Now the girl's resolve mocked her. There she was, crawling in the middle of the night on Venice Beach, this unknown biker undressing, getting ready to brutally rape her!
"Wonder if you're the type who likes to get worked over before gettin' fucked," he muttered, the ends of his lips curling up.
"Oh, please, please."
Her whining voice seemed to infuriate him as well as excite him. She saw his hard-on pressing against the front of his trousers. He stared at her hard while she trembled, terrified under him.
"The name's Mike. A girl should know the name of a dude that's gonna fuck her," the biker said. In an instant, he brought one hand down, slapping her hard across the side of her head.
Christina screamed as the force of the blow sent her back down onto the sand.
"Had an old lady up in Oakland who dug this kinda thing. Shit, she wanted to be tied up and kicked around before I stuck my dick into her. Sometimes she was so hot after I worked 'er over, she almost cried when I fucked 'er," Mike said, grabbing her by the forearm and rolling her back onto her ass.
Only now was Christina aware of a distinct sexual thrill mixed with her growing terror. Her pussy was getting hot, tight and itchy as she suffered this biker's abuses. Was he right? Had something in her manner, in her walk told him she was someone who enjoyed pain? It was a new, horrible idea. This thrill was intensified by the growing fear she felt.
Mike let her cry for a second, rubbing his hard-on with one thumb. His eyes studied her small body, her small hips, those large tits barely visible on either side of her protecting arms.
Then he began undressing. Christina watched as he unzipped his fly. He flipped the button holding his pants to his waist, spreading the opened halves of his Levi's widely apart.
The moon had once more gone behind the clouds and the girl could see only varying shades of black in front of her. Still, she was aware of a large, tubular object swinging out toward her. The girl felt a rush of warm air flow from his crotch.
"Oh!"
Mike was thick and long. The young woman inched back, her eyes growing wider as she surveyed the fat long dick jerking in front of her. Christina had never seen anything that big before! Her lower jaw slackened, her lips forming an "O" while a cold sweat broke out on her forehead.
"Like to suck cock, eh?" Mike taunted, scratching his crotch and making his dick swing up and down like a branch in a storm.
"No!"
Suck cock? He was sick, demented and perverted to think she'd do something as horrible as that. The girl sobbed, her fists clenched and pressed against her thighs. Christina kept on scooting back, her asscheeks making a double row in the sand. She felt grains of sand falling uncomfortably into her bikini bottoms.
Yet, in spite of her horror and revulsion, the girl felt her clit swell to its full heat and hardness. It was as hard as his cock, she thought to herself. The swampy warmth between her legs radiated up to her belly, making her tits swell up against her hands. One part of her wanted him to touch her, feel her, making her twist and moan with sexual excitement.
"Sure you do. Betcha you like to fuck 'til you can't piss for a week," he said, wiping the spit from his mouth with the back of one hand. He was enjoying this, watching her cringe under his cruel, obscene words while he played with his exposed cock. Christina tried to move her eyes away from that horrible object. But they remained riveted to his large, throbbing cock. She stared at his fat nuts now screwed tightly up against his crotch. She wanted to touch him, to feel his prick with her fingers. Her pussy was suddenly filled with a wild sensation of heat and lust.
Christina sobbed again, trying to fight down this strange, terrible feeling that had taken her over. How could she be this excited? How could she, a nice girl, a good moral girl, the pride of her family feel this attraction to this demented pervert?
Christina was dizzy with fright. The biker smiled more broadly, shoving his pants down to his boot tops. The hot smell of his crotch washed over her.
The young woman felt her own sweat trickle down from under her arms. The coding ocean breeze tightened her moist scalp.
"Yeah, honey, you're gonna be one hell of a hot fuck," Mike said, taking another step forward. Christina whimpered, shoving her hands in the sand and scooting back another foot.
"No, don't touch me! Please, don't. I never ever had a man before," she said shamefacedly. Why was she ashamed? Why should this admission of virginity make her feel lowly in front of this scum?
"Yeah, they all say that, 'til you shove your dick in and find out they've been had by half the county," Mike said with a sneer.
Christina watched his big cock waving from side to side, striking his leather jacket with each step he took. In the dim light, she could see the thick coating of body fur covering his chest muscles and flat belly. His half-naked body made her clit tingle. As more fuck oil seeped from her slit, her thighs tightened and shuddered. Sand working its way into her ass-crack made Christina realize she was rubbing her thighs together to relieve the building pressure in her cunt. Her entire body was alive and quivering with passion.
"Gotta tenderize you fast."
Mike raised his hand again. Then the arm sliced down, cutting the shadows fleeting across the sand. Christina screamed, her shriek drowned out by the pounding of the heavy surf only a few feet behind her.
"Ohhhhhhh!" she wailed.
"Bitch," he snarled, striking her across the face again. The girl rolled onto her side, both hands still covering her tits while her knees jerked up to her belly. She coughed, some sand and dirt having clogged up her mouth.
"Don't touch me!" she screamed.
Mike was on top of her now, straddling her thighs while trying to knock away her hands from her tits. The girl fought like a soldier, biting, kicking and scratching at his face while he tried to steady her.
"Stop it, you Goddamned little cunt or I'll beat the livin' shit outta you!" he growled, curling his callused fingers into two fists and holding them threateningly in front of her face.
Christina realized she could do nothing to stop him from raping her. He'd knock her unconscious, and then God only knows what he'd try with her. With a groan, the young teenager gave in.
"That's better," he muttered, knocking her hands away from bet tits and staring at the two white mounds under him. "Nice tits. Good and fat and tight," he said, rubbing his fingers lightly over her rubbery red nipples.
Christina tried not to feel anything. Closing her eyes, she bit her lower lip, telling herself nothing was happening. She tried to ignore the hot, tight, itchy ache burning in her pussy.
"Ohhhhhhh!" she cried, turning her face away from Mike.
"Hot, huh, baby? Hot for my dick? Man, bet you're hot enough down there to fry up a hundred cocks," he taunted, rubbing his fingers over her nipples faster. Her tits jiggled and bounced as he inched up closer to her face. Already, the blonde teenager could smell the bleachy aroma of his unwashed crotch. Was he going to make her suck that thing? The girl's heart skipped a beat.
"Don't move," he said threateningly, reaching down and cupping her tits, moving then in from the side while bending down and resting his dick on her upper chest. Christina held her breath, unsure of what he was going to do.
"Ohhhhh!"
Mike pushed her tits toward the center of her chest until his dick was nestled between them. He didn't stop until the hard red tips of both tits were shoved against the head of his cock. Christina had never heard of this being done before, not even from her more "experienced" girlfriends who were free to offer their advice at the drop of a hat.