Proud

"Say about the fuck ya got for me. No more sweet girl, momma's dearest angel." Her reaction was a surprise.

"Leave my momma outa this!" She was seething; the anger would be useful in her degradation. So I let it slide.

"OK, bless your loved ones—say the dirty things you gotta have."

Her voice, indignant, suddenly stronger, took a harsh unyielding tone that did wonders for my cock, "You're going to fuck me, fuck your whore, nail this slut's pussy."

"Work your clit with your thumb."

"What?"

"Rub that button you ain't 'sposed to touch. Rub it lightly." When she did, her eyes closed and her face took on a rapt expression.I can control her pleasure, too. "You like it." The firm statement got to her, for she colored more darkly. I saw her start to shake her head, but she must've known what I say in her eyes, for she stopped.

The python was pricking up his ears, "Time for three, honey, all the way. Leave the rubbing." She fumbled and looked mighty uncomfortable; the third finger had only entered past the first knuckle. "Yes, you're gonna have to hurt yourself. Or do you want some help? Lick all three and shove them in." She licked and was really trying; I slapped her breasts to wake up her senses. "Twist them around! Jam the fingers in!" Tears were in her eyes; her fingers glistened from the juice in her pussy, but they all wouldn't quite fit.

"Just fuck me," she said, in a level tone. No reservation. An order to save her pride.

Her mind seemed to have latched onto a Rape Scene with a basic fuck she'd just give to me. Simple, like in those "Come Out Safe" magazine articles. She was set up. Show time.

Hurriedly I bundled my coat into a pad and put it on top the rock. I half dragged her over next to it. "Here's what you're gonna do after you take off the mini. You're gonna fuck yourself with your whole goddamn hand." I was jolted by a crazed energy. There was an almost physical taste of power in my mouth. "Bunch up the tips of your fingers and thumb of your right hand, all of them. That hand goes on the bundle, with your fingers pointing up. You're gonna sit on 'em." The rock and the upward pointing fingers would be a kind of obscene phallic altar.

"How?"

"Lie back and support yourself with your left hand, arch your back and lift up that ass. Then lower your cunt onto your fingers, keeping them stiff. Sit on 'em."

"It won't work."

"It's gonna. You'll open for me. Here, I got something for your hand." I produced a jar of Vaseline from my pocket, opened it.

"Shove your fingers in the jar, get lots on them, and do as I told you." Her fingers prepared and in place, it took some maneuvering to get her ass off the ground, and above them, over the rock, but she was as lithe as a gymnast. Her butt well up, she lowered herself onto the slippery fingers; there was a yelp of surprise as she was unavoidably impaled under her own weight. Looking surprised, she moaned as the fingers disappeared almost up to the widest part of the knuckles; the cunt lips stretched out real nice.

Her face contorted; she squirmed, and so she went down further, right to the thickest portion of the knuckles. She looked intent. The sensations must have been novel, then made her ashamed. So pumped, she probably didn't feel any pain. "Aren't you a sight," I said. So this is what it feels like to direct a senseless happening! She continued to blush, then appeared to get into the experience, looking off in the distance, saying nothing.I've crossed some line, passed my dread with what I've just let loose. Chelsea started something that I'll finish right her.

Now the snake was up again and she saw that. Plain—no, triumphant—lust jumped up in cock, belly and brain. She was saying nothing. "Well are you gonna hand fuck yourself like this for the next hour?"

Words seemed stuck in her throat, so I stood up and pressed down on her upper thigh with my foot; she cried out, and the tears came down. "The knuckles! I'm splitting open! Whatever you want."

"What I want?" I yelled; she was making me crazy; I pushed my foot down on her, hard, and the whole hand slipped past the outer ring, and in. Her face collapsed into a look of utter shock and incomprehension.I can smell triumph. It's near.

"You should see ya now, proud bitch, handballing your own snatch."

She hesitated, then said quietly, "I'm doing what you want. I just don't understand."

"You're gonna fuck yourself like this for a bit and beg me," I said.

There was silence, then more tears. "OK, I'll beg you. Please, just do what you want."

