Kelly's First Date Ch. 03

I slept till eleven the following day. My pussy was red and sore, my lips swollen from them fucking my face. I was getting quite an education. Vicky got up shortly after me; she looked tired, and neither of us was up to a conversation, so we drank our coffee silently. I wanted to tell her about those guys raping me. But I was ashamed for putting myself in that situation.

My mother had called; one of my cousins, whom I didn't know well, was getting married. The wedding was in two weeks, and, of course, my mother wanted me there. She couldn't resist asking me if I was dating anyone. I didn't lie; I said I had gone on a few dates. She would die if she saw me on my knees sucking cocks and getting cum on my face. I can guarantee you she has never sucked my father's cock.

Things have a way of working out: Vicky was going on a week-long cruise with one of her "Clients." So I could use her car. Besides, I wouldn't feel safe staying that long in her apartment alone, especially with those two pricks that raped me still roaming around.

I looked at the clothes I was going to take with me. I realized I needed to do some shopping. I didn't dare wear some of my new clothes in front of my mother. She still believed women's skirts should be below their knees. I spent the day with Vicky shopping. She needed clothes for her trip too. We ate dinner in our room and afterward relaxed with a glass of wine.

I was confused about my sexual feelings. I found myself only wanting Vicky while at the same time loving the feel of a hard, dripping cock being forced inside of me. Especially the thought of a rough blowjob definitely got me wet. I would have to talk with Vicky after our trips.

I went into the kitchen for more wine, and when I returned, Vicky was lying on her bed in just a corset and off-black stockings. Looking at her, I felt warm; I knew she was teasing me.

"Come here," she said, extending her hand and pulling me on top of her. I lowered my mouth to hers, our tongues finding each other. It was paradise. I stripped down to my garter belt and nylons. We embraced in a tangle of stocking-covered legs. Before falling asleep, we explored each other's bodies with our lips and fingers. It just felt so right.

I woke before Vicky and gazed at her perfect face, trying not to think of what some man would be doing to her on their cruise. It was an odd combination of not wanting anyone else to touch her and me needing a hard cock in all my holes.

Vicky left, but not before we embraced and kissed deeply, with her warning me not to fall for some guy at the wedding.

I wanted to look nice, so I chose a tan dress with dark coffee-colored stockings, pale yellow underwear, and beige heels. I was ready for some grief about wearing heels; my mother disapproved of them. She would also be upset about the cleavage I was showing. This dress hugged my boobs tightly, so from any side, it wasn't hard to imagine how my tits looked naked.

I was making good time driving, so I wanted to have some fun. I didn't need gas but was dying to try what Vicky had done. Pulling in a small station, I inched my dress past my stocking tops.

"Please fill me up, I said in a sexy voice."

"Kelly, is that you?"

It was Kevin, the son of one of my mother's friends. I hadn't looked up; I was concentrating on the front of his pants. He was two years older than me but very immature; he almost giggled just seeing a pretty girl.

Of course, he cleaned the windshield. Vicky was always correct about what men would do. One thing for sure: he was a "Leg man." I couldn't pull my dress down; it would be too obvious. I glanced down at my legs; they looked great. My stocking tops were fully expanded. My panties had a row of white lace around the edge; from his vantage point, he could see everything. He approached my window and asked if I was back for the wedding. I nodded my head and said we'd probably see each other.

"Great, that would be fantastic! I can't wait to tell my mother you'll be at the wedding."

He acted like a child. I would bet he was still a virgin.

Sometimes, I wish I still was.

I parked at a rest stop; I needed to freshen up. Of course, guys were checking me out. I enjoyed the attention I got when I exited the car or walked on the street. My heels gave me a little wiggle. There were always guys trying to get a glimpse of stockings.

I arrived at my house at dinnertime, and after hugs and kisses, my father stepped back and said how grown up I looked. My mother had perfected looking down her nose, saying,

"That dress is a little tight, dear; have you put on weight? And I didn't realize they were wearing dresses so short. Maybe if there's enough material, I could lengthen it?"

My weekend of hell had begun.

