Happy Birthday

On your birthday, after dinner, you, your parents, and your sisters gathered in the living room to have you open presents. There were the usual, the Swatch watches and a dark blue turtleneck, and then Dad took you to the garage. Of course you knew what he was going to do but it was special after all the waiting and expectation, and even then you didn't think you'd be so affected. There was your convertible, gleaming ivory white, and your father opened the driver's door. A sweep of his hand and you slid in, whereupon he dangled the key ring for your grasp.

"Go ahead, start her up," he encouraged. And it did, a nice assertive American jump to the sound of the engine coming to life. Then Dad indicates the convertible switch, which you turn, and sure enough the gears and levers swing into action, raising the canvas up behind, over, and down neatly in line with the windshield, enveloping you into in its comforting cocoon.

"Oh Daddy!" you exclaim, supremely happy, jumping out and hugging him. "No girl should be without one," he says and you laugh and kiss on the cheek.

Now, a month later, you've done your part at the Motor Vehicle Department and the convertible is yours to drive as you like, where you want. You take it to school to the appreciative looks of those you know and those you don't, student and staff, gearheads and fashionistas, because plainly you have a classic, stylish, outgoing, versatile, and powerful car, whose attributes match your own.

That night you drive to the Pathmark for another of shift of keeping the kids safe in their playhouse. It goes smoothly, no one suffocates in the cage of plastic balls and you get in some interesting reading in the New Yorker, which you'd finally taken up and realized that guy Arthur was right. Pretty opinionated sometimes but he listened well and had some pretty good ideas. No word from him in a while, wonder what's up?

You check out, say your goodbyes to your boss and the odd co-worker and head for your car in the back lot where employees park. No one else gets out when you do, but it's reasonably well lighted. Needless to say you're very surprised when I appear from around the back of your car just as you're about to unlock the door.

"Long time, no see, Anne," I say, striding swiftly toward you and before you can react I grab your wrist, twist it behind it you where I grab your other arm and handcuff them together.

"Happy belated Birthday, sweetness, but I had to wait for you to get that car, didn't I? But no regrets, this night will worth the wait." I move in and embrace you against the door and give you a firm and penetrating kiss, my tongue sliding decisively between your parted lips, my hands sliding under your unzipped jacket, one running up and around your back, the other dropping and rubbing the firm cheeks of your buttocks. All of this is over your turtleneck and pants but shortly, as the kisses continue my hands are now inside your clothing, sliding smoothly on your warm soft skin, inside your bra straps, along and then under your panty's waistband. It's all nicely arousing when I break it off and pull you to the back of the convertible.

"This is your birthday rape fantasy, Anne," I say, "And because I can't having you screaming in case this isn't what you had in mind, this is to shut you up. Close your mouth."

"But--" you begin to protest and down comes the duct tape over your oh-so-kissable mouth. I pull at the fastener on your pants and pull the zipper down. O God, Yes! you think as I spin you round and push you down over the trunk. I move your jacket to the side and begin pulling your pants down while kicking your feet apart.

"My, aren't you a sight, Daddy's little girl cuffed and bent over her bitchin' Pontiac, lacy little panties covering two moons? Let's see just how full they are."

I hook my thumbs on the waistband and push them down to your knees. They curve splendidly under the sodium lamps.

"To put it crudely, Anne, you have a great ass, a spankin' ass. And I bet you're dying for one, aren't you? Do I have time before the next worker shows up?"

There's 10 p.m. shift change, you realize, and you shake your head no, your body tingling already in anticipation. Next you hear my zipper peeling apart and feel my fingers sliding under your butt, tickling the hairs you take such trouble to crop. I'm feeling for your slit, an action that you reflexively respond to by cocking your hips back and your butt up, your lips, already sweating, enveloping my fingertips. I respond in turn by pushing three of them deeper inside you.

"Why Anne, you rape slut, you're already wet. That takes the half the pain out, but it will double your pleasure." I wriggle my digits in your cunt, making you writhe, the ball of heat building inside you, and then pull out position my cock at the notch of your pussy.

