said it was only eight twenty. “We still have two more hours. But, if you’d rather, I can take us home.” I was only playing, I knew she’d never agree to go home, but I needed to show her what a considerate, good guy would do.
“No! I don’t want to go home yet. I want to stay with you. This has been the best night I’ve had in… well, a long time.”
“Alright, I know what we can do.” We weren’t far from Lake Brinnegan. I knew a spot by the shore that would look great on a clear night like the one we had. I opened the door for Amanda and helped her in. As I leaned forward to make sure she was in all the way, I was surprised. I felt something warm and soft and wet on my cheek. Then it was gone. My fingers went to my cheek and my eyes to my sister. She’d kissed me.
“That’s your reward for dinner.” She smiled and after I recovered, I shut the door for her. It had been really expensive but I didn’t care, every dollar was well spent. I got in the truck and started the engine. We drove to the Lake in silence. Amanda knew the way, so it wasn’t a surprise, and I was too in shock over the kiss to pay attention to anything but the road. Amanda had never been the type of sister who kissed you, not even as a little kid. I was always a “yuck-o boy.” The kiss she’d given me had been quick, but not a peck. It had lingered for a moment. Did that mean anything? And more importantly, why did it matter to me? Nervous, I couldn’t even look at Amanda.
By the time we got to Lake Brinnegan, and pulled up to the shore in reverse, I had recovered mostly. I grabbed a slightly musty blanket from behind the passenger seat and we hopped out of the car. Amanda was already in the bed of the truck by the time I shut my door, there was no way I could’ve gotten to it in time to get it for her. I hopped up as well and spread out the blanket. The stars were all out and the moon was a silvery curve above the trees. I had chosen a spot for from the houses that dotted the lake, so we could see the sky perfectly and its flawless reflection on the water.
We laid down and looked up the stars. I clasped my hands behind my head and splayed my elbows out, relaxing at best as I was able. I wished I had kept pillows but that might have sent the wrong message to people who saw them. “Oh well.” I sighed, out loud by mistake.
“What?” Amanda asked as she wriggled around on the blanket, trying to get comfortable. I figured that now was as good a time as any to act out the clich?f naming stars.
“Do you see that star up there?” I asked, unclasping the hand furthest from her and pointing upwards.
“That bright one?” She asked sitting up.
“Yep, that’s Aurora Borealis.” I said. Amanda laughed out loud, losing it for nearly half a minute.
“That’s the North Star you bone head!” She snickered and laid down again, resting her head on my clasped arm. She snuggled up to me. I didn’t like it that it made me a little aroused. I wasn’t a total rookie but I hadn’t had many attractive girls “snuggle” with me. I managed to stay cool.
“You cold?” I asked nonchalantly.
“No.” I glimpsed her head turn towards me out of the corner of my eye. I turned to look at her. Our eyes met, each staring deep into the other. She was so beautiful and now she felt beautiful. I could see it in her slightly blushing cheeks, the corners of her lips, and especially in her gorgeous brown eyes. Yet there was more than that, something else, what was it? I felt her breath on my face. I leaned towards Amanda. What was I doing? She tilted her head as she came to me. Our eyes closed. What was it? Contact.
I felt her lips upon mine. They were soft and warm, like pillows after a good night’s rest. I gently pressed my own against them. I felt her sigh, felt her warmth breath exhaling. Every inch of my body tingled. I felt my head spinning and I only wanted more. I reached my free arm around and ran my hand through her hair, letting the silky threads cascade through my fingers. We moaned together softly. That snapped me back to reality. I broke the kiss off.
“Amanda, we can’t do this.” I said, as forcefully as I could. My breath was gone. I could still feel her on my lips.
“Why?!” She cried out. Every fiber of her body screamed distress, panic.
“You’re my sister. This isn’t right, it isn’t legal.”
“Tell me you care about that!” She asked me, her beautiful face coming so close to mine again. I could just- No! I turned aside, looking at the trees.
“I care about you. This wasn’t supposed to happen. I don’t want you thinking this is how all guys act.”
“That they’re sweet to me? That they listen to what I say and treat me right? That they act like they love me? I shouldn’t think that?! Right, of course, I should’ve known!” Amanda moved to hop out of the truck bed. I moved faster than I knew I could, catching her just above the elbow.
“Don’t go.” I whispered. I didn’t want to admit it, but I couldn’t lose her. I couldn’t take it.
“Why shouldn’t I? You just said you didn’t care.” Amanda spat back. She was trying to hide her pain behind anger. The pain was from shame. I thought it was from kissing me, her brother, but it wasn’t. She felt empty again, worthless. It was etched in the glint of the moon on her irises.
“I do care.” I said as loudly as I could.
“Sure, yeah, I’m your sister and all that. You want me to be happy and you love me and all that.”
“Amanda!” I yelled, surprising even me. I pulled her towards me and moved to her. As she spun, I placed my other hand on her waist and caught her, pulling her against me. Her eyes were wide with surprise, uncertainty, and hope. Hope most of all. “Amanda, I do love you. I love you so much.” I closed my eyes and pressed my lips against hers, all the while thanking God that I hadn’t missed.
