Brad Harris - Raped daughter

She was still trying to run as she sprawled across the dirt and grass of the trail with the skinny boy across her legs, his hands wrapped around her thighs.

"Going somewhere, baby?" he asked. "You act like you don't want to come to our party. That wouldn't do. That wouldn't do at all. Shit! You have to be at the party. You're the ice cream and cake we've been waiting for."

The other two had come panting up. They stood above the girl, laughing at her helplessness. Anton reached down and caught her arm, pulling her roughly to her feet. He slapped her hard across the mouth with his free hand, then drew back as though to hit her again.

"No more of that funny business," he snarled. "When I bring the goodies, I don't like them trying to run off."

"Yeah, what a bag of cookies!" the short, fat guy beside him gasped. "Ohhhh, baby! What a stack of goodies!"

He leered at her tits, then stepped towards her and grabbed one buttock in his pudgy hand. He squeezed her ass and shook it playfully. He was about to reach for her tits when Anton spun her around and pushed her back towards the old shack.

"All right," he muttered. "Get back down there. We don't have all day. Let's get the party started."

Connie walked back, surrounded by the trio. She had little doubt what the three wanted. Damn them! She didn't really object to them fucking her, not any more.

What she was angry about was the way they did it. They were making her do it.

She didn't like that. Also, she had planned another, a more important, fuck for this afternoon. Damn them to hell anyway!

"Inside!" Anton panted as he pushed her through the open door. "Get in there and get those clothes off."

The place stunk inside. The old shack was littered with all kinds of junk and garbage. It looked like it had been the haven for bums. She could smell the stench of piss, the stale odor of cheap wine and beer. The girl shuddered at the filthiness of the place. The boys had opened a sleeping bag on the floor.

Now they pointed to it as they started pulling off their clothes.

"Hurry up!" Anton insisted. "You want to take your clothes off or you want me to tear them off? Shit! I've about lost patience with you?'

The little brunette looked at the anger blazing in his eyes. This was sure a different Anton than the boy she thought she knew at the malt shop. This war a different kind of boy. This was a dirty, crude bastard. She glared at him for a moment, then sulkily began to remove her clothes.

"Hey! Hey! Hey!" the skinny guy laughed. "Ohhh, look at those sweet tits. Ohhh, won't they be nice!"

"They will be, if there's any of them left when I get through with her!" Anton grunted. "This little cunt has gotten me mad with all her trying to run away from us. You guys know she even screamed at me while I drove her out here?"

"All I care about is that gorgeous pussy right there!" the fat boy gasped as she dropped her panties. "Man, oh, man! I've never seen such a pretty little pussy in my life!"

Connie struggled to recall if she had ever heard the other two guys ever referred to by name at the malt shop. She could only get swirling confusion through her brain. She concentrated harder, catching some vague memories. Then it began to become clearer through her confusion. The fat boy, yes, the fat boy had been called Denny by someone. She was sure of that. His name was Denny.

Slim was what she had heard Anton refer to the skinny one. Slim was all he had ever been called, to her knowledge. She felt a sense of elation. It seemed absurd at the moment, yet it somehow made things feel better that she knew the boys' names.

She was still glowing at the awareness that she knew them when she felt the hardness of Anton's cock against her pussy. She had been so preoccupied with placing the other two that she had not even realized that the swarthy youth had already climbed over her and was pumping his cock against her pussy while his hands groped lustfully at her tits.

"Ohhhh, baby!" he moaned. "I've been aching to get these tits in my hands for months. Ohhhh, they feel softer and fuller than even in my imagination."

His cock rammed at her pussy, bursting through into the soft passage despite the efforts of the girl to tighten her cunt muscles. He shuddered and began ramming his angry prick into her. The girl felt his growing passion, felt the way his cock shuddered with its mounting lust. She lay back, helpless to prevent him from working his will on her defenseless body. She listened to his deep, chaotic pants. She felt his rough, violent plunges. She accepted the crude way his hands pulled and on her tits.

"I've imagined how this would be," he told her. "I've imagined it was you when I fucked any girl. Shit! I've fucked my own fist and made believe it was this sweet, soft pussy"

The confession did nothing to excite the young brunette. She only felt compassion for whatever woman he might have been fucking as he pretended to be screwing her instead. Poor creature, probably believed his lust was all for her. It seemed so sad, so brutal, so unfeeling. His fuck was unfeeling, too. In a strange way he wasn't fucking her at all. He was only fucking himself, only fucking his own mind. He was fucking his imagination. The thought gave the girl considerable satisfaction. Anton could never fuck her. He could never get his cock inside her pussy. No matter what he did, he was still only driving his mean pecker into his own imagination. She wanted to laugh. Even as he panted and gasped on top of her, she fought back the impulse to laugh at him. He was fucking the idea of fucking. Her body just happened to be the best stimulation to his lewd imagination.

"Ohhh, baby!" Anton cried out, unaware of her contempt for his fucking. "Ohhhh, baby! Try out this old cock! You feel that! You feel that cock fucking hell out of your pussy?"

His face was glowing with lust as he balled away. He twisted his body to allow his mouth to get down at her tits. Without missing a stroke with his lunging pecker, he began to suck noisily at her bouncing tits. Connie lay back, sure that she wouldn't feel anything this time. How could she? She wasn't being fucked, she was merely being used. The cocky bastard was merely masturbating inside her cunt.

"Mmmmmfff!" he groaned from a mouth buried in her jugs. "Ohhhh! Uhhhh!

Mmmmmfff!"

His hands held one tit upward so that his tongue could lap wildly over her nipple. He sucked and licked while his hands cupped and molded her swelling flesh voluptuously. Connie gasped in surprise. Her tits were swelling and tightening under his play. Her nipples were beginning to get hard and tight.

Damn! Damn! What the hell was that all about?

"Take it, baby!" he panted, looking up from her tits. "Take that hot prick up your pussy!"

The boy began twisting waving his prick against her cunt wails as he drove it into her with deeper frenzy. Connie began to feel it throbbing, began to feel its heat. Her cunt slowly started responding, started to pulse over his lunging cock.

"Mmmm," she heard herself "Mmmm!"

"I told you you'd like it," he gasped happily. "I knew you'd feel it! Damn! I never fucked a cunt yet who didn't like it. Scream and kick and fight beforehand, you all do that. Give you a good, hard cock, though, and you turn all soft and sweet."

She tried to ignore his lewd bragging. She tried to concentrate her feeling% solely on the exquisite sensations running through her pussy. The little brunette closed her eyes. She pictured her dad above her, balling the hell out of her. She imagined Matt's hulking body on her, his mammoth prick thrusting lustily into her cunt. She even pictured Wes and Blake fucking her. She could do the same thing Anton had done with other girls. She could pretend it was Matt, or someone she preferred who was fucking her.