How hollow and empty her words sounded! Yes, she must have wanted a man to touch her like that for a long time, to fuck her! What a terrible thing to admit!
"And we ain't through yet, baby. You're on call, understand?" Tommy said, crawling off the couch and fishing around the floor for his Levi's. Sharon blinked, rolling half over and peering heavy-lidded at the young stud.
"What… what do you mean?"
"Just what I said. You're on call, twenty-four hours, like a nurse," Tommy said, chuckling at his choice of words as he slid into his jeans, shoving his softened cock back in through the fly and zipping up. "I wanna get fucked, I give you a call. You're listed. You just come runnin' over here when I want a little action, that's all."
"Oh!"
Sharon couldn't believe this was happening to her. She wanted to scream out something to him, tell him exactly what she thought of huh. But what did she think of him? He had hurt her, degraded her, raped her. But she had loved the feeling, enjoyed having his prick reaming through her cunt, relished the feeling of having him brutalize her before the rape.
"Now, damn it, get the fuck outta here before my old man comes in and wants to fuck you himself," Tommy ordered, reaching down, scraping up her dirty bikini suit, then throwing it into her face.
Sharon didn't need much encouragement. Still shaky from the ordeal, she managed to slide her legs off the couch, step into her bottoms, then grab the torn tops and hold them as best she could over her tits.
"Go out the side. See you soon, baby," Tommy said, smiling cruelly at her as he slapped her firm asscheeks.
Sharon let out a little squeal, relishing the cool air she felt against her flesh as Tommy opened the door for her. Clasping one hand over her mouth, fighting down the desire to break down and sob right there, Sharon rushed front the garage, looking nervously from side to side to make certain no one saw her. Sweat and cum streaked her body as the young girl rushed over the grass, past the concrete driveway and into the bushes. There, just a few feet in front of her was the back door. In a moment, Sharon found herself in the safety of her mother's kitchen.
"Oh, my God!" she moaned.
Halting for a moment, the young girl leaned heavily against the refrigerator, sobs shaking her body as she thought of what had happened. He had hit her, shoved her around, knocked her to the floor, then dragged her to that awful couch. And that hadn't been enough. No, he had to degrade her with that rat-tail file, playing with her cunt with that thing before… before tearing away her cherry with a thumb, then shoving his fat, long prick into her and how she had loved it! Oh, God, that was the confusing, horrible thing which Sharon couldn't understand. Through it all, the girl had enjoyed every instant of the ordeal.
"Dear God!" Sharon sobbed.
But there was no time for her to worry about that now. Glancing wearily up at the kitchen clock, Sharon realized her mother would be home soon. No, she had to clean up, to pretend everything was normal. And that would give her time to think, time to come to terms with what had happened to her and what she would do.
The hours dragged by that afternoon and evening. Janice cooked a small dinner, then served her silent daughter, eyeing Sharon and wondering why the normally vivacious girl was suddenly so quiet. The teen played with her food, shoving her fork around the plate listlessly, washing it down with milk, then asking to be excused. Was it the flu? Was it something else Janice felt she should know about?
An attack of guilt made her stomach tense as she gathered up the dinner plates to carry them into the kitchen. There in the doorway, she stopped, catching, the reflection of herself in the kitchen window. Yes, she was attractive, very attractive, as pretty as her daughter. Hank went after her, got her. Perhaps someone had landed Sharon, as well.
"No, what am I thinking of?"
Janice pursed her lips together, shaking her head from side to side as if to cancel that horrible thought. No, the fault of sex lay with her, not with Sharon. The girl was too inexperienced to be having an affair with men just yet. For heaven's sake, she had just put her dolls away only months ago… or so it seemed! No, Sharon wasn't plagued with problems of sex… thank God!
Janice felt a nervous shiver ripple up and down her back as she drew the dishwasher door down to slip the utensils inside. Inexperienced. She had been that way at one time, a young girl who knew nothing, except for the vague, veiled tales her mother had spoken of the night before her marriage. How sheltered her mother must have been during all those years with her father. How had they ever enjoyed themselves? Her own marriage had taken off slow. It was only with Jack's patience and kindness that she had finally learned about climax, about all the various positions that brought so much pleasure.
Closing the dishwasher and turning it on, Janice folded her arms over her tits, feeling the warmth of the cleansing water through the drawer radiate through her dark-blue shorts. Jack. There was a lover: kind, generous, hot. Then the image of Hank drifted into her mind, pushing Jack's face away. The smile dropped and a shiver made her flesh crawl. That monster, that… that horrible man! And yet he had touched something in her, struck a chord that made her body and soul tremble with delight.
Walking slowly from the kitchen, Janice waved one hand in front of her as if she could erase all that had happened to her. She had encouraged him to come over. Yes, that was true. He was right to accuse her of that. When the Harringtons had moved in, Janice saw right away that Mrs. Harrington was in no, shape to satisfy her husband. She seemed more a reclusive, sick nun than a wife. And Hank, well, he was crude, vulgar, but vital, every inch of him radiating masculinity. And there she was, widowed, wanting the touch of a man so much, the touch Jack had taught her to desire with every ounce of her being. Yes, she had purposely wagged her ass around that yard, wearing as revealing an outfit as possible without causing an outright scandal. She had seen the disapproving looks from nearby neighbors who guessed her scheme. But Mrs. Harrington didn't seem to mind. Indeed, she seemed relieved for the attention Janice was receiving around the house. Then came that fateful night when Hank took her into the garage and… the rest was history. But only afterward did Janice realize the truly sadistic streak running in him, a streak that soon took over every action. Now she was trapped, cornered by him and her own sexuality that wanted more of his kind of lovemaking!
"I need a drink," she breathed to herself, walking a little unsteadily into the living room. He had threatened to fuck her daughter.
Was that bravado, or had he really had his eye on her? Sitting on the tall, leather-covered bar stool, Janice thought of that as she reached for the bottle of vodka and poured herself a tall, cool vodka tonic. She realized she was feeling something like possessive jealousy as she picked up her drink and took a long swallow. The burning sensation down her throat seemed to calm her nerves somewhat. Jealousy? That was absurd. No, she was more concerned about her daughter's safety, about having Sharon exposed to the same kind of horrors she both feared and wanted.
God, another attack of horniness. She hadn't been to bed with Hank for three days. That was something of a record with them. After that night in the garage, he had been coming over regularly. Either that, or she would slip out without Sharon's notice, tiptoeing through the bushes over to the garage, then fucking him on that horrid little sofa in the corner. How she feared that his son or wife would suddenly barge in and find the two of them in a wild embrace. It was only last night that he revealed his true colors, beating and roping her, and telling her there would be more in store. More?
Janice took another sip of her drink, listening to the light tinkle of the ice against the glass. It was then she realized, that her fingers were trembling. With excitement, with anticipation? Another sip, this one calming her nerves even more.