This kiss was different from the first, there was passion. There was fire in the kiss. Our lips melded together and our moans echoed their movement. She pulled lightly on my upper lip and I pressed her against me, no longer caring that a certain part of my body had swollen rapidly. She released my lips and I immediately pressed against her, pushing her down onto the blanket. I rested my hands on either side of her and she slipped her fingers through my hair, pulling me down against her. I felt Amanda’s lips relax and I pushed my tongue between them. My sister’s moan only excited me more and I pressed further, finding her tongue and inviting it to dance with a flick of my own. We wrestled and twisted our tongues together, moaning louder and louder with each movement. Finally, we broke apart for air and I looked down at my sister, at Amanda.
She was breathing heavily, excited and aroused. She smiled at me and indicated for me to come closer with curling of her index finger. I leaned in and she placed her lips beside my ear, just grazing it in the most excruciating way. “I want to tell you something but it’s a secret. I’ll only tell you if you make me a promise. You have to swear to do something for me.”
“Anything you want, Amanda. I promise.” Perhaps I should have given the request more thought but I was so excited, so utterly out of my mind, that I would have said yes to anything she wanted.
“Okay, do you want to hear the secret now?” She pulled back and looked at me, her face taking on a serious expression. She was feeling something raw, something that she considered absolutely vital to her identity. I nodded gravely. She moved forward, just slightly, and looked deep into my eyes. “I love you.” I smiled and she followed my lead. I leaned down and with abandon kissed her again. I was surprised when she drove her tongue past my lips and deep into me. I moaned and brushed my hands down her sides as I rested on my knees. Amanda let out a long, throaty sigh and, grabbing my by the neck, pulled me on top of her and off my knees.
Our lips met again but I quickly broke away and found the nape of her neck. I flicked my tongue against her milky, flawless skin and elicited a noise from my sister. I repeated the action again and again, running my mouth up and down her neck, until my sister had dug her nails deep into my jeans and was grinding her hips against my member as hard as she could.
“Y-your promise!” Amanda choked out between moans.
“Mhmmm.” I murmured as I sucked on a particularly sensitive spot.
“AHH, y-you, I mean, AAH! I want you to do something NOW!” She cried out at the end as I flicked my tongue against the spot I had trapped between my lips. I grudgingly let go and looked at Amanda again.
“Anything you want.” She turned to face me, the same look of seriousness on her face once more. She pressed her hand against my chest, then slid it down, lower and lower, till she clutched my erect member. Amanda smiled again and her eyes took on the sexiest look I had ever seen.
“Make love to me.” She crooned and squeezed me. I grunted, it felt so good. I was done arguing but I wanted to make certain that it was what Amanda really wanted.
“You haven’t done this before, right? I mean, you’re a virgin?” She nodded, slightly bashful. “And you want me to be your-” Amanda cut me off with a kiss. I sighed and leaned into it. She began to rub up and down on me. I shuddered and allowed her to continue. I brought my hands to the edge of her shirt and, after a nod from Amanda, lifted it up. She arched her back for me, allowing me to raise it all the way to below her shoulders. She had beautiful breasts, enclosed within a pink, pushup bra. I felt myself shaking as I reached towards her chest for the first time. Amanda lay back, allowing me total access to her body. I slipped her right cup down, then held her breast. It was so soft, but firm and it filled my hand completely. I pinched her nipple and Amanda moaned for me while I slipped her other bra cup down. Soon, I was squeezing and twisting her areolas until Amanda was almost screaming. Wanting to drive her over the edge, I placed a knee between her legs, forcing her to grind against me. Next, I bent my lips down to her right breast and took her nipple in my mouth, flicking my tongue against the tip.
“AHHH! God, YES!” She screamed. I sucked harder, taking more of her breast into my mouth until I couldn’t take anymore. My tongue thrashed around, caressing every part of the breast. Once I felt her nipple completely stiffen, I switched. I repeated the process on her left breast and all the while, I felt the warmth of my sister frantically grinding against my knee. At last, I switched back to her right breast and took as much of it as I could into my mouth, all at once. I flicked my tongue against her again and again, squeezing her other nipple with my left hand, and lastly, I reached between her legs with my right and rubbed my finger tips against her at a blinding speed. “AH, DON’T STOP!” Amanda yelled. I sucked down, squeezed and rubbed as hard as I could, all at once. She was so close, then she tipped over the edge. “I’m CUMMING!!!” She screamed. Her back arched off the truck bed, and she held my head to her chest as her body convulsed and shook for nearly thirty seconds. As the orgasm passed, she fell against the blanket, exhausted. I lay down with her, and took her in my arms. She was glistening with sweat.
“That was- that was… oh my god, thank you so much. That was the best orgasm I’ve ever had. Did Leah teach you how to do that?” Leah was my ex-girlfriend. I shook my head, I had always just known. That, and porn was quite an education if one looked in the right places. “I love you.” She whispered in my ear.
“I love you too, Amanda.” I whispered back. I felt a hand rubbing at my crotch. “What are you doing?” I smiled at my mischievous sibling.