I was dying for a drink. I should have planned for this and brought a bottle. I don't know how I forgot my mother's ban on alcohol. I suffered through dinner under my mother's cross-examination. My dad was nicer than ever, trying to sidetrack my mother's relentless grilling about the details of my life with Vicky. I'm glad I didn't have a drink. I was telling so many lies that it was hard to keep them straight.

Finally, it was time to turn in. When I walked into my room, I was shocked. I was so used to it when I lived there that I didn't realize that it looked like it was decorated for a fourteen-year-old. It was then that I realized how sheltered I had been. I pulled off my dress, hanging it up. I stood in front of my mirror in my underwear, stockings, and heels. I cupped my firm tits, lightly pinching my nipples, then drifting down to my crotch. I was so horny that when my hands found my clit it felt so good that my knees buckled. I wish Vicky were here to satisfy me. Little did I know that my father watched my little performance through a convenient crack in the wall beside the mirror. I stripped naked and jumped into bed, burying my fingers in my needy cunt; while, at the same time, my father silently jerked off in the room next to me after watching me undress.

The next day, I dressed in jeans, running shoes with a bulky sweatshirt, and my hair in a ponytail. I set out to find a liquor store, but I gave up quickly. Only two were in town, and they knew I was under twenty-one. These are the problems of growing up in a small town: everybody knows you. I finally found a seedy store outside of town that was more in need of making money than enforcing some law. I bought a small bottle of vodka to sneak into the house.

The wedding was at four o'clock, so I had time to relax. I loved New York; there was so much to see and do. I knew I could never live in a small town again.

Vicky had warned me not to wear dark clothes to a wedding. But I wanted to show off and piss my mother off simultaneously. Because my dress was strapless with a vee neck, I had to wear a strapless corset with black panties and sheer black stockings. My hair was in a French twist, with a few strands framing my face; a lace choker and shiny black heels completed my outfit. I stepped back and looked in the mirror; my dress was a little shorter than I remembered, ending a good three inches above my knees. I would have to be careful sitting.

My mother actually gasped when I walked downstairs.

"You can't wear black to a wedding. What will people think."

I had a white shawl in the car but wouldn't tell her.

She was nearly in tears.

"You don't need to sit with me, mother. I'll see you at the church."

My father tried to calm her down while watching me wiggle my ass down the walk to my car.

There were a few men in the parking lot taking a cigarette break. I noticed them passing a flask around. I needed a drink. I remembered what Vicky said about manipulating men. I parked in a spot with the driver's side facing them. They all looked my way, and I hit them with a smile. I swung my door open and hesitated momentarily to ensure my legs were on display. I got out, wobbling on my heels, acting like I didn't realize my stocking tops were showing. I reached for my shawl, pulling my dress higher.

"Oops, sorry, fellas, I'm not used to a short dress."

I said, pretending I was embarrassed as I tugged my dress down. In my sweetest voice, I purred.

"Is there any booze left? I could use a drink."

They fell over themselves, getting the flask to me. I took a mouthful, not realizing it was one hundred-proof whiskey. I sputtered, almost spitting it out. They were all laughing, trying to get me to take more. I shook my head.

"No, do you guys want me flat on my back? Maybe later? I mean, for a drink. Not flat on my back." I gave them a sly wink.

I was beet red as I hurried into the church with all their eyes on my taut ass.

The whiskey hit me like a ton of bricks. I sat in the back row, afraid of walking up the aisle. I tried to focus, but the church was starting to spin. After twenty minutes, I began to compose myself.

That's when Kevin slid in next to me.

"Are you all right, Kelly? You look flushed."

His eyes went from my boobs to my legs. I tried tugging my dress down, but that only exposed more of my tits. Even though I was hot, I slipped my shawl over my shoulders, covering me somewhat.

When the service ended, I took Kevin's arm and went outside. The reception was on the main road at the local Holiday Inn. I was sober enough to drive, so I left Vicky's car at the house, and Kevin picked me up. I was intending to get drunk.

I sat sideways, my knees facing him. I made sure to give him a leg show. Using my most innocent voice, I told him I had to check my stockings and not to look.