"Proud bitch, this is about whatyou want. 'Cuz if you don't want it, you'll walk away with your pride—"

"And that's not gonna happen." She completed my sentence perfectly. Her eyes locked onto mine, melting. "You make me want to crawl under the dirt. Like my step-dad. Oh Lord."

"Ya just can't tell about his plans! Better to call for your momma." The put-down registered in her face. "If you think it would do any good."

"You're a real ignorant mouth. She cares. "

"She really cares, and your little handfuck would impress the hell outa her!"

The bitch was steaming; had no snappy comeback in her position. After a few moments, "So you've taken me down and you're gonna fuck me." Self-respect seemed to be slipping away.

"No, Ms Piec'a Meat, you're going tofuck me."

"What's goin' on?"

"Say what kinda fuckin' you want to do, damn cunt. Or you'll be friggin' yourself all afternoon."

"I'll fuck your cock in my horny bitch slit, honey...." Strong stuff, like a street 'ho tryin' to get a guy off before he's got his pants down. Fierce and slutty words full of her anger, "I'll fuckin' make you spew in this evil gash, you sonovabitch." At first, the words seemed foreign, didn't sound genuine, despite their force. "I'll fuck you while you ream this rotting hole."Great dirty talk. Answer her thrust!She'd started as a 'do me' victim. Now, spellbound, I thought,"Here's this frenzied fucker without a bit of self respect. I'm the author of it. I direct the show and pull the strings. This is how it feels! A fiercer thrill than I'd ever known raced through my guts and into my erect cock.

I was ready. "Lift your butt off, slowly pull out those fingers, move off the rock and lie back on the ground." She eased her hand out, leaving a twat without secrets, further open than ever before. "Pull your hole wide open and tell me what you want with this cock." The fuck would happen now. She knew it and composed herself, heedless of the dark.

Lying back, she drew aside the lips, all stretched from the handfuck, and opened the pink gash. Savage words. "Jam that big cock in here, motherfucker, into this slimy cunt."

I kneeled between her legs and drove the hard snake into her with one finger alongside to make a close fit in that stretched twat. So tight, she winced, but didn't do much; probably thought she could just let it happen.She's back into her comfortable little mental wonderland, I thought. "There'll be another finger or two in you if you don't start fucking me like you want it. Do me, honey, like it's your guy's cock."

She woke up from her autopilot: "Yes, OK." She started thrusting her hips.

"Talk, you bitch!"

"Fuckin' ram me; real hard, tear my cunt, shoot your load in my hot twat." Intense; yet cold, shameless. Pleased, I removed my finger from her pussy but kept jamming my cock in hard. She yelled all kind of things, 'motherfucker this and that,' ' I hump you in this slick twat etc.' Not any kinda virgin talk; but like a 'ho using the words to make the guy come, get it over with, while she stayed like ice.Her stupid formulas.Because I'd given the snake his exercize the hour before, the dumb cunt would not be bringin' me off in any hurry.

"Work that pussy. Go with it, cunt, you're in the groove. Keep it up."

Things are going so fine.I found the old mystery was dissolving. Crap that could not be explained no longer baffled me. A picture of the last time with Chelsea, flashed through my mind. I remembered.

*=======================

For dinner Chelsea had dressed in her best. Stylish light blouse and fine dark leather miniskirt. She'd put candles on the table and cooked my favorite, stuffed quail. I had three of the tasty morsels.

Afterwards, having thanked her, I was walking away from the table, and she said, "Now," meaning she wanted to get laid. I stopped and turned toward her.

She dropped to her knees and I helped with the fly. "I'm gonna get you so hard, lover. Best blow job in the east side, ya know." So sure of herself. She took the limp dick right in her mouth, her hand working the base. Nothing. Unbuttoning her blouse, she revealed the tiny nipples on the flat expanse. I must have given her a "what is this?" sorta look, for she seemed to get the picture. "Lie on the rug, here, I know what you need. I got some pussy for you." I lay down there while she took off her panties and pushed up her miniskirt.