“I have to return the favor don’t I? Just, don’t be too disappointed if I’m not as good as you.”
“You’ll do great.” I smiled and lay down. Amanda undid my jeans and slid her fingers beneath the waist band. I lifted my hips and she slid the pants off, with a little wriggling and the removal of my shoes. Next, she yanked my boxers down impatiently, exposing my throbbing dick.
“Wow, it’s big.” She said, slightly awestruck.
“It’s not that big.” I smiled. I was a little above average but nothing freakish.
“It’s bigger than Jake’s.” Amanda added with a frown. Then she leaned down and licked up along my shaft. I grunted loudly, it felt amazing. I couldn’t believe I was doing this with my sister. “Mm, tastes better too.” She smiled. She rubbed her hands together quickly, and breathed on them, to warm them up. The she slid her fingers around my shaft, one by one, and pulled my cock up. I moaned at her touch. “Now, tell me what you want me to do.” She grinned down at me.
“You do whatever you’re comfortable with.” I smiled back at her.
“No! If you want me to do something, you tell me exactly what it is… and don’t hold back.”
“Amanda, I can’t-”
“Do it! You earned it and I know you want to or…” Amanda pursed her lips just above my head and let a small thread of drool fall onto it, like syrup. “Do you not want to see your sister swallow?” That pushed me over the edge.
“Amanda, suck my cock.” Amanda bent down and kissed my head, then moved up and down the shaft, licking every inch of my dick. She pursed her lips as tightly as she could and pressed them against my tip. Slowly, she pushed down harder and harder, it felt so tight, so incredible. I was amazed I hadn’t come yet. As the pressure became almost uncomfortable, I lost control and my hips bucked, thrusting my dick deep into sister’s mouth. Her eyes went wide with surprise but we were both moaning at the sensation.
Amanda paused, unmoving. I took the unspoken hint. “Suck it, Amanda. Bob up and down on your brother’s big cock.” She obeyed immediately. I watched her lips travel all the way up to the base of my head and then back down to an inch from the bottom of my shaft, as far as she could go. She lifted her lips and then took my cock again, going faster and faster each time, then wrapping her hand around the bottom of my shaft. She began pumping as her lips sucked down on me and her tongue coiled around my shaft like a snake. It was so good, I began pumping with her head, thrusting my dick deeper into my sister’s mouth with each dip. When I felt her start to moan, I knew I was close to cumming.
“A- Amanda, I’m close to- AH!” I moaned as my sister dove all the way to nearly the base of my dick. Just then, my phone started ringing. I managed to fish it out of my pocket but before I could answer, Amanda snatched it out of my hand and threw it to the far corner of the truck bed. “Amanda, it’s Mom-AH- AHH!” She bobbed her head up and down again and again, her nose brushing against my crotch each time. She cupped my balls with her free hand and kneaded them. “FUCK, AMANDA! YES!” At the verbal excitement, Amanda decided it was time to make me come. She squeezed my balls, pumped up and down on my shaft with her other hand and sucked hard with her mouth, as far down as she could be. “I’m CUMMING!!” I screamed to my sister and I felt myself begin to orgasm. Each rope of cum shot out like nothing I’d ever felt before. My hands were clenched in my sister’s hair and my vision swam. I fired cum deep into my sister’s mouth again and again. Nine, ten, and the shots just kept coming. By fifteen, they had died down slightly. I was done by the seventeenth. I collapsed against the truck bed, only barely noticing the ping of the voicemail alert.
I looked up and saw my sister with her cheeks full, looking down at me.
“You don’t have to-” I began but before I could finish, my sister had tilted her head back and swallowed my entire load. She showed me her empty mouth with pride and I took her in my arms.
“Was that good?” She asked.
“The best orgasm of my life.” I said awestruck, echoing what she’d said. Smiling, Amanda laid down beside me and for a minute we just held each other. Her eyes were so beautiful. I saw nothing but happiness in them. She was content, full of love, and with the desire to love. She was perfect. We were perfect. After a few minutes, I grabbed the phone, which was just within arm’s reach.
“Crap!” I exclaimed.
“What time is it?” Amanda asked as she kissed a trail down my neck.
“It’s nearly midnight!”I listened to the voice mail from Mom. She was not happy at all. She sounded upset and asked where we were, why we hadn’t come back, and to call or come home as soon as I got the message. I called her back and said that I had been helping Amanda feel better, which was true, had lost track of time, which was also true, and that it was completely my fault, which Amanda frowned at but which I felt was true. Mom was still angry when we hung up, but I had defused the situation for the most part. I kissed Amanda softly.
“Sorry, we’ll have to finish this another night. If you want to.”
“Of course I do. I love you and I can’t wait.” Amanda kissed my nose and giggled.
“Same here.” I whispered, and kissed her forehead lightly. Then we dressed, got in the truck, and drove home.

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Daddy Left Us Home Alone

David Larouse didn’t want to leave his two young girls home alone in the middle of the night. His boss insisted he come in and deal with an emergency that couldn’t wait. He locked the doors and thought things were safe when he drove away. He saw the garage door shut completely before turning the corner.