Mr. Wallace and Me Pt. 07

Stan's mouth planted wet kisses on my bare shoulder and chest as his hands gripped my bare back, owning it. I couldn't help but moan just a little. He looked down at me.

"Is it really your period?" he asked.

I nodded and he frowned. My mind was an absolute blank, but my body was starting to respond. My breathing was getting heavier and his kisses on my body were making me tingle.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," he said, then slammed me face-down sideways over the hood of my mom's car. I cried out into the cold darkness, but no one could hear. "You're so thin and cute, so gorgeous," he muttered, "and I'm not going one more night without fucking something."

His thick body pinning my slender one to the car hood, Stan raised my skirt, gripped and tore my panties in two.

"Holy crap, what a great little ass. I mean it. What a great, little ass. This is going to hurt for a while," he said, pulling down his pants and undershorts, "but then it's going to feel great."

"Nooooooooo," I sobbed mournfully. "Oh, please, please ... noooooo!"

From behind me his strong hands were on my waist, and his thick cock -- so much bigger than Dr. Phillips' -- burrowed into me. He was right. It hurt. I arched my back and emitted a kind of sick moan as he impaled me..

"Holy shit!" he said. "It slipped in there like nothing. You've taken a cock up the ass before! Why, you little whore!"

The married man proceeded to bang into me harder and harder, his teeth taking little nips of my bare back as my dress clung to me by the one remaining frilly strap. He grabbed my hair and pulled, making me arch my back as he plowed into my sore bottom. After all I had been through, my mind was disbelieving that this could be happening to me.

"Take my cock, you little cunt!" he said between deep breaths and slobbering on my back. "You've got the sexiest back I've ever seen. You bitch, you cunt, you little whore!"

I didn't know why he was calling me names. But he seemed to get more excited doing it. I was crying, my body unresponsive as Stan dragged me off the car hood and put me face-down onto the lawn where he lay on top of me, gripped my shoulders and continued his assault,

"Do you like this cock in you, Baby?" He was breathing hard as he lay atop me, kissing and nibbling my bare back and neck. "I know you do, Slut. You feel so fucking good. What a body. What a fucking body."

His thrusts were driving my sore breasts and narrow hips into the soft, damp grass. The friction on my little penis as it rubbed against my dress as it was forced down again and again was making it hard. Stan started grunting rapidly in my ear, his hands squeezing my sensitive shoulders, my bottom so full with his thick cock.that I was incapable of any kind of cogent thought. I could tell that Stan was getting close ... and so was I.

"Cunt!" he shouted. "Whore! Bitch! Slut!" He rammed into me. I was so close.

Then he bit my shoulder, and I arched my back and screamed as my little penis shot a hot wad of cum into the skirt part of my lovely dress. I'm sure I passed out for several seconds. I have a vague recollection of Stan continuing to plunge into me many more times before grunting in rapid succession, pulling out of me, grabbing his dick and launching his seed onto my bare bottom and lower back.

We lay there for minutes with him on top of me, trying to catch our breath, the only sound other than our breathing made by crickets in the dark distance. Then abruptly, Stan kissed my back and got up. He pulled up his pants and undershorts, which had been caught up on his shoes while he had his way with me.

I lay there limp, face-down, one frilly strap off my shoulder that now bore his bite indentation. The back of my dress was still pulled up, revealing his white cum on my tight, taut bottom. My blonde hair was all over the place. My relief at finally orgasming overwhelmed by feeling so used, so physically and mentally dominated ... again.

"Fuck," Stan exclaimed, looking down at me as I sobbed softly, feeling horribly violated. "That was great. You look so sweet and innocent, but you're the best piece of ass I've ever had."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out several folded bills. He selected a $20 bill, bent down and pushed it arrogantly into my cleavage.

"Here you go, Billie," he said. "You certainly earned it, you little whore. You can earn another 20 next Saturday by coming to my house -- it's No. 15 just down the street -- to clean. I'll send the wife out to her mother's with the kid. I'll be wanting to see if your cunt is as good as your ass. If it is, there's another 20 bucks on top of that for you."

He not only treated me like a prostitute, he paid me like one! I didn't think I could feel lower than when I was fucked by Mr. Wallace's corpse, but I was wrong. Stan was a pig. I began to think all men are pigs.

But through my haze, I realized that for the first time, I had been fucked by a man who -- even afterwards -- didn't know I wasn't a girl.

A moment later, Stan was gone into the dark night.

I rolled up into a fetal position ball and would have cried, but I had no tears left. Eventually, I realized I was cold. I rose vacantly, found my boy clothes in the car and walked in a trance back to the trailer. Twenty-five minutes later, I entered my parents' house dressed as Bill, an 18-year-old boy. I fell into my bed with my clothes on and slept until late the next morning when my cell phone rang.

It was Mr. Drummond. I was so sleepy that I barely understood what he was saying.

"Billy," he said, "I want you to call in sick the next two nights at work. The last thing we need is you having to answer any qustions about Ted Wallace. I want you to meet me at my office on Tuesday at 4 p.m. The address is on the business card I gave you. Oh, and wear a suit ... a young man's suit. See you then. Gotta go. Goodbye."

"Yeah," I said sleepily. "OK."

Then I removed my boy clothes, lay back down naked, pulled the covers around me and slept for another five hours.

End of Part 7. (To be continued.)