She half kneeled, half-sat with knees on either sid'a my head—a cunt hovering above me—and leaned over and continued the suck. For me she'd shaved off mosta its hair except a tiny triangle above meeting of the lips. 'Kinda cute,' I thought, looking at it, right there, a few inches from my face, taking in the funky smell of her excitement. My prick swelled. "We're in business, lover," she said, interrupting her suck. Then she leaned and took the cock up again while she wiggled her hips, like "I got ya going, lover" –so proud, lowering her cunt to my lips, grinding onto my mouth.

Apply pussy, get the cock up, she must be thinking. "Lick it just right!" She meant her clit, to get her hot just the way she'd told me in her 'pointers'. "Stick your tongue in, baby." She had a damn road map for everything! I felt myself go limp in her drooling mouth, and nipped her clit.

"Ouch! You lost it, damn, what's the matter?"

I didn't know why that little pussy had lost its power to charm, and those words would rattle around my brain for weeks. The 'matter' was she had no tits. No, the problem was the owner. Always proud, 'the best blow job,' and a pussy that could work wonders. It didn't. What did she have to be proud of? That was the question I almost spoke as I rushed to leave with an odd sense of something about to happen.

"No hard feelings," as if she wanted to please; with hands on her hips, she ground them, "We can fix you right up," as I zipped my pants, embarrassed. "Hey, I've got something for you, lover," she said, touching one pussy lip, pulling her twat a little open, showing a glimpse of the small pink slit, watching my face and the front of my pants.

I thought,This prim gash; it's gotta be opened, and there was an urge to splay her wide with my fingers, exposing everything that lay within. With such strange impulses boiling inside me, I moved toward the door. She flared up, "Not quite up to it? What the fuck's the matter with you?" The question.

Keep calm, I thought. I was filled with such dread. "Nothin' for me, here, babe," and I moved again to leave.

Behind me I heard, "I don't need you," a sob, and finally, "Fuck off!"

*=======================

Now, plowing Ms Poon, Chelsea's question that had been rattling in my head every night didn't seem to matter. Nor the evil feelings I'd had. Chelsea and her stupid pride! Judging me 'cause a few grinds of that miserable little cooze didn't do the trick. Dangle a piec'a meat in front of a dog, and he'll jump. I was no dog.

With this cunt, here, no-tit Chelsea's senseless anger and pride lost their hold on me. The urge welled up and I knew what it was.My malice.My cruelty. I afflict whom I choose. Let the other poor fucker try to make sense of it.

My speed musta picked up because I heard from the dirty mouth, "Shoot that goddamn load! Shoot it! In my cunt! Slime it with your red-hot cock." Her whole body was jerking; her voice was shaking in the intensity. "Do me, Fucker!"

"We're goin' for it, cunt." I was yelling, "Don't dare fuckin' stop!" She kept on.This coffee brown bitch, the pure cunt with real tits right here for me, doesn't see anything the matter, just I'm a pile driver, sonovabitch. ...All that's happened is so clear, now I'm director.I had just watched, in a fire of joy, as her brain ran into the stone wall of the unexplainable.No more my own senseless why's! I am the author; now, there goes the steel into my prick! This torn cunt knows a fuck-hard sonovabitch cock is about to burst. "I'm gonna shoot!" Stabbing it into her. My head split in a flash-fire streaking from my balls and guts to my prick and out into her ravening belly.

Everything was blank for a minute or so; then I became aware she wasn't stopping; maybe she was afraid to.What a show, if she'd get really hot."Rub that button with your fingers." Her moves took on a desperate ferocity as she pleased herself.Maybe the horny twat is going to get herself off.

"Gawd, gawd, I can't take it" et cetera was spillin' out, and she wasn't being told to say anything.

My steel wouldn't last much more. "Rub yourself quick and light." Like Chelsea'd shown herself off to me. When the tension of her body seemed to peak, I jammed a wet finger into her ass. She went over, or maybe her body just could not hold up any more. It shuddered briefly; with a little cry, she fell back, away from my prick, limp and exhausted.

