Vincent Church - Degraded teenager

"Ahhhhhhhhhhh!" Embedding the last inches, pressing the fingers that refused to relinquish their prize into the slit too, Gus let himself down. His hands sought her firm, little-girl breasts. He circled the nipples, pressing down, making them pop. His lips pounced on one, sucking the lush pinkness greedily into the warmth of his mouth.

Wendy's head soared. Her entire being seemed to be concentrated in the red bush he was poking, in her rigid nipples. She lifted her knees at either side of his muscular loins, and let them fall sideways, opening her legs like the wings of a white butterfly. She relinquished her grip on his cock, wanting to feel his big, hairy balls at her crotch. "G-G-Guseeeeeeeeeeee," she screamed, hearing the place where the other Wendy, the one who cared about nothing except orgasm and cream, was waiting to greet her and teach her new ways to screw. Now she wanted the pain. She wanted him to fuck harder, to slam it into her guts, and tear her open from cunthole to navel. To fuck his dick up her as she'd never before been shafted.

"Do it! DO IT!" she grunted, telling him with her hips, her gyrating ass. "F-Fuck me out good. Real… oh! Oh! Real hard. Up. Um. Please. Ohhhh…"

Gus grunted. His teeth locked, cutting into the warm flesh of her nipple. His fingers danced down her rib cage, paused to gauge the roundness of her hips, and then slid under, gripping her buttocks, hefting the soft, creamy melons in the palms of his huge, calloused hands. He began to stroke. Greedily sucking her tit, lifting her bottom to meet each lunge, he set up a slow, steady fuck tempo – like a male belly dancer, cock dipping smoothly with each bump and pulling back with each forceful grind.

Tentatively Wendy raised one trembling leg, draping it over his waist. Her arms locked around his bull neck. She moaned into the crook of his shoulder. Her cunthole was smoking, it seemed. Afire!

"Put – um! Ah, baby, you're good. Fucking great! Fucking, fucking… put – um! Put your other leg up."

She complied, locking her ankles high on his broad muscular back. "Ow! Ow! Ah, do it! DO IT!"

Now she could feel the faint whoosh of air, the draft caused by his mighty jabs at her gaping asshole. She held tight, molding her burning flesh to his, barely touching the bed. Fucking was wonderful, she decided. Despite everything, the initial pain and the shame, a big dick up her hot little belly was the medicine she needed to blot out all the bad things – Lew. Doctor Bruce, the matrons and girls at the home, and Mummy and Daddy. A hard, veiny prick was a narcotic; it made her high. It made her inside a turn over. It did the most marvelous things to her tight little red pussy.

It suddenly struck her: all the horrid things that had happened – the rapes, the abuse, the cheek-burning degradation – had prepared her for this, for good fucking. Before she was sent to the home, and taught how to use her young charms, she was a girl who had to sneak peeks at Daddy's sex manual; a dummy who'd explored the pink folds of her sex, and toyed with her pretty pink nipples – all the time wondering what it would be like to take a man's rod up her hole, and afraid to find out. And now?

She was a woman! she thought. She was only fourteen, a mere child in the eyes of the law, but there wasn't a niche on her body that hadn't felt the bludgeoning drive of a hard cock. There wasn't a muscle, a curve, that didn't know what to do when a man positioned himself between her open thighs and shoved a prick up her pussy.

As Gus was now doing, driving, socking it to her. Fucking out her hot, hairy hole. Ramming his meat – almost as long and fat around as the leg of the bed Crazy Inez had screwed nightly – in to the hilt, pulling back and making it slosh with each powerful lunge.

"Do it!" she whimpered, inching her legs even higher, her feet beating a soft pit-pat below the muscles bulging at his manly shoulders. She felt his coarse cock hair flush with her gash, scraping and irritating her clit. She felt the hands on her ass digging in, the teeth tearing her nipples. But most of all she felt the glans of his pistoning tool. She felt it at the mysterious depths of her pulsating vagina – the bulblike thing making her insides all soft and mushy, making her love juices flow. It was a beautiful cock, a cock that could make a girl crazy, an awesome hunk of manmeat that was working, working, working to shoot cream up her hole.

"Yeah. Oh yeah, mother-fucking sweet baby." Gus mouth slid wetly up her neck, and over her chin. He kissed all over her face – kissed her green eyes closed. His lips covered hers.

Moaning, gasping, panting, making small pleasure noises she didn't recognize as her own, Wendy opened her mouth to accept his inquisitive tongue. Her fingernails dug into the flesh on his back, cutting trenches in it. She couldn't help it; she wanted to hurt him as he and the others had hurt her. She felt warm blood oozing out of the gouges, felt the dick up her hole swell and jerk – almost as if Gus enjoyed being hurt too.

Too? She fucked her ass furiously off the bedding, sucked his tongue, and wondered why she'd included herself in the thought. She didn't like to be hurt; it made her cry. It made her tender young body so sore that every step she took brought with it a wince. And yet… pain made her red pussy curls stand on end, and her two hairy holes breathe. And it was all so darn confusing, so new to her. Pain too was a mystery. There was a two-headed stranger, her and the other Wendy, the insatiable one who lived in the wet folds of her slit.

Gus shifted gears, his loins going from low to second, winding toward full speed. He began to mumble incoherently into her mouth, his tongue keeping pace with the long stiffness stabbing her sopping wet cunt. His finger found her closed anus, and twisted in, in. Noisily his nuts slapped against her gyrating bottom.

She was flying again, somewhere above the bed in a skyful of bright flashes. The juice from her cunt spewed out onto the sheets, forming a sticky puddle, wetting her ass each time it touched down for the split second it took for her hips to fuck upward again. She was nearing orgasm. Inside her belly the other Wendy was caressing the bulbous dickhead, making the shaft jerk insanely against her hard clit. The thrill was building, slowly, wondrously. A white-hot electric charge was coursing through her. She worked her hips frantically round and round, from side to side, up and down, up and down – slamming herself up onto the throbbing stiffness. She wanted him to cum too; she wanted to feel the jism spit and ooze down the slippery walls of her sex; she wanted them to come off together, to reach the heights simultaneously, with cum and cunt juice intermingling like the ingredients for a sweet, syrupy drink. She wanted – oh, darn it all! She wanted him to hurt her! To be brutal! To make her whimper and thrash; to take her again and again and again, leave her used and exhausted.

"Baby, baby, baby!" Gus abandoned her lips to sink his teeth into her neck, and begin sucking up a hickey. "Fuck, you fine little whore," he demanded, stoking faster, harder, deeper. "Keep – ah! Ah sweetheart, screw. Yeah! Keep that good pussy working. Like that. Yeah! Make it snap. Oh Christ, yeah! Great stuff. God 'n' hot 'n' tight. Oh Mother! Mother! Ar! Arrghhh! There… there… there's a good fucking hole…"

Wendy humped so furiously she thought for sure the bedsprings were going to snap and shoot them through the ceiling. The jism was like molten lead pouring off up her pulsating cunthole. She'd never felt cum so thick, so good. It weighted her down; it acted as alum on her slit, closing it tight, shrinking it, making the inner and outer lips bite like the jaws of a red-furred tigress.

"Milk it, baby," groaned Gus. "Get it all. Suck me off with your cunt!"