I sat back and pulled my dress up to my waist, refastening my stockings even though nothing was wrong.

"KEVIN, you were looking, you bad boy. What if I tell your mother."

He looked scared until I said.

"I don't care. You can look. I know what guys like; that's why I wear them. In a move that surprised me, he rested his hand on my nylon-covered knee. When I didn't object, he inched it a little higher. When we got to the reception, his smile had returned, and his hand lingered on my leg, playing with my stocking top. We got out, and I took his arm and walked in.

I wasn't about to sit with my mother, so Kevin and I sat at an unused table. We talked, and I was right; he was terribly immature, but he had a dick and I needed one. He had no idea he was about to get lucky. We had a few drinks and some food. The music started as I said my goodbyes to the bride and groom and got out of there. Returning home was a huge mistake, and I was about to make it worse.

Kevin and his uncle stayed at a motel not far away, so I suggested we go there for a drink and reminisce. He picked up a bottle of whiskey on the way; he said his uncle had told him that he was going out after the reception and to leave the door open. So we would be alone for a while.

His room was on the second floor, so he let me go first so he could check out my legs and ass. Guys think they're so smooth.

Once inside, I went to the bathroom to check my makeup while he went for ice. I wanted to have some fun with Kevin. I applied black eye shadow and put on some hoop earrings.

I sat on the small sofa and crossed my legs. Kevin poured two glasses of whiskey, took a drink, and awkwardly put his arm around my shoulders. We talked about growing up in a small town and how different it has become.

He finished his drink and poured another. He was getting drunk. I sipped mine. I don't want to get too drunk. But being a typical man, he tried to get me to drink more. And like a fool, I did.

There was a lull, and I was feeling warm from the liquor. We both turned toward each other, our lips almost touching. I took the initiative and kissed him lightly. He responded by holding my head and forcing his tongue into my mouth. While at the same time squeezing my boobs. I pulled back and slapped his face. I shouldn't have done that, but it was a reflex move. And I was getting tired of men using me. I stood up and said.

"Take me home! NOW!"

He just sat there with a dazed look on his face. Then he jumped up and slapped me harder than I had hit him. He had a wild look on his face.

"You little cunt; do you think you can tease me and not put out. Well, you are going to learn a lesson."

He pushed me toward the bed, picked me up, and threw me on it. Tears were running down my face.

I started begging.

"Let me go. I won't tell anyone, and I'll get a cab."

"Who will believe you? You're dressed like a hooker."

He was right; I was lying on my back, my dress up to my panties, while he towered over me. I rolled off the other side of the bed and tried to rush past him, but he grabbed me, pulling the top of my dress down, my boobs bouncing free. He turned me around, unzipping my dress and pulling it off as I vainly tried to stop him. I stood before him in my corset and nylons, my tits exposed.

"You're going to get fucked, Kelly. And you deserve it."

With that, he held me and pinched my nipples until I screamed in pain.

I started to sob and cry, begging him to let me go. I swear my crying was turning him on. He quickly undressed. His cock was standing straight up. I couldn't believe how strong he was. He tossed me onto the bed, pulling my panties off; with no foreplay, he spread my legs and forced his dick in me. The pain was excruciating. He lasted about one minute. Grunting, he shot his cum in me. I had to be his first. I could feel his stuff running down the crack of my ass. He rolled over as I curled up, the pain easing. I lay there wondering how I was going to get back.

He cleared his throat and asked me if I was all right.

"As a matter of fact, no, you hurt me. Now I want to go home."

He smirked.

"I'm too drunk to drive now, so you'll have to wait till morning. Now let me sleep I may want to fuck you again."

I deserved this: a small town without a cab service after eleven o'clock. As I slipped on my clothes, I knew I wasn't about to walk home in this dress and four-inch heels.

I sat down and passed out in the chair. I woke from a dream of a stranger trying to force his dick into my mouth with other men urging him on. Then I realized I was awake. And there were men holding my arms down, and a smelly dick was in my mouth.

"If you're thinking about biting me, I'll knock your teeth out. Now just relax and suck my cock like a good girl."

