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Click hereSarah matched my rhythm and started to cry. This was a bit disturbing to me. I'd never experienced this before and on the surface it would seem that a woman crying while you fucked her was not a good sign, however this seemed to be religious fervor, not disappointment, reluctance, or agony. She repeated in sync with my thrusts, "Oh lord, oh lord, oh lord . . . "
I guess it's only naturally to play to your audience, and I didn't want to disappoint, after all, maybe she'd be cooking some bacon and eggs for me in the morning. I hoped home cooking was a part of the deal. Fucking three or four times a day? I'd never had that opportunity. Maybe I could even out do the Reverend James by one or two times.
"I can't help it Sarah. It's going to happen. It's not my fault. I don't mean to do it." Even I was a bit embarrassed by this tripe but Sarah seemed to eat it right up.
She squeezed me tight and held me as I continued to thrust. "I know it ain't yer fault John, just let it go. Let it go inside me."
So, let it go I did, and Christ did I cum. It felt like the back of my head was being sucked out my dick. I was being sucked inside out. Sarah did everything in her power to make it happen. Her cunt clamped down on me with muscles that I didn't know existed. It felt like she could have cracked a walnut, and she sure cracked mine. I must have come a gallon . . . well, maybe not, but it sure felt like it. I hugged her and held on to her as I flooded her cervix. She stroked my head.
"It's all better now," she said, comforting me, talking as if I had just had a bullet removed, a bone set without anesthetic, or some other agonizing experience. Yet, I had to agree, it was pretty much better now and I'll be damned if I didn't feel less evil and more at peace with the world. Damn good religion I thought. Never put much stake in that mumbo-jumbo but I always felt there was good and evil and damn, this was pretty good. I figured, if fucking is what it takes to be good, I'd just have to step up and do my duty. After all, I've never been one to shirk responsibility.
- COMMENTS
Anonymousover 16 years agoFantastic story. Woman in the story has just the right amount of control over her lust-drunk young visitor. Love the way she tells him its alright to cum in her. She is comforting, nurturing, accepting and understanding. Fantastic. Please write more. You're a fantastic writer. What ever mistakes you've made are minor and insignificant. Ignore these other who quibble over small details.
rockin21208over 16 years agoThe premise of sex as a mechanism for discharging and de-fusing the forces of evil and converting them to good struck me as quite inventive and intriguing. The use of an odd rural dialect to drive the story somehow was not as annoying and distracting as it usually seems when thrown in as a cliche to add flavor. Usually the dialect device feels clumsily stuck on to the detriment of the story. In this case it seemed to me the perfect vehicle for the explication of the clever philosophy which imbues the male fantasy of sex-on-demand with an air of holiness rather than mere perversion. Thanks!
Anonymousover 16 years ago"Old Blimey" "Crystal Palace district, South London to be exact"? It's a bit crappy when people try to use words and phrases they've no idea about. "Old Blighty" is the correct form, and as Crystal Palace is more exact than South London. I'm sure your Dad would be spinning in his grave.
Apart from that, pretty hot stuff.
Anonymousover 16 years agoThanks - a good read
Nice story.... apart from UK is "Old Blighty" - Blimey is a mild expletive
