"What the hell's going on here?" came a loud, shocked voice.
The red-haired girl turned her bright, sparkling green eyes upward and saw her father standing in the door. Through her sex-numbed brain, she realized he never swore. That meant she was in a shitload of trouble. Big trouble. There was no way she could alibi out. She was obviously sucking on Michael's prick and that was all there was to it.
She was in big trouble.
CHAPTER TWO
Sheryle stood up and rubbed the smooth curves of her buttocks and winced at the pain. She fumed inside. Her father had spanked her like she was a small child. He had actually whipped her. She couldn't remember him ever having done that before.
To add insult to injury, he had grounded her for two months. He had refused to allow her to go out on any dates and made her go to her room immediately after supper. She rubbed her ass again, remembering the pain and hating her father more than she could imagine. Pulling the thin nightie closer to her trim body, Sheryle went to the window and looked out over the moon-drenched backyard. The ghostly images dancing in the light called to her. She had a desire to slip from the window naked through the yard, when she heard her father behind her.
"Get to bed," he ordered. "And don't stand in the window like that, you wanton whore. You'll have every stud in the neighborhood over here thinking you're in heat."
"Maybe I am," she snapped, angry at her father.
He spanked her ass again. He took her and applied his open hand to her naked ass until she was openly crying. She wanted to deny him the pleasure of seeing her tears, but the pain was too much – the pain and the humiliation. Sheryle was sixteen and a woman. This was the way you punished a small child, not a woman.
Her father left her, the door clicking soundly shut behind him. She glared and wondered what she should do. She picked up one of her shoes and threw it as hard as she could at the door. It relieved some of her anger, but not enough.
She paced the room, then vowed to go out and run naked in the backyard just to spite him. She hadn't done anything really wrong. She hadn't wanted Michael to eat her out like that. But when he had, she couldn't stop herself. She had to suck his prick. The sight of that mountainous rod of cockflesh had been more than she could stand. She'd had to suck and lick and kiss it. Nature had taken its course and she had responded in the only natural way she could.
"Hey, Sheryle, you there?" came the low whisper.
"What? Who's there?"
"Who do you think, dummy? This is Michael. Can I come in?"
She sat on the bed, making a face at the feelings raging through her body. Her ass still smarted from the second spanking her father had given her. But this time the warmth was changing. It didn't hurt as much as it turned her on. The nearness of his hand to her snatch had been nice, in a weird way. And now the well-spanked assflesh was tingling and turning her on. She could even feel her pussy begin to drool obscenely. Nothing she could do would stop the leak from her cunt. The more she tried, the worse it became.
Rushed and hot all over, she called out to Michael, "Sure, come on in. But keep your voice down. My old man's on the warpath." Her fingers drifted under her thin nightie and stroked over her red-thatched pussy mound. That felt so good she let her fingers slide lower, parting the puffy cuntlips and giving her even bigger jolts of stark pleasure. In a flash, she had her finger all the way up her cunt. It moved slowly, methodically, building her desires.
Michael would help her ease the sexual need she felt so strongly. He had lit her fires. The least he could do would be to help her quench her desires.
"God, I never thought he would come home so early," the youth said, dropping to the foot of Sheryle's small bed. "We could have gone out if I'd thought he would've found us."
"We didn't do anything wrong," she said defiantly. The finger sliding in and out of her cunt made her feel better.
"Nope, but tell him that. Wow, was he pissed!"
"Michael," she said softly, "will you fuck me now?"
"Now?"
"Yes, I need you so. I love you. I want you. I want that lovely prick of yours fucking me all the way up the cunt!"
"You didn't used to talk like that," the youth said, his breath coming in shorter, faster pants. She knew he was getting turned on by her words. Ste didn't understand what was happening but as she said it, she felt the intense sexual tensions in her own body.
She had to get laid now or go out of her mind with lust.
"To hell with that. Fuck me. I want you to fuck me till you rip me apart!"
"Nope, don't think I will. But I do see something that turns me on a lot," he said, gazing up at her tits spilling out of the front of the thin nightie. He was a tit man. He loved the sight of naked, lush mounds of womanly titflesh. He could feel his cock getting harder and harder just thinking about sucking on one of those meaty globes.
He didn't really believe her when she said she wanted him fucking her. The girl might think so but she would cry out and bring her old man running. If he could get her out of the house, then he would fuck her cross-eyed. But not here. Just the idea of sucking her titties while her father was on the premises made it exciting.
He reached out and touched her tits. Surprised to find the flesh quivering like jello in an earthquake, he took a firmer grip. Squeezing down hard, he began rotating the twin peaks in opposite directions. He wanted her to think he was going to rip them off her chest.
The flesh flowed like putty under his fingers. Intrigued, he squeezed down so hard the white, doughy flesh popped out from between his fingers. He tried to remold her tits into a new and excitingly different form. Whenever he turned loose, the resilient titflesh always sprang back into the succulent cone of white boob.
"Ummm, Michael, that's so nice. I love the feel of your hands all over my body. Keep doing it." She moaned softly and felt her muscles going limp in reaction. She collapsed flat onto her bed. The girl didn't even realize that her legs spread in involuntary invitation to him.
In spite of her bold words, she was glad he hadn't tried to fuck her. She wanted to get even with her father and that sounded like the way to do it. But she was frightened of having such a huge cock thrusting in and out of her tight little cunt. Her finger barely fit in. Michael's monstrous prick would be like trying to stuff in a telephone pole.
Besides, the feel of his hands stroking and crushing flat her tits was so indescribably wonderful that she couldn't imagine anything being finer. When he caught her hard little nipples between thumb and forefinger, she almost came.
"You like that a lot, don't you?"
"I love it. Don't stop. Keep fondling my jugs. Your touch is like electricity. I feel so alive inside!"
His hands stroked up and under her pendulous tits. He cupped them for a moment, then shoved them together. She moaned out loud, biting her lower lip to keep from screaming. She rubbed her thighs together and felt the thick flow of her pussy fluids. She wanted to come but was afraid of letting herself go. Her father couldn't find them again, not like this. He would kill both of them.
"God, you've got sensitive tits. Just doing this makes you hot, huh?"
She came when he managed to rub one nipple across the other one. The throbbing little mounds of nipple were super-sensitive. When he crushed her tits enough to push them together, she exploded inside. His lips mashed onto hers to keep her from screaming. She felt his tongue slither into her mouth, tangle with her tongue and then dart back.
She followed with her own. Soon, they were side by side on the bed, kissing deeply, his hands moving restlessly all over her tits. She wanted more. She thrust out her chest so that her left tit pressed hotly into the youth's body. Rubbing up and down made her acutely aware of her own needs. Her legs circled around one of his legs and she pulled herself closer. She began rocking back and forth, the coarse denim of his pants leg dragging over her aroused cuntlips.