My head was spinning, and my dress had been pulled up, exposing my panties. I counted three men besides Kevin standing around me, leering at me. All were waiting their turn. I started to struggle, but that just excited them more. I could only guess that one of them must be Kevin's uncle. One of them said let's get her on the bed. They stood me up, pulled my dress off, and threw me on the bed; my tits popped out of my corset. One of them lay on the bed, his hard-on standing straight up, grinning, he said.

"Lower her down on me, boys."

They picked me up like I was a toy and guided me down on his dick, sliding into my wet cunt. My boobs were hitting him in the face.

I wasn't getting anything out of this. Then fear gripped me; they poured some sticky liquid on my ass. I started to scream for them to stop. But they laughed, ignoring me. I couldn't believe they were going to fuck me in the ass. I felt a dick probing my tender asshole; it felt like a baseball bat when he pushed it in. The pain was intense. I was close to passing out. He pounded my ass, cumming quickly and rolling off so another guy could fuck my stretched rear. My tits were pulled and twisted like they weren't part of my body.

They all fucked my holes relentlessly. I mercifully gave up and passed out from the pain.

When I awoke, it was just Kevin and his uncle. Who passed out on the floor. I think Kevin felt guilty he couldn't look me in the face, maybe because it was covered in cum. After I cleaned up and dressed, he said he could drive me home.

The ride was made in silence. I kept my shawl covering my legs after seeing him look at them. Men are unbelievable! After all that had happened he was still looking at my legs.

It was two o'clock when we got there. The house was dark. Kevin reached over to hold my arm as I opened the car door.

"I'm really sorry for what happened; it wasn't planned."

I was pissed he wanted me to forgive him.

"You know something, Kevin? I don't care if you're sorry. I still hurt all over, and my rear is bleeding. I never want to see you again."

I wanted to slam his door but didn't want to wake my parents.

I scrubbed my face and crawled into bed. I decided to sleep in my bra and panties. I fell asleep quickly.

Only to wake up suddenly. I glanced at the clock It was three thirty. I was groggy, but I felt like someone was in the room. The room was pitch black. There was definitely someone next to the bed. I could smell beer and labored breathing. Then, the voice I knew so well--my father's.

"I didn't want to scare you, Kelly. I wanted to talk with you. I miss you."

I was aware my bra was exposed, barely covering my nipples. I could see him staring at them. He was drunker than I had ever seen him.

I was very uncomfortable; I switched on a light next to me, hoping he would leave, but it caused him to stare at my boobs more intently.

"Why don't we talk in the morning, Dad? I'm tired, and you look like you had too much beer?"

He was really wasted; he started to get up and, without warning, pulled my bra down. My firm tits wobbled side to side. He fell on them, sucking and biting my nipples. He slobbered all over them, pushing them together and pinching the firm flesh. I was afraid he would wake my mother. I tried to push him off, but he was too strong for me. I couldn't believe this was happening to me. He stood up, pushing his pants down, revealing an angry cock. His eyes were watering; he didn't look like my father. He had a mean look, like he might hurt me. He hovered over me and said.

"Let's see what you learned in the big city."

He rubbed his cock on my tits, smearing his pre cum on my nipples. He moved it up to my face and gasped.

"Suck it."

This was my worst nightmare: my own father raping me. I opened my mouth, and he forced it in. I was sicker than ever; I just wanted to get it over with. I couldn't do anything to help him. Tears were running down my cheeks. I wanted to die.

Thank God he didn't last too long; his cock swelled as he shot his cum down my throat. He didn't look at me as he shuffled out of my room.

I was sobbing uncontrollably. My own father, how could he do that to me?

It was four o'clock, not yet light outside. I wore a sweatshirt, jeans, and running shoes with my hair tucked under a cap. I was tired of dressing for men.

I left without leaving a note. I never wanted to see them again. I hurt all over. I was in a daze, not even remembering the drive home.

Leaving the car with the doorman, I needed to get to the apartment and try to forget everything. Vicky would be home tomorrow, and everything would be all right.