Time to make my exit; she was alert, but I figured she was too weak to do much runnin' and hollerin'. "Just sit there on the rock. Calm. Not even a cat's gonna drag you home. You are a sight." She started to tidy herself. "Even your sweet momma would not wanna see you."

She jerked upright. "Leave my momma alone!"

"She had the legs—"

She stood, to confront me. "Shut up!"

"and they spread so easy—you got 'em!"

"You fuckin' bastard." I saw her spit, felt a gob hit my shirt and saw her hand coming to slap my face. Deflecting it, then seized by rage, I felt an irresistible urge: Drawing back my right arm across my body, I lashed an open backhand to her cheek—hard enough to stagger her, and allow me to bring her to the ground and sit on top of her heaving chest. Placing my forearm across her neck, I controlled her.

"Ihadyou and left you alive! Now I get spit, who was doin' you the favor of..." Her angry face paled; she knew what was next, "of letting you live!" I quickly pressed my forearm down just enough to show her. With the slightest bit more pressure, I could stop her breath. Her body went quiet real fast. I totally controlled her.No resistance; I'm on top. Gotta cool.She just went off from the teasing. No problem. I took my forearm off her neck,let her sit, and she sobbed into her hands; it took her body a couple minutes to stop shaking.

She has to get the fuck outta here. In our area of the park, crying would bring help quicker than screams. "Getta fucking hold, woman. You can't sit around here and cry." A slap sobered her a bit, but the talk kept spillin' out. I made out the words "shame" and "momma," and heard some kinda blubbering about her step-dad.

Finally she said, "It's so dark." Sounded like she'd been readingThe Color Purple way too long.

"A fairy tale." She looked startled. "It was something else."

"Yes."

"A wild guess... it was probably your half brother; someone like that. He had your cherry. Step-dad was later, no concerna your momma." In shock, she drew her body in. My stomach turned during the rush of tears.I gotta put a lid on this family garbage!I need quiet, to get the bitch to do exactly as she was told. It was necessary to scare the hell outa her.

"You lash out; you spill; you are one dangerous bitch. See what I hafta do?"

"Kill me." Utter calm.

"Can you give me one reason I shouldn't?"

"I came."

"Oh? ..." I trailed off, waiting. Would she go into the 'my body betrayed me' thing. That would piss me off.

"It happened." She'd cleared the last hurdle.

I needed for her to be clear: "One last time; give a reason."

"I'll run like hell outa here, and nobody's gonna hear about you."

"It's a deal. Oh, and it's best not to move out of the city or try to hide."

"I'd stay aroundhere?"

"It's safer. Remember your sister."

"Safer." She hesitated, choosing her words: "But all this has happened."

"It happens."

"I'll see you again?"

"There's the Lord to call on. Didn't he answer you?"

"He let me live."

"Right." I said, "Stay. Live."

"I understand. And how 'bout my sister?"

"The Lord's kept her out'a all danger?"

"Yes."

"We'll keep her safe. Now, listen to what you hafta do."

I'd take her skirt, blouse, bag, and shoes and put them behind a bush, about thirty yards away, visible across the grassy area, at the far end of the strip of woods where our grove was. "When you've dressed, do not go running around or yelling 'police.' " She was to count to a hundred before moving or making a sound. In case she was thinking of cheating, I'd be close nearby, ready to plant my entire right foot in her ass, and we'd go from there. "Can you do this exactly right?"

"Yes."

I collected her things, went out to the bush, then ducked back into the woods. She came out and walked across the grass in a hurry, nicely exposed. The cunt was just fine. Reaching the bush, she went behind it, dressed, and began to wait, quiet, straightening herself up.

Heading for home: I remembered. The crazed energy. There was some really senseless shit, and she added to the pile. Why she'd complicated things, I didn't know. Sometimes it doesn't pay to do someone a favor. Her reasons didn't matter, anyway. I'd learn to keep my cool.My show. It opened well. Looks like I have a leading lady.Wonder how long it'll run. Till the vain bitch really learned. What she could proud of: to be breathing.

* * * * *

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