"Real rapists have to worry about DNA but I get to ride you bareback. Of course, real rapists don't give their victims morning after pills, either." You feel the spongy tip running up and down your slippery lips, and then, as you push your butt out again, I thrust, jamming up into the heart of your cunt, as far as I can go. You may be warmed up but that was rougher than you expected, as is the pace of my withdrawal. Slam! again, driving you into the trunk lid. You wince and stare at the canvas of the convertible top, peering up and through the thick plastic sheet of the rear window, staring past the shadows and steering wheel to the brick wall of the store through the windshield. It's not much to look at and you can't shout or grunt or cry. All you can hear is the distant hum of traffic on the other side of the shopping center, the whine of an untuned lamp, and the thump of your hips bumping rhythmically against the back of your car as I fuck your deliciously helpless body.

You are helpless, your hands locked behind your back, the freedom of your legs limited by the ring of clothes around your knees, your ass exposed in the cool night air under impersonal industrial lighting, you are being fucked, hard too, my hands firmly gripping your hips, in an anonymous parking lot.

What a turn on! So you respond to my full, long, relentless thrusts with an upthrust of your butt, making me drive your mons even harder into the now-warm, white-painted, sheet metal of the trunk lid. You're buzzing inside as one of my hands moves to the middle of your back, pressing your breasts in their bra cups onto the trunk as well, and your nipples, already ripe, harden and swell with the pressure.

And of course there's the possibility that someone could drive up or walk out and see this guy fucking this girl doggy style over the back of a car, raising the adrenaline rush in both of us. I'd like to do you like this all night, and I will, but not here. So I look down at your prostrate body shaking as I ram into it, treating you like an object, a veritable fuckhole, which has its own visceral appeal, and let myself go, let the tension rise in my balls with each repeated bang against your ass, feel the nerve endings in my knob and underside begin to fry with the oh-so-sweet, flaming, slippery compression of your cunt. My balls tighten, the nerve endings begin firing as the friction turns from pleasure to pain and I begin to spurt, my thrusts shorter and sharper as the shots of sperm blot the far end of your vagina.

You in turn are having your own little orgasm, hearing my grunts, stabbing my pleasure deep inside you. You're an object but an object of desperate need, my need to fuse myself to you as closely as possible in an act of twisted intimacy. Your helplessness, your sensitivity to your submission, your gift complement the receipt of my need and the ball pulsing at your clit radiates throughout your groin and gently explodes. You shake and shiver on your car, sweat beading on your back and chest as I continue thrusting.

We gradually draw to a stop, I pull out, and turn you around to push you to your knees. My cock, still thick but drooping and dripping, hangs before your face. My hand tugs your head up and pulls the tape from your pouting lips. You wince and look up with those wide blue eyes, mouth parted.

"Now, lick me clean, birthday slut," as I slide my prick's dripping, slimy length between your lips. You open wide and gobble me, your tongue laving the gooey, slightly salty sperm off my cock. I hold your head and begin fucking your face as I harden again under your attention.

"C'mon, Anne, sweetie, open wide and swallow." You gag as my knob hits the back of your mouth, catch a breath as I withdraw and gulp as I jam myself down your throat.

"Oh, honey, that's even tighter than your cunt. Keep it up, baby, and maybe I'll shoot soon." You cough and gasp, grabbing another breath before your nose presses again my trimmed triangle of pubic hair. Your vagina, your mouth are just hot, tight holes for my pleasure, and even as you deal with the discomfort, my cock head abrading your throat, the pavement grinding against your knees. To our surprise, my sex responds again, my balls tighten by your chin and I begin to jerk my hips in short strokes, giving you no time to react between thrusts.

"Unh, unh, unh," I'm reduced to grunts, my cock shooting blanks down your spasming throat. It's over shortly and I pull out, folding my limp member back inside my boxers before zipping up my pants. You kneel there, coughing.

"You tell anyone about this, I'll have to spank you," I say, before pulling you up, and unlocking the handcuffs. You lean on my shoulders, breathing heavily, your pants and panties now down around your ankles, your crotch, thighs, and mouth a sticky mess. You look up, eyes shining with gratitude. "Now, now, don't get all excited all over again..." I massage your wrists, hug you close, and kiss you once again hard and deeply, sucking the breath from you before whispering,

"Now pull yourself together and drive home. Do you want to find you like this? Imagine explaining yourself: ‛Teenage Girl Found Masturbating Behind Pathmark.' If Daddy didn't spank you, you know I would." And with that I'm gone, leaving you to do just as I ordered before unlocking the door and slipping inside your cocoon to replay the events of closing time again and again until you fall soundly asleep that night.