Joan Kelly: Rape me!

Dad's fingers clasped the heavy shaft of his cock and moved the skin up and back. The skin slapped when it wrinkled around the flare of his knob. His naked thighs were ridged with muscles and I could see the gentle swing of his balls as he jacked himself. Jacked off. That's what boys called it. Beat their meat. I swallowed hard, felt a tingling rush at my crotch. When I put a finger down under my cunt mound, it came away wet. I'd already soaked the crotch of my panties with butter. I was hot again, struggling against those forces inside me that had burst to the surface that very morning. The confused guilt I felt from watching my father do something so private to himself gave way to curiosity. The way his cockhead swelled when he started moving his hand faster. The rigid, dangerous look of his shaft. I knew enough about biology to realize that the reservoir of sperm in a male's balls was pumped up at the moment of orgasm and pushed with force down the canal in his cock. When a man came inside a woman, the sperm carried the tiny swimming tadpoles, spurted them out into her cunt and they swam into the mouth of her womb and made a baby. Just thinking about all this had me touching my pussy again. The thoughts weren't very comfortable. I couldn't imagine the time when I would want a man's cock penetrating my cherry, stabbing my cunt and jetting some awful, scary fluid inside. But at the same time these images were exciting me. The nylon of my panties had worked up between my cuntlips. I pushed my finger against the wet material, worked a tiny friction over my clit.

My father had slumped over his cock and was jacking his hand so fast that it made a sharp rapid slapping sound. Something glistened at the tiny hole that cut the taut dome of the knob. I closed my eyes, yanked my hand away from my aching cunt. He was going to come! I couldn't stay and watch. I couldn't do something so outright wicked. But my feet wouldn't move. I held to the doorframe and trembled as something white collected at his cock tip. Suddenly the frothing droplet jumped and made a white streak across the pages of the sex book Dad was holding. He slowed his movements now, working his hand slow and steady as a new glop of cream bubbled thickly out. I watched it ooze down in slick strings over his fingers. So that was what it looked like! My shoulders shook at the thought of having anything so slimy inside my body. How could people screw?

The spurts were coming fast now. They flicked the cummy strings over Dad's thighs and legs and I heard the stuff dripping onto the floor between his legs. His balls looked heavy and huge and I wondered how much seed they held. Did the sperm come from both of them at the same time? Was it hot? I gasped for air, pushed myself away from the door. When I was safe inside my own room with the door shut and locked, my hands flew to the elastic waistband of my panties.

"Nooo!" I said to my naughty thoughts. I wanted more than anything to strip my underwear off and rub my cunt like crazy again. The desire was so strong that I stood there with my feet planted apart and fought against my stormy emotions.

But someone had come in the front door of the trailer. Mom, back from shopping. I took my hands away from my crotch and dug through my drawer for something to wear. I heard her banging pots in the kitchen.

"You'd better come on pretty soon, Lorrie!" she called.

I pulled a bra under my heavy tits, got it fastened. Lots of girls didn't bother wearing them but I knew I'd be embarrassed to death if a boy accidentally brushed one with his arm and felt my naked tit.

"Lorrie…"

"Coming!" I shoved the magazine back under the mattress and pulled on a pair of faded denims and buttoned them up. My sandals made the spots between my toes tingle again, but I ignored that, too. One last glimpse at my reflection in the mirror above my dresser. The jersey bulged out with my high, firm tits. Oh damn, why were they so big!

"Lorrie?"

"I said I was coming…"

Mom guided the Plymouth around a car trying to park and turned left up a hill. She drove with both hands on the top of the steering wheel, chin poked out to see every last inch of road in front of the car. I noticed a strand of hair that had come loose from her bun, wanted to push it back but didn't. She would have been irritated at my touch.

"You know I think it's just grand that your father got this contract here in Olema. Such a nice change from Billings, such an improvement." She smiled vaguely at me. "Don't you think so?"

"Oh sure… sure."

"And the trailer park isn't so bad, is it?"

"It's a nice trailer park." I looked at the passing people, watched the trees slide by. I had learned the easiest way to talk with my mother was to agree with everything and not ask questions about anything difficult.

"Well, you have your own room now," she went on, "and a girl sixteen is entitled to a little privacy. Your father and I agree on that."

"Who's this Mrs. Caruthers anyway?"

"The lady who invited me to join the church. I met her our first night in town when I was over seeing Reverend Dixon about changing our membership from the First Christian in Billings."

"And she has a daughter?"

Mother found the loose strand of hair, poked at it with her fingers. "Yes, and she's in the same grade you are next September." She turned down a tree-lined street and slowed. "They should be at the church this morning. I'll be helping Mrs. Caruthers on getting ready for the coming social."

The town of Olema seemed greener, denser than Billings. Maybe because the summers would be longer, the warm days warmer. I smelled honeysuckle and some other flower I couldn't identify. Mother glanced my way.

"Mrs. Caruthers has even arranged a date for you. Her and her daughter arranged it, I guess."

"Mom! I don't know if I want… I haven't even met this…"

"Her name's Janey and I've met her. Very polite, very sweet girl. Usually I'm very careful about the boys you date, you know that. But Mrs. Caruthers assured me that the MacInnes brothers were fine young men. Active in the church. She's known their family since she was a child herself."

"But, Mom…" I shut up. I didn't want to go on a date, not just like that. I felt like getting to know people on my own time. Maybe I really felt like hiding out in our trailer until the summer drifted by and worrying about the new school, the new kids when I absolutely had to.

"Look, there they are now!" Mom pulled to the curb so fast a tire scraped and jolted us to a stop. When the introductions were over, Janey Caruthers commented my mother's dress which I thought was pretty plain. Mother beamed. Mrs. Caruthers was a blandish woman with small breasts. And I couldn't help notice the way she eyed mine. I tried not to show a profile, felt nervous and sweaty there under everyone's eyes. Janey had small tits, too.

"Come on, I'll show you the recreation room," she said and I followed her down a flight of steps. When we were out of earshot, she studied me, pushed blonde hair out of her eyes. "So your old lady's a church nut, too, huh?"

I was too surprised to do anything but nod. "Have you really fixed me up with a date for tonight?"

"Don't thank me yet." Her long hair flopped lank and pretty around her shoulders. "You'll meet him in a second."

"What do you mean?"

"The MacInnes boys aren't really my idea of a good time," she shrugged. "But it's a ride to the drive-in anyway." Janey made the bottom of the steps before I did, and I noticed that she had a way of walking with her hips that she hadn't done in front of our mothers. It was the little pause, a hitch in her stride which made each half of her ass sway out farther than it had to go. For fun I tried to mimic her. It wasn't as easy as it looked.

Two boys were playing ping-pong when we came into the big game room. I knew without Janey telling me that they were our dates. Jimmy and Ron MacInnes. Through the hellos and shy smiles I saw Janey put her hand on Ron's shoulder, knew that my date would be Jim. Jim wore glasses that kept sliding off his short nose and when he laughed, it sounded more like a cough. His brother was taller, maybe a little older. We would go in Ron's car. Ron was the best-looking of the two except when he opened his mouth, and then he looked a little like Bugs Bunny.