"Fuck me, Bert! I want it… want you! Stick it in my hole! I'm begging you! Do it! Do it to me now!"
Man, thought Bert, she's so fucking hot there's no telling what might happen. She might pee on herself.
That didn't appeal to him and he knew for a fact that such things were possible. Hell, anything was possible when it came to sex. He knew a girl who peed through her high-school formal when her boyfriend produced a dildo at the dance.
"Oh, baby, anything you want, you'll get," said. Bert. His red-tipped cock bobbed up and down in frenzied excitement as he leaned forward. His hands twisted wildly, massaging her tits, moving the hard nipples around like toggle switches. His cock was imbedded in her sucking hole and her flesh was squeezing him with glorious delight. Her hole was fantastic! He withdrew quickly with a corkscrewing motion of his butt and then forced his way back through the constricting cunt folds, hearing Alice go crazy as he fucked.
"Harder! Oh, harder!" she cried. She thrust her crotch at him, popping his 200 pounds up in the air. When he came slamming down her juicy cunt swallowed every inch of his dick. She wanted to scream, the sensation was so intense. She was being overwhelmed. "Hey, thata girl," Bert said, now sweating. His sperm rose up from his bloated scrotum and filled his rock-hard shaft. He had wanted to fuck forever, but that was clearly impossible. She was too hot, too intense, her cunt alive and vibrating like a piano tuner. He couldn't hold back even if he wanted to. Her cunt muscles squeezed him tighter, and tighter. Salive dribbled from her mouth, her head bobbing back and forth, greedy and waiting for his hot sperm. The fetid smell of sex filled his nostrils. The odor was pungent in the small room, thick and overwhelming as musk oil. He kept fucking her cunt hole, hoping for a miracle to happen. The sperm was filling up his cock and the scream readied on his dry lips. His hips flew into a rage of punching strokes. The soft, squishy cunt folds received him hungrily like a baby consuming a nipple.
"In, baby, in!" he shouted, drawing back, feeling his cock slide out of her grove for a final time and then as his blood raced frantically, he drove forward into her stinking, juicy void. Hard, clear and straight ahead he went. Deeper and deeper he sank, the flesh soft and warm all around him. He felt something snap, heard Alice scream and then his cock exploded. His sperm went shooting free of his tortured cock and he experienced the full exhilaration that comes with hard fucking.
It was the last thing he felt before the wood club came crashing down on his skull.
Alice looked up at the familiar face and at first refused to believe what was happening. Bert fell on her chest as his sperm shot into her cunt. The jarring explosion jolted her to the very core. She had been opened, really opened for the first time and her cunt was wet with Bert's come and Alice felt sensational. The man grabbed Bert roughly by the shoulder and pulled him away. Alice watched horrified; Bert's spurting cock popped from her cunt hole, denying her any chance at all of an orgasm. She had been brought to the very peak and left there. Her lips opened, formed an O, sucked in, ready to scream.
"Cunt!" he shouted hoarsely. "Stupid, perverted little whore of a cunt. I should kill you, you sick vile thing!"
He's insane, thought Alice. He continued cursing her, oblivious to her teeth, his hand drawing back to whack her a second time.
Alice was so scared she didn't know how to respond. Her cunt was unbearably hot, hot as coals in a live furnace. Maybe if I suck him off, he'll leave me alone, she thought. It was a wild, impetuous thing and obviously would not work in the situation.
"I'm going to teach you a lesson, sweetie," he said. Then with a flick of his hand she was spun over on her backside and a hand was put between her thighs. The stale smell of sex stayed in the air, and all-pervading smell. There was sperm on the table and her pussy squished about in the white goo. Her thighs rashed with goosebumps as the hand found her soft mound and gently fingered her oozing slot.
"I bet that drives you wild," sneered the man. Unknown to her, he carefully unbuttoned her pants and let them drop down to the floor. He had watched the two of them horsing around until his stomach made gurgling sounds and he felt sick. Alice had betrayed him. She was every bit the slut that her older sister was. It had to be a genetic trait, two girls just don't turn out bad like that. It was evil, pure and simple. Maybe the girl was possessed, he thought working his hard member between his fingers. His cock stem flinched under his guidance. Was he man enough to finish what he had planned. He snapped the circumcised cock head and felt the thrill of pain shoot back to his prostate. He worked his hand upward into the girl's backside until a finger rested nice and comfy between her butt cheeks.
Alice had an idea what was to happen. But she asked anyway. "Are you going?" she began.
"Bet your life," he finished. Then as if to answer his question he peeled back her cunt lips and worked his dick into the crease.
"I'm going to fuck you," he said, prodding her with his coarse male member. "And that will just begin our fun."
CHAPTER ONE
One complaint about living on the Strand was the fog. It rolled in around midnight and stayed until midmorning when the sun's warmth finally burned it off. The fog was a year-around pain in the ass; commuters drove at a snail's pace because visibility was knocked down to twenty feet.
Yet there was no better place to live in Southern California than the Strand. The small, conservative town was clear and tidy and the residents were stylish and athletic. There were no slums or ghettos, the economic picture being decidedly middle class. The Strand had two beautiful golf courses and an Olympic-sized swimming pool where the town's famous swim club practiced. Tourists flocked to the century-old hotel called the Strand, built during the pre-tax years of the Rockefellers and the J.P. Morgans. There were lots of attractions for the newcomers just as there was lots of recreation for the residents. If it weren't for the damn fog, the Strand would be heaven on earth.
Alice Dilly was, perhaps, the only one who didn't complain about the thick blanket of fog that covered the island. It was actually a thrill for her, riding her ten-speed through the hazy mist during the morning. It was a few short blocks from the Dillys' two-story house down to the swimming pool, a distance the girl covered easily in a few short minutes. The fog was a friend; it concealed her early-morning swims from the prying eyes of the community. Alice was up early when the fog was thickest and she coasted to the pool, the swirling white vapor wrapping her in a cool, thick cloud.
She had made her secret journeys to the pool after her sister Darlene had gone off to college. Alice was only a high-school sophomore, but her sister had been very close and when Darlene left, Alice was alone.
"You'll have to come up and see me," read one of Darlene's letters. "There are so many good-looking boys, you'll just flip." Alice had meant to go. She might even have the courage to talk to boys and maybe double date with her sister – if she could find the right man. But Alice had no car, and no friends to go with her. For weeks, Alice held onto her sister's letter like it was her ticket to freedom. But Darlene didn't write again, and the trip was forgotten.
Instead, Alice turned her attention to swimming, the one thing she was good at. And on the Strand that, was no mean achievement. The town had spent $10 million on the pool complex and hired Bert Anderson, a local boy who went onto the Olympics, to coach.
The Strand was a one-sport town and it was a stroke of luck that a shy, awkward girl such as Alice could turn out to be so graceful in the water. She was not as fast as Darlene had been, a fact which irritated her, but she was rapidly improving. The pool was a second home to her.